What the Lady Wants

By:  M. J. Cogburn and C. E. Krawiec

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Moving to Trevor's side, she sat down on the edge of the bed and just watched him for a moment.  The soft rising of his chest, way that his long eyelashes were laying against his cheek was enough to send her into another tizzy.

She finally found it difficult to not touch the handsome man on the bed.  Reaching out, she brushed the back of her fingers against his cheek and softly called his name.  "Trevor..."

Hearing a sigh escape his lips, the next words that issued from him made her blink in surprise. 

"Madeline," he called silkily before his eyes slowly opened and he met her gaze.  Smiling up at her through his dazed sleepy vision, he reached up, ran his hand along the back of her neck, and brought her down to meet his lips.  As soon as they met, Trevor couldn't stop his hands from roaming over her body, nor could he stop the way that his body was reacting to her touch.

A small inkling of guilt assaulted him; however, Trevor pushed it aside when she once again climbed atop of him and fell into the needy motions that began to mount between the two.

PART ONE

Every squad of new recruits quickly learned that even the one day allotted them off from the rigors of training still had certain things that had to be attended to, like doing their laundry.  So it was that the fort's laundry facility was usually busy. While the officers and non-commissioned officers had the luxury of the laundry service available, all recruits had to take care of doing their own laundry.  So it was that Rick Donnelly was exiting the facility, his duffle full of clean and precisely folded laundry when he caught sight of a familiar figure on crutches moving slowly his way.  A grin crossed his lips as he sauntered over to intercept Trevor.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty, I wondered if you were ever gonna wake up," he ragged.

Taking care to balance himself on the crutches, Trevor took the ribbing in stride.  "Hey, I've been here long enough to know that when I've got a chance to sleep in a while, I don't let the opportunity get away."

Rick just chuckled. "You've got it easy, at any rate," he replied, indicating his duffel bag. "At least you get to use the laundry service. Not like us 'dog faces' that have to do our own."

Trevor just grinned. "Don't sweat it, Donnelly. Soon as I'm off these crutches, I'll be just another 'dog face' washing his clothes like the rest of you guys."

Rick laughed. "So where are you off to now?"

Without missing a beat, he glanced down at his injured foot then back to his friend. "My dreams were interrupted about thirty minutes ago.  I got a reminder that I have to go to the infirmary this morning to get my ankle checked."  Sighing as he shifted his weight and adjusted his balance on the crutches a bit, he added, "I will be so glad to get off these damned things that it's not funny."  His words prompted him and he asked, "What time is it?"

Rick checked his watch. "Let's see...it's 10:51."

"I better get a move on," Trevor said, preparing to continue on his way.  "My appointment's at 11:00. Later, man," he called then altered his direction and made his way to the infirmary.  It seemed luck was on his side this morning, enabling him to arrive a full two minutes early for his appointment.

Another recruit from a different training platoon was just coming out of the medical building and held the door open for Trevor.  Once inside, his luck continued and he went straight to the desk sign in, and was instructed by the nurse receptionist at the desk, "You can go on back to Room 5, Mr. Conroy."

Once in the room and settled on the examination table --and grateful that the only thing he had to take off was his boot and sock--Trevor was feeling pretty good by the time a nurse came into take his temperature and check his blood pressure.  That done, he settled back to wait for the doctor who, as it turned out, must have been waiting in the hall for as quickly as he appeared.

"So, Mr. Conroy," Captain Adrian Zandos commented as he scanned Trevor's medical chart. "How's that ankle doing today?"

Trevor grinned at Dr. Zandos.  “Better than the armpits, sir.”  Seeing the amused expression cross his doctor’s face Trevor added, “I’ll be glad when I can turn these things in, sir.”

Adrian turned his head and grinned as he placed the chart down and approached Trevor.  “Let me take a look and see if we can make that happen.”  Not noticing the edema he’d seen earlier in the week, Adrian reached out and placed one hand on Trevor’s heel and the other on his ankle caused Trevor to jump unexpectedly.  “What?  Are you in pain?”

Trevor shook his head as he slightly blushed.  “No sir.  Your hands are like ice.”

Captain Zandos laughed heartily before he continued to examine Trevor’s injury.  “I want to see you walk without your crutches.”

Trevor nodded then carefully hopped off the table onto his good foot and hobbled several steps, turned then hobbled back. 

“So, how does it feel?”

“Better.  The pain is half of what it was.”

“Then you get your wish, recruit.”

“Sir?”

“Lose the crutches.  Your ankle will be wrapped.  You’ll be able to walk, but not run until the pain vanishes.  We’ll recheck it again in a few days and go from there.”

“Thank you, sir,” Trevor said with a genuine smile.

“I’ll get one of the nurses to wrap your foot.  Watch carefully because you’ll have to re-bandage it when you need to shower.”  Captain Zandos picked up Trevor’s chart where he had placed it, wrote down his findings then turned to Trevor.  “Don’t worry about the DI.  I’ll call him myself and let him know the results of today’s visit and my prognosis.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, Recruit Conroy.  Have a good day.”

By the time Trevor had watched the nurse wrap his ankle then headed back over to the barracks without his crutches, it was almost 12:15.  Moving carefully, he managed to get to his bed, find the meal Rick had been so good to get, and ate.

Even though he hadn’t done much on his day off, Trevor felt extraordinarily tired.  After putting his dirty trays back on the side table, he stripped out of his clothes, slid down under his covers and nestled his head on his pillow.  Sighing, he relaxed and let sleep take him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Knowing better than to knock on the door, Madeline Tenney opened the door of her sweetheart’s quarters and peered inside.  Seeing Rick gone and a covered body from head to toe, she smiled slightly as she entered and headed toward the bed.

