Small Miracles

Small Miracles 2.


Dill sat on her bed. Now that she was actually there, she wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing. The journey had been easier than she thought it would be, on her own with three small children. The military high ups had smoothed the way for her, and the boys had been terribly excited. Only Izzy had been badly affected, convinced somehow that she was going to see her daddy. Dill wasn’t exactly sure where that idea had come from. She’d been careful not to imply any such thing.

The children were fed and asleep, and now she was stuck with nothing to do. Sighing, she pulled out a word pad and began to plan out the next six months. Play sessions for military invitros... piece of cake, she told herself. You can do this in your sleep, what are you worried about? And a tiny voice answered her. Ty. He won’t like it... he won’t like it at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

McQueen lay in his bed wondering what he was going to tell Dill. The hamster had, it seemed, amazing skills at escapology, and no matter what he did, he would regularly arrive back in his quarters to find the damn thing's cage empty. He’d given up worrying about it after the fourth time. It always seemed to stay in his room, and eventually when it got hungry enough, would present itself to him, usually at some inappropriate moment or in some inappropriate manner. He was still thankful that he’d not had to go to sickbay to have sunflower seeds removed from his ear after he’d woken to find it trying to stash food there one night. Damn thing's lucky to still be alive, he thought, the amount of times he’d almost trodden on it, or rolled over in his sleep to find it peering at him from his pillow. This time though it had been AWOL for well over a week, and there’d been no sign that it had been back to its cage for food.

Of course he hadn’t been around much to search for it. The ‘Toga had, as usual, been in the thick of things, sustaining severe damage in the process. Four landing bays were inoperable, two laser cannons needed replacing, and there’d been hull breaches in several places including the bridge. One hundred and fifty people had lost their lives on the ship alone. Twelve hammerhead pilots had died, and McQueen himself had only just managed to get commodore Ross off the bridge before it completely depressurised.

They had lost gravity ship wide for over an hour, and life support had been hit hard. They’d had to cut back on heating to ensure they had enough power to keep pumping oxygen, which was why he was lying in his bed fully clothed, with an old baggy sweatshirt over the top of his flight suit and two extra pairs of socks on. The crew had been confined to quarters whilst not actually on duty in the hopes that it might conserve oxygen if people weren’t moving around too much.

With Stirrup having been gone so long, McQueen was sure that the combination of gravity loss and cold had probably killed it. He just hoped he found it before it began to stink the place out. Rolling onto his back, he shivered. Damn, but it was cold. He knew he had a spare blanket somewhere and got up to find it. Ty smiled. Dill called him her own personal hot water bottle, but he’d give anything for one of her nice cosy duvets right about now. He rummaged under the bed, sure that the spare blanket was in his footlocker. What he found wasn’t a spare blanket, but a small, cold, furry body. He held the hamster in his hands, examining it for signs of life.

It felt stone cold, and there was no sign of it breathing. Its eyes were closed and the familiar twitch of its whiskers was missing. McQueen sat on the bed, suddenly feeling inexplicably sad. He was going to miss the rotten little thing, he thought. No more waking up to hear it scrabbling about in it’s cage or running endlessly in it’s little wheel. No bright little eyes peering at him as he told it how he felt. No being woken by whiskers twitching on his face or food being forced in his ears or nostrils.

McQueen sat for a while thinking about how he’d come to like the annoying little fur ball... how much he’d enjoyed talking to it... the way it would lie in his hand and wait for him to stroke it, its eyes peering up at him as if to say ‘well come on, what are you waiting for?’

What did you do with a dead hamster? McQueen wondered how you disposed of it. Have to stick it in an old sock and put it in the zero-g waste disposal, he concluded. He found a pair of socks that were ready to be thrown away and wrapped the hamster tightly. Taking off the sweatshirt, he pulled on his boots and headed to the nearest disposal unit. He was about to throw it in when he heard someone come up behind him. He turned, hiding his sock behind his back, ready to yell at whoever it was about breaking regulations, when he realised that’s exactly what he was doing.

It turned out to be Hawkes, on his way to the 58th's quarters after being released from sickbay. He’d banged his head while out patrolling and had only now been cleared to leave, the doctors deciding he showed no signs of concussion.

