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A New Assignment

By: sammi_jo



Chapter 1 

My name is Samantha Sloan but I am usually called Dr Sloan or just Sam. I was born to a middle class family living in Elmhurst, Illinois which is a suburb outside of Chicago. I worked my butt off to earn a medical degree from Harvard Medical School. After my residency requirements were complete, I spent the next few years traveling from city to city, state to state, working as an independent contractor in various hospitals or medical offices. 

Sometime along the way, I met Angie Hart. We found that we both worked unusual hours and shared a love of coffee. We became instant friends. Our regular meeting place was a small coffee shop on Charlotte Street located a couple of miles away from the hospital I was working at during my time in Kansas City, MO. We chatted about random things like movies or books or men. Both of us were usually exhausted and that led to some silly conversations which eventually become just laughter for no reason whatsoever. 

Even after having known her for a couple of years, she is still very mysterious to me. While we have talked for hours about many things, Angie has never been one to divulge many personal details. The best I can determine, she has something to do with the FBI and has contacts in many of the military branches. Her job requires her to move often, as does mine, and she is not allowed to talk about anything, else she says she'd have to kill. Did I mention that she has a freshing sense of humor?

Out of the blue in May, I got a call from Angie asking me if I would consider a more longer tour of duty as a civilian doctor working on a military base. I did not even have to think about it. I immediately told her that I was interested in going. As a child I always dreamed of having a job where I could help others. What better way to help than to serve the men and women who give up their lives protecting our country. I certainly was not that brave. This was my chance to do my part and help these noble people. I was excited. I had no idea when, where, how long I would be going or how much the position paid. I never asked what the qualifications were or any of the other standard questions one asks on a job interview before making a decision about a career change.

Angie said that she would have to make a few phone calls and get the ball rolling. This would be a unique opportunity for both me and the government. At thirty-three, my age makes me ineligible for many positions due to lacking the years of experience required. The government however can apparently do whatever they want and Angie had recommended me for a trial opportunity. The position would allow me to work in a hospital on a military base and attend to both military, civilian and government employees or family members living on the base. 

The hospital chosen was located on the Marine Corps base in Quantico, VA. After a very thorough background check and several level of interviews, the transfer was accepted and processed. I moved into a very small cape cod style home just outside the base. Since I wasn't military, housing was not provided from the government but Angie was able to make other arrangements and took care of all the details. 

As an independent contractor, I had usually lived wherever the hospital administration puts me until I am moved to another location. That had been the cycle for the last few years and I was comfortable with that. Moving so often meant living light. I owned no furniture of my own as all the housing had been furnished. There were usually a few boxes that I hauled in my Daisy Dukes style white CJ-7 Jeep (although I never referred to it as Dixie like it was called on the television show). I had clothes, kitchenware, linens, and a few reminders from home. I always kept a picture of my family on the nightstand by me bed. Well get to the details of my family later. This story is about something else.

Chapter 2

No one told me that my first day working at this particular hospital was going to change the rest of my life. It was an ordinary fall day in early October. I arrived at the hospital and found my way to the administration office. Once all the formalities and paperwork was completed, I headed to the trauma center. Introductions were made with the staff working. A doctor, Paul Morgan, offered to take me on a tour of the facility. He was very friendly and smiled more than anyone I have known. I never date co-workers and rarely do I pay any attention to how attractive they might be. On that first day, I did notice however, that Dr Morgan was exception good looking. He was at least six feet tall and slender. He looked like he was probably a runner. You know that long and lean body type. He had brown eyes and dish water blond hair. He was probably in his early forties and he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. I am not sure what prompted me to look at his wedding finger or even to scan his body the way I did. This is where the real story begins.

There weren't any patients in the waiting area. I decided to check on some of the admitted patients and see if I could offer aid. I have always had this special ability to calm and relax those around me providing comfort. It was a big part of what made me decide to become a doctor. 

My pager went off and the code told me that I was needed in the ER. An ambulance (or "Bus" as we call them), pulled up near the sliding doors and two men in camouflage (with a lot of blood on them) jumped out. They hoisted out the stretcher. On it was another man in camo and he was covered in blood mostly from his legs down. Sam had them head into the first open room. She pulled the curtain across for privacy. 

The two men explained that they were participating in a training session that was not using live ammo. Their colonel somehow stepped on a live land mine. I asked the men to wait outside as I needed to work fast to stop the bleeding and see what could be salvaged from his legs and feet. 

First glance told me it was bad. He had all his parts, but nothing was connected the way God made him. I ripped off the shreds of what was left of his pants and the towels that had been used to soak up the blood. Then I sent a nurse to get several bags of blood. He was going to need a lot. He was conscious and not screaming. He just watched silently as I worked obviously in shock. 

I introduced myself and asked him his name. He told me that he was Colonel Taylor Quinn, or Colonel for short. I calmly explained that he was hit by a land mine and that there was extensive damage. I was going to sedate him to help with the pain. He refused. We argued briefly but I honored his demands. 

I did however decide to offer him my own special form of comfort. Placing both hands near the largest cut on his upper thigh, I focused on his pain and sent my energy to him. Immediately his leg spasmed and her hands tingled causing me to remove my hands quickly. The Colonel had a startled look on his face and I was completely surprised by what happened. In all my years helping others, that feeling and response had never occurred. I felt that the Colonel was different but could not identify just what was different. 

The Colonel looked like he was trying to figure out what I was doing to him. I put my hands back on his leg and it had the same reaction. This time I did not remove my hands but instead closed my eyes and focused on his pain sending healing energy to him. The blood flow slowed and the skin started to reattach. The gash closed up so that it was not nearly as deep at is was when the Colonel arrived.

"What are you doing to me?" barked the Colonel.

"Colonel Quinn, as I explained before I am Dr Sloan and I am here to treat the wounds you received when you stepped on a land mine. Do you remember what happened?" I spoke in a very soothing voice.

"I damn well remember what happened AND I remember who you said you were! What I don't remember is when you explained how you are able to repair my injuries with just the touch of your hands."

I wasn't about to discuss my abilities with this hostile patient whom I didn't even know. I barely told my family about what I could do. The standard reply was always "I am a doctor and have special training so that you get the best medical care."

"I'm not buying it Missy. I felt something when you touched me and I can clearly see that my thigh has healed much faster than is possible."

Ignoring him, I continued placing my hands on the other cuts one at a time. I made sure not to completely heal any of them, but instead only heal them to where there was no longer a risk of having to amputate. The Colonel will be able to keep his legs and feet. 

The nurse finally returned with the bags of blood as ordered. She gasped when she looked at the patient. I thought that I might have gone overboard and did too much healing this time. It was always a struggle with where I needed to stop to let the patient heal on their own. I hated seeing injuries that I knew I could fix. I wasn't God so I had to keep reminding myself that there was a fine line between helping and interfering.

"Once I got the blood cleaned up, he wasn't nearly as bad as everyone thought." I said quickly trying to create a solid explanation for the patient's current status. "He is going to need some blood, but he should be fine." 

I asked the nurse to take care of the transfusion and she started cleaning up the bloody materials that covered the floor. Leaving the room, I turned to close the curtain behind me. I took a glance back at my patient. He was staring right at me and he looked angry. His face was tense. There was a slight wrinkle in his nose and his teeth were gritted together so hard I could see the contraction of his jaw muscles.

A few hours later, I went back to check on the patient. The nurses had been in and out every half hour and he had a call button if he needed anything. The Colonel was sitting up in his bed wide awake. I asked him if I could look at his legs. He nodded. I pulled back the sheet and carefully unwrapped one of the bandages that had been placed around his thigh. He was healing extremely well. In fact, it looked as if he was almost completely healed. I knew that I stopped early enough and didn't cross that invisible line. I looked at the Colonel in surprise and he stared back at me. 

"Colonel Quinn, you are almost 100% healed. How do you explain that?" I asked.

"I'll explain when you explain." He replied rudely. 

I wasn't about to explain so decided to pretend that everything was normal.

"Well, you must have a very healthy immune system. You should be thankful." I said and smiled to make it seem sincere. He just grunted.

I checked the rest of the bandages because I needed more time. I was able to probe into people's thoughts and I desperately wanted to know what he did to heal himself. I hardly ever delved into people's thoughts since it felt intrusive, but this case was an exception. 

I probed his mind and found it very difficult to get through. It had never been a problem before. I was able to squeeze through but instead of a smooth train of thought I only got random pictures of things. There were no words. It was as if someone were flipping through a photo album very quickly. Nothing made any sense. I couldn't get a single thought just these fast images. I figured I wasn't going to get anything this time, so I finished the inspection and pulled the sheet back up to cover the Colonel. 

"Did you enjoy what you saw Dr Sloan?" the Colonel asked in a passive aggressive manner.

I thought he was referring to seeing his naked legs and under garments but then considered that he might be referring to my probe. There was no way he could know what I did. No one has ever been able to tell.

"No Colonel Quinn. I see body parts all day long. I don't find legs any more enjoyable than other body parts." I replied.

"Well then maybe you haven't had experience with the right body parts." the Colonel said seriously making me blush at his comment. I hadn't even thought about how my statement could have had multiple connotations. Where was his mind? Was he flirting with me or being rude? 

I decide this last comment deserves no reply. Instead I said "I'll have the nurses continue to check in on you and we might be able to discharge you within a few more hours."

"Actually, I will be leaving now." the Colonel says as the sheet flies off and his legs fling off the bed. 

He stood up and noticed that he has no pants. I chuckle to myself internally. I can tell he does not like having to depend on me for anything. I am not sure if it is me personally or all women. His face changes and I can see that he has remembered how his pants shredded during the explosion. 

"Colonel Quinn, if you insist on leaving, I will get you some scrubs to wear home. I'll be right back with them and your discharge papers." 

I take my time but eventually return with a pair of scrub bottoms that are the right size. He scribbles off his signature on the document that says the patient choice to leave against doctor's orders. He whips on the pants and walks out.

A New Assignment Pt. 02



***Thank you for your comments. I tried to work on the grammar and tense as well as make the chapter longer.

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Chapter 3

October and November fly by as I quickly integrated myself. I am one of the youngest doctors on staff but one of the best. Senior doctors asked for me to scrub in on some of the more serious surgeries. I had even been called in to consult on a few psychiatric evaluations and found that I am fairly accurate with predicting which soldiers are going to break mentally and which are strong enough to conquer any mental stresses. 

I was eating lunch in the staff lounge during one of my shifts. Dr Morgan walked in and sat down at the table across from me. He asked if I wanted to go with him to the holiday ball that was to be held in two weeks. He explained that only military people are invited along with a guest of their choosing. He was not only a doctor but an army veteran. I considered the invite and then accepted, making it clear that we will go 'as friends' because of my no dating colleagues rule. He agrees. 

After asking around, I learn that the best place to try and find a dress for the ball was some fifty miles away. This does not make me happy. I don't mind dressing up for an evening out, but get annoyed by the shear pain of finding an appropriate outfit that looks good and feels good. Then there is always the challenge of finding the perfect shoes and purse and jacket depending on the time of year. I wasn't even sure if this was a formal event or a semi-formal event. Would a floor length dress be appropriate or something shorter? How far was I going to have to walk? That would help me decide between high heels that always made me looked slimmer, or lower heels that were much more comfortable. Ugh. Sometimes being a woman sucked. Men decide between a suit or a tux, and in tonight's case some will be wearing their dress uniforms. Woo, big decision there. They have it so easy.

Dr Morgan picks me up at my place wearing a classic black tux and driving his Beamer. He compliments my attire with a big smile and insists that outside of work I call him Paul. I decide instantly that there are not going to be any more events with "Paul" after tonight. We ride in silence to the hotel that is hosting the annual event. Paul opts for valet parking. He hands his keys to the young man waiting and rushes around to open my door and help me out. I note to myself that he is extremely well mannered, which is a very nice quality. 

Entering the ballroom, I immediately feel self conscious of my attire. Then I look around and relax, realizing I chose wisely. I am dressed in a very expensive elegant floor length cranberry dress that fits the curves of my body appropriately. The bodice is more fitted with the rest of the material flowing down. My hair and nails have been professionally done. My makeup is flawless. 

I think about how tonight's look is quite a different from my usual hospital scrubs and messy ponytail. I notice awkwardly that there are quite a few men glancing in my direction. I think I even caught a glance from the Colonel who is across the room standing off in a corner. 

Paul escorts me over and introduces General Miller. I am shocked to hear that he has heard about me. He says that my reputation precedes me. I have only been on base for three months but have already become know as a miracle doctor and decent clinical profiler. 

After pleasantries have been exchanged, General Miller announces that he wants to introduce me to one of his best men. It turns out to be the Colonel. The General makes a gesture which seems to call the Colonel over to our area. The Colonel walks confidently across the room and salutes the General. 

I gaze at him standing there in his fitted evening dress uniform. The officers' attire consists of a blue evening coat with awarded metals, a white shirt and blue pants with a red and gold stripe down the outside of the legs. My first thought is that he is beautiful. He is tall and solid but not stocky. His green eyes shine like emeralds. His medium brown colored hair is trimmed short and is barely visible under his white barracks cover (which is just a fancy term for their peaked hats). He is sexy. As soon as I think of that, I immediately berate myself for the stray thoughts and try to focus on what the General is saying.

As the introductions are made, the Colonel acts as if we have never met. I am confused as to why he would not mention that he was my patient, but I go along with the charade. The General gushes about how many commendable actions the Colonel has demonstrated and how he is a value to his country. Paul looks bored and when he finds a break in the conversation, he politely excuses us. I was actually grateful for the escape.

