Your Place Is By My Side (1/1)
Title: Your Place Is By My Side (1/1)
Character/Pairing: Nathaniel Taylor/Alicia Washington
Word Count: 6323
Rating: NC-17
Spoiler alert: N/A, pre-series
Author's Note: A very happy birthday to my dear Mercy <3<3 I hope this fills your prompt... reasonably well. I'm not really sure it does at all, but I hope you like anyway XD
(There's a part of me that still thinks a bit of this is far too abrupt, but I think I'm angsting over nothing!)
2140
There were times when Nathaniel Taylor relished his work, the thrill, the uncertainty, quite how alive he felt in the field. In the past he had been very lucky that this constituted the majority of his life, and that when he was at home, he had his family to help ease the itch to be on the front line again. But that was no longer true.
There were times - more frequent now, after... everything; as leader elect of the mission to save the future of humanity, it was becoming an everyday occurrence - when Nathaniel Taylor despised his work, the days he was forced behind a desk to write endless reports, requisitions, commendations. To be fenced in when all he wanted was to be free.
And there were times when Nathaniel Taylor would simply avoid his work all together, instead stealing a moment to stand at his window, looking out over the compound and watching the soldiers walk to and fro as he savoured a cup of proper coffee.
More than very little else in his life he wanted to see Wash among those soldiers, but she was still on her way to Chicago.
People much higher up than him and far removed from the Terra Nova program had been in charge of her placements after her recovery. He knew from intermittent correspondence how frustrated she was to be stuck in back-room positions - a fact that was more than enough impetus for him to sow the seeds of her rejoining him through a little chatter and friendly recommendations.
It would be Wash's first proper field assignment since Somalia and it was long overdue. She deserved it, and Nathaniel owed her enough to make it happen.
The man he had dropped a good word in with, Colonel Daniel Hill, led a small but lethal team out of the Chicago base. They got sent in to clean up other people's messes and were damn good at doing so, but they were down a medic after a mission gone wrong. (Hill had known what the newly-promoted Commander was doing when they 'accidentally' met in the commissary one lunchtime, had informed Taylor with a smile that Wash had been at the top of his list for a long time, but Nathaniel decided it was worth it to be sure.)
If he stopped for a moment to be honest with himself, to look at the reasoning behind his actions... he just wanted to see her again. Really wanted to see her again, more so than he should actually admit, even within the relative safety of his own thoughts.
And damn it all, patience was never his strong suit.
#
The weeks passed in a blurry, hazy mess of minutes running into hours running into days. He still stole his moments at the window with his coffee, but they were fewer and farther between.
But always, always worth it when he would look down and see Wash crossing the yard, sometimes alone, sometimes with Colonel Hill or some of her unit. She was always happy, always content. Always Wash, whether fresh from training or patched together after a mission, and as far as he was concerned she had more than earned the right to be herself again.
However, beyond stolen glances from his office window he didn't get to spend a lot of time with her. He could count on one hand the times they'd had more than fifteen minutes together since her arrival in Chicago, and those had been meals shared that hadn't even been planned. (But they were some of the best damn times of his post-Somalia life, sharing stories and remembering the good times, even if they skirted the issue of the more delicate topics which neither were ready to face.)
Of the two main reasons for their separation and the first was simple - they were both so damn busy. He was in near constant planning meetings, his life reduced to desk work without him even having the chance to request otherwise. Wash was now part of one of the most elite units on the base and as such they were always demand and he truly couldn't be happier that she was back in the field where she belonged.
The second reason was more selfish.
He had always hated dishonesty. It was one of the things that he and Ayani had first discovered they had in common, a lack of time for bullshit and no desire to add their own. He didn't want to lie to Wash about Terra Nova, refused to speak to her in half truths after all they'd been through together. She wouldn't lie to him, and he could only do the same. But working on a top secret, classified up the wazoo kind of mission... lies were inevitable. And the only way to avoid having to keep things from Wash was simple - keep himself from her instead.
Unfortunately, this route came tailor made with brand new challenges that he hadn't prepared to face. Until that day he was cleared to make the decision on his Terra Nova team, the road to a maintaining a good relationship with his former second until was lined with ways to destroy it instead.
The most virulent of which was his jealousy.
Nathaniel had never had reason in the past to consider himself a jealous man. Not prone to envying others, desiring what he didn't have. It would be time wasted which he could much more easily put into working to achieve what he wanted.
But now, to put it plainly, he wanted Wash. And there wasn't an easy way to work towards getting her back.
He missed being able to turn and have her waiting at his shoulder. Missed brainstorming problems with her, or being able to share a look and have her know his entire plan - whether she agreed with it or not. It had been a long time since he had a second like Wash, and it was looking like being an even longer time until he found another who could even start to compare.
What he really wanted was that connection back, but a man riding a desk didn't need a second. Or a medic. Or, really, a confidante. Colonel Hill and his men had her filling that role now. And he knew from the way they looked at her that they wouldn't give that up easily.
He watched now, mug warm in his hand, as one of the younger men of Hill's unit looped an arm around Wash's shoulders and she laughed at something he said.
All that distance away, and he could still hear its sound. A rare, precious thing. Cherished by him, and he hoped by others.
He shuffled forward a bit, subconsciously. Watched as she turned, walking backwards while weaving a story in response that had the men enraptured - his sergeant, a woman of few words, could be deadly with them when she chose. Nathaniel had seen her like this in years gone by with their unit in far flung countries, both in horrible locations and state-of-the-art barracks, and never felt anything other than fond regard for her as one of his men.
But now, his hand having strayed to press against the glass, his fingers starting to flex against its cool surface, he recognised the alternate burn and aching void in his chest as what they truly were.
He wanted something he couldn't have. And for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure he could do anything about it.
#
Time ticked on with no consideration of Nathaniel's emotions; his work level increased in perfect exponentially at the same rate as his time to see Wash decreased. The sergeant seemed to be out on missions ever more frequently than before and for a top-secret mission, Terra Nova generated a hell of a lot of paperwork.
But the morning finally came, shining bright and clear in the artificial light and purified air of the dome, when Richard Philbrick stepped into his office and informed him with a smile that it was time to start building his team.
It was difficult to describe the emotions that flooded him in that moment - the confirmation that it would be him to lead the mission, the knowledge that it was time to make one of the most important decisions of his life in regards to the future of the human race, the future of his son and the future of his.... the future of Wash.
He and Lucas had fallen into an uneasy truce over recent months; with the boy away at school, the time they had to fill with awkward silence and avoided eye contact was significantly reduced. He had enough faith in his child still to think Lucas would have no hesitation in joining him, once it was proven to be safe, or would have enough support to make it through should the worst happen. It was selfish, to be sure; his son had already lost one parent and couldn't afford to lose another. But this mission was bigger than all of them now.
And that realisation was what turned his hand in regards to his former second. He couldn't consciously deny her the chance to be part of the most important mission either of them could ever contemplate. It would be unfair to her as a soldier, and unfair to her as a friend.