“Hawkes! Why aren’t you in your quarters?” McQueen demanded.

“They just let me outta sickbay, sir,” Cooper replied.

“Well, get to your quarters right away!” McQueen growled, turning and heading for his own.

Just then they suddenly lost gravity. It returned seconds later, causing them both to tumble to the floor, and McQueen to lose hold of the sock as he grabbed for something to keep his balance. Hawkes picked it up, a puzzled look on his face as he felt it soft and squidgey. Almost before he realised what he was doing, his curiosity overcame him and he was pulling the sock to see what was inside. His face became a picture of horror.

“You were going to put this in the zero –gee?” he asked.

“It’s dead, Hawkes. It won’t mind,” McQueen told him.

“What is it? Is this what was in that box? The present from your kids?”

McQueen had the grace to blush as he nodded.

“And now it’s dead? You killed it?” Hawkes voice was filled with disgust. “You killed the animal your kids gave you?”

“I didn’t kill it, Hawkes!” McQueen growled. “It escaped from its cage. The cold and lack of gravity killed it.”

“But you’re shoving it out the zero-gee!” Hawkes cried. “I mean, it’s your family. You should have a proper funeral and stuff.”

“It’s a hamster, Hawkes. You don’t have a funeral for a damn hamster!” McQueen snapped at him.

“I’m gonna ask ‘Phousse. She always knows.” Hawkes turned and headed off, the hamster still in his hands.

“Hawkes!” McQueen called after him.

Cooper stopped and turned. “Sir?”

“My hamster.” McQueen held out his hand.

Hawkes shook his head. “Oh no, sir. And have you just put it in the trash?“ He turned and hurried away.

“Hawkes!” McQueen yelled again. Damn him, he thought. He’s such a blabber mouth, it’ll be all over the ship in no time! McQueen rethought that statement. No, he’d tell the 58th. Which would be worse, because he dreaded to think what they’d do. With a sigh, he went back to his quarters and continued the search for that extra blanket.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dill was preparing for her first session, and wishing she’d brought someone with her to look after the children. Or left them at home with her mother. She sighed. She couldn’t possibly have left them behind. Poor Ty, he was always leaving them. He had no choice, but she did. She turned to the three smiling faces watching her.

“Come on, my lovers, let’s go play with some big guys!” she smiled brightly.

“Mummy?” Hamish asked as they made for the door.

“Yes, darling?” Dill bent to pick up Izzy.

“Is daddy coming to see us?”

“I don’t think so, my lover. He’s very busy at the moment. He might not be allowed to,” she told him, her hand ruffling his hair. “I’m afraid daddy can’t always do what he’d like to. He has to do what he’s told.”

“You can tell him, mummy,” Cameron piped up. “He does what you tell him to do.”

Dill smiled. “Only at home, sweetie. When he’s working he has to do what Glen tells him.”

“Who’s Glen?” Cameron asked as they headed to the rooms assigned to her for the training sessions.

“Hold Hamish’s hand please, Cameron. And no running off, Hamish, or I will make you wear reins!” she stated firmly.

“But mummy, who’s Glen?” Cameron persisted.

“Glen is daddy’s commanding officer. That means that Glen is in charge. He’s what’s called a Commodore. The Saratoga is his ship and what he says goes.”

“If he said daddy could come see us, he could?” Hamish asked.

“Yes, my lover. But daddy only just had leave. He won’t get any more for a long time. He’s going to try to come home for Christmas,” she smiled wistfully. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Mummy, are you the commodore of our house? Is that why daddy does as he’s told when you tell him?” Cameron asked.

“I guess you could say that,” Dill laughed. “But at home daddy is a commodore too. Or whatever the marine equivalent is. We’re both in charge.”

“Oh no, mummy. Daddy says he better do what you tell him or he won’t get to kiss you. He likes kissing you, mummy,” Cameron smiled up at her.

“I like kissing him too,” she chuckled. “He’s a cheeky daddy, saying that. You know I’d never not kiss all you guys.”

“Mummy, look!” Hamish pointed.

