Sparkling Blue

Chapter Two.

Margaret looked around the hotel lobby for Charles' tall frame. They'd agreed in the morning, before going to their respective lectures and demonstrations, to meet here for the conference's opening reception. The sea of green uniforms milling through the lobby made it difficult to spot any particular person, but she was sure he'd stick out. And she was right.

"Charles!" she called, waving, standing on tip-toes.

He turned at his name and began excusing his way through the throng to Margaret.

They silently greeted one another and began to move to the entrance of the grand ballroom. He put his hand on her back so they would not lose one another in the crowd.

"I hope we can get somewhere to sit, Charles!" she said in a loud voice, hoping he'd hear her over the laughing and chattering crowd.

He smiled down at her, "I've made sure we would, Margaret."

The security guard at the door spied them and smiled. "Ah, Dr. Winchester, the hotel manager said you would be here tonight. We have your table ready for you and your lady."

The guard motioned for one of the waitstaff to seat the two Majors.

Margaret blushed when she was refered to as Charles' "lady."

"'Your lady,' Charles?"

He shrugged, not commenting, as they followed the young man to a table that accorded them a good view of the dance floor, and whomever may be speaking that night.

"Here you are, sir, ma'am," the waiter said politely. "I'll have the wine list for you in just one moment."

Charles ordered a light, delicate champagne for them both along with a tray of delectible snacks on which to nibble until the actual dinners were served.

"This is marvelous, Charles, thank you," Margaret said, taking another sip of the excellent champagne.

"I thought as long as we're here learning all we have to learn during the daytime, we may as well indulge at night. We are in Tokyo, after all, no sense not taking advantage of that."

Her eyes sparkled at him over the rim of her glass and she nodded in agreement.

The two spent the early portion of the evening discussing what they'd learned that day. Being a medical conference, they were confident such talk would not distress those around them. Others, also doctors and nurses, were doing the same thing.

Their dinners had been served, enjoyed and the dishes cleared away. The small orchestra began warming up in the pit.

From what Charles could discern from the warming- and tuning-up, there would be a wide variety of pieces played tonight. Good. Gave everyone a chance to enjoy some time on the dance floor!

Neither of them cared too much for the first few songs and pieces played, so they continued to chat comfortably. They had fun watching the crowd and the dancers on the floor, commenting every so often on what they saw.

A new tune began and the couples on the floor switched, some leaving, some arriving. Charles was telling Margaret about a new surgical technique he'd seen demonstrated that day, when he saw her eyes open wide and she gasped.

He looked to where she was staring.

"Margaret, what is it?"

She whispered loudly, "It's DONALD, that's what it is! Look! Over there, dancing with some floozy on his arm!" She scowled as she watched her ex-husband lead this woman around the floor. "What the hell is he doing at a MEDICAL conference!"

Charles leaned toward her ear and said, "He probably heard there would be free drinks!"

She couldn't help herself, and laughed out loud. That laugh attracted Donald's attention, and he looked right at her. She glared back, then stood abruptly.

"C'mon, Charles, let's dance!" she said, grabbing him roughly by the arm. He barely had time to set his champagne glass down and stagger behind her onto the floor.

As he took her to him, she moved in right up against him, laughing and smiling up into his face.

Still grinning, she carefully said, "Just play along, PLEASE, Charles! I can't let him think I'm here ALONE after all!"

He smiled back, pulling her dramatically closer. He certainly had no problem letting people think this lovely lady was his, after all.

She lay her head against his chest and said, "Lead us closer to Donald, I want to see that creature he's dancing with!"

"Certainly, Margaret," and he complied with her wish.

Charles was watching Penobscott without being obvious. He'd swing Margaret within feet of the other couple, then swing her away. Each time they got close, he could tell Penobscott wanted to say something to her, but Charles never kept Margaret and himself nearby long enough.

The two remained on the floor when the next piece started, something Charles actually enjoyed. This was proving to be a fun and most interesting evening, watching Margaret and Donald play their wordless games with one another.