#
Later that evening Nathaniel went in search of Wash and he figured luck must be on his side when he stepped out of the office building and spotted Wash almost immediately. She was walking (alone, his inner voice noted, pleased) across from the barracks in the direction of the gym so he crossed to join her, eyes never leaving her face, just waiting until she noticed him.
When she looked up and saw him, her resulting smile was enough to chase away just about every single worry he had. His self-enforced separation really had to end and the timing couldn't be better. She slowed to allow him to catch up, hoisting her gym bag up higher on her shoulder.
"Sir." She greeted. "It's good to see you."
Oh, she had no idea quite how good.
Nathaniel smiled broadly. "Good to see you too, Wash. Hope I haven't caught you at a bad time?"
"No sir, just heading to the gym." She said, inclining her head in its general direction.
A thought occurred to him, something that should have struck him immediately. "Mind if I join you? Been slacking recently."
There was a flash of something in her eyes at the thought of this, something he could put a name to if he was feeling bold - and he wouldn't be surprised if the same was reflected in his own.
"Of course not sir." She smiled, falling into step with him.
They walked in silence for a moment as he toyed with the best way to ask his next question, before mentally berating himself for even worrying. This was Wash. If nothing else, he could be himself with her. So he relaxed and when he turned his head to her he caught her sneaking a look at him. Her face was painted in tones of orange and gold as the light from the setting sun highlighted her features, making her look uncommonly beautiful. He held her eye for just a moment too long to be entirely innocent and cleared his throat as they both looked away, a tiny smile gracing Wash's lips.
"Was wondering if you were free one evening this week." He started, even a relatively innocuous question soothing some of the tension between them. "Thought we could grab a bite to eat, maybe get a drink. I have some things I'd like to talk through with you."
Wash's resulting smile was wide and genuine. There may even have been a little mischief in the depths of her brown eyes. "I'd like that sir. I have something to tell you too."
He grinned, her pleasure infectious. "Oh really?"
He saw something in her expression that exposed her warring thoughts, her hesitation while she decided how to proceed, what to tell him and what to keep to herself. He struggled to look away, watched as she finally settled on something and opened her mouth to speak.
"Wash!"
Nathaniel bristled at the sound of her nickname coming from an unfamiliar voice, turned a glare in the direction of the speaker. No one outside of their (very closely-knit) unit had called Wash by her nickname in his presence for years, not even Ayani and Lucas. It was his way of referring to her, and the slow burn of jealousy - and worse, of possessiveness that he didn't have a right to claim - flickered to life inside him once more.
A young man, barely older than Wash, if at all, rushed up to them as if the world was ending. When he saw who she was with he skittered to a stop and came to attention quickly, saluting his superior. "Commander Taylor sir." He greeted. "It's good to see you."
Nathaniel nodded, gave a tight smile. "Sergeant Collins."
Wash cleared her throat. "Lieutenant." She offered quietly.
And now there was irritation to add to the possessive jealousy, irritation at the fact that his whip-smart, competent, funny, sarcastic (beautiful) former second was now subordinate to this... man, who looked like he was barely out of basic training.
"Lieutenant Collins." Nathaniel corrected, tight smile turning cold, face expressionless as he regarded the younger man.
The lieutenant wasn't a fool, knew that his presence was neither wanted nor needed. But clearly there was a good reason behind his haste, and Nathaniel observed silently as the younger man turned to Wash. "We just got a call from General Ellis, he needs us out with him by tomorrow morning."
Immediately Wash switched into duty mode, all of her earlier light-heartedness lost in an instance as she faced down the challenge presented to her in that short sentence. She checked her watch and couldn't hide the wince when she mentally calculated the time they would need to leave. In that moment the good humour Nathaniel had found himself in melted away - she wouldn't be around for drinks or dinner, not now.
He watched as she shared a concerned look with Collins and together the two started off towards the barracks to prepare for their deployment. A few seconds later Wash stopped dead in the middle of the tarmac and turned to Nathaniel, face lined with dissatisfaction, anxious about being torn from him. "Rain check?" She asked hopefully.
Nathaniel smiled reassuringly and that was apparently enough for Wash; he watched with a heavy heart as she rushed off in the direction the young lieutenant had continued in.
He'd hadn't missed the way her eyes lit up at the prospect of a problem to solve, a situation to throw herself feet first into. Terra Nova would be the same, and she would relish it in the same way. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to justify tearing her out of her life for something that might not even succeed.
With a sigh he abandoned his course and headed home. There were plenty of other combat medics for him to choose from. It might be time to accept that his didn't need him any longer.
#
At first not having Wash around the base made it easier for Nathaniel to press on with making decisions for the rest of the team. He settled on a core number of people who he either knew he could trust, or had heard nothing but glowing recommendations of, and once Isaac Guzman had agreed to be head of security he at least had another pair of hands to help on the more difficult choices.
But all the while the position of his second in command and the team's combat medic remained tauntingly unfilled. It wasn't for lack of trying - Guzman wasn't short of suggestions, all of them perfectly suited to the roles. But they were all missing something... Hell, he wasn't too proud to admit what that was.
None of them were Wash.
He heard in passing that her unit returned home in one piece a couple of weeks after the evening she had been torn away from him. He hadn't made any attempt to contact her since, a cowardly choice to be sure, but there was still a part of him that was convinced it was the right thing.
Just that morning he had noticed Hill's men were due to deploy in the evening to ease tensions brewing in Central Europe, an region that was becomingly increasingly fractious now that poor air quality was no longer a problem limited to built-up areas.
Nathaniel threw down another plex in disgust, rubbed his eyes in a pointless attempt to clear his weariness. The decision was plain, it was easy.
Maybe he had been too hasty...
At the sound of a knock, Nathaniel looked up from his abandoned pile of plexes and tried not to look as surprised as he was at the sight of the woman leaning casually up against his office doorway.
"Wash..." He said quietly, then the smile he could never fight in her presence graced his face. "I thought you shipped out tonight?"
She shrugged lazily. "Got pushed back to tomorrow." She rocked back on her heels, then silently walked towards him. "So. Were you going to tell me?"
He toyed with playing dumb but the thought died almost as soon as it entered his head; he'd known Wash long enough now that she would see through any of his shit, and she deserved more than that anyway. "It didn't seem like the right thing to do."
She frowned and took a seat, leaning her elbows on her knees. After a moment's pause, she cleared her throat. "I'd call bullshit on that, but I can tell you believe it. Why?"
"You're all set, Wash. Hill's unit is the top, it doesn't get much better." He explained. "It wasn't my place to interfere."
Wash remained still, sizing him up. Judging the truth behind his words. "Surely you can see that was my decision to make, if I was lucky enough to be considered for this mission?"
"I can." Nathaniel nodded. "It was... a bad call on my part."
"Yes it was. Especially since last week I put in a request to join your unit. They approved it, with far more ease than I was anticipating. General Philbrick might have candidly informed me that he was surprised I wasn't on the roster already." She smiled. "One more mission, then I get my transfer."