They’d turned a corner and there in front of them, to Dill’s astonishment, was a small selection of shops. Izzy started to squeal and fidget in her arms, pointing to one of the windows.

“Bug!” she cried. “Bug! Wants bug!”

The boys ran to the window she pointed at. There, in technicolor glory, was a large rubber grasshopper. It was of a colour no real grasshopper would ever be. It had a bright red body and royal blue legs, it’s wings were a shade of violent orange that made your eyes hurt, and it had quite possibly the most revolting looking face that Dill had ever seen. Who on earth decided that it should look like that, Dill wondered, as Izzy crowed softly over it, her hand reaching to paw at the glass in front of her.

“Bug?” Izzy asked, her eyes shining brightly. “Izzy’s bug?”

“No, darling, you don’t need it. Mummy brought you lots of toys,” Dill told her.

“But mummy, it’s a bug, just like Izzy eats!” Cameron giggled.

Izzy glared at Dill. “Bug!” she demanded.

“No, Izzy. Now come on, guys, we’ll be late. That wouldn’t be good, would it?” Dill said, turning from the window and walking away.

“Bug!” Izzy yelled. “Izzy bug!”

“Stop it, Izzy, or I’ll get cross,” Dill told her firmly.

Izzy screwed her face up, preparing to scream, then growled, “Izzy daddy bug.”

Dill couldn’t believe her ears. Izzy, at eighteen months, was already aware she could play her parents off against each other.

“Well, daddy’s not here, so he won’t be buying it for you!” Dill said crossly. “Get moving boys!”