Paul walks us toward the dance floor and as we walk, he invites me to dance. I have no interest in dancing with him since it may lead him on, but I agree knowing that my intentions have already been made clear. We share several dances one right after another. It's as if Paul finally got me to dance and doesn't want to stop for fear that I might not return. I finally need a break and tell Paul that I am going to get some punch. Paul offers to get the punch if I will find a table where we can rest. When I reach an available table, I fall into the chair and secretly kick off my shoes as my feet are conveniently hidden by the tablecloth. Paul quickly returns with two glasses of punch in hand. He sits and begins to ask personal questions about my life. I appreciate his interest and try to respond politely without giving too many details. I casually steer the conversation toward a different direction as we begin to discuss medical procedures and recent articles published in the Journal of American Medicine.

The Colonel keeps to himself, occasionally talking with other attendees, but is clearly not happy to be attending the ball or dressing up. When he thinks he has made enough of an appearance, he heads home, glad to be able to get out of his penguin suit.  

Paul takes me home after a couple of hours. As I am getting out of the fancy dress, I experience a feeling that the Colonel is in trouble. I am not sure why or how, but I immediately jump in the car (still in my dress and heels) and head back to the base in search of his house. My mind feels around until I can sense his home. I bang urgently on the front door, but there is no answer. I try the door knob and it is unlocked, so I rush inside. I follow my senses until I find him in the bathroom. He was taking a shower and had just stepped out when I barge in the bathroom. We look at each other in shock. I am shocked that the Colonel is butt naked. The Colonel is probably shocked that I am standing there having entered his home. I apologize immediately and back out of the room closing the door as I go. The Colonel is yelling something about having manners and not entering someone's home uninvited. He comes out wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair and muscular chest are still dripping water and he is obviously not happy about my presence. 

"What the hell are you doing?" he shouts. 

"I had a feeling that something bad was going to happen to you, so I came over here to warn you." I reply out of breath. 

My eyes are trying not to look at him but the curves of his six pack abs and well tanned body are hard to avoid. His body is hot and I lick my lips while trying not to visualize him ripping off my dress and taking me.

He catches my glance at his abs and says "Enjoying the show?" I let out a huff, but don't reply. 

He continues, "Are you here to warn me that a psycho is going to break in my house as I shower, because I figured that one out all on my own. Thank you very much." 

"Fine! I'll leave. Forgive me for trying to save you from harm." the words spit from my mouth as I turn to leave. 

"I don't need you to save me from anything, except maybe from you!" I hear as I slam the front door. How dare he be so rude?! 

Now that I am standing outside his house, I reach out again with mind and feel that any danger that was once here has passed. My presence must have changed things. That sometimes happens.

Finally getting back home, I rip off the dress and furiously rub off the makeup. I throw on a long t-shirt and jump into bed. I am so frustrated that I can't calm my breathing. My body finally gets to sleep hours later.

Driving to work the next day, I am already dreading the double-shift that I have been scheduled. The ER has been really busy what with extreme training exercises and men being flown in from overseas with bad injuries. I heal or comfort as many patients as possible without drawing attention to my special abilities. Each time I heal, I lose a lot of energy. I barely make it through a normal shift, let alone a double shift. I try to find time throughout the day to take power naps in hopes of restoring energy allowing me to help more soldiers. 

My day gets worse as I see the Colonel arrive with another injured marine. He completely ignores me again and works with another doctor. I have decided that I too will ignore him. He started these childish games, but I can play along just as well.

Many hours into the shift, I finally get a break and go to the hospital cafeteria not remembering what meal I ate last. It is about 1 AM, so I opt for a soda with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the vending machine. As I am leaving I hear someone yell "Why are you still here?" I had not noticed anyone else in the cafeteria, so the voice was startling. I turn looking around and see the Colonel sitting alone in the empty cafeteria with his feet propped up on another chair, starring at me. My first thought was to keep walking, but I am too tired to play tit-for-tat. 

"I'm working!" I snapped. "Something you never seem to do." 

He smirked. "I was just wondering if you ever leave this place. You might want to, oh I don't know, get a life?" 

I'm tired, hungry and in desperate need of a shower along with a change of clothes. The only response that came to mind as I turned and walked away was "Maybe you're right." 

Heading back to the trauma center, my pager goes off. I grab it up quickly to see where I am needed. There is a message that says "R U OFF 2MROW?" What does that mean? And who would send that message? I'm dealing with life and death matters here and someone thinks it's funny to waste my time. As all these thoughts run through my head, another page comes through. This one says "PIK U UP @1900...B RDY...N TRY 2 DRES UP 4 A CHG". This had to be another dose of cryptic witticism from the Colonel, but how did he get my pager number. I delete the messages and continue back to work eating my sandwich as I walk.

My last shift finally ends around 5AM and I drag my sore, tired body back home. I want nothing more than to fall in bed and sleep, but after looking down at the blood and urine stained scrubs draping my body, I head off to shower. The hot water feels good as it soothes the stress from the last twenty-four hours of work. I am looking forward to having the next forty-eight hours free to do as I please. I turn off the water, quickly run a towel across my body, and then slip into a pair of men's flannel boxers and a raggety t-shirt from my college days. Sleep awaits.



A New Assignment Pt. 03



**Thanks for reading. This is my first story so I really appreciate all the feedback and comments.

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Chapter 4

Dreams can be so enjoyable. Walking along the beach listening to the sounds of the waves slapping back and forth, my body is soaking up the sun. A gentle breeze and reggae music playing in the background. Ah, this is the life. Then reality interrupts. 

I jump out of bed from the banging on my front door. I rush downstairs and open the door. The Colonel is standing there with his head tilted giving me a strange look. Damn! It can't be 7PM. He was serious?! 

"This is an interesting look. Your idea of dressing up needs some work." 

"I never agreed to those anonymous pages. And my look is called 'Just jumped out of bed due to some a-hole pounding on my door'." I hiss as the Colonel just shakes his head. 

"I figured you needed my help to get ready. Good thing I wasn't really planning on leaving until twenty hundred. That gives me an hour to try and clean you up." 

I try to slam the door in his face, but he is too fast and sticks his shoe in to block my efforts. I resort to playing dirty and try to use my powers of persuasion to get him to turn around and leave, but he seems prepared for that too. There is no effect. We stare each other down, neither wanting to be the first to look away. It's a game of dominance and one that I have never been good at playing. Actually I hate games, all games. 

Finally the cold from outside overwhelms me since I'm barely covered with clothing. Sighing, I back up expressing a silent defeat which he takes as an invitation inside. The Colonel strolls in like he owns the place and it only infuriates me further. He plops down on the couch and puts his feet on the coffee table. 

"Tick tock Dr Sloan. Hurry along and pretty yourself up." That hits my last nerve. 

"What is your problem Colonel Taylor Quinn? You are bleeding to death and I help you. You are rude and I help you. You ignore me and then always show up around me. You send me silly messages like a kid in school. You show up at my home and force yourself in only to insult me and then expect me to happily comply like you are some king that I need to serve. I don't think so. Go to hell! You wanted in. You're in. But don't expect me to be going anywhere with you anytime soon, you sonofabitch." 

He laughs. I almost choke in shock at seeing that he actually has a smile and cute belly laugh. There was even a small dimple on his right cheek. No, his laugh is not cute. Nothing about him is cute. Well, his tight jeans are pretty damn sexy. No! He is not sexy. He is not cute. La la la la la. He seems to sense my internal struggle and chuckles again. 

"Are you finished?" He asks calmly. 

"No! I am not finished. I could call the MP's and get you in a lot of trouble. What do you think about that?" I say walking toward the phone. 

He watches but says nothing. I pick up the receiver and start pressing numbers. 

"I know you aren't calling the MP's because your residence is not on base. They have no jurisdiction." Damn him! 

"Fine! I'll call the police. They DO have jurisdiction." 

"Good, I look forward to seeing my buddies. They are all ex-military men, you know. We will have a great time partying here. What kind of beer do you have?" 

"WHAT DO YOU WANT COLONEL QUINN? WHY DO YOU KEEP BOTHERING ME? I am just trying to take care of injured soldiers and do my part for America. I work hard. I don't stick my nose in anyone's business. I haven't said a word to anyone about your visit to the ER."

"I told you this morning. You need to get a life doctor. So I am taking time out of my busy world to treat you to a night out on the town. It is my gift to you."

Wonderful. Now he is actually admitting he thinks he is God's gift to the world. He is not going to guilt me by turning it around trying to make it sound like I am the one that is being ridiculous and over-reacting.

"I never asked for your help or your gifts. I have a life. I like my life. I don't like you in my life."

The Colonel glances at his watch "Now you have forty-five minutes to get ready Doc."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I yell.

"Well if you really want to go wearing that and your bed-head, then be my guest." The Colonel says and he rises to his feet and walks toward me. "Let's go then." 

He puts his hand on my shoulder and starts to push me toward the front door. I resist and turn back. Now our faces are inches apart. I can smell his enticing cologne and feel his warm breathe so close. I try to take a step back, but his hand is firm on my shoulder and I can't budge. We look into each other's eyes. It feels like minutes have past, but it had to be only a few seconds. The Colonel then steps aside, still holding my shoulder and leads me toward the stairs. I am not sure why I am letting him move me about like cattle. I am NOT going to be sleeping with him. I am not going to let any other part of his body touch me, I don't care how sensuous his lips look or how much I want to run my fingers through his short spiky chocolate hair.

At last I have the strength to speak again without sounding shaky, "Fine! You win. I'll go wherever you want to drag me since you are obviously not going to leave. But this is it. You will not do anything like this again to me. Ever! Do you understand?"

"Yeah yeah yeah" he mutters "Just go shower. When you're done hopefully I will have found something in your closet that I am willing to be seen with you wearing." 

I turn to growl an angry retort, but am already in the bathroom. He closes the door to shut me up.

Exactly forty-five minutes later, the front door closes and we leave my house. Against my better judgment, I wore what I was told. Why do I feel like I am ten again and my mother is making me wear some awful outfit that she has chosen to torture me with? 

I glance down again to make sure that all the important parts are covered. I am showing a lot of skin, probably even more than what I was wearing when the Colonel showed up. The thigh high 3-inch heel leather boats had been a spur of the moment purchase some years ago that I never intended to wear in public. The black leather mini skirt was a forgotten memory that should have been burned or at least hidden in the dark recesses of the closet. How did he ever find this? 

I fidget and adjust the strips of material crossing my abdomen and exposing most of my stomach, shoulders, back, arms, well just about everything was exposed. I wasn't even sure that this was something I owned. It definitely was not recognizable. The Colonel was kind enough to let me wear a thin black leather jacket out into the cold. 

Great, I am going to be known as the nipple girl tonight. I am freezing and everyone will be able to see. Can this night get any worse? I hope we are going somewhere obscure so I never have to go there again. Hopefully I won't see anyone I know.

As we walk the length of her driveway, I look around for his car. Then I notice the big black and chrome motorcycle parked on the front lawn of all places. 

"Oh no! I am not wearing this and riding on that." I stutter.

"Yes you are. Now get on and let's roll."

"I can't even straddle this thing without exposing myself."

"Well then I hope you are wearing panties otherwise you might have to straddle something else hard that will give you the ride of your life."

"Ew!" I shout not appreciating his vulgarity.

The Colonel is not even listening. He gets on the bike and adjusts himself. He turns and hands me a helmet. 

"I just spent time fixing my hair and now you want me to cover it with this?"

"Just trying to keep you safe. Suit yourself. You have to wear eye protection. It's the law."

I tug on the helmet like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Then I carefully move my leg over the lowest part of the motorcycle and wiggle back trying to avoid any further embarrassment in order to sit on the bike. The seat is small and angled. I keep sliding toward the Colonel. My legs are practically wrapped around him. His tight butt is close enough to feel warmth radiating from him and I start to get aroused. Cabbage. Dead grass. Worms. Think about anything else. The Colonel reaches back, taking my hand and pulls it around his waist. 

"You might want to hang on, tight." The bike roars to life and darts off like a bat out hell.

We finally arrive at a placed called The Shire. It is dark and hard to see much detail about the structure but it appears to be a bar or a dance club of some sort. The parking lot is full and people are oozing out of everywhere. It looks like there may be an outside terrace in back and some tables along the side. The front entrance is so crowded the inside doors are not visible. 

The Colonel takes my hand and quickly leads us through the crowd. It was like the parting of the red sea. People seemed to just move out of his way and then fill back in as soon as we pass. I was preparing to complain about holding his hand, but realized that it was the only way for both of us to get to wherever it was he was going. His hand was soft and warm after all, so it wasn't unbearable. The Colonel stopped so abruptly that I slammed right into his back. He looks back at me with a slight smile, like he meant for that to happen, so I flash him my angriest look. Then we continued plowing through the patrons. 

The place seemed to stretch on forever. I could finally see the back wall with a small booth in the corner. It was surprisingly empty. We walk up to it, and the Colonel reaches for my jacket. After he took the jacket, he guides me into the booth. There was a tiny hook next to the table. The Colonel hangs up the coat and then slides around the other side. No sooner had his butt hit the seat, did a waitress show up with a pad ready to take our order. I look around for a menu, but the Colonel was already ordering.

"We'll have two glasses of water. I'll have a MGD and she'll have a ..." he looked at me and paused. So he was going to let me speak? 

"I'll have a MGD as well. Thank you." 

The waitress winked at the Colonel but barely even acknowledged that I was sitting there.

"Friend of yours?" I ask.

"Oh, I am a regular here. I tip well."

"So is this your table?" I ask jokingly. 