"That’s what you were going to tell me before Collins interrupted.” Nathaniel postured, receiving a nod in reply. With a dry chuckle, he leant forward on the desk. “You're leaving to join a team you didn't even know the purpose of when you requested a transfer?" He paused. "To be fair, that sounds like you."
Wash snorted. "Thank you sir."
"But you'll forgive me if I'm a little hazy on the reasoning. Ever since you joined Hill and his men you've had more commendations than I can remember anyone getting before. Hell, Wash, lieutenant's right around the corner, if they haven't got the notice printed up already." She hid it well, but this surprised her. "You earned it."
"Thank you sir." She repeated, with more sincerity this time. "Permission to speak freely."
Nathaniel smiled. "Was under the impression that's what we were doing."
A small scowl, the tiniest contraction of her brow, before she recovered admirably. "I've enjoyed my time with this unit. Genuinely and without reservation. But it hasn't felt like home. And honestly sir nothing has, since you and the guys."
Hope blossomed in his chest, something he didn't want to fight, though not quite ready to accept that he was able to feel it. "You've got a good thing going there.'
"Not denying it, sir. But it's not where I want to be. Not... who I want to be with." She smiled. "It's my choice, sir."
"Terra Nova is going to be dangerous Wash. It might not even work - the science team aren't one hundred percent sure, even now." He added.
"You do know who you're talking to right?" Wash asked, smile tugging at her lips. "Are you really trying to talk me out of this?"
"I know better than to think that'll work." Nathaniel replied warmly. "Just want you to be sure. I assume the scuttlebutt doesn't extend much beyond the dinosaurs. There's a lot you don't know. "
"I have no doubt of that sir. But..." She trailed off, dropping her gaze to her clasped hands. "I can't bear the thought of you doing this without me, sir. Without me there to watch your back."
Nathaniel briefly hesitated before reaching out and taking one of her hands in his over the desk. "I don't want that either."
"You'd be dino food in five minutes otherwise." She grinned, before adding a belated, "Sir."
Shaking his head, Nathaniel squeezed her hand, his heart jumping when Wash linked their fingers unbidden. "No doubt Wash, no doubt."
Nathaniel lost track of how long they sat like that; hands joined, smiling at each other with the knowledge that their time apart was coming to a close.
Wash was the first to break their hold, letting his hand go and rising to her feet. "I should... go." She said haltingly.
Nathaniel coughed, nodding and sitting back in his chair quickly. "Probably for the best."
He shouldn't have watched her walk away. It was a selfish move on his part, especially now that he knew he wasn't losing her. But it saved him from possible whiplash had he not been looking to see that she didn't leave and instead closed the door and slid the lock into place.
"Wash?" He questioned, voice holding the slightest unevenness.
He saw her back rise and fall with a deep breath, then she turned. "It's my choice sir."
He wasn't going to deny that it had been an extremely long time since he'd found himself in a position such as this. Since Ayani passed, Wash was the only woman he'd spent any serious non-working time with. But he wasn't a monk, he could still recognise the signs of what Wash was telling him in the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of heat and wariness, the way she was standing openly in front of him, yet could close herself off in a fraction of a second. He knew what she was offering. And more importantly, he knew that he wanted, and was ready to accept.
He stood, coming around the desk to stand in front of her. "This is a bad idea."
Her smile grew, lost some of its hesitation. "Undoubtedly."
He moved closer. "It could ruin everything." He murmured, chancing the first touch to her hip.
Wash hummed, closing the gap between them until it nearly disappeared. "Or it could make everything perfect."
"Suppose it would be irresponsible not to find out which." He continued, bringing his free hand up to smooth over her cheek, delighting in the way her eyes fluttered closed for a second.
"Yes sir..." She breathed, before surging up to capture his lips for the first time.
He groaned as her mouth moved over his, pulling her closer with confident hands gripping hard - one tangling in her hair and one on her hip. Wash echoed him when his fingers caught on her dark tresses, her arms linking around his neck.
He would be a liar if he claimed never to have thought about this. About how she would feel in his arms and how she would taste to his tongue. The fantasies never struck him with much force while Ayani was alive - the thought of being unfaithful was repulsive to him even now - but Wash featured in his dreams with alarming speed after his wife's death. He wrote it off as his addled brain sorting through emotions, but as time went on he accepted their truth.
And while Ayani had fondly pointed out a younger version of Wash's case of hero worship regarding him, he hadn't dared think that this Wash, the one whose tongue was stroking his own, would have any interest in him after everything that had happened.
He felt her lips curve against his when he pressed his lower half firmly into her, his length half-hard against her lower stomach. She rocked her hips against him, letting her weight fall suggestively along his entire body and he slowly started to walk backwards, bringing her with him.
Once he had manoeuvred them around the desk he let his mouth trail lower, nosing the collar of her jacket out of the way. She moaned and he could feel the vibrations through her skin as he slipped the material off of her arms. Once she was free, Wash curled one hand around his bicep, sliding her fingers under his t-shirt sleeve. Her other arm shot out and swept the plexes to the ground, an action with Nathaniel rewarded by sucking hard at her pulse until she was laughing and moaning and clutching at him in the most fantastic way.
It took a lot of willpower to step away from her like this, but he did so just to give her room to hop up onto the desk. Once she was seated he struck, hands finding her belt immediately as he took her mouth again. She chuckled at his haste, at the way his fingers fumbled with her belt, but it quickly melted into breathy anticipation when he tugged the thick material of her pants down and let them hang around her ankles over her boots.
She watched him carefully now, trying to judge his next move and she smirked when he dropped to his knees, quickly unfastening her laces and pulling all of the clothing off of her legs. Bare from the waist down, it was easy for him to reach his intended target, and he pushed her knees wide to accommodate himself between, wasting no time in lowering his mouth to her core.
"Oh my god..." Wash whispered, falling back onto the desk as he licked along the full length of her folds, finishing up at her clit and drawing the bundle of nerves into his mouth without hesitation.
He hummed against her and she cried out, shifting impatiently as he continued to tease her. It was tempting to draw this out, to slowly learn every facet of her body and the reactions he could evoke, but they had time (finally, he could be confident they had time) and the situation now simply called for pleasure for this wonderful woman - lots of it, and soon.
Her leg hooked over his shoulder to draw him closer and he laughed at her eagerness, the vibrations of his chuckles rumbling through her and making her hips buck at the stimulation. Nipping at her clit he eased his arm up and over her hips, forcing her down into the desk with the not insubstantial weight of his forearm. She let out an irritated whine that morphed into a cry of pleasure at his tongue flattening over her nub, applying steady pressure to the sensitive area.
He followed her vocal cues, her utterances leading him down to slide his tongue into her heat completely, feeling her muscles pulse at the small intrusion. She shifted against his grip and he tightened his arm, feeling sharp pricks of her nails biting into him when he refused to let her move, the action her only way of expressing her frustration as she rode the waves of pleasure he was creating.
