Sins of Omission

By
LadyMoonHawke


    Jon woke to the awareness of fingers toying with his hair, brushing gently across his forehead,  With lightning reflexes he snatched at them,  fingers wrapping around a slim wrist, pulling it away.  Carefully, he opened his eyes, grateful when he realized that the room was dimly lit.

    A pretty woman with dark hair and eyes was smiling at him. There was something vaguely familiar about her.  A former client, maybe.

    “Hi,” she said softly.  “You’ve been out cold ever since you got back.”

    He tried to speak, but his dry mouth and throat gagged him as effectively as anything his more sadistic clients had ever used.

    She gently disengaged her wrist from his now-lax grip and reached to the side.  He was able to watch as she picked up a glass of clear liquid, a straw already in place.  “You should probably go slow on this at first.  We don’t know what you may have been eating or drinking.”  She held it out for him, but he regarded it with suspicion, glancing from the glass to her.  He pointed from the glass to her, realizing that only one of his arms was free.  The other was restrained, and he had the too-familiar feeling of a needle in his elbow.  He reached for it, but she stopped him gently.  “Don’t.  It’s just saline.  My word on it.  You want me to drink some of this first, to prove it’s safe, right?”

    He nodded, and she smiled again.  Once, he might have called it dazzling, but not it was just another meaningless expression.

    She complied, wrapping red lips around the end of the straw, sucking deeply, and he watched the water level dip, then rise again slightly as she swallowed.  “Okay?” she asked, and he nodded.  She opened his mouth to accept the straw, wincing as the corner of his dry lips cracked.  She saw it, and set the glass aside despite his anguished look.  “Just a second, I promise.  You’re going to hurt enough in the next few days.  There’s no point in adding more pain now.”  She pawed through a bedside drawer.

    He didn’t bother to try communicating that the pain was here already.  It was somewhere in the distance and of little interest now, but it was there.

    “Ah-hah!” she crowed.  Triumphantly, she revealed her prize.  It was a slim white tube, blue capped, with some text that interested him not at all on it.  She pulled the cap off with a soft ‘pop,’ revealing a waxy substance that gleamed dully.  Lip gloss or some other feminine frippery.  It had no scent, not that he cared.

    “It’s moisturizer,” she informed him.  She traced it around her own lush lips first, and he felt absolutely nothing.  Then she rubbed her finger across the top of the tube.  “It will help.”  She waited til he nodded, and she reached out and gently spread it around his lips.

    Damn it!  Why didn’t it move him?  He could feel the pressure of her finger, it’s slick slide around his lips, but he felt no stir of desire, or even basic need.  Why did he feel nothing?

    Slowly, she pulled her finger away, recapping the tube and setting it aside.  Then she retrieved the glass.  “Ready?”

    He nodded, opening his mouth again, and had to admit to himself that it did feel better.  He moved to sit up and realized that he was already more of less upright.  She guided the straw into his mouth, and her grasped it eagerly, sucking greedily.  He could taste her on the straw, the bitter tang of coffee predominant, and under it, the oil and vinegar base of salad dressing.  He gagged involuntarily and started to cough.

    “Take it easy,” she advised with a soft laugh, rubbing his back until he leaned away abruptly.  “You don’t want to lose it all the hard way.”

    The first sip soaked into the parched membranes of his mouth, leaving him with nothing to swallow.  He fought to moderate his greed after that, and felt oddly pleased to receive her smile of reward as she observed his efforts.

    Emptying the glass, he turned his head and let the straw slide out from his lips, fighting back the memory of other things sliding out of his mouth, and the accompanying nausea.

    “I know you…”  So disinterested was he that his question sounded more like a statement, earning him another dazzling but unmoving smile.

    “Yes.  I didn’t think you’d remember.  You were my Senior Cadet.”

    He watched a tendril of memory slowly reveal itself, a Freshman Cadet with serious brown eyes and a complicated knot of hair at the base of her skull.  She’d chattered as much as a myna bird, but every word had been insightful and entertaining.

    “You’re the girl who was trying to break all my records.”  It was getting easier to speak.

    The smile was back.  “Yes.  I never did catch up to all of them.  Listen, I need to tell my father you’re awake and Will is coming soon with your meds.  You’re on Methadone Maintenance Therapy right now for heroine addiction.  Heroine withdrawal is some of the worst you can tackle, and it’s a lot easier on the patient to wean him or her down on Methadone.  You’re going to feel like crap for a long time, but I promise it will get better.”

    She turned to put the glass aside, and a peculiar feeling of gratitude washed over him.  Uncertain of how to express it, he grasped her free hand and sucked a finger into his mouth, stroking it sensuously with his tongue with a  practiced gesture.

    The glass thunked hard on the side table and she whirled back to face him.  “Jon…” she said softly, her she didn’t yank her hand away.

    He released her finger slowly and slid his hand up along her sleeve and wove his thin fingers through the loose hair at the back of her head.  He drew her down slowly and she didn’t resist, til they were mere inches apart.  “I wish I remembered your name,’ he said in a practiced husky whisper.

    “Aurora Stargazer.”

    He pulled her the rest of the way down, swallowing her gasp as he kissed her, teasing her lips apart, drawing her coffee-flavored tongue out, plundering her warm mouth with his own.  Every move had been practiced over and over, and he moved through them now without conscious thought.

    Aurora pulled away at last, panting, eyes wide with shock.  “Jon…”

    “You need to go see your father,” he reminded her.  “I’ll see you later.”  He settled back on his pillows and closed his eyes.

    Aurora stood on shaky legs and moved toward the door.  “Later,” she echoed, slipping out.  Once in the hall, she leaned against the corridor wall, trying to catch her breath.  She was tempted to lean over and put her head between her knees, but it wouldn’t do to have the interim first officer trying not to faint in the hall.  Once composed, she moved swiftly toward her father’s office.