"Yes." He says rather seriously.

The waitress came back with the water and beers. She appeared to be waiting for further direction from the big tipper. There has to be more to this story. She is probably one of his flings and is waiting to hook up with him later tonight. Lovely. She probably thinks I am his current play toy. I am certainly dressed for the part. Damn him again!

"That will be all for now Tiffany." 

I look for a name tag but there wasn't one on the skimpy outfit Tiffany wore as a uniform. The plot thickens. At least there will be some sort of entertainment tonight.

We just sit in silence. I look around watching the people. They were of all ages. Some were shooting pool. Some were on the dance-floor located off to the right. Most were just in small groups conversing and laughing. It was a somewhat relaxing environment if it weren't for the loud music and gobs of people.

The Colonel clears his throat rather loudly and I sharply turned back toward him.

"So you're going to pout now?" he asks.

"Huh?"

"I was talking to you and since you weren't responding, the reasonable assumption would be that you are pouting."

"I'm not pouting. I was people-watching. Sociological dynamics are fascinating. I apologize." I reply sarcastically. "Please do go on."

"Thought you might like to look at the menu so we could place our order. I'm starving here since you were an hour late getting ready."

"I thought you were prepared for me to be an hour late?"

"Oh I was, but that doesn't make me less hungry." 

For a second, his eyes sparkle and it makes me think that his words might be referring to being hungry for something other than food. I quickly grab the menu he is offering and begin scanning through the selections.

I mentally make a choice and close the menu. The Colonel looks at me as if to ask if I am ready but he does not actually ask the question. He nods his head once and the waitress shows up out of nowhere. He was looking right at me when he nodded. How could Tiffany possible know his nod was to summon her over? 

Again, Tiffany looks right at the Colonel completely ignoring everything else. He again nods while looking straight into my eyes.

Tiffany shifts her hips as if she was bored and waited. 

"I'll have the cheddar burger well done. And can I get another beer please and a shot of Goldschlager? Thank you."

The Colonel raises his eyebrows but says nothing about the order. 

"I'll have the t-bone steak, raw and another beer as well." 

Then he turns and says to me "Partying alone tonight or do you want some company?" Before I can reply, the Colonel continues talking and expands his order. "And I'll have a shot of Jack as well. That's all."

Tiffany returns with the drinks and slams them all rather hard on the table in front of the Colonel. Saying nothing, the Colonel takes a beer and a shot and hands them to me. Then he picks up his shot and says "Cheers!" We clink glasses and shoot them down.

"Who knew you might be fun to party with?" he sneers.

"Oh, I can party. You know nothing about me." I retort.

"Then tell me something about yourself. Where were you born?" he asks. I think he's kidding but his intense eyes prove that he is really asking.

"I was born in a suburb outside of Chicago and lived there until I left for medical school. I spent the next six years on the East coast. After that I went from hospital to hospital going wherever I was needed. Then I got the offer to join the team here on base and thought I could really help out. It is important to me to be able to help our soldiers since they give up so much for people they will never even meet. What about you, where were you born?"

"Here."

"Oh, here as in near the base?"

"No. Do you have any family?"

"No. My parents and brother passed away in a car accident about five years ago. No other extended family. It's just me. Do you have family?"

"Yes." 

"Chatty, ain't ya?"

"No."

"Where is your family?"

"Around."

"So this conversation stuff is supposed to go back and forth. One word replies are not giving me anything to work with."

The Colonel slides out of the booth, takes my hand and gives me a gentle pull. 

"Then let's dance."

A slow song just started. Dancing was the last thing I thought he would do. I can't seem to figure him out. He places his left hand around my waist and pulls me in close. Then he takes my hand in his right. We are hip to hip with no space in between. I have little option but to put my head on his shoulder. 

It feels like every eye in the area is on us. There are others on the dance floor, so I have to be imaging it but as I glance around I am making eye contact with a lot of people. 

"I think we are being watched." I whisper.

"Probably." Well that was helpful.

"Why is everyone staring at us?"

"Who cares?" he says nonchalantly.

"You can't answer a question with a question."

He chuckles "I didn't know there were rules to being interrogated on the dance floor. I am sure they are just staring at the beautiful woman in my arms."

I immediately feel my cheeks turn beet red as I blush. 

"Are you giving me a compliment Colonel Quinn?"

"No. I am complimenting my taste. I told you I could get you cleaned up. It's just like finding a diamond in the rough."

"Whatever." 

This is the longest slow song in history. When will it end? I try to loosen the grip between us, but end up being denied. I can hear his heart beat near my head. It is slow and steady. Mine is pounding away. His cologne is almost intoxicating. My knees are getting weak. Heat is pouring through his crisp white shirt yet he is not sweating in the slightest. I am hoping that I am not perspiring or leaving makeup stains on him, but with the way the night is going, that is probably exactly what is happening.

The song ends, we head back to the table and are seated so quickly that my head is spinning. We went from being pressed up close together to being across the room separated by a table in the wink of an eye. Thankfully the white shirt sitting across the table is still just as crisp and white as it was before. 

The food arrives and the Colonel orders another round of shots. I am hoping I don't get sick since it has been a while since I got smashed. I rarely drink and only ordered the shot to calm my nerves and to kill the taste of beer, which I really dislike.

Six more shots later, I am laughing and tossing my head back. The Colonel even seems to be loosening up. Is he actually flirting with me or is that just the alcohol taking effect? I try to sneak a peek at the clock.

"It's only eleven, doll. You have at least an hour before turning into a pumpkin."

"What about my job? I can't go to work hung over." I say quizzically.

"You aren't due back at the hospital for another thirty hours." I want to ask him how he knows that, but know he won't answer so I save my breath. 

Tiffany returns with another round of shots. The Colonel again passes one in my direction. 

"This is my last shot. Anymore and I won't be able to walk out of here in these boots of mine. You'd have to carry me." I tease. "And I wouldn't want you to try and take advantage of me although it wouldn't surprise me."

We both shoot back our drinks and without another word another round of shots arrive. This time, it is not Tiffany who is delivering them, but a very tall wide dark complected man who looks like a patron rather than a employee. He says nothing as he places a shot in front of each of us and then walks away.

"Well that was weird. How did you manage to order another round? You didn't even nod this time. Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Taylor?"

"Mr. Taylor huh? No, I would definitely not be trying to get you drunk. You seem to be doing that perfectly well on your own."

I am feeling the effects of the alcohol, so I drink a full glass of water to try and sober up. The Colonel finishes off his shot and then leans across and takes mine as well. 

"Can you handle another dance Ms. Sloan, or will I end up wearing the drinks you have consumed?"

"Oh I can dance your shoes off. Let's go." 

I try to rise without having the room spin and my stomach should be okay as long as it's a slow song. My luck seems to be turning as a slow song starts just as we reach the dance floor. As before, the Colonel takes the lead and pulls me in tight against his body. I reach for his arm to stabilize myself and notice his sculpted arms and broad shoulders. He relaxes his grip just enough for me to casually move a hand across his chest. I am enjoying the feeling of his firm pectoral muscles. My drunken arms and hands seem to have a mind of their own. I reach up and touch the ends of his hair. He is looking down at me but says nothing. I have to close my eyes to help keep from getting sick. 

As I slowly drawl my nails back down his neck, I can feel him tense up and suddenly his grip increases and our bodies are merged back together. I think his heart beat seems have picked up the pace but it is hard to tell over the feel of my own heart pulsing in my chest. The clothing I wear that was too little coverage earlier now feels smothering. The Colonel moves his hands to my waist. His thumbs gently rub back and forth across my bare midriff. Both of my hands are now moving up and down his six pack abs and then I lower my fingers until they are just inside the top of his jeans pulling the material toward me. 

The next song has started but neither of us seem to really noticed. We continue the seductive dance until the beat picks up and someone accidentally bumps into me. The Colonel growls, but then breaks his hold and heads off the dance floor. I follow, but when I reach the table and begin to sit, the Colonel pushes my jacket at me.




A New Assignment Pt. 03



"Here! We're leaving." He sounds angry. 

I wonder if I did something to embarrass him in my drunken stupor. I know I have had a lot to drink but I still feel like I have control of my action. I don't think I am being obnoxious or loud or acting like an idiot. Maybe he was upset by my feeling him up, although he seemed to be enjoying it.

After we make our way back through the crowd and out the parking lot, the Colonel pushes the helmet at me and jumps on the bike.

"Let's go!"

"Are you mad at me?" I ask sounding like a scolded child.

"No. It is just time to go."

We pull into my driveway. I manage to get off the bike as graceful as a drunk in a mini skirt possibly can. The Colonel is still sitting on the bike and has not turned the engine off. I hand him the helmet and wait. He turns around and straps the helmet to the seat behind him and then starts backing up the bike step by step.

"So I guess this is good night. Thanks for the dinner and drinks." I say in a barely audible tone and then I turn and unlock the front door. 

I move inside, closing the door behind me and I hear the roar of the engine as he drives away into the early morning light. I trudge upstairs and prepare for bed. I remember to drink another large glass of water to help rehydrate and then quickly fall asleep.

The doorbell wakes me. I sit up and the room is spinning. My head is killing and my stomach is not too happy either. I look at the clock and see that I was only asleep for four hours. Ugh! I head downstairs, open the front door and find the Colonel standing there with a paper sack in one hand and a tray of two coffees in the other. He smiles. He looks perfect. No hang over. I on the other hand have creases on my cheek from the sheets, my hair is a mess, and I realize I am wearing some fairly see-thru lingerie that I didn't even remember putting on in my drunken stupor.

"Figure you'd need this." The Colonel says stepping into the living room. He doesn't stop walking but heads upstairs directly into my bedroom. I just stand there in shock watching him. I finally close the front door and head up to the bedroom as well. As soon as I walk in the room a t-shirt came flying at my face.

"Here, cover yourself." He grunts.

"Why, this is my home and you show up uninvited."

"Well, I'm here now and I don't want to be looking at that hideous cheap trash on your body."

I throw the shirt down and say "I'll have you know that this is very expensive lingerie and I happen to..."

He moves quicker than my eyes register and then his lips are on mine. Before I know what is happening, we are embracing each other. Our arms are entwined and our bodies are pressed together. There seems to be an electric current buzzing between us.

The Colonel's cell phone rings and we break apart instantly. He answers with a low growl, but says no words. Then he says "I'm on my way." And he turns to leave.

"Colonel?" I say softly and he turns hesitantly.

I thank him for the breakfast and hold out one of the coffees for him. He takes the coffee and leans in placing a soft slow kiss on my lips. Then he leaves.

The days pass by normally. I have been working back-to-back shifts at the hospital. They are short handed and have more patients than the staff can manage. I only go home every other day now. There is a complete set of toiletries and clothes in my locker at work. The small futon in the staff lounge has become my bed. Dr Morgan has been working almost as many hours, lives on base and tends to actually go home some days. Even he has spent sleeping hours in the staff lounge. After three weeks of craziness, the pace seems to slow back to a tolerable level. I check my schedule and finally have two whole days off in a row. I shake with excitement. Paul peeks over my shoulder and sees that there are a few regular staffers that were granted reprieve while a contractor team comes in to help out. 

He suggests that those of us with days off should go out to celebrate. The last thing I want to do is spend more time with co-workers. I like them, but really want some alone time. Working so much doesn't allow much time for the brain to rest. I am always busy blocking thoughts and feelings and energies from those around me. But I could use a drink, so I agree as long as the others are up for it. I want to make sure that it doesn't end up just being me and Paul. He is always smiling at me with this look that gives me the heebie jeebies, even after I have made it clear that I will have no interest in colleagues.



A New Assignment Pt. 04



Friday night the gang meets up just outside the front doors of the hospital. There are a few doctors and nurses I recognize and several I don't. We divide up in to three cars of five each and head out. No one really knows where we are going except for Paul and he is driving the lead vehicle. We leave the base in a caravan and eventually end up at The Shire. 

"Do you guys come here often?" I ask in surprise. 

First I have never even heard of this place and now I am brought here the only two times I haves gone out with folks from base.

"No. This place has been here for awhile, but it's hard to get into. Paul made reservations." smiles a blond nurse from the front seat. 

I have not worked with her before, and even without trying I sense that this young woman is interested in Doctor Paul. Good. Maybe she can keep him busy so he won't try and hit on me.

The place is almost as packed as the last time I was there. The group struggles to stay together as we force our way inside. It was definitely harder that walking in with the Colonel. We push and bump and finally make it to the bar. 

There are three empty stools and fifteen people in the group. The blond nurse jumps up on one of the stools and waves Paul over. He moves toward the bar to order a round of drinks. The nurse tries to wrap her legs around Paul's backside but is blocked when he pulls a few of the group in toward them. 

'Sweet Home Alabama' is piping through the place and I decide it might be best to head for the dance floor and get some breathing space. I can get a drink later although it is doubtful that there will be any more space then either. I hit the dance floor and start to sway and move to the beat. This is one of my favorite songs. 

There are quite a few people dancing but not enough where it is uncomfortable. The night is still young. Paul wanted to make sure we got here early so that none of us would be turned away due to crowd control. I focus on the music and relaxing my body. I close my mind to everyone and everything else and just enjoy the here and now alone with no thoughts. 

Dancing around, something catches my eye. It's the table where I sat just a few weeks ago. It is currently occupied by the Colonel and he is not alone. The Colonel is leaning back with both his arms stretched out resting on the top of the booth. A trampy looking brunette is snuggling up to him, nearly sitting on his lap. The Colonel's face is expressionless. I curse to myself. I didn't intend to look that way and I shouldn't care that he is not alone. Why does it bother me? I silently curse again and turn quickly to rejoin my group before being spotted. 