She strode away, the howling Izzy in her arms, determined now that there was no way she was getting that hideous bug.

~~~~~~~~~~

McQueen was once again sat in Glen Ross’s quarters, sipping whiskey while Glen strummed his favourite blues tunes.

“So, Ty, are you all set for the morning?” Ross grinned at him.

“I can’t believe you allowed Hawkes to do this Glen. It’s ridiculous,” McQueen groused.

“He told me that he feels it’s appropriate. A member of the 58th, by default admittedly, has died, and a proper funeral should be observed.” Ross smiled evilly. “And I happened to agree with him. Hell, Ty, that little fur ball got under your skin. Admit it. I was shocked to hear that you were going to just put it in the disposal. And wrapped in a sock, of all things!” He shook his head, laughing.

“What are you supposed to do with them?” McQueen took a large gulp of his drink, sighing contentedly as the whiskey warmed his throat on the way down.

“At home you dig a hole in the yard, the family stands around, and either you or the kids say a few words. Then you bury it and forget all about it until the dog digs it up a few weeks later,” Ross laughed.

“Well, I’m not at home am I? And even if I was, we don’t have a dog.”

“No, you have a pig, a goat and a rabbit. What next? A sheep? A cow?“ guffawed Ross. “They should have named you Noah.”

McQueen glared at him. “It's three animals. That hardly counts as an Ark's worth. As I recall, didn’t he collect two of everything?”

“Just wait till your next leave. Now the kids know what a soft touch you are, it’ll be lions and tigers they want next time!” Ross chuckled.

“Oh no. I learned my lesson well. Next time I’ll ask Dill before I do anything stupid,” McQueen smiled.

“You should have learned that a long time ago, Ty. It would have saved you a whole lot of grief. It makes things flow so much more smoothly if you just do as your wife says first time around. They always seem to know best. And if you’re lucky, they don’t rub your nose in it afterwards.”

“Dill rarely does that,” McQueen smiled.

“I’ll bet you get a small shake of the head, a soft sigh, and that look of resignation that might just be pity at your foolishness,” Ross smiled.

McQueen nodded his assent. “Sounds familiar.”

“Ah, women. Can’t live with them, wouldn’t want to live without them,” Ross chuckled.

“Speak for yourself,” McQueen retorted. “I could live permanently with Dill quite happily. I tell you Glen, at home it’s so peaceful, so calm…”

“Three young children and you say it's calm?”

“Surprisingly, yes it is. After dealing with the 58th, my children are easy. They confuse the hell out of me, but I understand where they’re at. Doesn’t feel like too long ago I was there too,” McQueen laughed.

“I forget how young you really are, Ty. You’re what - twenty-four, twenty-five?”

“I’m twenty-six, if you’re looking at it like that.”

“What other way is there to look at it?” Ross asked, putting his guitar down.

“Well, when I look in the mirror I see a forty-four year old looking back at me,” McQueen sighed.

“How old is she?” Ross asked him.

“She’s thirty. Just turned in July.”

“So she’s older than you,” Ross grinned. “No wonder she understands you so well. Now then, McQueen, some of us old fogies still require our beauty sleep. I’ll see you bright and early. Dress blues, remember, and no trying to worm your way out of it.”

“Yes, sir,” McQueen frowned, getting up to leave. “Goodnight sir.”

“Good night Ty.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Dill and the children arrived to find four burly, sullen looking soldiers sitting there. Instantly she was transported back to her first session with Ty and Cooper. She took a deep breath and strode in, the children at her heels.

“Hello, gentleman. My name is Dylan, and these are my children. Let me introduce them - you’re going to be seeing a lot of them over the next few weeks.” She called the boys over.

“This big lad here is Hamish. He’s three years old. And this,” she ruffled his hair, “is his twin Cameron. In my arms I have Isobel, better known as Izzy. Call her what you will, she answers to both, and she’s eighteen months old. All three know how to play, and I’m sure will be helping you enjoy yourselves before too long. This is not a pass or fail class. There is no test at the end. We’re here simply to relax, let go and enjoy ourselves. We won’t be formal, so please, my name is Dylan, and I don’t want to hear people calling me ma’am.“

She looked at the four men. “Your turn. And please - I’m not interested in your serial number or rank. Just your names.”

They grudgingly each stood up and she found she was faced with an Amyas, a Leopold, a Godfrey and a Talbot.

“Good grief! The names they lumber you poor invitros with. Does someone spend their life digging out weird and wonderful names for you all, do you think? Someone with a nasty sense of humour,” she exclaimed.

That caused a few smiles, and one of them actually spoke.

“Well, ma’… Dylan, your names not so ordinary either.”

“I guess it’s not,” she smiled at the small, dark man. “Talbot, isn’t it?” He nodded. “But there’s a reason for that. Maybe I’ll tell you when I get to know you all better.”

They grinned at her, and she felt it wasn’t going to be too bad. She put Izzy down and stretched herself. “Sorry, gentleman, but she weighs a ton.”

“Mummy?” It was Hamish pulling on her jeans.

“Yes, my lover?”

“What we gonna do?” he asked tentatively, looking at these strange men. “Is daddy coming too?”

“No, darling. I told you daddy has to work.”

“With Glen?”

“Yes, darling, with Glen.”

Hamish sighed. “Can I go play?”

“Of course you can,” Dill smiled. “You too, Cameron, if you want to.” She watched as the boys and Izzy took off to explore the room, glad that she’d insisted on plenty of paint, paper and drawing materials… as well as a huge train set. After seeing how involved Ty had got with the boys' one, she’d pushed to be allowed one for using in these sessions.

“So,” she turned to the four men who’d been watching her intently, “what shall we do first? Anyone for foot painting?”

~~~~~~~~~

McQueen couldn’t believe the sight that greeted him. The 58th in their dress uniforms, Ross in his, and the chaplain too. How the hell did Hawkes get the chaplain to agree to this, he wondered, as he stood there not really paying attention. The 58th were neatly lined up to the side. Except for Hawkes, who stood proudly holding a small white box, covered in…. McQueen almost laughed out loud. A tiny flag covered the box. ‘Where the hell did he get that’, he wondered.

The chaplain continued his speech. ‘Get on with it!‘, thought McQueen, ‘before someone comes in here and sees the Commodore, a Colonel, a Major and three Captains, not to mention the chaplain, all standing to attention at the funeral of a goddamn hairy fur ball of a hamster! We would never live it down’. The 58th and he, in particular, would be the butt of even more jokes than they already were. The chaplain finished, and apparently from nowhere Ross pulled a bugle and began to play.

McQueen actually gasped in shock. ‘My God, he’s playing Taps. It’s a hamster!’ he wanted to shout. ‘Are we going to have a twenty–one gun salute too?’ He stood there saluting, as everyone else did, while Hawkes bent to load the tiny box ready for shooting into space.