He travelled back to her clit once more and took it back into his mouth, sucking with increasing pressure until the low moan building within her turned into a more audible cry. Her body tensed, muscles going rigid in anticipation of release and so he stopped, sitting back on his heels.
It took a moment for Wash's lust addled mind to clue into what had happened, but soon enough she shot up, leaning on her hands to look down at him.
"Nathaniel." She uttered, sounding almost betrayed, as if she couldn't believe he would do such a thing.
He stood up, stealing a kiss and using his greater weight to force her onto her back once more. "Wanna watch you, Wash." He murmured, nuzzling at the underside of her jaw.
Any other woman might have let her cheeks colour at this, at his blatant desire and his lack of attempt to hide it. But no, not his Wash. When he pulled back he saw her flushed instead with pride, smiling broadly at him. She let her legs fall apart and guided his hand to her core, their linked fingers playing over slick skin.
The ease with which his fingers slipped into her left him a little breathless, the obviousness of her want for him. But it was nothing compared to the low growl that rumbled through her, a sound he had only ever dreamed of hearing from the woman beneath him, a sound which sent all of the blood remaining in his brain straight to his groin. He felt himself harden impossibly as she writhed at the action of his hand, the way his palm pressed into her folds and stimulated her clit while his fingers curled within her, seeking and finding something that made her back arch and the growl escalate to a deep moan.
"God." He heard, and he wasn't sure if it came from him, or from her but it was enough to make him shift, placing his hand beside her head so he fully leaned over her, faces level.
Her eyes opened as she sensed him move, her already dark eyes deeper and more expressive than he'd ever seen before. They shined with a sense of wonder, of belonging, of something he didn't want to put a name to. Her pupils were blown wide with extreme pleasure and she brought a hand up to clutch at the back of his head.
She held him in place, eyes locked on to hers as he worked her closer to the edge, until she was trembling, panting. Her gaze didn't falter even when the final twist of his fingers made her break, shouting his name into the otherwise silent office. Nathaniel watched, entranced, as her eyes rolled up and he felt her muscles clutching around him, felt the evidence of her orgasm as he drew out the sensations with skilful hands.
He drank her in as she slowly regained composure, her chest heaving, tanned skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat where her tank exposed her to him.
"Thank you." She murmured, voice full of wonder.
"What for?" He returned, hands moving to her sides and pulling her up while he stepped back.
She shrugged. "Felt right to say it."
"If anyone deserves thanks it's you, Wash." He said, wiping her hair out of her face tenderly.
She grinned wickedly, palm tracing over the obvious bulge in his pants. "This is all the thanks I need, sir." She said, fingers tracing the length of him as it strained against his zipper.
He groaned, not sure if it was her stimulation or her invocation of his title that gave him the greater thrill, and looked down at her as she went to pull her top over her head. He stilled her hand, knowing that even though they were in his locked office, they couldn't be too careful. She pouted playfully but understood his action and instead relocated her hands to his belt.
Her pleased little smile and purr of appreciation as she freed him from the confines of his underwear did wonders for his ego and he swelled in her grip when she squeezed. She looked up at him, a devilish fire burning in her eyes and then she leant forward and kissed away the liquid gathering on the head of his erection. Before he had a chance to protest she removed all contact and sat up straight. Her hands came to his shoulders and shoved, making him fall back into the obscenely large black chair the brass has seen fit to provide.
He didn't think this was the sort of use they had in mind when kitting out his office. But he certainly wasn't going to turn down the opportunity. He watched, rapt, as she slid to her feet and sidled up to him, bringing first one then the other knee to each side of his thighs, settling her weight over him.
When she sank down, slowly enveloping him in her heat, he realised quite how much he had missed this, the intimacy of such a moment. His eyes closed as pleasure washed over him, the feeling of completeness returning having spent too long away.
He felt Wash resting a hand gently on his jaw and opened his eyes to find her watching him curiously.
"Is this the first time since...?" She asked carefully. When he nodded, she smiled. "She'd be on our side you know."
"I know, and I'm not worried." He assured her. "Just didn't know quite how much I'd missed this."
Wash smiled reassuringly, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly as she slowly lifted off of him for the first time. He groaned into her mouth, hands coming to rest on her hips and guide her movements. She arched her back, pressing her chest into his as she she worked into a satisfying rhythm. He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, pressing his mouth to her skin as he tracked one hand slowly up her side, thumb teasing the side of her breast before it tangled in her hair once more.
He tilted her head so he could access more of her skin, and she moaned long and low when his hand tightened in her hair. Her own hands alternated their grasp, clenching the strong muscles of his upper arms and shoulders then switching to hold his head and keep his mouth on her.
He could feel her panted breaths in his ear as she moved over him, her legs gripping his firmly with each thrust. His soul felt lighter than it had in months being joined with her like this, sharing himself with her and receiving the same in reply. Their actions went further than just sex; this was a melding of their deepest selves, the next natural step in their relationship, utterly right despite what the regulations might say.
He felt his orgasm building quicker than he would have liked, the chance to savour the feeling after disappearing with every movement of the woman above him. The time to draw this out would come later, but for now he could tell Wash was focussed on returning the favour he had done her earlier, her internal muscles clenching him rhythmically to pull him closer to release. He could feel the heat coiling lower in his belly and started to thrust up into her, making her pants turn into gasps as he stroked over a sweet spot insider her.
Wash eased back to watch as he came, greedily drinking in his reactions and using them to fuel the path to her second orgasm, something he was dimly aware of as his blood rushed in his ears and his body hummed with satisfaction. He struggled with the desire to shout triumphantly so that people could hear them in the next building over, so that people would know what had happened - that he was hers and she was his, finally, at last.
She slumped against him when sated and he encircled her with his arms to hold her close, revelling in one final moment of closeness before the harsh reality of their lives came knocking once more.
"Are we even on the thank you's?" He asked quietly, smoothing a hand over her back under her tank.
She chuckled, kissing the sensitive spot just under his ear. "I think so sir."
Eventually Wash lifted off of him and grumbled with disappointment when he slipped from her body; it was too tempting not to just drink her in as she quietly redressed and it was only when she scowled playfully at him that he decided it was best to move too, pulling his fatigues back on with an odd feeling of emptiness.
The feeling was soothed when Wash moved in close to him once more, embracing him with a tenderness and ease that he would happily step 85 million years into the past to be able to have on a daily basis.
"Come back to me in one piece Wash." He commanded, smoothing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Hell of a thing if you get taken out and leave me to face this on my own."
"I'll be careful sir." She said, kissing him one final time and then walking to the door with a lightness in her step that hadn't been there before. "It's only Europe sir. I can handle that." She paused by the door, allowing her expression to melt into something fond. "I'll see you in a month."
"That you will. Be safe, Wash."
And she was, for the most part. When she returned with her arm in plaster (a break that could have been healed ten times faster if she hadn't ignored it in favour of helping her squad) and a killer scar on her upper back, Nathaniel had some choice words for her regarding what exactly constituted 'safe'. But she was back, she was with him and if they snuck into his office on the way to her debrief, well. No one needed to know.