Most of the hospital group is now scattered throughout the place. I near the bar to order a drink just as the bartender turns and places a beer, a shot, and a napkin directly in front of me. Before I can question him, the bartender has moved down the line to another customer. I pick up the shot and notice that the napkin has something written on it. Upon closer inspection, I see that it is not just the bar logo, it's a note. 

"Restrooms five minutes" 

This has to be another one of the Colonel's little messages. Urg. He saw me. I down the shot and most of the beer, and wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand. I adjust myself and head back to meet the Colonel. 

There are four doors located down the hallway, two on the right, one on the left, and one straight ahead. The first door is the men's restroom, then the ladies. At the end is the kitchen. The forth door is not labeled. I lean against the wall between the two restroom doors and notice the Colonel walking straight toward me in a brisk manner. I open my mouth to speak but stop when he grabs my hand and pulls me behind him toward the mystery door. He opens the door, swings me in, and closes the door. I am feeling like a rag doll being tossed about.

We are standing in a very large room that looks almost like an office but more like a hunting lodge. There are wood paneled walls. A fireplace is set across from a couch and some other chairs. There is a large wood desk and several tall wood file cabinets way in the back. One wall is completely shelved and filled with books. This room is probably the size of my whole house. 

I lean against the door and turn to look at the Colonel trying to get some idea of what we are doing here. His places his hands on each side of my face and he kisses me. It is a brief kiss but passionate. I just stand there with my hands at my sides. I am not sure what just happened. The Colonel smiles which gives me the gift of one of his rare smiles. It seems genuine.

"Mmm. I've been waiting to do that." He says casually walking toward the couch and sitting down.

I stood there motionless and speechless. He turns and looks at me.

"Aren't you going to join me?" He pats the couch next to him.

Like a dog, I follow his command walking over and sitting on the couch. I am careful not to sit too close to him. I am still not sure what game it is we are playing this time.

"Um, what am I doing here?" 

"You're enjoying my company." Did he just make a joke? The Colonel is acting very weird I start thinking, but his words interrupt my thoughts. 

"Actually, I am surprised to see you here tonight." 

We sit there in silence. I am looking straight ahead at the roaring fire. The Colonel is sitting angled toward my body but I can't be certain where he is looking. I feel like I am being watched but I don't want to look and have him think that I am checking him out. 

Instead, I reach out with my senses attempting to hear what he is thinking. He is blocking my probe. How can he do that? How does he know I am probing? More silence. I am tired of this game. I stand and tell him that I should be getting back to my group. I suggest that his little friend might be missing his company too. He chuckles but doesn't move.

"Jealous?" he asks.

"No!" I say a little too quickly.

"She's nothing. She bores me." he replies gesturing with his hand like he is dismissing the thought. I am wondering why I am still standing there. Why aren't my legs working and walking me right out the door? It's as if my mind and brain are not speaking the same language. 

The Colonel stands quickly. 

"Okay, let's go, but first..." 

He moves quickly and kisses me again. This kiss is different. There is more emotion. His arms are wrapped around me and his tongue finds my mouth. I am dizzy from his taste and glad that he is holding me because I might otherwise have collapsed to the floor. 

"...remember that when you are partying tonight." 

We leave the office as quickly as we went in. The Colonel walks back toward his booth and the brunette is waiting for him. Now that my legs are working, they move me towards the ladies room as I need to recompose myself. I take some deep breathes trying to slow my heart rate. What was that?! 

I look up and see the blond nurse was standing in front of the mirror reapplying her lipstick. She notices me after a few moments and smiles. 

"I'm Mikayla, but everyone calls me Kay. I know we haven't worked together before. You're Dr Sloan, right?" I nod and shake her hand that is extended. 

"Nice to meet you." 

"Are you interested in Dr Morgan?" Kay asks directly.

"Definitely not!" I reply. 

I sense her questioning why I would reject him so I put her as ease by saying, "He is a very nice guy and an excellent doctor, but I never date colleagues."

Kay looks pleased and exhales a sigh of relief.

"Oh good. I think he likes you, but I have the biggest crush on him. He is just the cutest sweetest man. I have been trying to switch my work schedule so I could be on some of his shifts to try and spend more time with him. I know he would like me once he got to know me." Kay is a very fast energized talker I quickly realize.

"I might be able to help with the schedule issue. I'll see what I can do."

"Oh that would be awesome! I would be forever grateful! I am a good nurse. I work really hard. I don't want you thinking that I would be slacking off and drooling watching Dr Morgan." Kay looks at her reflection "Do I look okay, my hair and makeup? I don't want to look trashy but I was trying to catch his eye. Your outfit is more understated, so maybe I overdid it and he prefers more classic looks. What has he told you? Can you give me any advice?" 

I gaze down at my outfit. It was perfectly appropriate for this type of atmosphere: slightly faded denim jeans that hug my curves, a v-neck button up black shirt showing just a slight amount of cleavage, a chunky contemporary silver necklace and ring, and low heeled black leather shoes. She made it sound like my look was stuffy or boring.

"Um, I am really not sure what he likes. I try not to discuss that with him since I am not interested in dating him. It may be interpreted wrong, if you know what I mean. Just be yourself. If he doesn't notice you, then it's his loss."

"Oh thanks. You are so nice. Some of the other girls say you're snobby since you don't really talk about anything other than work, but I knew they had to be wrong. You have this glow about you. We should hang out sometime. Maybe we can go shopping."  

"We should probably get back out there so you can work your charms on Dr Morgan." 

I am not in the mood to be talking with this hyper young woman in love. It rather makes me want to puke. I can sense that she looks up to me and has a younger sister-type fascination with me. I am going to have to be careful with this one.

We reach the bar together and Paul is waiting. He approaches without even noticing Kay and asks me to dance. I tell him that I am not felling well, but I step aside and suggest that maybe Kay could take my place. I immediate sense her happiness and she is all smiles. Paul looks disappointed but offers his hand to Kay. She winks back at me as they walk away. Well at least I got that right. Maybe he'll take the hint. 

I spot an empty pool table and make my way over. I rack the balls and look around for cue-stick. A good looking guy saunters over and asks if he can join. His introduces himself as Brad. He is most definitely from the base as he has the standard crew cut, solid muscles and confidence that most of the military men possess. It must be part of the application process. Brad ends up winning the game. He would like to stay for another but he has to leave. He asks for my number, which is what I usually try to avoid. I try graciously to turn him down. Since I have moved so often, it has been my motto to focus on career and leave social goals until later. It would do no good to find someone and then have to work at maintaining a long distance relationship when I ultimately move.

I rack again to play another game, a solo one this time. A waitress passes and sets down a beer and a shot at the table nearby. She motions that the beverages are for me. How does he do it? He must tip really well if are tracking down people to give them drinks. 

I don't even remember him paying when we were here. There was never a bill. There was no tip left on table. The Colonel never left me alone. When did he pay? I chug both drinks trying to clear my mind or rather distract myself. This place is turning me into a lush. I can't remember the last time I drank so often other than the occasional glass of wine alone at home watching a good movie.

At the end of evening as the group is getting ready to head back to the hospital, I walk over to the bar to settle my tab. The bartender comes by and I ask for my bill. He tells me that I don't have a tab and then wishes me a nice evening. Everyone else in the group is paying for their drinks. I am standing there awestruck. It surprises me that the Colonel would cover everything I drank tonight but at least it was compensation for having to deal with all the charades. It's like those Visa Card commercials: gas to get to bar $5, money for outfit $150, getting two kisses out of the blue and several free drinks = priceless. I chuckle to no one in particular.

The caravan makes it back to the base around midnight. I hop into my Jeep and don't bother sticking around as the others were leaning on their cars talking. As I reached my street, I see the Colonel on his motorcycle sitting in my driveway of all places. I pull up alongside him and roll down my window.

"Are you stalking me?"

"You left without saying good-bye."

"I didn't know I needed your permission to leave. And by the way, you have left several times without a salutation." 

"It is not always safe to be out alone around here at night. I just wanted to make sure you got home safely. Good night." He lit up the bike and took off.

That was weirder than normal but at least I am not surprised by his abrupt departure this time. It is actually comforting to find some consistency with that man. Such a small gain, but something at least. I shake my head pulling into the garage, close the door and go inside.

The next day I sleep in. It was the first opportunity in weeks and by golly I was going to take full advantage of it. My schedule changes so frequently that there was no knowing when there would be another chance. The sun was shining, that was a rare thing too this time of year. 

I finally drag myself out of bed, grab my MP3 player and take a brisk jog. The fresh cool air is exhilarating although breathing in it so deeply stings my nose slightly. My legs stretch out and flex powerfully propelling me forward. The feel of working my muscles is wonderful.

After a five mile trek, I head home and spend a few hours taking care of household duties. Paying bills, cleaning, laundry, all the not fun stuff has to be done eventually. Then I spend some time replying to friends' emails. 

Other than Angie, I have been lousy at staying in touch with friends over the years. Most of my relationships have now turned into annual Christmas cards or a random email joke. It was moments like this that I missed having close friends to call and laugh with over silly daily life events. Occasionally I pondered leaving the hospital atmosphere and starting a private practice. I could set regular hours and have some stability. That would be the easy option though. I became a doctor to help others. My gift is too precious to waste being lazy and selfish. 

The ringing phone draws me out of my daydream. It is the hospital call me back in to work. There was an automobile accident and five patients were being rushed over. Their conditions ranged from stable to critical. Instinctively I throw on freshly laundered scrubs and cruise back to the hospital. See, stability. The hospital always calls on my days off.

The buses arrived about the same time I pull into the doctors' parking. There was a gurney with a very bloody young serviceman. He was wearing his fatigues and military issued boots. Three more gurneys came along each looking almost identical to the first. All young servicemen, all bloody. 

An elderly woman was on the next gurney. She was not moving and appeared to be barely breathing. One of the lenses from her eyeglasses was impaled in her cheek. Looks like an airbag might have done that damage. I move directly toward the woman grasping her hand and talking to her in a soothing slow voice. The woman's eyes were closed and unresponsive to light. She had a faint pulse but was unconscious. An EMT tells me her name is Evelyn and she is eighty-three years old. Nothing was found in her purse that noted she was on any medication. 

One of the EMTs was able to piece together what happened by looking at the scene and from the stories mumbled by the injured men. The men were driving back to base in a Ford Explorer. They were apparently traveling at an extremely high rate of speed. Evelyn must have been leaving her home and as she drove through an intersection in which she had the right of way. Her Buick was broad sided. The men were not wearing seat belts and were thrown from their vehicle. Evelyn was trapped in her vehicle. The impact buckled the car and it practically folded in half with her in the middle. Even the seatbelt she was wearing could not provide any protection from this type of collision. 

I focus all my energy on healing Evelyn. Several broken bones, a ruptured spleen, and a collapsed lung were not easy to repair and this woman was clearly not going to survive a surgery. There was blood everywhere from the cheek wound. I extract the lens and worked on stopping the blood. If I could stop the blood and partially heal some of the more minor wounds, Evelyn might be strong enough for surgery. It is her only hope.

My senses tell me that Evelyn is calm and it feels like she may be giving up her fight. I try to tell her that I am here to help her and she needs to fight. I feel her heart beat slow and then stop altogether. No! She will not die! I grab the paddles of the defibrillator to give her a current of electricity that should restore a normal cardiac rhythm. There is no response. I try again and focus my energy hoping that by using my skill along with the hospital tools I can revive Evelyn. After five minutes, I call the time of death. 

I feel broken. I have never lost a patient on the table like this. Why couldn't I do more to save her? Why didn't my abilities help? I am exhausted from overusing my energy and I am close to tears. I try to maintain my professionalism and not allow my co-workers see a potential breakdown.

I leave the room and search quickly for a private room. There are no unoccupied rooms so I opt for an empty stair well. I lean over the railing. The damns burst as tears fall from my eyes. I can't remember the last time I have felt so sad or cried so much. I barely hear the door behind me open. I am not prepared to face anyone but I turn and find the Colonel standing there looking at me with empathy. This was not an emotion I thought that man even had. Neither of us speak. The Colonel walks over to the top stair and he sits quietly. My body moves and I find myself sitting between his legs on the second stair resting my head on his chest. Comfort comes as he wraps his thick arms around me. No words are spoken and I continue to weep. Warmth and a sense of love overcome me. I am not sure the source, but I pull myself together and force my emotions back down. This is a job and I need to focus on what I can do and not on things that are beyond my control. That fine line between me and God continues to elude me. Finally, I wipe my tears, stand up and leave the stairwell (and the Colonel).



A New Assignment Pt. 05



Chapter 6

My friend, Rachel, comes to visit me the following week. We go out to have some fun and find ourselves at a bar quite a ways from my home. We have a few drinks and four men saunter over to buy us a round. Rachel, the ever incorrigible flirt, graciously accepts flashing a sexy smile. 

The tall handsome men introduce themselves as Lucas, Shelton, Kyle, and Rocky. They are all similar in appearance and are most likely brothers. Dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin adorn the four large well built men.

During our chat, we find out that the guys recently moved to the area to work on several construction projects their boss just contracted. After the job gets started more of their crew will be traveling here to help out. The home office is located in Atlanta, GA but my ears don't register a southern drawl from any of them. In fact, there are no distinguishable accents that I can recognize.

Rachel decides that she wants to go dancing. Lucas asks if they can join us. The only place I know of is the Shire. I do not want to go there or take Rachel or lead these men there, but no alternative option comes to mind, so that is exactly what I do. 

