It wasn’t John’s fault. Helena knew that and knew she just had to convince him or things would only get worse and she definitely didn’t want that. She looked around the small room. Everything was ready and she sent a ‘text only’ message to John’s commlock. She hoped he would accept this form of ‘therapy’ in the spirit in which it was intended.
There were a number of causes. Things had just been busy on Alpha. Sometimes things went smoothly, at others shortages or malfunctions made it difficult to believe they would survive in the short term, much less the long term. Tension ran high on Alpha and John was frequently the focus of any criticism, especially since he had taken on the burden of blame for insisting they remain here to survive rather than attempt a return to Earth. Most people didn’t realize how much it cost him personally to make that decision. Typical of human nature, they each considered their own problems more important than anyone else’s.
She knew another cause for John’s stress was her. He might never admit it out loud, but doctors intimidated him, and he’d had the misfortune to fall in love with one. She knew he sometimes wondered if she were privately diagnosing him when they were together. It wasn’t the first time she had been faced with this in a relationship. On the surface everything would seem fine, but eventually they wondered if she were psychoanalyzing them if they said or acted the least bit outside the norm. Lee hadn’t been like that, but she firmly pushed that thought aside. He was in the past and she had moved on. But the ghost of her former husband, as well as the ghost of John’s late wife, sometimes made their bed a bit crowded.
Whatever the cause, the past four times they had found time to be alone together, John had been unable to complete the act. It embarrassed and frustrated him. He had been extremely apologetic and done all in his power to please her physically, but she had certainly been unable to return the favor.
It wasn’t like they could take a lot of time off, or go away anywhere. On Alpha, there wasn’t anywhere to go. Even a quiet dinner together was likely to be interrupted by something or someone. And she couldn’t help him chemically. There simply were no stores of performance enhancing drugs on Alpha. Even though insurance companies on Earth were willing to pay for them, they hadn’t been something needed or stocked on Alpha, and they had no way to manufacture them here. And natural remedies were out of the question as well. There wasn’t an oyster in light-years.
This was the best she could do. Her commlock beeped softly, letting her know that John had received the message and confirmed. She moved behind some storage boxes that she had arranged as a screen and changed her clothes.
The room was only a storeroom, but it had the advantage of being someplace different, neutral territory. She’d made it as attractive as she could, draping a couple of the standard blue sheets on the walls to give it a less utilitarian look. There was also a blanket on the floor with the small picnic she had put together. There were fresh strawberries in the fruit salad. There was no wine on Alpha, something she and the nutrition staff wanted to work on, but there just wasn’t an abundance of any kind of fruit to make wine. She had managed a pitcher of juice laced with some of the alcohol they distilled for medicinal use. It wasn’t wood alcohol, there wasn’t enough wood here. It was closer to vodka in content but had the potency of a disinfectant and was just about as palatable when not disguised in juice. She knelt on the floor and poured two glasses.
The door swished open and John entered. He touched the button on his commlock and the door closed again behind him. He looked around the room with a smile. “Where did you find a hammock?”
She hesitated, but decided the truth was best. “I found it in Tony Cellini’s personal things when we cleaned out his quarters.” Tony had been one of John’s closest friends and Helena had helped John go through his personal items before turning them over to storage. The collection of primitive weapons had alarmed her. That tomahawk had not been the worst of the lot. It had looked like Tony was ready to set out on safari at any moment. The pictures of African animals interspersed with the weapons on display had heightened the effect. People brought some odd things to the moon in their personal weight allowance. She had found the nylon hammock in a corner of his closet and quietly decided not to turn that in to their general stores department.
John’s grief at Tony’s death had the opposite effect from his recent bout with stress. He had been eager to apologize to her, eager to make up with her, and just plain eager for her at very frequent intervals. Something about battling a monster to the death seemed to take his libido to amazing heights and for several weeks he had been unable to keep his hands off of her—his hands, as well as other things.
She stood and offered him one of the drinks. He took a sip and grimaced.
“Sorry, it was the best I could come up with.”
“I know.” He gave her a soft kiss, almost shy.
She pointed to the back of the room. “I brought you a pair of gym shorts. I thought you might want to be out of uniform too.”
He put an arm around her. “Why don’t we get completely out of uniform?”
She was wearing a pair of denim shorts herself, as well as a black strapless bra. When she’d packed to come to Alpha, seduction had been the furthest thing from her mind, so now she was having to make do with her wardrobe as well as everything else. But, John seemed to be enjoying the view. She shook her head. “Remember our rules. This afternoon is just to relax. Nothing below the waist.”
He sighed and handed back the drink. “All right, all right. But I don’t see how that’s going to relax me.” He disappeared behind the screen. “Can you cut that stuff with some more juice?”
“I’ll try,” she answered and knelt on the blanket again.
He returned barefoot and bare-chested and settled on the blanket beside her. She fed him a small strawberry and he reclined on one elbow, watching her with a smile. She knew the strapless bra was entertaining him. She had always hated it, certain she would fall out of it any second. It went with a formal dress that she had brought to Alpha to wear on those few occasions when her rank required her to attend a VIP dinner; but at least John seemed amused by it.