    Alone in his quarters, Jon rolled slightly, hampered by his restrained arm.  He should have had her release it while she was there.  Why did it have to be that girl, the smart myna bird come back to roost in his life, tasting of coffee he could no longer tolerate?  Deliberately, he pushed away the fragile emotions just beginning to form.  He didn’t need her.  He didn’t need anyone.



    Jon didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep again until he woke up.  After Aurora had left, the shakes and pain had swelled back to the surface, large and demanding immediate attention.  Before he could bring himself to call anyone though, the door had slid open and Will had entered.  The Steel Twin had chatted volubly for a while, variations on a theme of how good it was to have Jon back and how everything would be back to ‘normal’ soon.  Jon had resisted the urge to laugh, too wracked with tremors and pain to reply.  Then Will had injected something through a joint in his IV and within seconds, the trembling had stopped and a familiar feeling crept through him.  It wasn’t the sweet burn of the heroine, but it was close enough.  His pounding heart slowed and his muscles unlocked, enabling him to move.  Will had unstrapped his arm and helped him to the bathroom and back.  It must have been a more exhausting trip than he had thought.

    Now he woke from a dreamless sleep to see the Commander seated in a nearby chair, legs crossed and arms folded, watching him intently.

    “Aurora said you were awake,” he said gruffly.

    “I was when she left,” Jon said, sitting up more.

    “You look like hell, Lieutenant.”

    His answering grin held more irony and amusement.  “That just about sums up how I feel, so I guess that’s good.”

    Stargazer’s expression softened minutely.  “Whatever it takes to get you well, son, we’ll do it.  Whatever you need, however long it takes.  You still have a job here when you’re ready to get back to work.”

    “Will said your daughter was pretty good in that department,” Jon said testily.

    “She’s holding up her end,” Stargazer allowed.  “The others have been cutting her some slack since you were found.  They’re pretty damned loyal to you.”

    “They’re a good team,” Jon said listlessly.  “I’m sure if she’s a good officer she can handle them.  That kind of thing runs in families, right?”

    “She has the instincts, but not your experience,  Once you’re back in the saddle, as the Cowboy would say, she’ll be shadowing you, picking your brain, learning from the best.  And she’ll take some of the pressure off your shoulders.”

    Jon nodded.  “Yeah.  I guess.”

    Stargazer stood.  “You get to know her.  You’ll see.  She’s a good girl, a smart girl.  And she has a reverse turn punch that will have you seeing start.”

    A strange sound invaded Jon’s ears, and he realized it was him, laughing.  “I’ll remember that.”

    “We’ll get you back into physical training as soon as you can stay on your feet longer than it takes to get to the head and back.”  He clapped Jon fondly on the shoulder.  “Rest up, boy-o.  You’re gonna need it.”


    The Commander hadn’t been gone five minutes when Jon started hearing sounds from the front room of his suite.  “Hello?” he called.

    Aurora appeared at the door to his bedroom a moment later.  “Hi.”

    “Hey.  What’s going on out there?”  Then the smell of food drifted in, and his stomach growled in hunger.

    “Will said I could bring you something.  And, if you’re willing to try walking that far, you can eat at the table like a person.”  She smiled brightly.

    The joke didn’t interest him, but the meal did.  “Real food?” he asked.

    She waggled an outstretched hand from side to side, comme si, comme sa.  “Sort of.  Liquid diet only for a few days.  But they scared up the best Jell-o they could find in the mess for you,  No coffee, though.  Sorry.”

    “No coffee,” he repeated, shaking his head.

    “Will said it would be too hard on your system.  You’ve got your choice of juices, though, to make up for it.  Whatever flavor you want.”

    What flavor does the tom-cat want tonight?   He hadn’t cared then, as long as he got the heroine to go with it.  He shook his head sharply, trying to clear the memory, to wake himself from the living nightmare.  Or maybe he was already dead, and this was heaven.  Were angels bright-eyed chatterboxes?  Somehow, he didn’t think so.  “No juice,” he said softly.

    She was pulling sweats from his drawer.  “Hmmm?”

    “No juice,” he repeated louder.  “Just water or…”  Pretty tom-cat likes his milk, doesn’t he?  “Just water.”

    “Sure.”  She stood by the bed, holding a pile of clothes, and he saw that she remembered underwear.  He wasn’t sure whether to feel embarrassed or relieved.  It would be nice to feel either.  Something to chase away the rapidly settling sense of self-loathing.  “Do you want some help with these?”

    He held up his arm, displaying the IV and the track marks above and below it.  “I’m stuck here.”

    Aurora set the clothes on the bed.  “I can fix that.”  She rummaged in the drawer a moment and produced a Band-Aid and a cotton ball.  “Just hold very still for a moment.  You don’t have to look if you don’t want to.”

    He watched as she pinched off the lines to the nearly empty IV bag, then held the cotton ball over the needle and deftly pulled it from his arm.  She bent his arm up to hold the cotton and broke the needle into a red ‘Biohazard’ container.  Then she returned to his side and plastered the bandage over his arm.   None of the marks seemed to phase her at all.  “Where did you learn that?”

    “I used to work summers in high school at the hospital.  Got as far as a nurses aid before I realized that I cared too much for the patients.  I was miserable every time someone I had worked with died.  I realized I could never be a medic.  I always wanted to go into the service.”  She patted the clothes.  “So shall I stay or wait in the other room?”

    “I’ll do it myself.  But I don’t know if I can…”

    “You call me when you’re dressed.  I’ll help you to the table.”  She pulled loose the tie at the back of his neck, then smiled and left.

    He waited until the door had closed, then flipped back the blankets.  His legs were scrawny now, pale and marked with scarred and still healing wounds.  Moving slowly, he worked the boxers up slowly, then the sweatpants, then he had to rest for a moment.  It must have been a long moment, because there was a knock at the door.

    “You doing okay in there?  Need some help?”

    “I’m fine,” he snapped.  He took a deep breath and dragged the sweatshirt over his head.  It hid the worst of the abuse to his chest, covering the marks that matched those on his legs.  “I’m done,” he called out.  She would have been inquiring again within seconds, he was sure.