As always, the place is packed. The men follow us in although the bouncer has some words with them before they are allowed to enter. When I question them to see if there was a problem, Lucas smiles and tells me is was just macho talk and nothing else. Without even trying, I can tell that he is lying to me, but I say nothing. These are complete strangers and maybe it was really none of my business. I could have easily probed his mind, but decide against it like I almost always do.

Rocky walks off and returns with six beers. I really hate beer. Following him is a waitress who sets down six shots of Gold Schlager. I immediately look around from my stalker, the Colonel. I should have known if I came here mysterious drinks would be showing up. The shots could have been ordered by Rocky, but I know better. No one says anything about the drinks showing up. We all grab one and shot 'em back. 

I resume my search for the Colonel. His regular booth is empty and there are no jackets hanging up on the tiny hook next to it. Doing a cursory scan of the dance floor there is no visual of my target there either. Maybe he is actually not here?

I wasn't paying any attention to the men standing near me. Shelton nudges my arm to gain my attention and asks if I want to dance. Before I can utter a single word, Lucas takes my hand and pulls me out to the floor. The song is a more upbeat but seductive tune. Lucas' eyes look lighter than I thought they were earlier and they are gazing up and down my body. 

I am wearing a conservative black dress that has a simple v-neck and a flattering length that hits my knees. My Jimmy Choo's are uncomfortable but are the perfect compliment. Plain thin large white-gold hoops dangled from my ears. Simple and understated was the look I was going for. 

Tonight was supposed to be about spending time with my friend catching up on her life not out flirting with strange guys. I should have known that when she said she had broken up with her boyfriend that she was interested in scoping for men instead of staying home eating pizza and chatting with an old friend. I return my focus to Lucas. He is being the perfect gentleman as we dance closely without any contact. 

I excuse myself to go to the restroom as the song ends. Oblivious to my surroundings, I let out a screech when caught completely off guard as someone grabs my arm and pulls. Once again I find myself in the office of the Shire. I am against the closed door almost ready to scream now that I have my breath back. 

The Colonel is there. He is leaning toward me with his hands placed on the door on either side of my head. I am furious with him for grabbing me yet again, but he is hot. He looks angry, but all I want to do is close my eyes and wait for his kiss. His nose is flaring and he is radiating anger. He smothers me with a kiss and pauses. I keep my eyes closed and wait for the next one. When nothing else happens, I open my eyes and see his smile. He is smiling at me.

"Why are you smiling at me? And why did you grab me again? You are really turning into a stalker."

He leans about an inch from my face and says "You came to the Shire, I did not go looking for you. And I'm smiling because you wanted me to kiss you again."

"I did not! I was closing my eyes because you do what you want without ever asking."

"Do you want me to kiss you?" That surprises me. 

"Why ask now, you already did."

"I won't again if you don't want me to. There were no complaints before." 

He waits for a response. I do enjoy his kisses. I do not want to tell him that. I avoid the question. 

"What do you want this time? You are always just showing up and pulling me around." He smirks hinting that he has not missed the fact that I didn't answer his question but leaves it alone.

He moves away from me and says "Who are the men that you came with tonight?"

Oh. He is jealous. Again. Very insecure. Yet I don't sense insecurity. I want to try to probe again but don't want to risk him sensing it like he did at the hospital.

"My friend and I met them tonight at a bar a few towns away. Rachel, my friend that is visiting, wanted to dance and this was the only place I knew of in the area that had a dance floor. I'll look for another place in the future." I said that last part a little rudely but I did not apologize.

The Colonel says nothing but appears to be in deep thought.

"Is your friend, Rachel, staying with you?"

"I don't think that is any of your business but she is here on business so her company put her up in a hotel."

"Good. I would like to escort you two young ladies home this evening when you are ready to go."

Is he actually asking for permission before doing something? It was not technically a question but rather a statement.

"I think we'll be fine. My house is not far from here as you might recall."

"I have told you before that it is not safe for you to be out at night alone. Don't be stubborn. Please just let me do this."

"Fine." My mouth is moving before my brain comprehends what he just said. It is the first time I ever heard him say please to anyone. "Wait. What about my car?"

"We can take your car."

He walks toward me again. I realize that I am still against the door and have not moved an inch since being pulled into the room. I feel a sense of deja vu. He leans back toward me again putting his hands against the door on both sides of my head. My pulse quickens involuntarily.

"I am going to kiss you again Dr Sloan."

I am about to tell him that a statement was not the same as asking for permission but his lips are once again pressed against mine. God he is a good kisser. His lips are so soft and warm. They mold to mine perfectly. His nose gently brushes mine and his scent is intoxicating. I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck, but he steps back before my arms touch him. 

"Not tonight love." he says through clenched teeth. "It's time for you to go back. Have fun with your friend but remember our deal. When you are ready to leave, let the bartender know and then head out to your car. I will meet you there. No matter what you do, do not let your four guests leave at the same time as you. Do you understand me?"

I nod obediently having no clue why he is being so crazy. Is it protectiveness? I risk being caught and attempt a quick probe. His thoughts are focused on something and it is making him very angry. He is worried about....me. Why is worried about me? I get a quick flash of the four guys that I met this evening standing next to me and Rachel. It must have been when we first came in the bar. This snapshot in his brain is what is causing his anger. It is not jealousy. It is almost as if he wants to tear the four men to shreds. I stop the probe before I am caught. 

If he is this mad then I will just cooperate. Hopefully I can get more answers from him later. I don't know him well, but I do know that he has never hurt me. The men I met tonight are complete strangers and Lucas already lied to me once.

Leaving the office, I continue to my original destination. Rachel is in the ladies room when I enter. 

"There you are! I have been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?" She yells at me as she leans on the counter touching up her makeup.

"Oh, I was on the dance floor and then played some pool." How long was I talking with the Colonel?

Rachel looks like she is not buying my story, but she changes the subject.

"So those guys are pretty cute. Don't cha think?"

"Yeah I guess. There are a ton of cute men on base. I guess I have gotten used to seeing them everywhere." We laugh at my comment.

"Shelton asked for my number." she smiles.

"Did you give it to him?" I asked trying to sound uninterested. I am not sure if I trust these guys after all.

Rachel continues touching up her makeup and smiling at her reflection.

"Oh stop worrying. I gave him my date number."

"What date number?" I ask surprised.

"Oh when I started dating again, I got a special line that I use just for dating. It is a phone number forwarded to my cell phone. That way I can ignore it if the guy was a loser." Smart girl. 

I follow a similar setup with my pager and cell phone for work. I keep business and personal separated by giving out a personal number that is forwarded to my business number.

"Well I think that maybe we should head home. You just flew in today and didn't you say that there were early morning meetings tomorrow?"

"Yes." she sighs. "Work. It gets in the way of life." Again we laugh. She wraps her arm around my shoulder and we stroll out of the restroom giggling.

"I don't want these guys following us and finding out where I live. I don't need any problems." 

I tell her hoping that she will understand. Living alone as a female is much riskier than living alone as a male. We have to maintain some sense of security. Any lunatic can walk around disguised as a normal guy.

"Oh I understand. Is there a rear exit to this place?"

"Good question. I never noticed." 

I was considering telling her about the Colonel and how he was going to be our escort, but decided it was better not to say anything. We needed to get free and clear from our new found friends first. My skin was being irritated by this strange buzzing sensation. This was not something I have ever experienced before, but instinctively I knew it was not good.

"Why don't we try to walk around the other side of the bar and hope they don't notice us?" I suggest rubbing my arms to relive the tingling sensation. 

"Oh Sam! That is so rude. Just tell them the truth. We are tired and have to get up early so we are heading home. If they offer to escort us, and I doubt they will, tell them that we have it covered and say good night. Why would they want to follow us back when they have their own car? You are getting paranoid moving around all the time. It's really no biggie." 

I am feeling nervous, but take Rachel's lead. She has always been better with the men then I have. She can talk her way into or out of anything depending on her goal. This was something I have yet to master. 

We make our way back to the bar and the men are laughing at some joke Rocky just told. Rachel announces that we are calling it a night and will be heading home. Lucas looks like he is planning to say or do something, but then the thought fades. 

I lean over to the bartender to see if we have a tab to handle. I know that there is no tab, but that was the only thing I thought of in order to tell him we were leaving so he could notify the Colonel. The bartender tells me there is no tab and Lucas touches my shoulder. His touch surprises me since he has been hands free until this point. 

"Everything is all taken care of darlin'. It was our pleasure to meet you both and spend some time getting to know you. I'd like to see you again. I'd like to give you my number and ask that you call me sometime" He hands me a business card with a number scrolled on the back. Wow. I did not expect that. 

I nod, accepting the card and then put it in my purse. He winks. I wouldn't mind seeing him again. He was polite and funny. And of course there are his looks. He is plain gorgeous, tall and brooding. He is what I would categorize as a typical "BDG" (which stands for big dumb guy). Years ago my friends decided that I was always attracted to those guys that looked big and dumb but were really intelligent.

We say good-bye to the guys and manage our way back to my Jeep. I unlock her door and then go around to the driver side. The Colonel is leaning against the side. I knew he was going to meet us but I was not expecting him to be standing there. I jumped and let out a tiny squeal. Oh I was brave and tough. The Colonel laughs and holds out his hands.

"Keys my dear." 

Again I notice he doesn't ask a question but just gives orders. Maybe this was a hazard from his job. When one has to give orders all the time they probably get used to telling and not asking. That was my current working theory anyways. 

I hand him the keys. He opens the doors and introduces himself to Rachel as Taylor. He cleverly leaves out the Colonel part. I have to climb in the back. I am wearing a dress and now I have to climb into the back. How does one do that gracefully? Luckily my dress was long enough that I managed to get myself in back without exposing anything. 

Rachel and the Colonel talked the whole time we were driving toward the hotel. It was the most I ever heard him say. And if I didn't know better I would think he was trying to impress her. He was polite and pleasant and the complete opposite of how he was with me. I was somewhat offended. It made me wonder why he was so different and aloof with me. One could develop a complex from something like that.

When we reach the hotel, the Colonel pulls the Jeep right up to the front entrance. He gets out and holds my hand as I got out. Cautiously moving, I manage to get out without falling on my head or embarrassing myself. I walked around the car to hug Rachel. 

She whispers "He's a keeper. Don't lose this one." I roll my eyes at her and she nudges me and nods up and down with a knowing look in her eye.

She tells me she will call me after her meetings tomorrow and see if I have time to get together again. She will be in town for the week. We talk about trying to shoot for getting a massage later in the week.

I get back in the Jeep and the Colonel drives me home. He is quiet during the ride. This ticks me off since he was so chatty with Rachel. I am back to overanalyzing his mood swings. He parks the Jeep and follows me inside. 

"Well. I'm home. Safe and sound. Are you happy now?" I ask.

He says nothing but continues to look at me with those luscious eyes that could easily hypnotize. He sniffs the air like my house smells bad. It makes me self conscious so I sniff the air too. 

"What? Do you smell something?"

"Yes."

"What?!" I ask impatiently.

"Nothing you can smell. Don't worry about it."

I walk toward him and poke him with my index finger "Look buddy. I am not going to put up with this anymore. Didn't the marines teach you any manners? Why can you be so pleasant to everyone else when you are off duty except for me?"

"So you want me to nice to you?" 

I sense him going to lean in to kiss me and divert quickly to my right. He seems to read my move and counters to his left and kisses me. He takes my arms and puts them up by his neck like I had attempted to do before at the Shire. Always on his terms. 

Even in my frustration I continue to kiss him. My hands grab his short soft hair and move back and forth enjoying the sensation. His body gently pushes mine backwards. He grabs just under my butt cheeks and lifts me up so that my legs are wrapped around him and he is holding me. Our lips firmly together the whole time. My mouth is on fire. His tongue is sliding in and out and my mouth gladly accepts each movement. 

He finally sits on the over-sized chair taking me with him and I end up straddling him. My hands move from his hair down to his shoulders and then chest. His hands are on my waist. He takes his right hand and touches my knee. His hand slowly moves up my thigh until he touches the hem of my dress. 

I keep trying to remind myself that I do not date coworkers. There is an internal struggle between him not technically being a coworker since he does not work in the hospital and him being a coworker since he works on base. His left hand brushes against my cheek and I lose all train of thought. 

Just when I want to ask him what we are doing, I hear "It is not always on my terms Dr Sloan." I know I hear the words, but we are still kissing. I realize that he just pushed those words into my head. I can hear him laugh. He knows that I can hear him and he can hear me. What is he? How long has he been able to hear my thoughts?

"What are you?"

"It doesn't matter love. All that matters is that we are here together." 

His mouth leaves mine and travels down my neck gently kissing as he moves along. He settles on the curve between my neck and shoulder and rubs his nose playfully. His tongue barely touches my ear lobe and I let out a quiet moan. He feels so good. It has been so long since I have been with someone.

He leans back just a little and says "Sam, we need to talk." I don't want to talk. Right now I want you butt naked in my bed making love to me. How quickly I forget that he can listen to my thoughts. His face is serious but he raises an eyebrow that lets me know he heard my inner desires. I blush.

"What? And how can you hear my thoughts? Stay out of my head!"

"You started, at the hospital. And I am not sure how you can do it either. But that doesn't matter right now. Those guys with you at the Shire are bad news. They are into some deadly activities and you need to stay as far away from them as you can. I am going to be keeping a close eye on you, so don't think you can run from me."

"How do I know that you are not the bad news and maybe they will protect me from you?"

"You're a very smart doctor. I am confident that you can tell good from evil given enough time. I am just speeding up the learning process." He pauses briefly before continuing.