Character/Pairing: Nathaniel Taylor/Alicia Washington
Word Count: 6323
Rating: NC-17
Spoiler alert: N/A, pre-series
Author's Note: A very happy birthday to my dear Mercy <3<3 I hope this fills your prompt... reasonably well. I'm not really sure it does at all, but I hope you like anyway XD
(There's a part of me that still thinks a bit of this is far too abrupt, but I think I'm angsting over nothing!)
2140
There were times when Nathaniel Taylor relished his work, the thrill, the uncertainty, quite how alive he felt in the field. In the past he had been very lucky that this constituted the majority of his life, and that when he was at home, he had his family to help ease the itch to be on the front line again. But that was no longer true.
There were times - more frequent now, after... everything; as leader elect of the mission to save the future of humanity, it was becoming an everyday occurrence - when Nathaniel Taylor despised his work, the days he was forced behind a desk to write endless reports, requisitions, commendations. To be fenced in when all he wanted was to be free.
And there were times when Nathaniel Taylor would simply avoid his work all together, instead stealing a moment to stand at his window, looking out over the compound and watching the soldiers walk to and fro as he savoured a cup of proper coffee.
More than very little else in his life he wanted to see Wash among those soldiers, but she was still on her way to Chicago.
People much higher up than him and far removed from the Terra Nova program had been in charge of her placements after her recovery. He knew from intermittent correspondence how frustrated she was to be stuck in back-room positions - a fact that was more than enough impetus for him to sow the seeds of her rejoining him through a little chatter and friendly recommendations.
It would be Wash's first proper field assignment since Somalia and it was long overdue. She deserved it, and Nathaniel owed her enough to make it happen.
The man he had dropped a good word in with, Colonel Daniel Hill, led a small but lethal team out of the Chicago base. They got sent in to clean up other people's messes and were damn good at doing so, but they were down a medic after a mission gone wrong. (Hill had known what the newly-promoted Commander was doing when they 'accidentally' met in the commissary one lunchtime, had informed Taylor with a smile that Wash had been at the top of his list for a long time, but Nathaniel decided it was worth it to be sure.)
If he stopped for a moment to be honest with himself, to look at the reasoning behind his actions... he just wanted to see her again. Really wanted to see her again, more so than he should actually admit, even within the relative safety of his own thoughts.
And damn it all, patience was never his strong suit.
#
The weeks passed in a blurry, hazy mess of minutes running into hours running into days. He still stole his moments at the window with his coffee, but they were fewer and farther between.
But always, always worth it when he would look down and see Wash crossing the yard, sometimes alone, sometimes with Colonel Hill or some of her unit. She was always happy, always content. Always Wash, whether fresh from training or patched together after a mission, and as far as he was concerned she had more than earned the right to be herself again.
However, beyond stolen glances from his office window he didn't get to spend a lot of time with her. He could count on one hand the times they'd had more than fifteen minutes together since her arrival in Chicago, and those had been meals shared that hadn't even been planned. (But they were some of the best damn times of his post-Somalia life, sharing stories and remembering the good times, even if they skirted the issue of the more delicate topics which neither were ready to face.)
Of the two main reasons for their separation and the first was simple - they were both so damn busy. He was in near constant planning meetings, his life reduced to desk work without him even having the chance to request otherwise. Wash was now part of one of the most elite units on the base and as such they were always demand and he truly couldn't be happier that she was back in the field where she belonged.
The second reason was more selfish.
He had always hated dishonesty. It was one of the things that he and Ayani had first discovered they had in common, a lack of time for bullshit and no desire to add their own. He didn't want to lie to Wash about Terra Nova, refused to speak to her in half truths after all they'd been through together. She wouldn't lie to him, and he could only do the same. But working on a top secret, classified up the wazoo kind of mission... lies were inevitable. And the only way to avoid having to keep things from Wash was simple - keep himself from her instead.
Unfortunately, this route came tailor made with brand new challenges that he hadn't prepared to face. Until that day he was cleared to make the decision on his Terra Nova team, the road to a maintaining a good relationship with his former second until was lined with ways to destroy it instead.
The most virulent of which was his jealousy.
Nathaniel had never had reason in the past to consider himself a jealous man. Not prone to envying others, desiring what he didn't have. It would be time wasted which he could much more easily put into working to achieve what he wanted.
But now, to put it plainly, he wanted Wash. And there wasn't an easy way to work towards getting her back.
He missed being able to turn and have her waiting at his shoulder. Missed brainstorming problems with her, or being able to share a look and have her know his entire plan - whether she agreed with it or not. It had been a long time since he had a second like Wash, and it was looking like being an even longer time until he found another who could even start to compare.
What he really wanted was that connection back, but a man riding a desk didn't need a second. Or a medic. Or, really, a confidante. Colonel Hill and his men had her filling that role now. And he knew from the way they looked at her that they wouldn't give that up easily.
He watched now, mug warm in his hand, as one of the younger men of Hill's unit looped an arm around Wash's shoulders and she laughed at something he said.
All that distance away, and he could still hear its sound. A rare, precious thing. Cherished by him, and he hoped by others.
He shuffled forward a bit, subconsciously. Watched as she turned, walking backwards while weaving a story in response that had the men enraptured - his sergeant, a woman of few words, could be deadly with them when she chose. Nathaniel had seen her like this in years gone by with their unit in far flung countries, both in horrible locations and state-of-the-art barracks, and never felt anything other than fond regard for her as one of his men.
But now, his hand having strayed to press against the glass, his fingers starting to flex against its cool surface, he recognised the alternate burn and aching void in his chest as what they truly were.
He wanted something he couldn't have. And for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure he could do anything about it.
#
Time ticked on with no consideration of Nathaniel's emotions; his work level increased in perfect exponentially at the same rate as his time to see Wash decreased. The sergeant seemed to be out on missions ever more frequently than before and for a top-secret mission, Terra Nova generated a hell of a lot of paperwork.
But the morning finally came, shining bright and clear in the artificial light and purified air of the dome, when Richard Philbrick stepped into his office and informed him with a smile that it was time to start building his team.
It was difficult to describe the emotions that flooded him in that moment - the confirmation that it would be him to lead the mission, the knowledge that it was time to make one of the most important decisions of his life in regards to the future of the human race, the future of his son and the future of his.... the future of Wash.
He and Lucas had fallen into an uneasy truce over recent months; with the boy away at school, the time they had to fill with awkward silence and avoided eye contact was significantly reduced. He had enough faith in his child still to think Lucas would have no hesitation in joining him, once it was proven to be safe, or would have enough support to make it through should the worst happen. It was selfish, to be sure; his son had already lost one parent and couldn't afford to lose another. But this mission was bigger than all of them now.
And that realisation was what turned his hand in regards to his former second. He couldn't consciously deny her the chance to be part of the most important mission either of them could ever contemplate. It would be unfair to her as a soldier, and unfair to her as a friend.
