Date Night
“Put on a pot of coffee Wash, looks like we’re in for a long night of backlogged reports.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a rain check on that Sir.”
Glancing up from the ammunition request he had been looking over Commander Taylor wondered if he needed his ears cleaned. In all the years she had been his second Washington had always stayed with him to finish reports even if they had to stay in his office until sunrise.
“Do you have a hot date you need to get to?”
He was joking.
“Yes.”
She wasn’t.
A surprised look crossed his face before he could stop it. Wash hadn’t been on a date in years, not since she took the position as his second and traveled 85 million years into the past. Sure a few newcomers had flirted with her, one had even gathered up the courage to ask her out but she had always sent them running with a well-placed glare.
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
He was rather proud of the way he kept his voice from growling.
At his question she looked up from her files, a small smile was on her lips. It made his stomach turn.
“One of the new pilgrims. He’s an old friend of mine from basic and wants to catch up over dinner.”
Standing from her seat on the other side of his desk she placed the carefully arranged stack of files to his right.
“Now if you’ll excuse me Sir I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Washington barley waited for him to nod his head in a dismissal before she left his office. For a few minutes Taylor just sat at his desk processing their short conversation. Ignoring the paperwork that had seemed so important earlier Taylor brought up his computer screen and searched for the newest pilgrimage’s roster. A little voice in the back of his head warned him he was abusing his authority but Taylor easily silenced that voice with the memory of the damn smile on Wash’s face when she talked about her date. It was easy to narrow down the field to three possibilities; Edward Suboon, Demetri Hawker, and James Butler. Suboon lacked any military experience and Butler was only nineteen. That left Hawker.
Bringing up the man’s profile Taylor began to read his life’s story, with each line he wished he had listened to the little voice.
Demetri J. Hawker. Borne March 3, 2109. Joined the army at eighteen and was sorted into the medic program (where he no doubt met Washington the annoying little voice reminded him). After basic he was sent to Somalia with the second battalion. He performed admirably on the front lines until shrapnel wound sent him to Italy for a month to recover. Once healed he returned to his unit and remained until the war ended. Three more years were spent working in army hospitals with an emphasis on rehabilitation and upon retirement from active duty Hawker took a job as an instructor until his name was drawn in the lottery and he made the pilgrimage to Terra Nova. The Clinic had already accepted his application to work part time and he was scheduled to hold classes for the apprentices after the first of the month.
Gritting his teeth Taylor exited out of the profile with a little more force then was necessary. Sitting back in his chair he refused to frown, sigh or show any outward sign of the emotional storm building inside him. Of all the men who came sniffing around Wash’s boots why did this one have to be one rescued orphanage away from being a Goddamn saint.
He had never given serious thought to what he would do if Washington got into a relationship and now that the possibility of losing her to another man was very much a reality Taylor wasn’t exactly sure how to handle it. Would she still join him for morning patrols? Would they still eat lunch in his office talking about the latest Colony gossip? Would he still be allowed to show up on her doorstep in the middle of the night bleeding from his latest encounter with the local wildlife? A million questions bounced around his head as he pondered how their day-to-day interaction would change and he didn’t want the answers to any of them. In an attempt to forget about Washington and her date (he was starting to hate how that word sounded in his head when paired with her name) Taylor dove into the small mountain of paperwork still covering his desk.
He made it through ten files before admitting defeat. His mind kept wandering to where they would go for dinner or what they would talk about and it was slowly driving him crazy. Without restacking the files he left his office and would have gone directly home if the crowded market hadn’t caught his attention. It looked as if an impromptu concert was going on and a large number of Colonists had gathered to listen to the music and a few vendors had set up stands to sell food to the crowd. At the smell of cooking meat his stomach growled and Taylor was reminded that he hadn’t eaten since noon. He was paying for his Xip-kabob when he saw them sitting at a table not far from where the band was playing.