"Look, I am going to tell you some things that you may not be able to understand. You need to trust me. I know that you can tell my true intentions so I will open up and let you probe without being blocked once I am done talking. I am a lycanthrope or some would say a werewolf."

I didn't need to hear anything else. The guy is a lunatic. This has me tensing and moving as far back as I could while still straddling his legs. 

"I can feel your tension. I am not a danger to you or anyone for that matter. I have been this way for a long time and do not feed from humans. My wolf does come out at least once a month usually during the full moon, but the change is something I control. There are others like me on the base. 

I am what we refer to as the Alpha or leader of the pack. We have a very rigid organizational structure much like the Marines. That is why we are drawn to the military. We can understand the chain of command and the violence. We are also much stronger than the average human and we have a longer life span. As you saw in the hospital, we have the ability to heal ourselves as long as we are not injured with silver. That is our weakness...our kryptonite if you will. 

I know this is a lot of information thrown at you, and I would not normally tell a human. But you are different. I don't know what you are, but I can sense there is something special within you. You are definitely human. I can smell that much. Yet you can heal and hear my thoughts. I would like to know what you are and what you can do when you are ready to share. 




A New Assignment Pt. 05



In the meantime, I have to tell you that the four men you brought to the Shire are also wolves. They are transient and move around without a true home. This makes them dangerous. They are not bound by moral codes like those who settle in a specific area. They may kill for pleasure or worse. 

I could sense that the alpha of the group was the one that showed interest in you. This behavior is expected as the alpha will always be able to identify the alpha female in the area. If he sets his sights on you, he will not rest until he has you. That is how wolves work. We are very determined and very territorial. There is a change that they are just passing through and he will not get the urge to claim you as his mate. 

This is a lot of information. You probably think I need to go to the looney bin, but please give me a chance to show you. I will let you probe now and ask me any questions you have."

I was silent for a long time just looking at him. I looked at his hands and his legs. I felt his fingers and touched his face. I couldn't believe that the beautiful man in front of me was saying that he was an animal that could kill if he so chose. He seemed calm but I have felt his anger. 

He was a Colonel in the United States Marines. How could this man be insane? How could he get to his position with thoughts like that? Could it even be remotely true? Maybe he was just naturally hairy or craved raw meat or something. I am sure there is some scientific explanation for anything he thinks supposedly makes him a lycanthrope. A thousand thoughts passed as I tried to wrap my mind around what the Colonel had said. 

He sat there patiently waiting for me to respond. I probed his mind and felt him guide me through his memories from times when he was a child to his adolescence. He was about thirteen when he was standing in a field not feeling well. He was bent over holding his stomach in such pain. Then in the blink of an eye, a wolf was standing where the boy once stood. These were memories and not false images, but I don't understand how it is possible. 

There were more memories. I felt his pride when he became a Marine and found a purpose in life. I saw times when his wolf played with children to times when he was running as a wolf. His struggle to hide his true identity from friends who were outsiders.  

I could see what he was seeing. I could feel what he was feeling. I did not feel threatening. I felt happiness when running, enjoyment when playing and dedication when fighting. I sensed that he was old, much older than his youthful face presented. He was pushing so many memories and feelings at me that I had to stop. My energy quickly faded. When I pulled back, he stopped transmitting. 

Medically I knew that lycanthropes were a myth and that there had been no scientific proof that any existed. Personally I believe that we have not discovered everything that exists on this earth and I tend to avoid dismissing myths until it can be proven or busted, which is why coincidentally 'Mythbusters' is one of my favorite shows. I need to see scientific evidence.

I didn't ask any questions, instead I told the Colonel. "I want to see the wolf." 

Surprise covered his face but there was something else. I think it was embarrassment. 

"No. I will not show you my wolf. That is not something you can ask of me."

"I didn't ask, just like you don't ask. I am telling you what I want. Is there something I should fear by seeing the wolf? You have told me essentially that I am safe."

We sat in silence. I started to move myself so that I was standing and no longer across his legs. 

"There is nothing that you should fear from my wolf as I told you. I prefer not to show you. That is something very personal to me and I do not make myself vulnerable. There is still a lot that I need to teach you about wolves."

I stood there with my arms across my chest just waiting. This was something I had to win. I needed to know what he was. I needed to see with my own eyes.

"Bloody hell woman! Look, I am not showing you my wolf because I don't want to frighten you. My wolf has chosen you as its mate and it could not handle your rejection." He closed his eyes and hung his head.

"What did you just say? I have been chosen as a mate. What?" 

I wanted to reach forward and touch him. I could sense that he was truly embarrassed and that he was afraid of my rejection. This vulnerable man was not the strong arrogant man who bossed everyone around. I almost felt sympathy for him rather than empathy. Why would my opinion matter?

"I told you that there is a lot I still need to tell you. I don't want to flood you with information any more than you have already experienced. For now, just let me say that a wolf picks a mate for life. Once a mate is chosen, the wolf will not let her go. The wolf will love her and protect her. Like a human marriage, it is until death do they part. A mated wolf can sense his mate from a great distance. He can sense her moods and can hear her thoughts when she allows him. The mate in turn can sense the wolf's moods and thoughts. We are one, yet we are not one. Ugh...this is not coming out right. I have never had to do this before. I somehow thought it would be easier." 

I used the remainder of my energy to comfort the Colonel. I was still reeling over all that he had told me and showed me, but for some reason it was important that he wasn't hurting. He looked up at me as if he sensed what I was doing.

"I can feel you comforting me, just like I felt you at the hospital. It was what drew the wolf to notice you."

I crawled back onto his lap like I did the day at the hospital when my patient, Evelyn, died. My head restes on his chest and again he wrapped his arms around me. I wasn't sure what I was feeling or thinking, but at that moment I had no energy to do anything else. I closed my eyes and fell asleep. 

When I woke, I realized I was alone on my couch. Reaching out with my senses, I knew that the Colonel was no longer there. My head was reeling from his confession about being a wolf. What the hell? At least I don't have to face him this morning. The one time I allow myself to be attracted to a coworker and possibly be something more than friends, he turns out to be a freak.

I padded barefoot into the kitchen to make coffee. My dress from the night before was all wrinkled and I knew my hair and face had to look worse. The red light was flashing on my machine to notify me that I had a message. That's funny, I never even heard the phone ring. I pressed the play button and then started pouring coffee into my favorite pink mug.

"Sam, this is Taylor. I know I am probably the last person you want to talk to, but we need to talk. Call me when you are ready. I am not going anywhere. I will wait for you."

Shaking my head, I decided that I needed a shower. I wasn't going to think about anything except for getting clean and relaxing. There are several hours until I am due back at work and that time would be spent selfishly on me and not anyone else.

The rest of the day and the following few days go smoothly. I am able to avoid thinking about or talking to the Colonel. He has not called and I have not seen him around the hospital, or anywhere else for that matter. Oh who am I kidding? I think about him all day long.

That very night when I get home, I decide to call him. After several attempts where I pick up the phone and partially dial before hanging up, I muster the courage to place the call. Just my luck, I get his voicemail.

"Um, hi. This is Sam. Um, you told me to call you, so um that's what I am doing. I am off work for through tomorrow, so if you have any time you can call me back. Ok. Bye."

My professionalism went right out the door. Instead of speaking like a bright young doctor, I leave a message that sounds like a five year old kid. Maybe I do need to date more because I am apparently very rusty.

Fifteen minutes later, my phone rings. It is him. My heart starts beating faster and my hands are shaking. Sounds like a song – my hands are shaking and my knees are weak. I can't seem to stand on my own two feet....

"Hello." I say casually trying to reign in my emotions.

"Hi Sam. I'm glad you called." he says and I sense sadness in his tone.

"Um, so what did you want to talk about?" I ask curiously.

"You know what. I am coming over now. See you soon." I hear him say before the sound of a dial tone rings in my ears. Well wasn't that a pleasant conversation.

I jump in the shower quickly to wash off the grim from the day and walk down stairs to the living room just as he knocks on the door. I pull the door open, lean against it, and gesture for him to come inside. He assumes a comfortable position on the couch and holds out his hand to me. I am not fond of the idea of sitting close to him, but I take his hand and sit on the couch next to him. I shift my body back though to create more space between our bodies.

"Sam, I am not going to hurt you." He says sullenly.

"I just think it is best that we have some space between us." I respond.

"Well, I already told you about what I am. And the role you play in relation to that. Let me give you some background.

Wolves are created when someone with the virus bites someone else. That other person is then infected with the disease. There is no cure. Anyone with the disease will change into a wolf at least once a month.

We touched on some of the other differences. Wolves heal fast, move fast and are extremely strong. We age much slower than the average human. Our body temperature runs higher than 98.6.

There are also some downfalls though. Our tempers have a shorter fuse and we are extremely possessive. We can easily hurt someone if we fail to control our beast within. Even the smallest amount of silver can kill us. 

Most of us live according to a hierarchical society and live in groups called packs. Each pack is governed by their Alpha. Anyone can challenge the Alpha at any time for his position. The loser usually dies, and the winner becomes the Alpha.

The strongest female is also considered an Alpha but her rank is still lower than the Alpha male. She will rule the other females and keep them in line. All disputes will be settled by her. The Alpha male has little to no input as to how the Alpha female handles her bitches. 

Most often the two alphas of a pack will mate. It is natural for them to be called together. This is not always the case as a wolf can go all their lives and never find their mate. And sometimes an alpha will mate with a lower ranked wolf. This tends to cause some discord within the pack because the mating automatically elevates the lower wolf's ranking. Other wolves can challenge for position but it is frowned upon."

He pauses and looks at me. His big eyes and lovely long lashes are almost innocent looking. They are begging me to accept his true nature which I have yet to comprehend. His expression is blank but yet there seems to be a wanting for me to trust him.

"Are you okay? Am I going too fast?" he asks me finally.

"I'll be honest with you, this all seems like crap to me. You seem to believe what you are telling me, but there is just no scientific evidence for what you are saying. It is quite possible there is some other much more rational explanation." I say trying not to regret being honest with him.

The Colonel's body tenses and his expression looks so forlorn. He begins to stand and I do nothing to stop him. I just sit there on the couch and watch him, not knowing what to do. 

"Yes, I could see how you would think that way. I am sorry to have disturbed you. I do ask that no matter what you believe, if you would please keep this information to yourself. You will never have to see me again, but please don't talk about this topic with anyone else. Ever." 

I am shell shocked. I say nothing. I don't move. I just watch this beautiful yet distraught man walk out of my home. And out of my life.



A New Assignment Pt. 06



Chapter 7

Being alone on the holidays is still hard to get used to. I have no living family and no close friends. Usually, my goal is to work as many shifts as possible so that I am too exhausted to think about missing my loved ones and realizing how very alone I am in this world. This year was no different.

The hospital was all decorated complete with a tree in the lobby. Someone had created a stocking for each one of us. They were green or red and had our names written on them in silver glitter. They were strung across a wall just above a fake mantel and fireplace. It was really quite cute and more than any of the other places I have worked at ever did.

Christmas Eve and the following day were both quiet. I made rounds and spent time with a few of the friendlier patients. When the silence and boredom finally got to me, I decided to call some friends and wish them a happy holiday. I know it was lame but it was better than sitting at the desk in the center of an empty ER.

Flipping through my contact list, the first person I consider calling is Angie. Since moving here I lost track of time and had not followed up with her to thank her for this opportunity. Plus, hearing her voice always cheered me up and believe me, I needed it.

"Hey girl!" Angie yelled into the phone after just one ring.

"Hey yourself. Merry Christmas!" I said using the happiest tone I could muster.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Do you not like the job?"

"No. No. The job is great. I really wanted to thank you for thinking of me and getting this all set up. I just get lonely around the holidays. That's all. How are things with you?"

"Oh busy. You know the drill. My contact did tell me that you have made quite an impression there. They are very pleased with your work and dedication. I knew you'd be perfect for the job." Angie gushed.

"Thanks again. Yeah, it's been real interesting. It takes some time to get used to seeing so many muscular men and tough as nails women. Most of them want me to stitch them up without any anesthetic. It's crazy. They don't even flinch." 

Angie laughed as I rambled on like a kid on the first day of school. I told her about some of the trauma I had seen and some of the psych cases that had been presented. The whole discussion was all about the hospital. I never once mentioned the Colonel or anything outside of work. When I figured I had probably bored Angie to death, I ended the call with the promise that we would talk again soon.

After our call I sit and try to clear my mind. The only thing I can think about it the feel of the Colonel's lips against mine or the sound of his deep sexy voice. I grin to myself that I even miss him man-handling...but just a little. 

I still don't know what to do about him. How can I date someone who is possibly in need of a psychiatric evaluation. Part of me wants to flee and part of me really wants him to prove me wrong. 

Before I can talk myself out of it, I dial his number and press the call button on my phone. My heart beat picks up immediately and my hands are starting to sweat. You would think I was a teen calling a boy for the first time.

"Sam?" He sounds both surprised and hopeful

"Hi. Merry Christmas." I try to sound calm and collected and even casual but of course my voice gives away my nervousness by cracking slightly.

"Merry Christmas Love." His voice sounds so silky and steady.

I wait for him to say more, but there is only silence. Well this is awkward I think.

"Um, well I don't want to bother whatever you're doing, just wanted to um wish you a Merry Christmas. So um Merry Christmas." Damn my nerves making me sound like a bumbling idiot.

"You already said that Sam." He chuckles on the other end of the phone and I can picture his face and sparkling eyes. 