#
Later that evening Nathaniel went in search of Wash and he figured luck must be on his side when he stepped out of the office building and spotted Wash almost immediately. She was walking (alone, his inner voice noted, pleased) across from the barracks in the direction of the gym so he crossed to join her, eyes never leaving her face, just waiting until she noticed him.
When she looked up and saw him, her resulting smile was enough to chase away just about every single worry he had. His self-enforced separation really had to end and the timing couldn't be better. She slowed to allow him to catch up, hoisting her gym bag up higher on her shoulder.
"Sir." She greeted. "It's good to see you."
Oh, she had no idea quite how good.
Nathaniel smiled broadly. "Good to see you too, Wash. Hope I haven't caught you at a bad time?"
"No sir, just heading to the gym." She said, inclining her head in its general direction.
A thought occurred to him, something that should have struck him immediately. "Mind if I join you? Been slacking recently."
There was a flash of something in her eyes at the thought of this, something he could put a name to if he was feeling bold - and he wouldn't be surprised if the same was reflected in his own.
"Of course not sir." She smiled, falling into step with him.
They walked in silence for a moment as he toyed with the best way to ask his next question, before mentally berating himself for even worrying. This was Wash. If nothing else, he could be himself with her. So he relaxed and when he turned his head to her he caught her sneaking a look at him. Her face was painted in tones of orange and gold as the light from the setting sun highlighted her features, making her look uncommonly beautiful. He held her eye for just a moment too long to be entirely innocent and cleared his throat as they both looked away, a tiny smile gracing Wash's lips.
"Was wondering if you were free one evening this week." He started, even a relatively innocuous question soothing some of the tension between them. "Thought we could grab a bite to eat, maybe get a drink. I have some things I'd like to talk through with you."
Wash's resulting smile was wide and genuine. There may even have been a little mischief in the depths of her brown eyes. "I'd like that sir. I have something to tell you too."
He grinned, her pleasure infectious. "Oh really?"
He saw something in her expression that exposed her warring thoughts, her hesitation while she decided how to proceed, what to tell him and what to keep to herself. He struggled to look away, watched as she finally settled on something and opened her mouth to speak.
"Wash!"
Nathaniel bristled at the sound of her nickname coming from an unfamiliar voice, turned a glare in the direction of the speaker. No one outside of their (very closely-knit) unit had called Wash by her nickname in his presence for years, not even Ayani and Lucas. It was his way of referring to her, and the slow burn of jealousy - and worse, of possessiveness that he didn't have a right to claim - flickered to life inside him once more.
A young man, barely older than Wash, if at all, rushed up to them as if the world was ending. When he saw who she was with he skittered to a stop and came to attention quickly, saluting his superior. "Commander Taylor sir." He greeted. "It's good to see you."
Nathaniel nodded, gave a tight smile. "Sergeant Collins."
Wash cleared her throat. "Lieutenant." She offered quietly.
And now there was irritation to add to the possessive jealousy, irritation at the fact that his whip-smart, competent, funny, sarcastic (beautiful) former second was now subordinate to this... man, who looked like he was barely out of basic training.
"Lieutenant Collins." Nathaniel corrected, tight smile turning cold, face expressionless as he regarded the younger man.
The lieutenant wasn't a fool, knew that his presence was neither wanted nor needed. But clearly there was a good reason behind his haste, and Nathaniel observed silently as the younger man turned to Wash. "We just got a call from General Ellis, he needs us out with him by tomorrow morning."
Immediately Wash switched into duty mode, all of her earlier light-heartedness lost in an instance as she faced down the challenge presented to her in that short sentence. She checked her watch and couldn't hide the wince when she mentally calculated the time they would need to leave. In that moment the good humour Nathaniel had found himself in melted away - she wouldn't be around for drinks or dinner, not now.
He watched as she shared a concerned look with Collins and together the two started off towards the barracks to prepare for their deployment. A few seconds later Wash stopped dead in the middle of the tarmac and turned to Nathaniel, face lined with dissatisfaction, anxious about being torn from him. "Rain check?" She asked hopefully.
Nathaniel smiled reassuringly and that was apparently enough for Wash; he watched with a heavy heart as she rushed off in the direction the young lieutenant had continued in.
He'd hadn't missed the way her eyes lit up at the prospect of a problem to solve, a situation to throw herself feet first into. Terra Nova would be the same, and she would relish it in the same way. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to justify tearing her out of her life for something that might not even succeed.
With a sigh he abandoned his course and headed home. There were plenty of other combat medics for him to choose from. It might be time to accept that his didn't need him any longer.
#
At first not having Wash around the base made it easier for Nathaniel to press on with making decisions for the rest of the team. He settled on a core number of people who he either knew he could trust, or had heard nothing but glowing recommendations of, and once Isaac Guzman had agreed to be head of security he at least had another pair of hands to help on the more difficult choices.
But all the while the position of his second in command and the team's combat medic remained tauntingly unfilled. It wasn't for lack of trying - Guzman wasn't short of suggestions, all of them perfectly suited to the roles. But they were all missing something... Hell, he wasn't too proud to admit what that was.
None of them were Wash.
He heard in passing that her unit returned home in one piece a couple of weeks after the evening she had been torn away from him. He hadn't made any attempt to contact her since, a cowardly choice to be sure, but there was still a part of him that was convinced it was the right thing.
Just that morning he had noticed Hill's men were due to deploy in the evening to ease tensions brewing in Central Europe, an region that was becomingly increasingly fractious now that poor air quality was no longer a problem limited to built-up areas.
Nathaniel threw down another plex in disgust, rubbed his eyes in a pointless attempt to clear his weariness. The decision was plain, it was easy.
Maybe he had been too hasty...
At the sound of a knock, Nathaniel looked up from his abandoned pile of plexes and tried not to look as surprised as he was at the sight of the woman leaning casually up against his office doorway.
"Wash..." He said quietly, then the smile he could never fight in her presence graced his face. "I thought you shipped out tonight?"
She shrugged lazily. "Got pushed back to tomorrow." She rocked back on her heels, then silently walked towards him. "So. Were you going to tell me?"
He toyed with playing dumb but the thought died almost as soon as it entered his head; he'd known Wash long enough now that she would see through any of his shit, and she deserved more than that anyway. "It didn't seem like the right thing to do."
She frowned and took a seat, leaning her elbows on her knees. After a moment's pause, she cleared her throat. "I'd call bullshit on that, but I can tell you believe it. Why?"
"You're all set, Wash. Hill's unit is the top, it doesn't get much better." He explained. "It wasn't my place to interfere."
Wash remained still, sizing him up. Judging the truth behind his words. "Surely you can see that was my decision to make, if I was lucky enough to be considered for this mission?"
"I can." Nathaniel nodded. "It was... a bad call on my part."
"Yes it was. Especially since last week I put in a request to join your unit. They approved it, with far more ease than I was anticipating. General Philbrick might have candidly informed me that he was surprised I wasn't on the roster already." She smiled. "One more mission, then I get my transfer."