    The door opened promptly and she entered, smile fixed firmly in place.  “I know what I’m doing here, so it’s best if I lead this dance.  Swing your legs around and sit on the edge of the bed.”  He did as she directed and she moved in next to him, pulling his left arm, the one without the bandage, across her shoulders and wrapping her right arm around his waist.  “Okay.  Now stand up slowly, and don’t be afraid to lean on me.  I’m stronger than I look.”

    He did as she directed and they made their way slowly and carefully to the main room where he was able to sink into a chair at the small table.  She had laid out the food from a mess hall tray, and had apparently removed the aforementioned juice, for which he felt a small spark of gratitude.  There was a bowl of broth and another of gleaming blue gelatin that made him smile.  “I’ve never eaten blue jell-o before.  I saw it, but I never tried it.”

    “Well, here’s your big chance.”  She poured water into an empty glass at his place, then filled another and sat in the other chair.


    They were halfway through the meal, Aurora chatting quietly as Jon ate his soup and Jell-o, when there was a knock at the door.  “Enter,” Jon said, setting his spoon down.

    The door slid open and Zan entered.  She’s clearly just gotten up, and was wearing a pair of faded and ripped jeans, and as sleeveless shirt.  Ragged scars criss-crossed her upper arms.  Aurora’s eyes widened when she saw them, but she said nothing.

    Zan nodded to her but said nothing,  She approached Jon slowly and reached out carefully, gently lifting his chin and staring into his eyes.  They held that pose for a long moment. Then Zan released him and nodded as if to herself.  She gave Aurora another look, then turned and walked out of the room.

    The silence was absolute until she was gone and the door shut.  Then Aurora blinked a couple of times.  “Well,” she said, her voice a touch too loud.  “That was certainly different.  A touch surreal, even.  What do you suppose she wanted?”

     “I’m not sure I could explain,” he replied, “even if I knew.”

    She thought a moment, then smiled and shrugged it off.  “Are you ready to start into training again?  The Twins are going to handle to heavy stuff, but eventually I’m going to have to evaluate you for physical condition.  Have to be sure you can handle the job again.”  He nodded, and she realized he was drifting off.  “Hey,” she said, reaching out to shake him gently.  He started at her touch and his eyes darted around the room, panicking for a moment.  “It’s okay.  You were falling asleep.”

    “Oh.  Sorry.  Didn’t realize how tired I was.”

    She stood up.  “Let me help you over to the head, then I’ll straighten this stuff up, and I can help you back to the bed.”

    They made their way through the bedroom to the bathroom door, and she left him there.  “You’re not coming in?”

    She shook her head,  “Not unless you want me to.”

    “No.  I’ll…I’ll be fine.”

    She returned to the table and restacked the used dished on the tray, listening for the rush of water.  Then she helped him from the bathroom to the bed, but he balked at lying down.  “I want to clean up some before I go back to bed.”

    “Do you want me to get Will?”

    “No.”  He stared at the floor.  “Would you…would you ask Zan to come in?”

    The smile froze on her face.  “Of course,” she said brightly, smoothing back a flopping lock of hair and trying to ignore his slight flinch.  He didn’t flinch when Zan touched him, damnit.  “Anything you want.”  She leaned it and kissed him gently, breaking away only after he had responded.  “Just a few minutes.”  She slipped from the room as he stared into space.


    Aurora entered the mess, smile plastered on her face.  She picked out Zan in a corner immediately, but made no move to approach her.  She returned to tray to the kitchen and killed some time chatting in there, the helped herself to a cup of coffee and headed for the far exit, the one nearest Zan’s table.  

    “Jon asked me to let you know he’d like a hand cleaning up,” she said casually.

    She looked up from a sheet of paper she was reading. "Oh? All right." She folded the sheet and tucked it into a back pocket, then picked up her cup of tea as she stood and headed to Jon's room.


    Zan entered to find Jon sitting on the bed where Aurora had left him.  “Hey,” she said softly.

    “She kissed me,” he said softly.  “Why?”

    “Couldn’t tell you.  Maybe you should ask her,” Zan answered, making a mental note to do so herself.  “Let’s get you cleaned up, eh?”

    She helped him back into the bathroom and waited while he struggled out of his sweats and into the tub.  She was careful to let him try everything on his own first and only offered help when he seemed to be truly struggling.  He sank into the water, pulling his knees to his chest, and she knelt on the floor outside the tub.  She picked up the sponge and offered it to him.  "I'm not going to do the work for you. You can do it on your own. I'm not your servant or keeper. I'd like to think we'd managed to get to the ‘friends’ stage before this all happened. Now, do you want me to bathe you or do you want to do it on your own?"

    He took the sponge slowly.  “I’ll do it.  Will you wait…in the other room?”

    She looked around quickly, making sure there was nothing he could damage himself on.  “Okay.  But talk to me, all right?  I don’t care about what.  Just talk to me.”  She stood and walked out.  “So how is the food sitting?” she asked through the open door.

    “Fine, I guess.  Couldn’t really call it food.  Soup and jello.”  He paused a moment.  “It was blue jello.  Pretty good, too.”

    “Aurora scared it up.  They were serving pudding tonight, and Will wanted you to wait on more solid foods.”

    He was quiet for a minute.  “That was…nice, I guess.”

    “I suppose so.  You should probably tell her if you don’t enjoy her attentions, Jon.  It will only get worse if you don’t.”

    “I… I don’t know.  I don’t know what I feel anymore.  I don’t know if I feel anymore.”

    “Take your time.  Don’t rush into things.  If it happens, it happens, okay?”  She heard no response for several seconds.  “Okay, Jon?” she asked, louder.

    “Yeah,” he replied at last.  “Okay.”



    “9…  Come on, Lieutenant.  One more.”