"I miss you." I rush out quietly hoping that he might not have heard me. That was not supposed to be said out loud.

"You do?" He asks. His voice is neutral not giving away any emotion. I have no idea if I have blown my window of opportunity.

"Look Sam, I told you I would be here when you are ready. I don't want to push you, but honey when you tell me you miss me, I want to rush over there and kiss your sweet lips." 

I gasp surprised by his honesty. My mind is racing with conflicting thoughts about how to proceed.

"Sam, why don't we try dating and see how it goes?" He offers slowly after several minutes of awkward silence.

"Ok." I whisper still unsure if I can do this. "I have to go. I guess I will talk to you later. Bye Taylor."

"Bye Sam. And thanks for calling." He replies quietly.

The next few days I see him a few times at the hospital in passing. He always seems to be around but not exactly near me where it would be polite to talk or even say hi. We have a few casual conversations on the phone and each call feels less and less awkward.

I spend New Years alone and surprisingly not working. I even tried to trade shifts with someone so I could work, but no one took me up on my offer. Wearing comfortable silk pajamas, I veg in front of the tv surrounded by my favorite junk food. I watch one movie after another and eat myself into a sugar coma.

My phone rings the day after New Years, Monday afternoon, while I was enjoying the silence of a break during my shift at the hospital. The caller id tells me it is the Colonel. He invites me out for a date for Thursday. He must be reading some dating book that tells him that three days notice is the minimum required lead time. Instead of giving him a hard time, I reward his attempt at dating manners and accept. 

An hour before the Colonel is due to arrive I'm still throwing clothes all over my room trying to find the perfect outfit. I am nervous and anxious which are not common emotions for me. The word "date" is not in my vocabulary. I have sworn off dating partially for this reason. It drives me crazy. I get too nervous and then I can't enjoy myself. 

The Colonel had told me that the attire is casual dining. What does that mean?! I am trying to find something attractive and maybe even a little flirty even though I have not decided how I feel about this whole wolf situation. 

Then there is the transportation. If he is picking me up, there is a 99.9% chance I will end up on the back of his motorcycle again. That is all I have ever seen him drive other than my Jeep. And there's a thought, he could drive my Jeep. So that again changes my idea of what I want to wear. My final decision is to wear a pleaded black skirt that is shorter than I would like with a black sweater and a silver fashion scarf. I finish off the look with black velvet flats and my hair in a simple up-do.

My door bell rings exactly on-time as I expected. I open the door and am speechless. The Colonel is wearing a black suit and a silver tie. How did he know what I was wearing? 

He smiles awkwardly and asks me "Did you probe to see what I was wearing?" My speechlessness disappears as I break into a laugh.

"No. I was actually wondering how you knew I was wearing black and silver."

He laughs then too. "It must be our bond strengthening. I told you that this was all new to me too. You look beautiful by the way, as always." 

He leans in and kisses my cheek softly. I want to ask him all kinds of questions about this bond he mentions but I decide to just go with it for now and enjoy the evening. I reach for my coat and we head out the door. Sitting in my driveway is a shiny black Jaguar and I don't mean the animal kind. I am grateful it is not the motorcycle but in awe of the expensive sedan. The Colonel opens my door and helps me in. The smell of the leather is permeating and I take some deep breathes to get my fill.

"Nice car." I say as he climbs in the driver's seat.

"Thanks. I have a few vehicles but I usually drive the Harley, as you know." 

His eyes stay straight ahead never leaving the road. I let my eyes wander around the car noticing all the details of the console and then I find myself staring right at the Colonel. He is perfection. I can't find one physical flaw and I am looking pretty hard. 

"So we are going tonight?" I ask trying to change my focus.

"We are going to my house." I am still very new to the area but I know we are heading away from the base.

He looks at me briefly and answers my silent reservation "My real home. The one I own. It is not on the base."

I have no reply. Every conversation we have leaves me questioning how much I really know about this man. I would have thought it was at least 50% before but now I am leaning toward 10%.

Pulling up a windy road, the Colonel stops the car at the dead end which is directly in front of one of the biggest houses I have ever seen. It looks like a castle or something from the movies. The front door is large and comes to a peak at the top. It is made of dark wood with a small peep door directly in the center. We walk inside and the floors are all stone as are the walls and stairs. I count at least 10 doors off the main foyer. Or does one call it a lobby? I swear this is as big as a resort. 

The Colonel takes my jacket and leads me through the maze of doors until we are in a room with a long wood dining table and several matching ornate chairs. There are two place settings at one end and candles. He pulls out my chair and I sit. He leaves the room momentarily and returns with two covered dishes. We dine on the best steak and sweet potato fries I have ever eaten in my life. 

After our meal, we retire to another room which includes a large central fireplace in front of a big picture window overlooking great scenery. The stars are bright in the clear sky. Everything is perfect. We enjoy some wine and talk about random things. I am pleasantly surprised by the enjoyable conversation. Taylor can be quite charming when he wants. He was relaxed and even smiled frequently. This is the type of man that I could easily fall in love with. He has a sense of humor and manners. 

Taylor tells me that he was raised in Portland, OR. His mom had been nine months pregnant and about to deliver when she was attacked by a wolf. Another wolf came upon them and killed the attacking wolf. The surviving wolf changed into his human form and tried to use the blood from the dead wolf to save the mother and child. The mother died but the child was saved and thus was a wolf from birth. 

That child was Taylor and the wolf that found and saved him, Riley, became the only father he ever knew. Riley is also the Alpha 1 or head wolf for all of the North America wolves. There are no other known cases like Taylor's and it makes him a stronger wolf than all others who are changed when bitten.

I want to avoid talking about any wolf topics, but since he brought it up, I ask him again to see his wolf. His reaction is the same as the first time I asked (he cringes).

"I can't make an informed decision until I see all the facts. Seeing your wolf is the missing piece." I explain.

"You really will not decide unless I give in." he mutters sadly.

"Please Taylor." I beg. "It is important to me that I see all of who you really are. Before I thought you were the biggest most beautiful jerk I have ever met. You frustrated me and gave me butterflies at the same time. Since I told you I needed time, you were patient. The you offer to court me. Tonight you romance me and we spend a lovely evening together. I NEED to see the whole package, not just what you want to show me. Does that make any sense?"

"I understand." He says solemnly. "The next full moon is in three days. Will you allow me to pass by your window as I leave to join the pack? That way when you are repulsed you will safe in your home."

I can feel his sadness and hurt. I don't like it. We are sitting next to each other on the couch and I reach over touching his hand. My first instinct is to send him comfort, but I want his true comfort not the false one I create. 

Instead I speak, "Don't be afraid. Have faith in your wolf. I realize you probably are not used to being vulnerable, but my goal is not to hurt you."

He looks into my eyes "I have not been vulnerable in hundreds of years. In fact I have not been in a relationship in about 200 years. I have not kissed anyone in that time. I have never had a relationship with a human. I have not kissed a human....ever." 

The extent of his vulnerability hits me like a two ton brick. Now I understand his hesitation, his caution. I try to ease his discomfort by turning his chin toward me and softly kiss him. I want to cry. His pain is my pain. 

In the moment, I blurt out "I have never kissed a wolf before either...if that makes you feel better." 

It was a poor attempt at humor, but he chuckles and draws me in his embrace. A shiver runs down my body and he mistakes it as me being cold. He pulls a soft blanket from the back of the couch to cover us and we sit there looking out into the world. In his arms I can feel his true comfort. We are both just enjoying the moment and not thinking about what lies ahead. 

I sense a jolt of electricity just a second before he jumps up and leaves the room. I stay on the couch under the blanket and try to feel what is happening. There is too much interference and I can get no mental reception. Suddenly, I feel the Colonel send me a mental message "There is trouble with a pack member. I have to take care of this. Lock the door after me and do not leave until I return. It shouldn't be long."

I run to the front door. It takes too much time trying to figure out the maze that finally gets me to my desired destination. The front door is closed and he is gone. There are pieces of materials that look like the clothes that the Colonel was wearing. I open the door and see the tail of a wolf just as it passes behind a bush and out of site. 

Before I can move, I hear several loud howls. I slam the door quickly and lock it. I race back into the window room and cover myself with the blanket. I want to cry but the tears won't come. I am overwhelmed with anger. This has to be residual emotions from Taylor's wolf. I reach out with my senses to see what is available. I can sense Taylor's mind briefly before he yells at me and shuts me out completely. That was rude! I am half tempted to leave. Then I remember he drove me here and I am not exactly sure where "here" really is. 

An empty bottle of wine is sitting on the table in the window room. After I was left alone, I walked around the house. I found the kitchen and a second bottle of wine which I then preceded in finishing alone. Next I headed upstairs. It took me awhile but I eventually found the master bedroom. It was bigger than my whole house. I showered and changed into one of Taylor's pressed dress shirts. It was almost longer than my skirt was but it smelled like him. I curled up in his bed and sleep.

Sunlight shining on my face woke me with a groan. My head is killing me. I open my eyes and close them quickly.

"Are you still mad at me love?" Taylor says way too cheerfully. He is lying under the covers of the bed next to me. I can feel his warmth radiating.

"Yes!" I grunt, not even pointing out the fact that he asked a question which he never does.

"It was pack business. I had to go."

This wolf stuff is getting out of hand. He really believes in what he is telling me and I am even almost convinced. My brain just can't accept it without evidence. Whether it's true or not doesn't matter to my hurting head. I acted like a child and today I would pay the price with a mega hangover. Still, I wasn't ready to admit my defeat.

"I drank your wine." I whimper.

"Yes, I see that. I assume it was enjoyable." His tone now sounds arrogant like he was glad I am hung over and being punished for my behavior. "I do approve of your sleepwear though." He adds with further spite.

I open my eyes again and glare at him. He touches my cheek and smiles at me.

"You are beautiful in the morning. I do greatly enjoy seeing you in my bed, especially first thing to start my day." 

"I hate you." I grunt.

He laughs. "Do not."

"Do!"

"Do not."

He waits for my reply, but my head hurts too much to continue this banter. He asks another question, "Are you mad at me for rushing out on our date or because you missed seeing my wolf?"

Again I do not respond. He traces my lips with his finger and then moves along my jaw line, down my neck, and across my shoulder. It tickles ever so little and I feel a tingle down the path his finger traveled. I want to be mad at him. I want to hate him and leave and not have to deal with any of this wolf crap. At the same time, I want him to kiss me, to devour me. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him in this bed. How can both emotions exist at the same time?

"Fine!" I shout, hurting my head. "You're sexy as hell and I am pissed that you left me here for hours alone. But I am more mad that you yelled at me and shut me out of your head. And I'm mad that I have a hangover today. Are you happy?"

"Actually I am very happy....words that rarely cross my lips." He rolls over (so he is very close) and kisses me. 

I wrap my bare leg around his hip. He is wearing only a pair of boxer-briefs and it turns me on. He moves his hand up the shirt that I borrowed last night and gently caresses my skin. I can feel his excitement as I let out a soft moan. We kiss more passionately. 

"STOP!" he growls without warning. He rolls over on his back and is breathing fast. I have to catch my breath as well as I release my hold and look at him, wondering what is wrong. His eyes are closed. His hand is rubbing his head.

"Are you ok?" I ask cautiously.

"Oh, I am more than ok. We need to stop. I need to regain control." 

"Let me see your eyes Taylor." I whisper.

"No!" he replies in anger.

"Taylor! Let me see your eyes." I repeat firmly as I roll on my side and prop my head on my hand.

He gives in to my request and opens his eyes, but refuses to look at me. I lean over so I can see them. His vibrant emerald green eyes have been replaced with golden topaz suns. It is quite beautiful. I feel no shock, no repulsion.

"You are perfection." I say gently in his ear. He looks at me quizzically. "Your eyes do not scare me." I reassure him. "I have no desire to jump and run out of here screaming my head off." I joke.

A few moments later he rolls back to face me. His emeralds have returned and his breathing is back to normal. He brushes a few stray hairs behind my ear. I want to pick up where we left off, but restrain myself. 

"You are incredible." He smiles. "You are so brave to be willing to learn about my reality." 

As if on cue, his phone rings. He reaches for his bedside table and pulls the phone up to his ear. 

"Yes."

"Ok."

"Yes."

"I understand." He clicks the phone off and starts to rise out of bed.

"Time to go?" I ask. I try to hide my disappointment, but we both know that we have lives outside of this fantasy world and it is time to be getting back.

"Yes, love."

I sit up still clutching the sheet and blanket I slept under. 

"You can take a shower in the master bath. Your clothes are clean and hung in there for you." He directs.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"I have a shower in the master closet, or at least my master closet. The other master closet, over there (he points across the room), is empty waiting for my mate to arrive." He purrs and heads toward his closet.

We are both showered and dressed ready to leave within thirty minutes. The Colonel is dressed in his full official military uniform complete with countless merits on his left shoulder. His shoes are shined to where I can see my reflection. I am afraid to touch anything for fear of wrinkling him. He leans and kisses my cheek. I take his outstretched arm as he leads me downstairs and out the door. 

He drives me home in a military issued humvee. I would love to get my hands on it and drive through some rough terrain. I can already imagine the mud and muck splashing around. That would be a fun time!




A New Assignment Pt. 06



"I have quite a few tasks I need to complete. I won't be able to see you again before the full moon." he pauses "Are you SURE you want to see my wolf in two days?"

"Yes." I say without hesitation.

"I believe you are not working that night." He replies, obviously not liking my answer. "I will run through your backyard around twenty hundred hours. You can watch me from your bedroom window." He gets back in the humvee and begins backing out of my driveway.

