DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no money, just some fluffy fun.....
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SEQUEL: To Fred

Midnight
By ncruuk

 

"It's nearly midnight," explained Mac reluctantly, when she could finally think of no more questions to ask her blonde companion. It was amazing - she spent her days asking questions and now, having been told that the most spectacular science fiction was actually reality, she'd run out of questions after just a couple, her brain unable just yet to properly interrogate what it had just learnt.

"Only nearly?" teased Sam, already comfortable with the idea that Mac could keep perfect time. Compared with some of the things she'd come across other people being able to do, that was a perfectly reasonable and useful skill.

"23:47..no, 23:48," corrected Mac, relaxing back against Sam's body, burrowing her bare feet even deeper into the sand.

"What time does the Base lock up?" asked Sam, not remembering being told that information.

"Umm, 0200 I think, but I doubt the gate will keep two Colonels out," observed Mac practically, recalling the greeting they'd both had on arrival. It was a small, highly specialized Base with few visitors it seemed.

"True," mused Sam, suddenly noticing that at some point earlier in the evening she'd slipped her fingers underneath Mac's clothes, so that they were resting on bare, warm skin.

"What's going to happen tomorrow?" asked Mac, suddenly curious.

"You mean the investigation?" clarified Sam, not sure she wanted to risk talking about 'them' yet. This wasn't the normal sort of 'posting romance' - in those circumstances, you generally didn't bother with much conversation once mutual interest and need had been established.

"Yes...all I know is I've been assigned the task of defense counsel..."

"That's a relief," said Sam genuinely, wondering why she hadn't thought to ask earlier.

"It is?" asked Mac, curious as to why it mattered so much to the astrophysics expert - did it really matter which side she was on?

"If you were prosecuting I was going to really piss you off tomorrow," admitted Sam honestly, chewing thoughtfully on her lip as her mind raced ahead to tomorrow morning.

"Oh?" Mac was intrigued...what could an expert witness possibly do to piss off Prosecuting Counsel, unless...

"You're getting the case pulled?" Mac answered her own question.

"Sort of," agreed Sam, remembering the orders she'd been given by Jack 'Get that geek to this facility Carter' was a good summary.

"That would piss me off...if he wasn't my client," agreed Mac, beginning now to understand why the most senior Marine Attorney (as the Base C.O. had flatteringly described her) was defending an 18 year old Private.

"Good thing you're defending then," repeated Sam, tickling Mac's sides lightly, at least, that would be her excuse if the Marine Colonel objected to being 'stroked'.

"We should probably head back..." decided Mac reluctantly. Whilst it was increasingly sounding like her presence was to help Sam's cause and intimidate prosecution into dealing out, they probably couldn't sit on the beach all night...

"Yeah." Mac's reluctance was shared by Sam.

"Sam?" asked Mac quietly, finally unable to ignore the question that was consuming her thinking.

"Hmm?" Sam's response was muffled by the light kisses she was scattering across Mac's neck and collarbone.

"What happens tomorrow?"

"What do you want to happen?" asked Sam, getting nervous and so retreating to a more comfortable place, one governed by reason and logic, rather than emotion.

"To not have to salute and head back to D.C. without knowing what's happening here," admitted Mac honestly, wondering if Sam could no longer hear the waves crashing on the beach which, for Mac at least, were now being drowned out by the pounding of her heart.

"You have any leave due?" The question was asked quickly and entirely spontaneously as Sam suddenly remembered three things.

"I'm not in court until Wednesday...and tomorrow is Friday," observed Mac quietly, wondering what Sam was building up to.

"Think we could postpone the salute and flight for a couple of days?" asked Sam nervously, wanting to kiss Mac some more, but settling for nervously chewing on her lip instead.

"Spend the weekend together?" asked Mac, her heart continuing to pound, but now in a much better way.

"Yeah...but not on base."

"Where?"

"Umm, a beach house somewhere?" suggested Sam nervously, scrambling to her feet suddenly, causing Mac to fall backwards at the loss of her backrest, emitting a small shriek of surprise in the process.

"You alright?" asked Sam nervously, crouching down next to Mac's waist.

"Surprised...why'd you move?"

"Because I wanted to see your face," admitted Sam shyly, glad that it was dark so that her intense blushes couldn't be seen.

"You're blushing," guessed Mac, forgetting her shock as instead she reached out to cup Sam's face, causing Sam's blushing to deepen.

"Spend the weekend here? With me?" she asked, looking down at Mac, whose hair was spread out across the sand, catching in the moonlight.

"What would we do?" asked Mac, easing herself up into a sitting position, knowing that if she didn't, she was about thirty seconds away from pulling the Air Force Colonel down on top of her, which would not help their plans for trying to return to base before dawn.

"Walk...swim...fly..." As Sam began speculating, Mac's expression changed, altering how her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, causing Sam to quickly reevaluate her most recent suggestion, "...fly a kite...eat..." she continued, wondering if the Marine would call her on the original suggestion.

"Fly a kite?"

"Beaches are often the best places, and I saw some really good ones earlier." She was neither bluffing nor lying - she had seen some really good kites for sale at the shop by the where they'd caught the bus...and a long sandy beach on a gloriously sunny day was the best way to fly a kite.