    At Will’s encouragement, Jon pushed the 150-pound weight overhead one last time, drowning out the hum of the treadmill and the rhythmic pounding of Zan’s feet.  He’d grown used to those sounds again after four week, acclimated back to life at the station, almost comfortable again.  Almost safe.  He could walk away here, leave a room if he wanted, be by himself or not as he chose.  It was almost intoxicating.

    Will’s hands came into view, fingers guiding the bar back into its cradle overhead.   “Good lift, Jon.  A little stretching to cool down and we’ll be done.”

    “I’m still not lifting enough,” he complained, sitting up.

    “You’re lifting more than last week.  Push too fast and you’ll lose more ground than you gain.”

    Jon studied himself surreptitiously in the mirrored wall.  The muscle tone he’d lost over two months’ time was returning slowly.  Not as much as before.  Not yet.  But he no longer felt the need to hide protruding bones behind a sweatshirt, and after the first couple of days, no one had so much as glanced at the track-marks marring his arms.

    “Come and stretch,” Will continued.  “Your muscles are going to freeze up if you just keep sitting there.”

    He pushed up from the weight bench reluctantly and moved to sit on the mat, nearly tripping over Aurora in the process as she entered.

    She reached out reflexively to steady him.  “Careful,” she said.

    He stepped back and her hand slid down his arm then dropped to her side.  “Sorry,” he said.  Then, after a moment, “Thanks.”

    She smiled, and he wondered idly if her face ever started to hurt.  “No problem.”  She moved over to the weight bench he’d abandoned and spread her towel on the surface.  After a quick check of the bar, she settled herself on the padded surface.

    “Do you need that reset?” Will asked her.  “I left it at 150.”

    “That’s fine.  I’ll manage very well.”

    “You don’t have to lift more than 125, you know.  You want me to spot?”

    “I’ll be fine, Will.  It’s a little light, but I can do more reps that way.”  She centered herself under the bar and lifted it easily and started pressing slowly, muscles and joints moving like the well-oiled machine they were.

    Jon watched as he stretched, and began to get a sense of rhythm, Aurora’s arms moving in time to Zan’s steady pace on the treadmill, and he began to count silently with them, joining in the odd ballet of exercise.

    After a few minutes, the timer on Zan’s treadmill beeped, and she slowed to a walk.  Then she stopped, pulling off her head phones and heading for the showers.  Aurora finished her set and let the weight go gently into its cradle.

    “I didn’t know you were upping your limit,” Will said, helping her up.

    “I was starting to struggle at 125, and I didn’t want to risk it in the field.  I can do 170, but I need a spot for it.”

    “You want to try it now?”

    “Nah.  The lieutenant and I have a date with the ring.  Right, Jon?”

    He pushed up from the floor.  “Yeah.  I guess.  Are you going to wipe the floor with me again?”

    “If you don’t stop me.  Bad guys rarely seem to care that you executed a move correctly.  They only care if you can follow it up.”  She picked up her towel and wiped her face.  “Come over here where we have some room.”  She stepped away from the forest of equipment and tossed her towel against the wall and her damp t-shirt after it, revealing a tight-fitting tank top.  “Come on,” she urged.  “We haven’t got all day.”

    They worked through a standard set of drill first, Aurora dutifully letting herself be flipped, thrown and tangled up.  He released her after the last combination and she stood.  

    “I’m going to start resisting this time around, so be ready.”  This time, when he moved in, he was the one who wound up on the ground. But only after some struggle.  When he’d first started training again, it had taken her hardly any effort to throw him.

    “Good,” she said as he climbed back to his feet.  “Make me fight for it.  Make me move you.”

    They grappled some more, neither noticing when Will left.  In a complex series of moves, Aurora disrupted his stance and turned him, sending him sprawling back into a wall.  She covered him in a flash, pinning him back against the wall, keeping him from recovering any leverage.

    “Not so good there,” she said softly, her face inches from his.  “You let me get the upper hand.”

    The panicky fight-or-flight mode kicked in, and he struggled for leverage and managed to turn them to she was the one against the wall.  He panted, staring down at her, and that smile was back, wicked this time.

    “Now it looks like you’re the one in control,” she said softly.

    Control.  He’d been starved for it for two months.  Damn right he was in control.  He pinned her to the wall with his hands and leaned in, kissing her.  It was neither gentle, sweet nor romantic, but hard and frenzied, not that she seemed to mind.

    “What the Hell is going on here?”

    Jon broke away to see Zan standing a few feet away, towel in hand, hair still damp.  He stepped back, releasing Aurora.  “Nothing,” he replied.  “There is nothing going here.”  He looked back to Aurora.  “Good match,” he said, walking out the door before she could reply.

    Zan fixed her with a steely gaze.  “Well?”

    Aurora pushed away form the wall, gathering her shirt and towel.  “You heard the man.  There’s nothing going on.  Now.”  She tilted up and eyebrow and sauntered out.

    Zan lobbed her towel back toward the showers and followed hard on her heels.  “He kissed you,” she stated flatly.  “Why?”

    Aurora pushed the button for the lift.  “Maybe you should ask him.”

    Zan followed her into the car when the doors opened.

    “I’m asking you.  Jon’s not in the best shape right now, mentally or emotionally.  He doesn’t need you leading him on then dumping him later.”  The elevator rose smoothly under their feet and stopped at the next level.

    Aurora got off and Zan followed her.  “Do you want to explain to me how any of this is your business?” Aurora asked.

    “Emily and I worked too hard putting him back together for me to allow you to ruin it all.”

    Aurora stopped outside her door.  “You know, he’s not your private pet project.  You might try to remember that he is a person, and has the right to a modicum of privacy.  Now, unless you want to harangue me in the shower, you’ll have to excuse me.”  She entered her quarters and closed the door in Zan’s face.  The distinct sound of the privacy lockout was loud in the empty hall.

    “Damn.”



    Aurora looked over the papers the Commander had handed her.  “Are you certain about the source?” she asked.

    “In a round-about way.  Zan got it from someone she trusts, and I trust her assessment.”  He watch as she flipped through the papers.