Or to be exact he saw her and couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
It was Washington but at the same time it wasn’t. Her hair was down and slightly curled, her dark makeup had been applied with a little more care than usual and her normal outfit of cargo pants, a black tank and combat boots had been replaced with a strapless black dress and a pair of red high heels. Across from her was the man he recognized as Hawker from his profile picture, he dressed nicely in black slacks and a button down shirt that did little to hide his muscular physic. Taking his Xip-kabob Taylor found an empty table that was angled in a way to allow him full view of the pair without being seen by them. It was a little stalkerish but as he watched them eat dinner he didn’t really care.
They ate, talked, laughed, ate some more and talked again. He was too far and the band was too loud for him to hear what they were saying but he could see Wash clearly and he nearly choked on his kabob when she laughed, looked down at her plate and then looked back up with her lower lip pulled between her teeth as she fought a wide smile.
Goddamnit she was flirting.
Hawker looked over at the band then back to Washington. He said something and she shook her head no. He stood, said something again and reached for her hand, pulling her up and nearly dragging her to the cleared area other were using as a dance floor. Taylor didn’t like the way he forced her to follow him and he liked it even less that she let him.
It drove Taylor crazy to see another man with his arms around her.
Thankfully the song ended and Wash hooked her arm around Hawker’s to guide him back to their table. No, Taylor corrected himself, not ‘their’ table just a table they happened to be sitting at eating dinner. After they finished their meal Wash tried to help pay but Hawker refused to let her and after the bill was settled he offered Wash his arm to escort her from the concert. At a safe distance Taylor followed them down the street that led to her house. When they were still a couple hundred yards from her home Hawker took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders as if there was a chill in the seventy-six degree air.
If the guy was any more chivalrous Taylor was going to hurl.
They reached her doorstep and exchanged a few words. From behind a tree Taylor watched them and for a moment he was convinced Washington was going to invite him inside but she just took off his jacket and handed it back with a smile. After what must have been their third goodbye Hawker walked a few steps away only to stop, turn and jog right back to her. Taking hold of her shoulders he leaned down and kissed her squarely on the mouth.
It wasn’t a long kiss, more of a peck that was over before it began but it was enough to make Taylor see red.
When Hawker left the second time he didn’t return. Washington remained in her doorway with a surprise look on her face that was far too close to that of a love sick teenager for his taste. When she finally went inside Taylor found himself lingering in the shadows outside her house. He thought about going home, calming down and thinking about everything he had seen with a clearer head but as he passed by her open window he heard something that stopped him cold.
Wash was humming.
Completely ignoring the inner voice that had been telling him he was acting creepy all night Taylor marched up to her door and knocked (more like banged) on her door. It was thrown open seconds later by an alarmed looking Wash. Without waiting for an invitation he entered her house and began to pace in her living room. The soft clicks of her heals let him know she had followed him and was standing a few feet away.
“What’s wrong?”
He turned to look at her. Really look at her. Her black hair was arranged perfectly to frame her face, her makeup highlighted her dark eyes and lips. The black dress hugged her curves like a second skin, showing just enough to keep a man interested without revealing too much and the red heels that were still strapped to her feet made her long legs appear endless.
She had put effort into looking beautiful for another man and that fact caused all the possessiveness he had been trying to hold back boiled over.
“You went on a date.”
Her worried expression quickly morphed into one of annoyance.
“Excuse me Sir?”
Crossing her arms she set him with a look that warned of pain if he didn’t explain himself. Straightening his back Taylor took a few steps towards her, forcing her head up to maintain eye contact. With a slight growl he repeated himself even though he knew full well she had heard him the first time.
“You went on a date and it wasn’t with me.”
Leaning down he kissed her. It wasn’t a peck, it wasn’t over before it began and when he pulled back he honestly thought she was going to slap him. He realized what he had done a second after their lips parted and went to take a step back but her hands gripping his jacket stopped him.
