First
Night First
Night Breakaway + ~ 4 yrs
She had actually said ‘yes.’ Alan had impulsively whispered his request at John and Helena’s wedding reception and if she had said ‘no,’ well… that didn’t bear thinking about. He realized it was a gamble he never would’ve risked if he hadn’t been slightly sloshed, and her answering smile had sobered him immediately.
He waited with only a semblance of patience as she picked up a few personal items before returning with him to his quarters. They could have stayed here at hers, but his were at the other end of the residential block nearer to the main Eagle Bay, and further away from the Command Center gossips. That sort of thing never bothered him but he knew it would Sandra. Alan snorted at the thought. Most of Alpha thought they were lovers already. He bet only the Command Staff and the Frasers had any idea how carefully and slowly he had been taking things over the past years. Indeed, as they had grown closer the last thing he’d wanted was Sandra either using him as someone to hide behind or thinking he had taken advantage of her. But he had to admit, that last temptation was becoming harder and harder to resist. Nonetheless, he had been the right gentleman and had minded his manners. Mostly. Alan chuckled ruefully at that thought; he certainly had used up more than his share of cold showers in the past year.
Carefully not pacing, he walked around her quarters looking at the diplomas she had finally hung after much encouragement from him. He could see so much potential in her. In the months after Breakaway, her quiet competence had become obvious to everyone; that was, until after Arkadia, when Paul had betrayed Alpha so uncharacteristically and thoroughly at Pyxidea. Alan still couldn’t think of Paul Morrow without a surge of raw anger. The bastard had almost killed Sandra by throwing her into that black depression. She’d been slowly starving herself before he had decided enough was enough. He had always fancied her, since before Breakaway if he were honest with himself, but now he knew down to his very bones that he loved her. And she was so nearly his, but only if he didn’t scare her away first.
He would ask her one more time, here in the safety of her quarters, to be sure she was sure before they took this next step. He hoped the answer would still be the same.
It was.
The door closed behind them quietly. She walked over to the closet, shook out her change of uniform, and hung it next to his. He rather liked the look of the yellow next to the orange. She passed him her jacket and belt and then tossed him an unreadable look as she entered the bathroom, overnight kit in hand, and closed the door. Was she having second thoughts?
The walk over had been quiet. Traveling the less frequented corridors they had missed the few Alphans reporting to a late duty shift or returning from rendezvous of their own. Sandra had said little, but that was not unusual. She had held tightly to the hand he had offered her but there had been no sweat of panic or fear nor hesitation as she walked at his side.
Kicking off his shoes, he took off his jacket and belt and laid them along with Sandra’s over the back of the nearest chair. He unhooked the commlocks and set them both on private mode. Only a yellow or red alert or a command code would set them off now. He sent a silent plea to Tony on duty in Command Center to keep Alpha quiet tonight of all nights. He took a quick look around his small suite. Thankfully, he had actually picked up this morning, but then again, the ever-organized Sandra was a good influence. Damn… he’d forgotten the shirt he’d left on the bed before going to the wedding. He ducked into the bedroom and scooped it up, wadding it into a small ball. He was still partially bent over preparing to shove it under the bed when the light coming from the doorway dimmed.
“You do not need to clean up on my behalf. I know how messy you can be.” There was a brief pause as in consideration. “Though to be fair, you have been getting better of late. You can almost find your desk in Reconnaissance.”
“Gee, thanks, Sahn,” Alan muttered as he stood up, surrendering any attempt at nonchalance and simply tossing the shirt into the far corner behind a chair. He turned around to face her and was stopped by a completely unexpected sight. Sandra stood barefoot in front of him gracefully leaning against the wall, her hands held loosely together in front of her. He tried to say something but his throat had gone completely dry. She was… unbelievable. She stood there in a high-collared shirt of a rich dark-golden fabric that seemed to shimmer just a little in the low light. The full sleeves were gathered at her wrists and the hem hung just below her knees obscuring the slender curves he knew were beneath. There were small mother-of-pearl buttons that ran the entire length, but which she had only buttoned part way. She looked small and childlike, vulnerable in a parents’ castoff shirt. He slowly crossed the few meters that separated them, moving with the same care he would have shown around a half-wild foal.