    “If you trust her so much, why are you bothering to ask me?”

    “As long as you’re serving as first officer, we need to have a certain amount of agreement about what goes on here.  Don’t you agree?”

    “Of course, Daddy.  You could ask Jon, you know.  He’s on desk duty again.”

    “It’s too close to home for him,” the Commander said, leaning back in his chair.

    Aurora studied the papers more closely.  “These people are connected to the people who abducted him?”

    “We think so.”

    Aurora frowned.  “We can’t go ourselves.  It’s outside the Limit.  No SilverHawks allowed.”

    “We can send Zan.  She’s not on the payroll, not on the official lists.  If we had to disavow, we could.”

    “That’s a terrible way to operate,” Aurora protested.  “We can’t send her without back-up.”

    “Who, then?  And where?”

    She thought a moment.  “Emily, just this side of the Limit.  She can’t go all the way, but if they have trouble getting back across, she could be there waiting to lend a hand.”

    “Okay.  You tackle Steelheart and I’ll talk to Phantom.  Task Force is setting up tomorrow on Bedlama.  They need to plan to be gone a couple of days at least.”

    She stood up.  “Okay.  Permission to be excused?”

    “Go ahead.”  He waved her out the door, turning to stare out the window.


    Aurora smiled as she slipped out of the office.  With both Zan and Emily out of the way, she could work on getting Jon to herself without interruption.  She stopped by Krysten’s station on the way out of Command.

    “Hey, Krys.  How’s it going?”

    “Quiet, for the most part.  Some generic chatter out there, but nothing interesting.”

    “Great.  Can you get Emily on the horn and tell her to meet me in my office?  And the Commander needs to see Phantom.  And if you’re free after dinner, come by my quarters.  I’m going to tear apart my closet looking for the perfect outfit, and I need a second opinion.”

    “What are you dressing up for?” Krys asked, fingers flying across the boards.

    “Hoping to get Jon past a couple of really good kisses.  Between Zan and Em, they hardly leave him a free minute between Reveille and Lights Out.”

    Krys laughed.  “Good luck.  They’re a pair of mother hens with one chick between them.  I’ll see you after dinner for sure.  I have to see what you’re planning.”

    “Cool.  I’ll see you later.”  She gave Krys a wink as Phantom exited the elevator and walked past them, and left.



    Aurora chewed one last time on the inside of her lip, staring at the closed door.  ‘Lieutenant J. Quick.’  She read the stenciled name over and over.  It wasn’t too late.  She could still walk away and no one would know.  But she had waited 16 years for this moment.  If she lost her chance because she was a coward….  Well, that just didn’t bear thinking about.  With a deep breath and firm resolve, she reached out and knocked on the door.

    The door slid open, and Jon stood in front of her.  “Hey.  What are you doing here.”  It wasn’t uncivil, just surprised.

    She smiled, but tried to tone it down some.  He’d think she was a fool for sure if she kept grinning like an idiot.  “There’s some paperwork that’s backed up while you were on leave.  I thought you could go over it with me, show me what I’m missing?  I can get most of it, but there are some things I just don’t know what to do about.”

    He stepped back.  “Come on in.  We’ll take a look and see if we can’t get you straightened out.”

    She entered, a small smile playing about her lips.  Step 1, check.


    Jon watched as Aurora dropped the pile of folders on his table.  She contorted through a series of stretches as her spine and shoulders emitted a ghastly series of pops and snaps, her soft sweater pulled tight against her narrow waist and generous chest.

    “Can I offer you something to drink?” he asked.

    “Certainly,” she replied.  “I’d love a cup of tea.”

    “Any particular kind?” he asked, moving to the computer’s food station.

    She looked a little confused.  “Ahh..Well…”

    “You don’t really drink tea, do you?”

    She chuckled a little, a low musical sound.  “No.  Not really.  I mostly stick with coffee, but I’ve noticed that you go out of your way to avoid it, so….”

    “It’s okay.  It’s gotten…easier, lately.  It’s not so much of a trigger anymore.”  He brought her a cup brim-full of it, black as night, and she sipped appreciatively.

    “Mmmmm…. It’s wonderful.”

    “Glad you like it.”  He invited her to sit with a gesture as he did the same, sinking onto the sofa.  “So where were Emily and Zan today?  I didn’t see them at dinner, and Will looked like someone kicked his dog from one end of the street to the other.”

    She looked distinctly uncomfortable for several minutes.  “Okay, this is how it is,” she said at last.  “The Commander didn’t want to involve you, but I really think you should know.  There’s a multi-jurisdictional Task Force being assembled on Bedlama to go after the heroine dealers outside the Limit.  We finally have some good information there; enough to just maybe get the whole group, suppliers and dealers, in one huge sweep.  Zan can ride along since she’s not officially here, and Emily is going as back-up just this side of the Limit.  If we’re lucky, we may be able to trace the drugs from the dealers to whoever it was that held you captive.”

    Jon rolled the thought around in his head for a while.  To be sure they were gone, locked away; to be sure he was safe.  It’s felt awfully good, but very hard to arrange.  “It won’t be that easy,” he said finally.

    “I know.”  She leaned forward, resting a hand on his.  “Jon, I haven’t told anyone this; they’d think I was crazy.  When my father finally admitted you were missing, I twisted arms and called in favors to get out here.  I was so worried. It took a week to get it lined up and get out here, and I was snapping at everyone for days.  I just wanted so badly to find you, to know you were still alive.”

    He was confused, flooded by emotions he’d packed away from so long.  “Why?”

    She laughed again, and deep within him, something stirred.  “I bet you didn’t know I was considered the luckiest girl in my barracks.  Everyone wanted you as their Senior Cadet.  They kept pestering me to try and get you into bed.”

    He snorted “We’d both have gotten kicked out if they’d caught us on base together.”