"That’s what you were going to tell me before Collins interrupted.” Nathaniel postured, receiving a nod in reply. With a dry chuckle, he leant forward on the desk. “You're leaving to join a team you didn't even know the purpose of when you requested a transfer?" He paused. "To be fair, that sounds like you."
Wash snorted. "Thank you sir."
"But you'll forgive me if I'm a little hazy on the reasoning. Ever since you joined Hill and his men you've had more commendations than I can remember anyone getting before. Hell, Wash, lieutenant's right around the corner, if they haven't got the notice printed up already." She hid it well, but this surprised her. "You earned it."
"Thank you sir." She repeated, with more sincerity this time. "Permission to speak freely."
Nathaniel smiled. "Was under the impression that's what we were doing."
A small scowl, the tiniest contraction of her brow, before she recovered admirably. "I've enjoyed my time with this unit. Genuinely and without reservation. But it hasn't felt like home. And honestly sir nothing has, since you and the guys."
Hope blossomed in his chest, something he didn't want to fight, though not quite ready to accept that he was able to feel it. "You've got a good thing going there.'
"Not denying it, sir. But it's not where I want to be. Not... who I want to be with." She smiled. "It's my choice, sir."
"Terra Nova is going to be dangerous Wash. It might not even work - the science team aren't one hundred percent sure, even now." He added.
"You do know who you're talking to right?" Wash asked, smile tugging at her lips. "Are you really trying to talk me out of this?"
"I know better than to think that'll work." Nathaniel replied warmly. "Just want you to be sure. I assume the scuttlebutt doesn't extend much beyond the dinosaurs. There's a lot you don't know. "
"I have no doubt of that sir. But..." She trailed off, dropping her gaze to her clasped hands. "I can't bear the thought of you doing this without me, sir. Without me there to watch your back."
Nathaniel briefly hesitated before reaching out and taking one of her hands in his over the desk. "I don't want that either."
"You'd be dino food in five minutes otherwise." She grinned, before adding a belated, "Sir."
Shaking his head, Nathaniel squeezed her hand, his heart jumping when Wash linked their fingers unbidden. "No doubt Wash, no doubt."
Nathaniel lost track of how long they sat like that; hands joined, smiling at each other with the knowledge that their time apart was coming to a close.
Wash was the first to break their hold, letting his hand go and rising to her feet. "I should... go." She said haltingly.
Nathaniel coughed, nodding and sitting back in his chair quickly. "Probably for the best."
He shouldn't have watched her walk away. It was a selfish move on his part, especially now that he knew he wasn't losing her. But it saved him from possible whiplash had he not been looking to see that she didn't leave and instead closed the door and slid the lock into place.
"Wash?" He questioned, voice holding the slightest unevenness.
He saw her back rise and fall with a deep breath, then she turned. "It's my choice sir."
He wasn't going to deny that it had been an extremely long time since he'd found himself in a position such as this. Since Ayani passed, Wash was the only woman he'd spent any serious non-working time with. But he wasn't a monk, he could still recognise the signs of what Wash was telling him in the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of heat and wariness, the way she was standing openly in front of him, yet could close herself off in a fraction of a second. He knew what she was offering. And more importantly, he knew that he wanted, and was ready to accept.
He stood, coming around the desk to stand in front of her. "This is a bad idea."
Her smile grew, lost some of its hesitation. "Undoubtedly."
He moved closer. "It could ruin everything." He murmured, chancing the first touch to her hip.
Wash hummed, closing the gap between them until it nearly disappeared. "Or it could make everything perfect."
"Suppose it would be irresponsible not to find out which." He continued, bringing his free hand up to smooth over her cheek, delighting in the way her eyes fluttered closed for a second.
"Yes sir..." She breathed, before surging up to capture his lips for the first time.
He groaned as her mouth moved over his, pulling her closer with confident hands gripping hard - one tangling in her hair and one on her hip. Wash echoed him when his fingers caught on her dark tresses, her arms linking around his neck.
He would be a liar if he claimed never to have thought about this. About how she would feel in his arms and how she would taste to his tongue. The fantasies never struck him with much force while Ayani was alive - the thought of being unfaithful was repulsive to him even now - but Wash featured in his dreams with alarming speed after his wife's death. He wrote it off as his addled brain sorting through emotions, but as time went on he accepted their truth.
And while Ayani had fondly pointed out a younger version of Wash's case of hero worship regarding him, he hadn't dared think that this Wash, the one whose tongue was stroking his own, would have any interest in him after everything that had happened.
He felt her lips curve against his when he pressed his lower half firmly into her, his length half-hard against her lower stomach. She rocked her hips against him, letting her weight fall suggestively along his entire body and he slowly started to walk backwards, bringing her with him.
Once he had manoeuvred them around the desk he let his mouth trail lower, nosing the collar of her jacket out of the way. She moaned and he could feel the vibrations through her skin as he slipped the material off of her arms. Once she was free, Wash curled one hand around his bicep, sliding her fingers under his t-shirt sleeve. Her other arm shot out and swept the plexes to the ground, an action with Nathaniel rewarded by sucking hard at her pulse until she was laughing and moaning and clutching at him in the most fantastic way.
It took a lot of willpower to step away from her like this, but he did so just to give her room to hop up onto the desk. Once she was seated he struck, hands finding her belt immediately as he took her mouth again. She chuckled at his haste, at the way his fingers fumbled with her belt, but it quickly melted into breathy anticipation when he tugged the thick material of her pants down and let them hang around her ankles over her boots.
She watched him carefully now, trying to judge his next move and she smirked when he dropped to his knees, quickly unfastening her laces and pulling all of the clothing off of her legs. Bare from the waist down, it was easy for him to reach his intended target, and he pushed her knees wide to accommodate himself between, wasting no time in lowering his mouth to her core.
"Oh my god..." Wash whispered, falling back onto the desk as he licked along the full length of her folds, finishing up at her clit and drawing the bundle of nerves into his mouth without hesitation.
He hummed against her and she cried out, shifting impatiently as he continued to tease her. It was tempting to draw this out, to slowly learn every facet of her body and the reactions he could evoke, but they had time (finally, he could be confident they had time) and the situation now simply called for pleasure for this wonderful woman - lots of it, and soon.
Her leg hooked over his shoulder to draw him closer and he laughed at her eagerness, the vibrations of his chuckles rumbling through her and making her hips buck at the stimulation. Nipping at her clit he eased his arm up and over her hips, forcing her down into the desk with the not insubstantial weight of his forearm. She let out an irritated whine that morphed into a cry of pleasure at his tongue flattening over her nub, applying steady pressure to the sensitive area.
He followed her vocal cues, her utterances leading him down to slide his tongue into her heat completely, feeling her muscles pulse at the small intrusion. She shifted against his grip and he tightened his arm, feeling sharp pricks of her nails biting into him when he refused to let her move, the action her only way of expressing her frustration as she rode the waves of pleasure he was creating.