She stood still and watched him approach; her head tilted slightly, her dark eyes large and shining. She was so very beautiful. With slow, light fingertips, he traced the outline of her face and neck down the line of the shirt’s enticingly open collar. Her skin was smooth as silk. “Are you sure, Sahn? It’s alright to say no,” he asked yet again although he feared the hunger in his eyes would make a lie of that. Typically Sandra, she said nothing for the longest time but studied his face with care. He was uncertain what she saw there, but slowly and with searing regret withdrew his hand and gathered himself to turn away.
“Alan, no.”
Sandra reached out trustingly to take his hand and cup it to her cheek. She turned her face slightly to kiss the palm of his hand. He looked down at her, hope rising once more.
“I am very sure.”
It was a long, incredulous moment before her answer sunk in. His face finally broke out in a wide smile and he swept her up off her feet to spin around the small room triumphantly before carrying her over to the bed.
“Alan, put me down,” Sandra protested laughingly.
“Yes, ma’am.” With one hand, he pulled back the covers and placed her in the center of the bed. Smiling with giddy delight, he leaned over her and trailed a line of kisses from cheek to jaw line and down to that temptingly open collar, enjoying the shiver he felt run through Sandra’s slender frame. He felt her hands slip under the bottom of his shirt, the cool fingers tracing delightful patterns on the small of his back. Wanting to do whatever he could to encourage her, he sat up briefly and pulled the orange-sleeved shirt over his head and threw it in the corner to join its mate. Turning back, he found Sandra more than willing to share a wonderful, deep and heart-stopping kiss. The feel of her arms wrapped about his neck and the thin, silky smooth shirt between them was intoxicating. He could feel her breasts and hips brush against him in a manner that very nearly drove him out of his rational mind. He had been waiting so very long.
As Sandra pushed herself tighter against him, he had but a moment to be grateful that she had been with other men before. The last thing he needed right now was to worry about a virginal lover. However…he didn’t think she had trusted anyone enough since Morrow to actually sleep with them. It had been a long time for her he realized, longer for her than it had been for him. Pushing himself up a few crucial centimeters, Alan took a deep breath to help him refocus and slow down.
He turned his attention to all those buttons running the length of the golden shirt that stood between him and what he dearly wanted to explore. “I’ve never seen this shirt before, Sahn,” Alan muttered, temporarily thwarted by all those backward facing buttons.
“Nor should you have. It is what I sleep in, but only on special occasions.”
“Oh?”
“Oh.”
“Such as?” He wasn’t completely sure he wanted to know, but…
“Such as tonight.”
To his consternation, Sandra made a noise that almost sounded like a giggle as she watched him struggle with the small buttons. He smothered any other critique with a kiss. “Well then, could you please help as you are such the expert on buttons?”
Smiling slyly, she reached down and unbuttoned his pants.
“Right, that wasn’t exactly what I meant, but…” He slipped them off to join the shirts. This was going better than he could have ever hoped. If only he could peel her out of that blasted shirt.
He turned to find Sandra had anticipated his request. Lying on her back in the midst of the open folds of the golden shirt, what Alan found quite took his breath away. Sandra was simply exquisite. For once, the garrulous pilot was silent. Sandra reached out a hand and took his, pulling him back down to her. He readily obliged. She ran her free hand up his chest to his face, lingering to trace his lips with a feather light touch, and then around to the back of his neck to find purchase enough to pull him down to her for another heart stopping kiss.
Now, finally, and acting with a pilot’s confidence, Alan systematically explored every centimeter of his lover delighting in her softness and responsiveness. Rarely had he had a partner who so obviously enjoyed his touch. Touching, caressing and kissing he made his way down Sandra’s beautiful body. In one of those thoughts that always seem to pop up at the most awkward time, he realized with surprise that this was only the second time he had seen Sandra’s bare feet, and Retha had been quite a few years ago. Even during their evenings together in her quarters she padded around in soft slippers. He trailed his hand up from ankle, to thigh, to hip, to breast. As he leaned over to kiss her yet again, he realized the trust she was placing in him.