It was relaxing, just to sit and talk. They gossiped about other Alphans, talked about foods they missed from Earth, restaurants they had been to. Being in the space program, they had lived in many of the same places and had mutual haunts on Earth before coming to Alpha. The tone remained nostalgic, but not homesick. Talk turned to their most optimistic dreams for the future, perhaps finding a planet to live on. They wondered if it would be better for them to find a place already inhabited by some sort of civilization, or a primitive world where they would be on their own. She settled herself against his stomach, lying perpendicular to him. He reached over her shoulder and played with the bra, caressing and teasing the tops of her breasts.
“Want to try the hammock?” she asked lazily. The cocktail she had created had given her a mellow floating buzz.
John flicked a finger under the cup of the bra, grazing her nipple, which tightened at the attention. “You think we’ll fit?”
“It does look pretty flimsy, but it’s net, and expands.”
It was a foldable hammock that could be twisted down into a ball smaller than a softball. There were no bars at the end to spread it out.
John stood and examined the hammock, testing how she had hung it. It seemed sturdy enough. He looked around the room at the boxes. “What is stored in here? It gives off the odor of dirty sneakers.”
“It does have a kind of locker room fragrance about it. I have just the thing.”
Helena moved to a box hidden by one of the sheets and drew out a small glass jar with a candle in it. One of her former co-workers on Earth had given it to her as a going away present. She had explained that stress came with the job of CMO and the package was to help her relax. It was a little gift set of aroma therapy, potpourris, scented oil, and this lavender candle. Her friend was right, the job was stressful, even before Breakaway. All that was left was this candle. She lit the candle and set it on top of a stack of boxes while John climbed into the hammock.
There was a good deal of laughter as the two negotiated for a stable and comfortable position in the hammock. When they finally achieved a balance, John pressed his lips to Helena’s in a kiss that went from light to passionate in only a few heartbeats. His hand moved her bra out of the way and caressed her, then moved down her body. When he reached her shorts she pulled his hand back up.
“Above the waist,” she reminded him.
“For both of us?” he asked with surprise.
“Yes, both of us,” she laughed.
He moved his hand back up and unfastened her bra. “Oh, all right,” he agreed, removing the bra and giving her an appreciative look. The movement set the hammock swinging but once they were sure they weren’t going to fall out, they relaxed again.
“Nice place,” he told her. “Nice view.” He gave her a significant look to let her know which view he was talking about. He bent to kiss her again just as an alarm went off.
The both jumped, setting the hammock to swing again, which hampered their ability to get up.
“What is it?” Helena asked.
“The fire alarm,” he replied. “Oh, damn! It’s the candle!” He struggled to get out of the hammock. He would have dumped Helena on the floor if her quick reflexes hadn’t landed her on her feet as he rolled one direction and she the other. He blew out the candle, then looked askance as the absence of the flame increased the smoke output.
He had just enough time to grab her wrist and pull her behind the boxes before the fire control crew opened the door, garbed in their silver suits and clutching fire extinguishers.
John crouched down, pulling Helena to him and cupping his hands over her breasts. Since it was the only covering she had, she didn’t struggle.
“What’s this?” One of the crew said as they entered the room.
“Looks like we interrupted a party,” another said, the suit hood and mask muffling his voice. “Of the small, intimate kind.”
“Yeah. Here’s the culprit. A candle.”
“Open flame! In a storage room. Wonder what idiot did this?”
“They must have run when the alarm went off.”
“Well, wouldn’t you? The Commander would skin them alive, pulling something like this.”
“Oh, nice. Whoever she was, she was certainly built. Think we should turn it over to Security, let them see who it fits?”
Helena stirred. They must have picked up her bra. John held her tight.
“The guys would be standing in line for that job. We could call them now, tell ‘em to be on the lookout for two people without any clothes on running through the hall.”
Helena leaned back against John, struggling not to make any noise. This was so embarrassing.
“Naw, let’s give ‘em a break,”one of the men said. “We’ll report it was a false alarm. Give these idiots a chance to come back for their stuff. Why get them in trouble with the Commander just for trying to get a little nookie. Put that down.”
“He’ll probably set us to work looking for the fault.”
“No harm done. We check the wiring all the time. Won’t hurt to go over it again, come on.”
The team left, their stiff suits rustling as they turned and headed out the door. John stayed put, still clutching Helena. Both held their breath, waiting to make certain the coast was clear.
Helena finally gave a sigh of relief and John let go. He had held her so tight he left handprints. Helena put her hands to her face. “What if they had decided to check the rest of the room?”
“I guess I would have had to give us a reprimand. I should have thought about the fire control system.”
“I should have too.” She shook her head, then looked up at John. “You’re laughing!” she accused.
He laughed harder and pulled her to him. “It could have been much worse. I was thinking about their reaction if they had come around that corner and found us here.”
“It would have been all over the base! Oh, John!”
He kissed her to stop her protests and moved his hands down her body, massaging her and coaxing her to relax.
“Remember, above the waist,” she cautioned when they came up for air.
“I don’t think we have to worry about that any more,” he murmured into her ear, pressing closer to her. He kissed her deeply again.
“Oh, John!” she exclaimed again, and he led her back to the blanket. This time, there would be no candles.
Ellen Lindow
March, 2004