“It sure as hell took you long enough.”
She pulled him back down for a kiss. With a groan he wrapped his arms around her waist, backing her against the nearest wall. She quickly relieved him of his jacket and chest holster before reaching up to entangle her fingers in his hair, her nails against his scalp sent pleasant tingles down his spine. His hands slid from her hips to the back of her thighs so he could hoist her up and wrap her legs around his waist. With a moan she threw her head back to allow him better access to her throat, her hands moving from his hair to his shoulders to keep herself steady.
The bedroom was too far but her couch was just a few feet away. Tightening his grip on her Taylor carried Wash to the nearby piece of furniture and lowered her down.
There was no stopping to think about how many regulations they were breaking or a moment’s pause to consider how their actions would forever change their friendship. All Taylor could focus on was the feel of her heated skin against his hand as it slid up her skirt and the wonderful little moans that kept slipping from her mouth. Washington tugged at his shirt and he was more than happy to help her remove it, especially when her now free hands began working at his belt.
He lost all ability to think clearly when her fingers wrapped around a particularly sensitive part of his anatomy. With a groan Taylor pressed his face against the crook of her neck and he could have sworn he felt her grin against his temple. Before she could push him over the edge Taylor pulled her hand away and with one quick thrust was blissfully inside her.
And God was she perfect with her disheveled hair, sweat covered skin and muscular body writhing against his.
With a face twisted in the most intriguing expression Wash dug her nails into his back and sunk her teeth into his shoulder, distantly Taylor wondered what it said about him that the pain heightened his arousal. With each stroke her breathing became more labored and when her body finally clenched around him it brought stars to his eyes. As the waves of pleasure swept through him Taylor nearly collapsed, only his shaking forearms kept his weight from crushing her body into the couch cushions.
Wash offered him a content smile and a kiss to his collarbone.
“If I’d known you where the jealous type I would have …”
He cut her off with a well placed kiss and she seemed more than happy to leave her sentence unfinished if it kept his lips doing wonderful things against hers.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a rain check on that Sir.”
Glancing up from the ammunition request he had been looking over Commander Taylor wondered if he needed his ears cleaned. In all the years she had been his second Washington had always stayed with him to finish reports even if they had to stay in his office until sunrise.
“Do you have a hot date you need to get to?”
He was joking.
“Yes.”
She wasn’t.
A surprised look crossed his face before he could stop it. Wash hadn’t been on a date in years, not since she took the position as his second and traveled 85 million years into the past. Sure a few newcomers had flirted with her, one had even gathered up the courage to ask her out but she had always sent them running with a well-placed glare.
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
He was rather proud of the way he kept his voice from growling.
At his question she looked up from her files, a small smile was on her lips. It made his stomach turn.
“One of the new pilgrims. He’s an old friend of mine from basic and wants to catch up over dinner.”
Standing from her seat on the other side of his desk she placed the carefully arranged stack of files to his right.
“Now if you’ll excuse me Sir I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Washington barley waited for him to nod his head in a dismissal before she left his office. For a few minutes Taylor just sat at his desk processing their short conversation. Ignoring the paperwork that had seemed so important earlier Taylor brought up his computer screen and searched for the newest pilgrimage’s roster. A little voice in the back of his head warned him he was abusing his authority but Taylor easily silenced that voice with the memory of the damn smile on Wash’s face when she talked about her date. It was easy to narrow down the field to three possibilities; Edward Suboon, Demetri Hawker, and James Butler. Suboon lacked any military experience and Butler was only nineteen. That left Hawker.
Bringing up the man’s profile Taylor began to read his life’s story, with each line he wished he had listened to the little voice.