"Ah...I thought you said fly," observed Mac, stroking her thumb across Sam's cheekbone, removing any criticism from the observation.

"I did...I mean...at least..." It probably wasn't a good idea to call a highly decorated Colonel 'cute', so Mac decided to stay silent and hope her smile wasn't too suspicious looking....

"Stop laughing at me," protested Sam, breaking herself out of her stumbling when she noticed the change in Mac's face, mainly by how the moonlight cast shadows across her face.

"You're sweet...you wanted to go flying?" asked Mac kindly, willing herself not to get either nervous or disappointed. This was not a mission with Harm...this was a beach in Hawaii, and perhaps her vacation...

"I've not flown a seaplane..." confessed Sam, remembering one of the posters she'd seen on the bus, advertising seaplane trips to out of the way beaches.

"Are you qualified to?" As much as she normally hated random trips on planes were she knew the pilot, this was feeling different, very different.

"I'm not sure."

"I've never been in a seaplane," explained Mac, smiling at the idea. Even if Sam couldn't pilot them, it would be a lovely way to see some of the beaches....

"Wanna try?" asked Sam, cocking what she belatedly realized was her 'flyboy' grin, something that wasn't lost on Mac.

"I once said I was immune to flyboy charm," admitted Mac, shuffling from a seated to kneeling position.

"Once?" asked Sam breathlessly, suddenly conscious that Mac's face was closer than it had been a second earlier.

"A long time ago."

"You've changed your mind?"

"Yes...Tomcats don't do it for me," explained Mac, naming the Navy Jet.

"What does?" asked Sam, catching herself seconds before she started trying to estimate how much closer Mac's face was than a second ago.

"Spaceships," decided Mac, before brushing the softest of kisses across Sam's lips and pulling back,

"Spaceships?" asked Sam, slightly dazed.

"And seaplanes," explained Mac, before leaning in and starting what both ladies would later recall as their first 'proper' kiss. What had previously been soft, light kisses tasting of lobster, steak and ice cream became something more intense, as passion fueled desire and hunger tasted of....

"Ugh," spluttered Mac, parting suddenly when she could cope no longer.

"Sea salt," agreed Sam, licking her lips with regret. They'd been on the beach for a few hours, facing into a pleasant onshore breeze which, they belatedly realized, had been blowing salt onto them, resulting in a kiss which had rapidly become too salty for either to tolerate, which was a shame, since kisses were meant to be enjoyed, not tolerated.

"Looks like we need that toothbrush," observed Mac dryly, inwardly slightly relieved that kiss had stopped - it had just been too good, felt too right: it was the sort of kiss that she dreamed of and had never really found, until perhaps now.

"That means base quarters," observed Sam practically, her breathing only now returning to normal.

"Yes..." As much as she knew it to be true, Mac didn't move.

"Sarah?" asked Sam suddenly, the name sounding strange to her as the breeze carried it to her companion.

"Yes?" So often the use of her first name felt cloying or smothering, with the user inferring an intimacy or level of acquaintance she wasn't prepared to share...but now it felt right, as comfortable as 'Mac' did.

"I'm going to take a step back...because tomorrow we have to salute and save the world..." admitted Sam bluntly, wondering how her comments would be interpreted.

"Once you've saved the world," speculated Mac wistfully, unable to resist the half smile of amusement as she considered how accurate and appropriate that phrase really was, "...can I kiss you again?"

"Only if I can kiss you back."

"Deal," agreed Mac, before, with the same reluctance as Sam, taking a small but significant step back.

"It's midnight," commented Mac as they took their first steps back along the beach, starting the walk back to the base.

"Cinderella must leave the Ball."

"But she found her Prince the next day," observed Mac, recalling the dreams of her childhood, when a Prince Charming would come and sweep her off her feet.

"And what about you Colonel?" asked Sam, hoping that her use of rank was understood - if she was to do her duty tomorrow, she needed to start finding her distance tonight.

"I'm not sure I want a Prince to find me tomorrow," came the quiet admission.

"Who do you want to be found by tomorrow?" Sam resorted once more to the safety of logic and reason in an attempt to keep her emotions somewhere vaguely compatible with 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'.

"A flyboy with lips that taste of mint chocolate and feet that have walked amongst the stars..." began Sarah wistfully, hoping Sam understood.

"I think that can be arranged," agreed Sam, having to fight the urge to sweep Sarah up into another embrace, only to lick her own lips and be reminded how thirsty the salt was making her feel.

"Thank you." As Mac nimbly scampered over the railings that divided the sidewalk from the beach, she added

"Oh, and Colonel?"

"Yes Colonel?" As she waited for the question, Sam made short work of the railings, her years of missions making a short fence an easy obstacle to vault.

"You still owe me a kiss...but I'll collect it later," teased Mac, falling into step with the tall blonde once more.

"When later?"

"When you've got our kite flying at the end of its string, on a beach, which can only be reached by seaplane."

"So we're booking leave?" asked Sam hopefully.

"We're booking leave," confirmed Mac, looking forward now, for the first time since she'd landed in Hawaii, to rushing through her case - she had a vacation to enjoy.

The End

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