Stopped at the side of the bed, she slowly lowered herself down and saw the figure underneath the covers shift slightly, the cover coming down off of his head.  She couldn't help but smile.  He looked so angelic laying there, his eyes closed.

"Trev?" she whispered softly.  She reached out and gently touched his right shoulder and called his name once more.  "Trev?"

Within the ethereal and at the moment opaque boundaries of his dream, Trevor felt something.  The something...a touch was so soft as to make him wonder, but then as he obeyed the dream's bidding, he just smiled to himself, vaguely admonishing his dream self..."...just a dream..." He drifted along a bit further on the gentle eddies of the dream, letting it take him where it would. Then he heard a sound...a single soft word brought to his hearing. It took a moment for him to recognize it but he did.  Trevor's response to the recognition was to feel his brow wrinkle slightly even as he pulled the covers closer over him again. "Go 'way, Donnelly."  A soft chuckle attempted and partially succeeded in luring him up a tad out of slumber.  Wriggling a bit, he muttered, "You sound like a girl. Whatsa matter...shorts too tight?"  Within his dream, Trevor grinned at the comment and prepared to fall deeper into sleep.  It didn't happen.

Madeline couldn't help but grin at Trevor's words, deciding to play a bit with him.  "And here I thought that you liked the shorts tight... or... is it that you like them just off?" she asked softly with a knowing smile on her lips. 

Trevor wasn't sure whether he wanted to be annoyed that his roommate was picking at him like his younger brother, Ron, had done on occasion when they were teenagers, or not. The notion lasted only a second and grinned slightly, unaware that it was showing on his face. "Don't know 'bout you," he mumbled softly, his eyes still firmly shut, "but I like 'em off." He chuckled softly, adding, "Things...feel better without 'em." Another thought nudged him and he let it out, too. "Easier to..."

"Easier to what, Trev?"

Trevor chuckled, enjoying his just below the surface of sleep joke. "Easier to move things around."

Madeline chuckled softly as she shook her head and realized just how much she loved being with him.  "I see," she said softly before she straightened up and slowly began to un-button her blouse.  She had already stripped off her shorts when she carefully moved back down.

In his joking manner, and a soft chuckle, Trevor had moved slightly enough in the bed and placed his hands up behind his head.  Madeline took her cue from his joking manner and decided that it was time for him to wake up and remember her.  Raising the sheet that was covering him, she slipped in between the sheets and put one hand on his bare chest, slightly circling before her hand dropped down to his abdomen.  "How much easier to move, Trev?"

A joke was a joke, even in a dream, but it started to lose its "funny" when cooler air rushed over his body when the blanket and sheet was lifted. "Hey," he protested. "What the hell..."  The rest of the thought vanished, taking the dream with it when he felt a warm body stretch out against him. "Donnelly, have you lost your mind?" he demanded. Even that was forgotten when a hand traced a lazy circle on his chest before slipping down to rest on his bare abdomen, his eyes flying open even as he made a grab for the hand before it could go any further.  Then through the startled shock came realization - it wasn't his roommate's amused blue eyes he was staring into.

"Wh... what?" he babbled then babbled it again as Madeline Tenney repeated her question.  He was so stunned to see...and feel...her so close that his thoughts were a total jumble.  "Madeline... what... are you... doing... here, I mean?"

Trevor would have been lying through his teeth if he hadn't--silently--agreed with the lovely naked woman as she demonstrated her response of, "Just what you said, Trev.  I'm...moving.  What do you think... am I doing it right?" The only response Madeline Tenney got was a low groan.

Madeline continued to seductively wiggle her body against Trevor knowing exactly what she was doing to him.  Even as she lowered her head to his chest placing soft kisses there, Trevor let go of her hand only to caress her face.

“Maddie, what are you doing here?  Rick could come back any…”

Madeline’s hand dipped lower and silenced Trevor with a single solitary touch of her hand.  “Who cares about Rick?” she asked huskily as she leaned up and brushed her lips against hers.  “Be with me, Trev. Don’t worry about anyone else but me.”  Once more, her hand stroked against his skin causing Trevor to gasp.

“Maddie, I…”  Again, Trevor’s words were halted as she caught his lips with her own.

“Come here, Trevor.  Show me.  Touch me….”  This time as Trevor rolled her onto her back, Madeline Tenney realized this time he was responding in kind.  Not just in action but emotion.  His kisses were more demanding, but a softer demand than they had been before.

She moved her mouth away from his barely for a moment before she whispered heatedly as Trevor slowly and deliberately moved her legs apart.  “Don’t do this because your body tells you to, but only do it if your heart tells you too, Trevor.”

His eyes met hers for a moment as he looked down into her beautiful green eyes.  He brought his hand up to her cheek, caressing her skin.  Even as her legs began to wrap around his own, the words tumbled out of his mouth as his body joined with hers.  “My heart tells me too, my own.” 

“Oh Trevor,” Madeline gasped as she let her arms twine around his neck as they lost count of time and continued a dance that was timeless.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Project Alexander

Somewhere in the British Isles

The walls within central control reverberated from the growl that was let loose.  The parallel-hybrid super computer put another mark against Trevor Conroy’s name.  Even as he turned his attention to his daughter who was in Allen McAllister’s presence watching as Gillis Woods left their company, he was more than pleased with what Gillis had told Siren.  Even though there wasn’t anyone in Central Control to hear him, he murmured dissonantly to the man at Ft. Hildren .  “Mr. Conroy, you may give the lady what she wants, tell her what she wants to hear, but when it all comes down to it, the only reason why you aren’t dead where you stand is because of my daughter and your children within her belly.  They are going to be dependent on you, and you will honor her when you come back to the project or your hide will be mine.”