Demetri J. Hawker. Borne March 3, 2109. Joined the army at eighteen and was sorted into the medic program (where he no doubt met Washington the annoying little voice reminded him). After basic he was sent to Somalia with the second battalion. He performed admirably on the front lines until shrapnel wound sent him to Italy for a month to recover. Once healed he returned to his unit and remained until the war ended. Three more years were spent working in army hospitals with an emphasis on rehabilitation and upon retirement from active duty Hawker took a job as an instructor until his name was drawn in the lottery and he made the pilgrimage to Terra Nova. The Clinic had already accepted his application to work part time and he was scheduled to hold classes for the apprentices after the first of the month.
Gritting his teeth Taylor exited out of the profile with a little more force then was necessary. Sitting back in his chair he refused to frown, sigh or show any outward sign of the emotional storm building inside him. Of all the men who came sniffing around Wash’s boots why did this one have to be one rescued orphanage away from being a Goddamn saint.
He had never given serious thought to what he would do if Washington got into a relationship and now that the possibility of losing her to another man was very much a reality Taylor wasn’t exactly sure how to handle it. Would she still join him for morning patrols? Would they still eat lunch in his office talking about the latest Colony gossip? Would he still be allowed to show up on her doorstep in the middle of the night bleeding from his latest encounter with the local wildlife? A million questions bounced around his head as he pondered how their day-to-day interaction would change and he didn’t want the answers to any of them. In an attempt to forget about Washington and her date (he was starting to hate how that word sounded in his head when paired with her name) Taylor dove into the small mountain of paperwork still covering his desk.
He made it through ten files before admitting defeat. His mind kept wandering to where they would go for dinner or what they would talk about and it was slowly driving him crazy. Without restacking the files he left his office and would have gone directly home if the crowded market hadn’t caught his attention. It looked as if an impromptu concert was going on and a large number of Colonists had gathered to listen to the music and a few vendors had set up stands to sell food to the crowd. At the smell of cooking meat his stomach growled and Taylor was reminded that he hadn’t eaten since noon. He was paying for his Xip-kabob when he saw them sitting at a table not far from where the band was playing.
Or to be exact he saw her and couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
It was Washington but at the same time it wasn’t. Her hair was down and slightly curled, her dark makeup had been applied with a little more care than usual and her normal outfit of cargo pants, a black tank and combat boots had been replaced with a strapless black dress and a pair of red high heels. Across from her was the man he recognized as Hawker from his profile picture, he dressed nicely in black slacks and a button down shirt that did little to hide his muscular physic. Taking his Xip-kabob Taylor found an empty table that was angled in a way to allow him full view of the pair without being seen by them. It was a little stalkerish but as he watched them eat dinner he didn’t really care.
They ate, talked, laughed, ate some more and talked again. He was too far and the band was too loud for him to hear what they were saying but he could see Wash clearly and he nearly choked on his kabob when she laughed, looked down at her plate and then looked back up with her lower lip pulled between her teeth as she fought a wide smile.
Goddamnit she was flirting.
Hawker looked over at the band then back to Washington. He said something and she shook her head no. He stood, said something again and reached for her hand, pulling her up and nearly dragging her to the cleared area other were using as a dance floor. Taylor didn’t like the way he forced her to follow him and he liked it even less that she let him.
It drove Taylor crazy to see another man with his arms around her.
Thankfully the song ended and Wash hooked her arm around Hawker’s to guide him back to their table. No, Taylor corrected himself, not ‘their’ table just a table they happened to be sitting at eating dinner. After they finished their meal Wash tried to help pay but Hawker refused to let her and after the bill was settled he offered Wash his arm to escort her from the concert. At a safe distance Taylor followed them down the street that led to her house. When they were still a couple hundred yards from her home Hawker took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders as if there was a chill in the seventy-six degree air.
If the guy was any more chivalrous Taylor was going to hurl.
They reached her doorstep and exchanged a few words. From behind a tree Taylor watched them and for a moment he was convinced Washington was going to invite him inside but she just took off his jacket and handed it back with a smile. After what must have been their third goodbye Hawker walked a few steps away only to stop, turn and jog right back to her. Taking hold of her shoulders he leaned down and kissed her squarely on the mouth.