    “And since you never left campus, yes.  Now, well, let’s just say no one else’s private life is interfered with.”  She slid out of her chair and onto his lap, knees straddling his legs.  “That first time I kissed you?  I’ve wanted to do that for years, and I’m not going to wait another 16 years to do it again.”  She leaned in close, fingernails scraping gently though his short hair, and kissed him.  She teased his lips open and slid her tongue in, tasting of the coffee and something more, something different, something that somewhere deep inside he wanted.  He tangled one hand in her hair and slid the other under the soft sweater up the smooth skin of her torso.  His hand brushed over the silky fabric of her bra and his thumb grazed the stiffening peak of her nipple.  She moaned into his mouth and leaned encouragingly into his touch.

    She released his mouth with real regret and rested her forehead against his.  “If you want me to go,” she started, panting slightly.

    It had been so much work for so long; working to beat the addiction, working to get his body back into shape, working to remember parts of himself and what he did.  But this…this was easy.  He slid his hand from her breast around and down, pulling her close against his rising need.  

    “Stay.”



    Aurora woke alone, the hiss of the shower giving a hint to Jon’s location.  She stretched luxuriously, enjoying the twinge of long-ignored muscled too recently overworked.  How long had it been, anyway?  Much too long, certainly.  In this case, 16-years too long.  She let her head roll to one side and frowned when she saw the time on the clock.  Damn.  No time to surprise Jon in the shower for another round.  She pushed she sheet back and stood, arching her back and wincing again as it crackled.  Then she set about collecting her clothes.

    The bra was a total loss, she decided when she found it.  Frustrated with the tiny front clasp, Jon had ripped it open and thrown it across the room.  She pulled her sweater over her head.  It had fared better, subjected only to spending the evening balled up in the corner of the sofa.

    She was stepping into her loafers when the bathroom door opened, and nearly walked into Jon in the doorway into the bedroom.

    “I thought maybe you left,” he said, tucking in the corner of the towel slung low around his hips.

    “I’m almost out of time, but I didn’t want to leave without saying good morning.”  She reached up to pull him down to kiss her, rising up on her toes to meet him halfway. “I gotta go,” she said at last.  “I’m going to have to rush or I’ll be late for staff.”

    “What about your paperwork?” he asked, gesturing to the pile they’d ignored the night before.  It was crowned now with her ruined lingerie, and he looked away.

    “You’ll be in your office later?” she asked, and he nodded.  “I’ll find you there.  Maybe we can waste more time ignoring it.”  The wicked smile was back.

    “Yeah.  We’ll see.  You’d better get going.  Don’t want to be late.”

    “See you later.”  She scooped up her files and was gone.

    Jon stared at the door for a long time after she’d left.  Physically, everything had been fine, hell, more than fine.  But emotionally, there was just nothing.  She’d handled him with the skill of a trained courtesan and he’d felt nothing more than the agonizing pleasure of release.  Still, if it was just about the sex, maybe things would work.


    Krysten cornered Aurora outside the conference room a few minutes before staff.  “Well?” she asked.

    MoonStriker stuck his head out the door.  “What are you girls gossiping about?”

    “Private stuff, private,” Krys said, dragging Aurora down to the women’s lav.  “So?”

    “Yacht in a typhoon,” Aurora said.

    “Oh my God!  You are so lucky!”

    “What about Jay?” Aurora asked.

    “I’m still thinking about it.  I’m not sure he’s the one yet, and I don’t want to jump into things if he’s not.”

    “I’ve been sure for 16 years.  It just took me forever to get a chance.  Don’t waste your chance,” Aurora advised.

    “16 years, huh?”

    “I fell in love the instant I saw him.  I just had to get his attention; mke him see past the uniform.”  She sighed happily.  “I’m going to track him down later.  Maybe we can christen his office.”

    Krys smacked her lightly on the arm.  “You are so bad.  Come on.  We’re gonna be late.”



    Jon looked up as his office door opened, admitting Aurora.  “You’re out early.”

    She came further into the room and the door closed behind her.  “It was very short, with Emily and Zan gone.  Will was distracted, too.  He said the raid had started.”

    “Any good news?”

    “Too soon to say, honestly.  Will said there was a lot of running and shouting.  Fairly typical for this kind of operation.”

    He noted the pile of folders she was carrying.  “So are you really having trouble with those or is it just an excuse?”

    “50-50.”  She stacked them on a corner of his desk and walked around the end of it, perching in front of him.  “Some of it just needs your signature, some of it I’m really stuck on.”  She kicked her shoes off and slid her feet into his lap.  “That’s not really why I’m here, though.’

    “Somehow, I didn’t think so.”  He slid his hands up her legs and under the skirt of her uniform, tracing the delicate edges of a lace garter belt, but nothing else.  Then he raised an eyebrow.  “You forget to finish getting dressed?”

    “t didn’t slip my mind.  It was a conscious act of will.”  She lifted her hips off the desk as his hands slid over her bare skin, lifting her skirt.

    “It may be a uniform violation, you know.”  He leaned in a nipped at the inside of one pale thigh.  “Should I be concerned that you may have violated the dress code?”

    She leaned back on her hands as his mouth inched higher.  “Mmmmm.  Maybe.  Are you going to punish me?”

    Ice water filled his veins and he froze.  “What?” he croaked.

    Aurora sat up.  “Jon?  Are you okay?”

    He fell back in the chair, willing the flashback to stop, to end, to just go away.  The beatings, the whippings, the rapes all came crashing back down.  “Go away,” he murmured.

    Aurora hopped off the desk and crouched next to the chair.  “Jon?”    

    “Go!” he shouted.  “You don’t want to see this.”

    She reached up to touch his face.  “Jon, I’m here.  Just talk to me.”

    He caught her by the wrist and squeezed, hard enough to hurt, and she gasped.  ”Get the fuck out of here before I kill you.”  His voice had fallen to a deadly whisper.

    Abruptly, he released her and off-balance, she fell to the floor.  Her courage broken, Aurora scrambled to her feet and fled.  The door had barely shut behind her when she heard something shatter against it.