Sandra closed her eyes and turned into his caress as he ran the back of his fingers down her face and neck, lingering to trace the fullness of her breast and then resting his palm on her so slender belly. She was so slight he bet he could span her waist with both his hands. Alan stilled. He suddenly realized that he might have a problem on his hands, or rather, under them. He had never had a lover as small as Sandra. He might well squash her. His hands paused in their caresses.
“Alan?” Sandra looked up at him with puzzled eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” Sandra reassured him with a fey smile and hands that encouraged him to continue.
“I don’t mean that way; I mean I might flatten you after…”
Suddenly and to his complete surprise, Sandra managed to pull him down to the bed. He reflexively rolled over onto his back only to find Sandra now on top of him with the loose shirt fluttering about her. She kissed him with a thorough roughness that took his breath away. Straddling his hips she sat upright, her hands roaming to places that stole away what little breath he had managed to gasp. She finally paused to study the effect she was having on him. She looked pleased, he thought, almost like the proverbial cat with a bowl of cream.
“Where did you learn that move?” he asked, gratefully panting at the respite while Sandra tried to rearrange the encumbering folds of the nightshirt.
“From Yasko’s judo class,” Sandra answered distractedly as she apparently decided to give up on the nightshirt. She shrugged her shoulders and arched her back to slip the shirt off her arms and let it slide down to the floor.
Alan watched her unconscious grace completely mesmerized. Now unclothed, Sandra rested her hands on his belly for a moment, the small smile back on her face, before starting to run light fingers over his chest and abdomen. In a flash of recognition, he realized the patterns of sound waves going through testing modulations. Well, it certainly was a unique use of that knowledge. He watched her face and focused on the delightful sensations of Sandra’s skin against his own at many points, but every time her fingers passed over his belly, he shivered. She looked up and quirked an eyebrow in question.
“I’m ticklish.”
Sandra laughed, a delightful sound he heard much too rarely. With a look of pure mischief, she poised both hands over his middle, intentions plain.
“Oh, no, you don’t, love,” Alan made a grab for both small hands and brought them up to his face for a kiss. Then, still seeing the glint of mischief present, he nibbled the backs of her fingers to keep her distracted. The gradual change of expression on Sandra’s face gave him hope she had other intentions now and he cautiously released her hands. Off balance, Sandra quickly placed a hand on each of his shoulders and gently dug fingers into the firm muscles for support. Finding herself close to his face, she continued to lean over slowly until her breasts just touched his chest. He could see her widely dilated eyes, a smile lurking deep in their dark depths.
“So,” she whispered, “are you sure this is what you want, Captain Carter?”
“Oh, yeah.”
She leaned over that little bit more, her breasts now pressing against his chest and brushed her lips against his. “Good. Then what took you so long to ask?” Not awaiting an answer, she kissed him with an enthusiasm that belayed her usual reserve, her hands cool against his warm shoulders and face. Reaching around with one arm to hold her tightly against him, he ran his other hand up her slender length from waist to so-smooth back to long, slender neck until he tangled his fingers in her silky hair. Oh, yeah.
To Alan’s unexpected delight, Sandra set the pace for their first time, making sure events did not move too quickly for her pleasure. He closed his eyes and forced himself to patience as she explored and tasted and touched to her heart’s content. This might be the death of him, but it sure was a hell of a way to go.
Finally taking pity on him, Sandra again sat upright, and then with unexpected swiftness, joined her body to his and brought him to a climax that was the most exquisitely wonderful experience of his life. Finally sated, Sandra collapsed curling up next to him. Once the sweat of their exertions had cooled, she pulled the blanket over them both and pillowed her head on his shoulder, her arm and leg draped warmly over his body. Alan wrapped his arm around her to gather her even closer, chuckling to find she was completely limp with exhaustion.
He knew he would do anything to keep Sandra and Alpha safe. As his thoughts wandered over all the wonderful new possibilities before them, he idly wondered what Sahn would look like if she let her hair go long. And as he ran his fingers through her smooth, silken hair he heard a sleepy whisper, “Julia was right, after all.”
He looked down at the side of her sleeping face. He didn’t think he knew anyone named Julia here on Alpha, but he was glad she was right, about whatever it was. He closed his eyes too tired to stay awake any longer, and as he fell asleep one last stray thought ambled through his imagination… would their children have brown eyes, or blue?
21 Dec. 2005
MDG