It wasn’t a long kiss, more of a peck that was over before it began but it was enough to make Taylor see red.
When Hawker left the second time he didn’t return. Washington remained in her doorway with a surprise look on her face that was far too close to that of a love sick teenager for his taste. When she finally went inside Taylor found himself lingering in the shadows outside her house. He thought about going home, calming down and thinking about everything he had seen with a clearer head but as he passed by her open window he heard something that stopped him cold.
Wash was humming.
Completely ignoring the inner voice that had been telling him he was acting creepy all night Taylor marched up to her door and knocked (more like banged) on her door. It was thrown open seconds later by an alarmed looking Wash. Without waiting for an invitation he entered her house and began to pace in her living room. The soft clicks of her heals let him know she had followed him and was standing a few feet away.
“What’s wrong?”
He turned to look at her. Really look at her. Her black hair was arranged perfectly to frame her face, her makeup highlighted her dark eyes and lips. The black dress hugged her curves like a second skin, showing just enough to keep a man interested without revealing too much and the red heels that were still strapped to her feet made her long legs appear endless.
She had put effort into looking beautiful for another man and that fact caused all the possessiveness he had been trying to hold back boiled over.
“You went on a date.”
Her worried expression quickly morphed into one of annoyance.
“Excuse me Sir?”
Crossing her arms she set him with a look that warned of pain if he didn’t explain himself. Straightening his back Taylor took a few steps towards her, forcing her head up to maintain eye contact. With a slight growl he repeated himself even though he knew full well she had heard him the first time.
“You went on a date and it wasn’t with me.”
Leaning down he kissed her. It wasn’t a peck, it wasn’t over before it began and when he pulled back he honestly thought she was going to slap him. He realized what he had done a second after their lips parted and went to take a step back but her hands gripping his jacket stopped him.
“It sure as hell took you long enough.”
She pulled him back down for a kiss. With a groan he wrapped his arms around her waist, backing her against the nearest wall. She quickly relieved him of his jacket and chest holster before reaching up to entangle her fingers in his hair, her nails against his scalp sent pleasant tingles down his spine. His hands slid from her hips to the back of her thighs so he could hoist her up and wrap her legs around his waist. With a moan she threw her head back to allow him better access to her throat, her hands moving from his hair to his shoulders to keep herself steady.
The bedroom was too far but her couch was just a few feet away. Tightening his grip on her Taylor carried Wash to the nearby piece of furniture and lowered her down.
There was no stopping to think about how many regulations they were breaking or a moment’s pause to consider how their actions would forever change their friendship. All Taylor could focus on was the feel of her heated skin against his hand as it slid up her skirt and the wonderful little moans that kept slipping from her mouth. Washington tugged at his shirt and he was more than happy to help her remove it, especially when her now free hands began working at his belt.
He lost all ability to think clearly when her fingers wrapped around a particularly sensitive part of his anatomy. With a groan Taylor pressed his face against the crook of her neck and he could have sworn he felt her grin against his temple. Before she could push him over the edge Taylor pulled her hand away and with one quick thrust was blissfully inside her.
And God was she perfect with her disheveled hair, sweat covered skin and muscular body writhing against his.
With a face twisted in the most intriguing expression Wash dug her nails into his back and sunk her teeth into his shoulder, distantly Taylor wondered what it said about him that the pain heightened his arousal. With each stroke her breathing became more labored and when her body finally clenched around him it brought stars to his eyes. As the waves of pleasure swept through him Taylor nearly collapsed, only his shaking forearms kept his weight from crushing her body into the couch cushions.
Wash offered him a content smile and a kiss to his collarbone.
“If I’d known you where the jealous type I would have …”
He cut her off with a well placed kiss and she seemed more than happy to leave her sentence unfinished if it kept his lips doing wonderful things against hers.