    Aurora pounded on the closed door.  “Damn it, Jon, open this door!”  She stepped back and paced a little, waiting for the throbbing pain in her hand to fade. He’d avoided ever since he’d expelled her from the office.  She’d been patient for a while, but it had never been her strong suit, and she’d finally lost the battle and tracked him to his quarters.

    She kicked the door in aggravation.  “Don’t shut me out, damn it.  I’m not standing out here shouting for my health.”

    The door slid open and Jonathan stared out at her.  He looked, tired, haggard, like he’d gone ten rounds with some personal demon.  “This has nothing to do with you, Aurora.  Just leave me alone.”  He stepped out, heading for the elevator and she followed him.

    “For the love of God, Jon, I want to help.  Will you at least tell me what wrong?”

    “You really want to know?” he asked as the elevator doors opened.

    “Yes.”

    “Then get in here and I’ll tell you.”

    She complied, and the doors slid shut, closing them off from the world.


    When they opened again, one floor down, she was staring at him, mouth hanging open, fighting back the urge to vomit.  “Oh, Jon.”

    “Don’t pity me.  That’s the last damn thing I need.  Just leave me alone for a while.”

    He stormed out and she followed him.  “It’s not pity, Jon.  I want to help you get well.  I love you.”

    He stopped and turned to stare at her.  “You’re going to wish you hadn’t said that.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “This thing, whatever it is, isn’t about love.”

    “What are you taking about?”

    “You remember Charlotte the Harlot, right?  What happened between us had about as much to do with emotions as she did.”

    His words stung like a slap in the face.  “So I take it you don’t love me, then?”

    “I always said you were a smart myna bird.  Got it in one”

    She fought the urge to sniffle.  Damned if he would see her heart break, even if he was doing the breaking.  “What about-“

    ‘I said no.”  He turned and started to walk away.

    “Then what the hell was it may I ask?”  She tried to follow him, but Zan stepped out from around a corner.  She looked a bit battered and beaten around the edges, and there was hole in the left shoulder of her jacket, gleaming wetly in the harsh lights.

    "He was conditioned to respond that way. If you were a guy, he'd have done the same thing,"  she said softly.

    Aurora stopped and leaned against the wall. "I wasn't drooling at the bell like some screwed up Pavlovian dog." She stared at the floor a minute, feeling the familiar prick of tears at the corner of her eyes. "Shit,"  She turned and walked away.

    Phantom watched her walk away then glanced to where Jon vanished.  Then she sighed and shook her head. "Damn what a mess."  She started to follow Jon and walked straight into Will.  He reached out to steady her, and his hand came away from her jacket covered in blood.

    He started to peel it back from her shoulder.  “What have you done to yourself?” he asked, prodding at the wound.

    "Ow, do you have to poke?  That hurts," she protested.

    "Of course it would hurt, it's a knife wound."

    "it was fine up until I ran into you.  And I have to keep Jon from going off the deep end again."

    He noticed the trail of blood leading back down the hall.  "Jeez Louise, Zan. Get yourself to the Med bay. I'll chase down Jon and keep him from hurting himself.”

    She turned and walked away, muttering, "You'd think it was life threatening the way you act."

    “I heard that.”

    “You were supposed to.”  Nonetheless, she headed for the medical suite.


    Emily looked up when Zan came in muttering under her breath.  “I sent Will to look for you.  Did he find you?”

    “Yes,” she replied sharply.  Like to wring that scrawny bitch’s neck.

    Who now? Emily asked over the bond.  “Sorry,” she said aloud when Zan winced as her jacket was removed.

    Miss Cat-in-Heat Stargazer.  She apparently took the opportunity of our absence to chase down Jon and fuck him.  It set off a flashback or something.  I’m not sure.  It’s all muddled.

    Oh, damn.  Hang on a second.  Zan felt Emily leave off with her and had the sense that she was checking with Will.

    “Lie back now, Phantom,” the nurse said.  “We’re going to give you something for the pain and stitch you back up.”

    “Just some Novocain.  The rest isn’t so bad.”  The nurse nodded and rolled a tray over.  “Just relax for a few minutes.”

    Zan closed her eyes as the needle approached.  She felt the prick and burn, then the area seemed to disappear.  “Do you feel that?” the nurse asked.

    “Nope.  Not a thing.”

    “Good.  This won’t take long.”  She could hear the rush of water over the wound and feel the pressure of being prodded as they examined the stab, then the repetitive motions of the stitches being place.  When Emily’s mind reconnected with hers, she was distracted from even that slight annoyance.

    Will says it’s like the torments of the damned out there.  Jon’s spitting curses at everything real and imagined he can come up with and beating the living hell out of the heavy bag, but mentally he’s still in one piece.  Aurora’s wailing to everything under heaven and talking to someone, but he’s got no sense of who that might be.  Apparently she really cared for Jon, so she’s the one in about a million pieces.

    She has a funny way of showing it, Zan replied.  Damn stupid risk to take for a roll in the hay.

    Like you never had a crush on someone before?

    Images flashed in Zan’s mind.  Steve RunningHorse, Coyote, her beloved foster uncle.  She had followed him to the ends of the Earth, hoping for one moment of acknowledgement.  But he had gone on into death, and she had stayed behind to live.  Touché.  But she didn’t have to be in such a rush about it.

    Would you have waited?  You saw how he kissed her.  It would be an easy mistake to make, especially if you really wanted to.

    Zan didn’t reply.  “Are we done?” she asked the nurse.

    “You’re free to go,” she said, securing the last of the tape and handing Zan a clean shirt.  “You should go straight to bed, though.”

    “Later.  I have things to do.”

    “You’ve lost a considerable amount of blood, Zan.  A good night’s sleep is important.”

    “Later.”

    The nurse frowned.  “Half an hour.  Then I’m sending someone after you.”

    “Send Will,” Emily suggested.  “He’ll make sure she gets to bed.”

    I think the idea is for me to sleep.

    What they don’t know won’t hurt them.