"Wait!" I yell. The humvee stops and he rows down the window. I rush the door and lean in to plant a big kiss on him.

"I want to see the wolf up close. I want to touch it, feel its fur." He cringes. "You said I would be safe, that the wolf will not hurt me.....Right?" 

"You will be safe." 

"Then I will meet the wolf on my back patio around 8PM." I command and back away from the vehicle. 

Two can play this command game. He rolls up the window and backs out without another word. 

The next two days drag on at a snail's pace. I try to immerse myself in work at the hospital. I even catch up on all the paperwork I hate doing and usually postpone until the last minute. My locker in the staff lounge gets organized. The storage closet even gets a once over in order to stay busy.

As each hour ticks by painfully slow, I get more and more nervous. What if I get freaked out? What am I going to do after I see the wolf? I have to give him my decision. I go from having no relationships for years to needing to decide my eternal future. My feeling for him could change. If I decline the mate invitation, I wonder if it is reversible later. The Colonel said it was very shameful for him if I decline but our situation is completely unique. I am a human. The mating magic is supposed to occur between two wolves. I tend to think the decision would be easier for wolves. Why am I even considering mating when part of me doesn't believe thre is a wolf.



A New Assignment Pt. 07



I am barely able to contain myself the day of the full moon. An hour before our meeting time, I am pacing back and forth at the patio door feeling like a caged animal myself. 

Finally the time is here. My clock says eight o'clock on the dot. I step outside and walk to the edge of the concrete and step into the grass. I hear some rustling in the bushes directly behind my house. Gradually I see a wolf poking its head through. My heart is pounding in my chest. I am not nervous or scared, but excited, even giddy. It's not every day that I meet a wolf and know there is man inside it.

He approaches slowly giving me every chance to run. He is beautiful and larger than I expected. His coat is thick and long. The fur is very light colored, almost like white chocolate and almonds. His eyes are golden, but not the same as I saw the other day. These are more burnt golden.

The wolf stops about halfway across the yard and still a good twenty feet from where I am standing. We look at each other both trying to gauge the other's expression. I want to probe his mind but the fear of having him shut me out again prevents me. It was the only time I have really felt vulnerable with the Colonel and I am not eager to go there again.

There is an electric feeling in the air. I am too preoccupied with the wolf to notice that the energy does not have the same familiarity as before. The difference suddenly zaps me back and I become aware that something has changed. The wolf's eyes now look strange to me. I probe lightly and do not feel any emotion emanating from the creature. 

I start to fear the wolf. My fear of the wolf is greater than my fear of being shut out, so I probe deeper. I need to know what Taylor is experiencing. Focused on extending my energies for the probe, I begin to see an image of another wolf. This one is slightly larger and has much darker features. There is an obvious hatred between the two wolves. I keep delving deeper trying to find a trace of something familiar. The only thing I keep seeing is the same image. The two wolves are staring at each other with gums rolled. My wolf lets out a growl. I realize that the growl is external and not within my probe. 

My connection with the wolf breaks. I now notice that the image of the wolf that I kept seeing was actually a second wolf. This one is standing less than five feet in front of me. I try to stay calm, but let out a high pitched girly scream none the less. Crap, crap, crap. What is going on?

The wolf closest to me has its back to me and is facing the original wolf. I feel like the new wolf is protecting me. It never once turns to look at me. I am too shocked to move and notice that I am holding my breath. Both wolves growl again. Their ears are laid back and their tails are extended. It is definitely a fighting stance. 

Each takes a step closer to the other. Two more wolves come through the thick brush. All three wolves are focused on the single wolf. Is that MY wolf, the one defending me? It has to be. 

A quick cursory probe tells me what I needed to know. The lone wolf is Taylor. He is going to fight these other three wolves. I have never seen wolves and I don't know their dynamics, but three against one are not good odds. I have to do something. 

While the wolves are sizing each other up, I sneak back inside my house. At least with me inside, Taylor's wolf has one less worry. It could easily leave and maybe out run the others. I would rather he live to fight another day. Knowing the Colonel though, he will fight. He has been trained by the United States Marines to fight and to never back down. 

I am rushing around trying to figure out what to do. I have nothing that is a weapon against a wolf. My gun will do little damage without silver bullets. My strength and speed do not compare. I focus on how I could use my internal abilities to best help the Co. I don't want to impact his wolf's mood or focus. I wonder if I can turn bring my powers inward and use it myself.

Something above my couch catches my eye. I completely forgot that I have a Chinese sword. It is really one of the few decorative items that I travel with and it cost a fortune. I take the sword out of its wood holder and inspect it closely. It is sharp and has a solid weight. I think it would work as a weapon. Maybe I could distract one wolf and try to narrow the odds. Not sure what to do once I have the attention of a wolf, but there is no time to analyze. I must act quickly.

The sword unsheathed is about three feet long. The handle is large enough for me to grasp with both my hands. That will give my swing more power, but will impact my speed. I take several test swings to familiarize myself with the weapon and head back outside.

During my absence, the two larger wolves have gotten very close to each other. They are nearly nose to nose and apparently have a lot to say because they are growling fiercely. The other two wolves seem to be more spectators and are not engaging in any way. 

Eeney, meeney, minee, moe... I pick the wolf on the right and try to sneak up as close as I can without being noticed. The wolf is either so focused on the pending fight, or I am down wind, but I get within two feet of it. I draw the sword up with the goal of slicing through the back of the wolf's neck. The wolf notices me just before I can swing. It turns and shots toward me. I pull the sword back quickly, but lose my balance and fall back. As I land on my back, I hold the sword out and the wolf lunges toward me. Then, as if in slow motion, the wolf is motionless. We are eye to eye. I feel something hot trickling down my hand. I glance down and see blood everywhere. My eyes follow the blade of my sword to find it buried in the wolf. 

I hear loud sounds and turn my head to see that the two large wolves are now deep in combat, biting and snarling and thrashing about. The second spectator wolf must smell the blood, because it lets out a howl and rushes toward us. There is no time for me to react. I drop the sword, wrap myself into a ball, close my eyes and focus on protecting myself. I imagine being safe and strong rather than weak and about to be mauled by a vicious predator. I want the wolf to know my fear as its own rather than it being mine. This wolf needs to be terrified and helpless just like I am feeling. My energy is fading. I can no longer focus or open my eyes. I drift off into nothingness.

It's not a bad way to die. No pain, no drawn out disease. I only wish I could have told Taylor that I loved him, wolf and all. I would have accepted his wolf. I would have become his mate. Now he'll never know. I tried to be strong. I should have stayed in the house. Maybe his wolf was killed two. The odds were better once one wolf was eliminated from the equation but was my efforts enough. What comes next? 

"Love, can you hear me?"

I can even hear that sweet deep sound of his voice. I miss him already. 

"Samantha. Open your eyes. I'm here sweetheart. You are safe."

This afterlife stuff might not be too bad. I always wondered what happened after death. It's almost as if I can feel Taylor holding my hand, kissing my fingers. His soft lips. His large callused hands carefully holding mine much smaller hands. So gentle.

"Please. Please open your eyes."

I can hear him begging. Is he begging for death? Has the other wolf injured him enough so that he wants to die? Or is it my death that is making him sad. He sounds so sad, I feel like crying. My face even feels wet. Do tears exist in this afterlife? I wonder what form my body will take. I am going to take a peek.

"Sam?!"

I open my eyes slowly trying to figure out where I am. There are bright lights around me, which I have heard some say they see when they have returned after having coded as pronounced dead. after they die. My eyes open fully. I see Taylor leaning over me with worry on his face. He is bloody and dirty and saying something. What is he trying to tell me?

"Oh God, Sam. You're ok. I'm here. Everything is going to be ok." I hear Taylor's words but can't comprehend.

Then I see Paul's face. What is Dr Morgan doing in my afterlife? I don't want to see him. 

"Dr Sloan? Can you hear me? It's Dr Morgan. You are in your bed at your house. You had us all quite worried."

"What?" I say. That surprises me because I was thinking the word but I heard my voice say it out loud. "Am I dead?" I ask.

"No sweetheart. I wouldn't let you die." Taylor painfully chuckles. "You are alive and mostly well, my brave little one."

I hear the two men talking back and forth but am trying too hard to figure out what happened. Taylor wouldn't lie to me. I have to be alive. How did I get in my room? Why did the wolf not kill me?

I move my fingers and toes. I can feel them. I take mental inventory of my other parts. Legs, check. Arms, check. Head, check. Eyes, check. Everything feels ok. I must be sedated. That is why I am groggy and not in pain.

Taylor's face is looking down on me again. I smile. I love his beautiful face. He smiles in return and I feel all warm inside. 

"Wh...what happened?" I ask.

"You saw my wolf." Taylor smirks. I roll my eyes. Now he decides to be funny.

"You killed a wolf." Taylor explains.

"With the sword?" I ask and he nods. "Then what?"

"It's a long story. We can talk about it later when your strength has returned. You need to rest. I promised Dr Morgan I would let you sleep." He leaned and kissed my forehead and began to rise off the bed where he was sitting.

"Wait!" I said quickly. My throat hurt and I realized I was tired. Taylor stopped and took my hand again in his. "I love you. I accept your wolf and I will be honored to be your mate." I croaked. 

The pain increased with each word that passed my lips but I wanted to tell him in case something happened. I wanted him to know. He had to know.

"Ok sweetheart. Now rest." He said in the most soothing sweet voice I have ever heard.

I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, Taylor was sitting on the bed next to me. He was reading. It caught me off guard. He didn't see the reading type.

"Hi." I said quietly.

"Hi love. How are you feeling? You've been out quite a while. Can I get you something?" Taylor asked leaning over and feeling my forehead. I didn't think I had a fever, but maybe I did.

"I think I feel ok. What time is it?" I asked. 

If the wolves showed up around 8PM then I figured it had to be around midnight. That was probably why I was so tired. But it is a full moon tonight, so Taylor needed to be out hunting with his pack.

"It's about 1AM." Taylor replied. "You have slept for two full days. One of the nurses watched you that first night as my wolf was too enraged to be here."

"What?" I asked trying to sit up. That wasn't going to work. I got dizzy and immediately feel back into my pillow. 

"Easy there warrior, you are under strict orders not to leave this bed for any reason. If you have to go to the bathroom or need anything, then I will carry you there." 

Ah, the Colonel has returned and is ordering me around like a marine. 

I kind of pushed myself up inch by inch until I was sitting against the headboard. I still felt really weak. It was probably just lack of food. Taylor handed me a bottle of red Gatorade. It burned as it went down my throat. My hand went up to investigate the source of the pain. Everything felt normal from the outside.

"Can you tell me now what happened?" I ask, almost pleading. The waiting was killing me.

"My wolf was fighting the other wolf. It was Lucas." Taylor looks to check my expression, of which there is none. "You somehow managed to kill a wolf, which is still unbelievable because I don't know how you did it. You are so tiny and the wolf was a decent size. Anyhow, I am not sure what happened after you killed Rocky's wolf, but the next thing I hear is the other wolf howling in pain. My focus was on Lucas so once that threat was annihilated, I was able to get to you. You were curled up into a ball and the other wolf was curled up into a ball almost right next to you. The wolf was crying and writhing as if he was in pain. 

There was no sign of damage to the wolf. There was no blood, no broken bones, nothing. My wolf ripped his throat out and put him out of his misery. When I turned back, you had passed out. I was able to force a change back into my human form. I carried you inside and searched thoroughly for damage. You were not injured although you were covered in blood. I didn't know what to do to help you. I called the hospital and Dr Morgan came over here. I guess he lives down the street? 

Hm. You could have told me your secret admirer lived so close." 

Taylor raised his eyebrows as he said that last part. I guess he was a tad jealous. I thought it was cute. 

"Dr Morgan said that you would be fine. All your vitals were ok. We just had to wait it out until you woke up. What did you do to that wolf that took all your energy?"

I thought about his question for a moment. Did I actually inflict pain on the wolf as I had visualized? 

"I am not sure what I did. I saw it coming toward me and I was stuck under the other wolf. I knew I would not be able to defend against it, so I focused on being safe. I was hoping that the wolf would feel the pain that I was feeling as it was hurling toward me. I guess I was able to turn my pain on it. I am really not sure. Do you think the wolf was in pain because of my abilities?"

"Yes. I think you did something to it." Taylor said sounding sad. "I am so sorry that your life was endangered because of me. I had been hunting LaC since you meet them. The phone calls I have been getting and the time I have been spending away from you has all been in an effort to find and eliminate them. They are the cause of the accident a few weeks back, the one that killed Evelyn. I knew it then and I vowed that they would not hurt anyone else. They would not make you cry again."

I digested what he said. The night that he left me alone at his house was to hunt Lucas. The phone calls that he got and had to leave were because of Lucas. Evelyn. She died because of Lucas. 

"What aren't you telling me Taylor?" I asked. Something felt wrong. I was not fully back to normal, but I could feel sadness coming from him.

"I know that you love me Samantha. I knew it before you told me. I feel it. I was surprised that you would accept my wolf even after what happened." He paused and took a deep breath. "I have been thinking about you every moment since I first saw you. You are the love of my life. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. And I do love you. I have never spoken the words, but I believe you can feel my love." I nodded in response. "I want more than anything to share the rest of my life with you with you as my mate." I smiled. "But, I cannot." 

My face froze. My heart skipped a beat. What is he saying?

"I cannot endanger your life again. I thought I could protect you. I know now that I can never protect you one hundred percent of the time. You are human and fragile. My wolf and I need to stay as far away from you as possible." He bowed his head and would not make eye contact with me. "My wolf releases you."