He travelled back to her clit once more and took it back into his mouth, sucking with increasing pressure until the low moan building within her turned into a more audible cry. Her body tensed, muscles going rigid in anticipation of release and so he stopped, sitting back on his heels.
It took a moment for Wash's lust addled mind to clue into what had happened, but soon enough she shot up, leaning on her hands to look down at him.
"Nathaniel." She uttered, sounding almost betrayed, as if she couldn't believe he would do such a thing.
He stood up, stealing a kiss and using his greater weight to force her onto her back once more. "Wanna watch you, Wash." He murmured, nuzzling at the underside of her jaw.
Any other woman might have let her cheeks colour at this, at his blatant desire and his lack of attempt to hide it. But no, not his Wash. When he pulled back he saw her flushed instead with pride, smiling broadly at him. She let her legs fall apart and guided his hand to her core, their linked fingers playing over slick skin.
The ease with which his fingers slipped into her left him a little breathless, the obviousness of her want for him. But it was nothing compared to the low growl that rumbled through her, a sound he had only ever dreamed of hearing from the woman beneath him, a sound which sent all of the blood remaining in his brain straight to his groin. He felt himself harden impossibly as she writhed at the action of his hand, the way his palm pressed into her folds and stimulated her clit while his fingers curled within her, seeking and finding something that made her back arch and the growl escalate to a deep moan.
"God." He heard, and he wasn't sure if it came from him, or from her but it was enough to make him shift, placing his hand beside her head so he fully leaned over her, faces level.
Her eyes opened as she sensed him move, her already dark eyes deeper and more expressive than he'd ever seen before. They shined with a sense of wonder, of belonging, of something he didn't want to put a name to. Her pupils were blown wide with extreme pleasure and she brought a hand up to clutch at the back of his head.
She held him in place, eyes locked on to hers as he worked her closer to the edge, until she was trembling, panting. Her gaze didn't falter even when the final twist of his fingers made her break, shouting his name into the otherwise silent office. Nathaniel watched, entranced, as her eyes rolled up and he felt her muscles clutching around him, felt the evidence of her orgasm as he drew out the sensations with skilful hands.
He drank her in as she slowly regained composure, her chest heaving, tanned skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat where her tank exposed her to him.
"Thank you." She murmured, voice full of wonder.
"What for?" He returned, hands moving to her sides and pulling her up while he stepped back.
She shrugged. "Felt right to say it."
"If anyone deserves thanks it's you, Wash." He said, wiping her hair out of her face tenderly.
She grinned wickedly, palm tracing over the obvious bulge in his pants. "This is all the thanks I need, sir." She said, fingers tracing the length of him as it strained against his zipper.
He groaned, not sure if it was her stimulation or her invocation of his title that gave him the greater thrill, and looked down at her as she went to pull her top over her head. He stilled her hand, knowing that even though they were in his locked office, they couldn't be too careful. She pouted playfully but understood his action and instead relocated her hands to his belt.
Her pleased little smile and purr of appreciation as she freed him from the confines of his underwear did wonders for his ego and he swelled in her grip when she squeezed. She looked up at him, a devilish fire burning in her eyes and then she leant forward and kissed away the liquid gathering on the head of his erection. Before he had a chance to protest she removed all contact and sat up straight. Her hands came to his shoulders and shoved, making him fall back into the obscenely large black chair the brass has seen fit to provide.
He didn't think this was the sort of use they had in mind when kitting out his office. But he certainly wasn't going to turn down the opportunity. He watched, rapt, as she slid to her feet and sidled up to him, bringing first one then the other knee to each side of his thighs, settling her weight over him.
When she sank down, slowly enveloping him in her heat, he realised quite how much he had missed this, the intimacy of such a moment. His eyes closed as pleasure washed over him, the feeling of completeness returning having spent too long away.
He felt Wash resting a hand gently on his jaw and opened his eyes to find her watching him curiously.
"Is this the first time since...?" She asked carefully. When he nodded, she smiled. "She'd be on our side you know."
"I know, and I'm not worried." He assured her. "Just didn't know quite how much I'd missed this."
Wash smiled reassuringly, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly as she slowly lifted off of him for the first time. He groaned into her mouth, hands coming to rest on her hips and guide her movements. She arched her back, pressing her chest into his as she she worked into a satisfying rhythm. He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, pressing his mouth to her skin as he tracked one hand slowly up her side, thumb teasing the side of her breast before it tangled in her hair once more.
He tilted her head so he could access more of her skin, and she moaned long and low when his hand tightened in her hair. Her own hands alternated their grasp, clenching the strong muscles of his upper arms and shoulders then switching to hold his head and keep his mouth on her.
He could feel her panted breaths in his ear as she moved over him, her legs gripping his firmly with each thrust. His soul felt lighter than it had in months being joined with her like this, sharing himself with her and receiving the same in reply. Their actions went further than just sex; this was a melding of their deepest selves, the next natural step in their relationship, utterly right despite what the regulations might say.
He felt his orgasm building quicker than he would have liked, the chance to savour the feeling after disappearing with every movement of the woman above him. The time to draw this out would come later, but for now he could tell Wash was focussed on returning the favour he had done her earlier, her internal muscles clenching him rhythmically to pull him closer to release. He could feel the heat coiling lower in his belly and started to thrust up into her, making her pants turn into gasps as he stroked over a sweet spot insider her.
Wash eased back to watch as he came, greedily drinking in his reactions and using them to fuel the path to her second orgasm, something he was dimly aware of as his blood rushed in his ears and his body hummed with satisfaction. He struggled with the desire to shout triumphantly so that people could hear them in the next building over, so that people would know what had happened - that he was hers and she was his, finally, at last.
She slumped against him when sated and he encircled her with his arms to hold her close, revelling in one final moment of closeness before the harsh reality of their lives came knocking once more.
"Are we even on the thank you's?" He asked quietly, smoothing a hand over her back under her tank.
She chuckled, kissing the sensitive spot just under his ear. "I think so sir."
Eventually Wash lifted off of him and grumbled with disappointment when he slipped from her body; it was too tempting not to just drink her in as she quietly redressed and it was only when she scowled playfully at him that he decided it was best to move too, pulling his fatigues back on with an odd feeling of emptiness.
The feeling was soothed when Wash moved in close to him once more, embracing him with a tenderness and ease that he would happily step 85 million years into the past to be able to have on a daily basis.
"Come back to me in one piece Wash." He commanded, smoothing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Hell of a thing if you get taken out and leave me to face this on my own."
"I'll be careful sir." She said, kissing him one final time and then walking to the door with a lightness in her step that hadn't been there before. "It's only Europe sir. I can handle that." She paused by the door, allowing her expression to melt into something fond. "I'll see you in a month."
"That you will. Be safe, Wash."
And she was, for the most part. When she returned with her arm in plaster (a break that could have been healed ten times faster if she hadn't ignored it in favour of helping her squad) and a killer scar on her upper back, Nathaniel had some choice words for her regarding what exactly constituted 'safe'. But she was back, she was with him and if they snuck into his office on the way to her debrief, well. No one needed to know.