    Zan stared at the door for a long moment, listening to the muffled voice on the other side.  She couldn’t make out any words, but the tone was definitely unhappy.  Finally, she lifted her hand and knocked.

    The door slid open and Aurora looked out at her.  Her eyes were red and swollen, and her whole being screamed ‘depressed.’

    “Hi,” she said without emotion.  “Hang on a second.”  She returned to the communications console.  “I have to go, Steven.  Thanks.”

    “Anytime, Beautiful.”  His flirtation failed to affect her, however.

    Hearing the name, the reason for Zan’s visit went straight out of her head.  “Steven?  As in General Steven Landon?  What were you telling him?”

    “What difference does it make?” Aurora asked.  "You hate my guts, Jon hates my guts. Hell, I hate my guts right now." She slumped onto the sofa. "You may as well hit me now. Drag this day all the way into hell. And it was such a good morning."

    "As much as I would Like to, it won't do any good." Zan leaned back against the wall by the door.
    "I am such a fucking idiot. I may as well have it tattooed on my forehead."

    "Sorry, don't do tattoos, and the last time I did I woke up with a hangover and Will yelling at me for dragging Em to the tattoo parlor."

    "I'm serious. 'Warning! Idiot. Do not approach.' To warn everyone."

    "Just ask Will to rig up a flashing neon sign. it's easier." Sighing, Zan pinched the bridge of her nose. "Damn forgot why I came here now."

    "Must not be important, then.”  Aurora reached out and drained the last of a glass of amber liquid.  “You know what sucks? I was so in love with him until 20 minutes ago. And now it's like this hole in me. This big missing piece."

    "Yeah," Zan snorted.  "I'll remember it at the most inopportune time too. Who, Jon?"

    "Yeah. He was my Senior Cadet at the Academy. Showed me around of Orientation Day.  We had Advisory once a week, I sat in all those Squad meeting with him. The other girls in my unit were so jealous.  God, why didn’t I ever say anything meaningful?"

    "Be thankful he's still alive."

    "I thought I was. And now there's just this big 'Why? What difference does it make?' My mother used to say I'd spin castles out of cobwebs. This is like the Taj Mahal or something."

    "‘Why oh why do we build castles in the sky?' At least you had the chance, even if it was bad timing," Zan pointed out.

    "Was there ever going to be good timing, do you think? I think this place would be hell on anything resembling a normal relationship."

    "Possibly... there could have been...you never know. And yeah, it would be. At lest half the place has the right idea though."

    "Well, if there's a right way to do something and a wrong way, I'll always pick the wrong way first. That's a constant, at least."

    "Learn from your mistakes,” Zan offered.  “But if you do repeat them, at least be creative.”

    "I figure one of these times, I'll pick the right thing first. I mean, it's simple statistics. I should at least get lucky once. I can't run around second guessing myself at every turn. I'd never get out of bed in the morning."

    "Live and learn. that's all one can do. To stop learning is to stagnate. and to stagnate is to die"

    "I'll take the last, with two olives."

    "Drinking won’t get you anywhere, other then staggering into a tattoo parlor."

    "Then I can get that idiot sign."

    Zan snorted. "At least pick something you like enough to live with for a long while. and avoid names if at all possible"

    "Right now, I'm not crazy about living with myself for a long while." Aurora started to tilt sideways and ended up lying on the sofa. "I am so damned stupid. Steven said everyone takes their turn doing something monumentally dumb, but I don't know."

    "You'd only be stupid if you didn't learn from it."

    "Yeah. And the lesson, kiddies, is that love is a cruel joke on the world."

    "Want to know the deepest darkest secret in the universe?"

    "I told you that already. I' m an idiot."

    "No.  The universe has a twisted sense of humor."

    "Fuck the universe. I want to get off."

    Zan bit her tongue to keep from pointing out the obvious in that statement.

    "I'll probably feel differently about it in the morning, but right now I'm hating just about everything," Aurora continued.

    "Yeah. You will most likely."

    There was a long moment of silence, then Aurora asked softly, "When does it stop, Zan?"

    "It doesn’t. you have to learn to live with it, no matter how bitter of a pill it was to swallow or how sweet the wine drunk. you have to take the good with the bad."

    "It sucks. Big time."
    "Ummm Hmmm..."

    "You remember what you want to ask me yet?"

    "No, I'll probably remember while with Will though. It's my luck.”

    "Well, if it's not life or death, then it will keep. I'm just going to lie here and think about life sucking for a while."

    "Ummmmmm Hmmmmmmmm." Zan nodded and turned to leave.

    "'Night."

    "Yeah. later."

    "If there is a later."

    "Oh, there will be."

    "I can dream, can't I?"

    "Everyone can dream. It’s just a matter of remembering that it's not reality."

    "Reality bites."

    "Sometimes."  There was a soft snore from the sofa, and Zan sighed, then crept to the sofa and pulled the afghan down from the back, draping it over Aurora’s still form.  Then she slipped out, turning off the lights as she went.


    Aurora woke sometime in the middle of the night, head pounding and her mouth tasting of old sweat socks.  She sat up with a groan, pushing off the afghan.  She stumbled into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later, breath minty-fresh and face rinsed.  But the ache in her heart was a bad as ever.  Then inspiration struck and she rooted through a drawer of mementos.  She snatched at something in the half-light form the bathroom and headed out the door with a purposeful stride.

    The simulated chapel was a far cry even from the small church she’d attended in Colstrip, but it was far better than nothing at all.  She slipped into a small booth and pressed the screen activator.  The virtual confessional had only recently been deemed acceptable by the Vatican, but it too was far better than nothing.  On the other end, the priest on duty activated his screen,  Anonymity was persevered, she he couldn’t see her face, nor she his, but just his silhouette was a comfort.

    “Yes, my child?”

    “Bless me Father, for I have sinned.  It has been…”  She stopped for a moment, trying to remember when she had last been so honest with herself.  “Much too long since my last confession….”

* THE END *

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