Charles was really dancing with Margaret now, not merely teasing and cajoling Penobscott. The two lost themselves in the wonder of the song, gazing into each other's sparkling blue eyes and smiling. The reverie and magic were broken abruptly as Charles felt a rough tap on his shoulder.

Penobscott was standing there.

"Mind if I cut in?" he asked, as tradition dictates, automatically assuming Charles would allow him to dance with Margaret.

Charles paused a moment, pondering the question. He finally said, "As a matter of fact, I would." He continued leading Margaret away, as if Penobscott had not stopped them.

This time, it wasn't just a tap, but a hand on his shoulder, stopping the two.

"I insist," Penobscott said, frowning so his almost-singular brow crowded his forehead.

"Hmmmm... No."

Winchester and Houlihan were off again. Margaret was grinning ear-to-ear, enjoying what Charles was doing to mess with Donald.

The hand gripped Charles' shoulder again, this time noticeably harder.

"Do you know who I am?" Penobscott demanded.

Charles made a show of leaning forward to read the other man's name tape on his uniform, then looked up at the man's rank insignia.

"Lt. Colonel Penobscott?"

"Yes!" as if that should explain everything.

'Your parents must be very proud!" Charles said, once again moving away with Margaret in his arms. A few of the couples nearby had seen and heard the exchange and chuckled. Most did not know who this man was that was haranguing the dancing couple, and noticed he wore no Medical Corps insignia.

Penobscott stopped them in no uncertain terms, almost swinging Charles around to face him. Charles simply stood tall, nose in the air, maintaining the most haughty of airs.

"Excuse me?" Charles asked in a cold voice.

"Do you know WHAT I am?" Penobscott again demanded, his brown eyes sparking with anger.

Charles thought a moment. "One of a cadre of sycophants using whatever parochial influence they can to get an easy posting in the jewel of the Orient?"

"RIGHT!" Penobscott exclaimed, then when he heard the laughter around him, he frowned, wondering what he'd agreed to. The anger turned to confusion.

Margaret could no longer remain still, and said in a stage whisper, "Donald, walk away now while you have any semblence of dignity remaining."

Her cheek turned toward him, Charles took the opportunity and kissed her sweetly. Donald scowled once more as he saw his ex-wife lean into this man's kiss. He glared at her, then at the tall Major she was with, and decided the chuckling around them had been enough. He turned smartly on his heel and walked off.

As they stood on the dance floor, couples moving about them, they watched Donald stomp off to his "date." Margaret grabbed Charles' hand, ran by their table for her clutch, and pulled him to the lobby, now almost empty of people.

"Oh my God, Charles, I can't stand it," she said, looking around.

He smiled down at her, noting the twinkle in her eye once more. "Can't stand what?"

"I'm so close to losing it, and I didn't want to here and make a scene. YOU know how I can get when I'm laughing!"

He could tell she was about to burst. He laughed and took her hand, leading her to the elevator.

"Where are we going?" she asked, fighting to keep the belly-laugh threatening to burst out at bay.

"Let's go to my room for a nightcap, I've got some excellent amaretto waiting to be opened."

"YOUR room? Isn't the Army putting you up with a bunch of other doctors?" she asked as the elevator dinged its arrival.

He motioned her in and followed. He inserted a key into the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse suite.

"The PENTHOUSE, Charles?"

"Did you honestly think I would stay in a room with three other doctors for three days?"

She frowned, "Well, no, I guess YOU wouldn't! You upgraded to the penthouse though?"

"Certainly! We won't be merely going to lectures and sleeping for three days, will we? I wanted to take advantage of the luxuries of Tokyo while I could."

Oh, she mouthed silently. The ride to the top floor took some time, and she looked around, anywhere but at Charles. He'd startled her with his impromptu kiss on the cheek, and she subconsciously rubbed where his lips had touched her so sweetly.

He moved closer to her, towering over her as he did, and asked, "Do you still have that laugh waiting to come forth, Margaret?"

She laughed, nervously, "I'm...I'm over it, I think, Charles."

His sensitive finger brushed her cheek where she'd put her hand, where he'd kissed her moments ago. "Surely not, Margaret. I would not want to think I denied someone with a marvelous laugh as yourself the pleasure of releasing such joy."

The touch of his finger on her soft skin sent tingles down her neck and on to her arm. She moved a little closer to the corner, Charles extending his long arm to keep his finger on her. She was trapped. She could have flung his arm aside any time she wanted to, but for some reason could not bring herself to do so. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the light touch of his long finger.

The dinging of the elevator made her jump. The door slid open and Charles again motioned her forward, ahead of him.

Margaret looked around in wonder. "You've got this while the rest of us have to bunk up with others?"

He shrugged as if it was nothing. Which for him, it wasn't. He led her to the fine couch that overlooked the cityscape of Tokyo.

The lights were dim, as he'd not been there since daylight. He went around the room and lit the candles that were positioned throughout, the flickering light casting shadows across her.

"We should have stopped by my room so I could at least change out of my uniform!" she said, loosening the top buttons and kicking off her shoes. She collapsed back on the couch, utterly relaxed now that her feet were free to breathe.

"Would you like that amaretto now, Margaret?" he asked as he went to the fully-stocked bar.

"Yes, that would be lovely, Charles."

"This is an especial favorite of mine, Amaretto di Saronno." He handed her a small snifter of it, holding his own. He lifted his glass to her and took that first marvelous sip, allowing it to coat his mouth and tongue before it slid down his throat.

She'd done the same, ending it with an "Ahhhh!"

He sat down by her, perched on the edge of the couch so he could face her. A tiny sheen of amaretto remained on her lip, and without thought he leaned forward to kiss it off. His mouth first touched hers softly and delicately, unsure of how she would respond. He carefully opened his mouth, gently licking the amaretto off her upper lip.

Margaret stiffened when she sensed Charles moving so close, wondering when he'd stop, as he always did. They'd had close moments like this before, always so close but not quite. He didn't seem to be stopping, but continued until she felt his mouth on her, opening and gently probing her lip. She didn't want to stop the unexpected motion, so leaned back into the couch, eyes closed. It didn't take him long to get the residual amaretto, but he lingered there, not doing anything but allowing his lips to remain on her.

She carefully brought the little snifter to her mouth and took another sip, deliberately leaving a tiny bit on her. He lapped at the little drop with more energy, pressing his mouth against her. She opened her mouth to match his, and felt the tender touch of his tongue, tentative, almost shy. She put her free hand up behind him, on his neck, to pull him closer, showing him there was no need for shyness.

What are we DOING? something in her mind screamed. The rest of her told her mind to shut up, they were having too much fun.

All the waiting and wondering about when she'd be free, all the loneliness flew out the window as she roughly pulled Charles down ever closer. He was almost on her, so leaned a bit to her right, gaining better access to her mouth as he slipped his arm around her.

The first gentle kiss soon blossomed into deep and passionate. Margaret pulled away for a moment to set her snifter on the table, and turned to face him, as he'd done moments before.

He reached up to the top of her uniform blouse, softly running his fingers along the edge where she'd loosened it. The brief touches on her throat, at the sensitive spot where it met chest, were driving her insane. She simply looked at him, the candlelight illuminating tiny globes in his brilliant blue eyes.

Margaret took his hand and guided it into the top of her blouse, pushing it against her warm flesh.

"Charles," she whispered.

"Yes, Margaret?"

"What are we doing?"

"Enjoying one another's company in this lovely suite."

"Is that all?"

"It's all for now, yes," he said smiling up at her.

She smiled as she leaned toward him, kissing his sweet inviting mouth.

"That's good enough for me," she agreed, glad they had this understanding before they went much further. And she planned on going MUCH much further tonight!