McQueen watched as, with a puzzled look on his face, Hawkes stopped what he was doing. The younger man removed the flag, casually dropping it to the floor in his haste to open the box. Once he had it opened, his face lit up and he grinned widely at everyone.

“It’s alive! A miracle! It must be a miracle! It was dead, but now it’s alive!” He turned to McQueen. “Colonel, it’s alive!”

“Great,” mumbled McQueen, taking the box Hawkes thrust at him. “Damn hamster, make your mind up. Are you dead or alive?”

“Aren’t you glad now I stopped you throwing it in the waste disposal?” Hawkes asked, as everyone gathered around to see.

McQueen looked at the faces watching him. He sighed. “Yes, Hawkes, I guess I am. Thank you.”

They all smiled at him, knowing he didn’t really mean it. But then McQueen realised that actually, yes, he was glad. He reached out to take Hawke’s arm as the boy turned to leave.

“I mean it, Cooper. Thank you.” Closing the box, McQueen left and headed back to his quarters, readying to feed the hamster and ensure it had a plentiful supply of water. “We have a second chance, fur ball” he told it. “This time I’m going to research hamsters and actually find out how to look after you properly.”

He heard someone behind him. Turning, he saw Ross hurrying to catch him up. “Ty, wait up!” he called. Reaching him, Glen smiled. “Once you’re back in your regular gear I want you to come to my office. I’ve something I want to discuss with you.”

“Sure. I just need to put this thing back in its cage and make sure it can’t escape, and I’ll be right there,” Ty nodded absently.

“Fifteen mikes, McQueen. I’ll expect you then.”

He looked up, hearing the official tone of Ross’s voice. “Yes, sir. Fifteen mikes, sir.”

Fifteen mikes later did indeed find him in the doorway to Ross’s office, Stirrup safely ensconced in his cage, and McQueen back in his familiar black flight suit.

“Sir?” he asked, seeing Ross poring over some papers.

“They’re sending us to get repairs,” Ross said without looking up.

“And that’s a problem, sir?” McQueen asked.

“To Mir.”

“Ah. That place is still running? It’s as bad as its namesake was. I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen apart yet,” McQueen commented.

“They’ve upgraded it. Apparently it’s far more... ‘swanky’, I believe the term used was,” Ross grinned. “I thought we could let the crew have a little R&R while we’re there. We will be there for some considerable time, after all. Three weeks, at least, while they fix the hull and replace the cannons. Apparently it has shops, restaurants and bars….”

“Hookers too, no doubt,” McQueen said scornfully.

“Now, now, Ty. There was a time when you wouldn’t have said no.”

“I was young and didn’t know any better,” he frowned, not happy about being reminded.

“No, Ty. You were young and didn’t have anyone else, like a lot of the crew on this ship. You’re just feeling jealous because you wish Dylan were there,” Ross winked at him.

McQueen flushed. “No, I am not!” he snapped. “Sir.”

“So why are you blushing? I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve seen you blush, and all of them have involved Dylan,” Ross laughed. “Hell, man, if you were natural born you’d have been beating them off with sticks.” He shook his head, laughing still. “It’s a tragedy, that’s what it is. A tragedy.”

“So who’s taking over from us out here?” McQueen asked, trying to change the subject. “The Colin Powell again?”

“Yes. You know full well they rotate us, the two best ships in the fleet,” Ross said proudly.

“That we are, sir,” McQueen smiled. “That we are.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The sessions were going well. All four men had relaxed into it when they found that Dill wasn’t at all judgemental of them, and after two weeks they were getting on famously with the children, too.

“Amus?” Hamish asked as they sat together at a table rolling play dough with Cameron and Godfrey.

Amyas looked up. “Yes?”

“You gotta neck like my daddy,” the boy said conversationally.

“We’ve all got necks,” Amyas laughed.

“I ain’t. Nor’s Camrun or Izzy, or Gamma. Not mummy even,” he told him.

“Mummy likes daddy’s neck. She kisses it!” Cameron chirped up. “It makes him feel all happy.”

“Yeah, mummy tickles his neck too,” Hamish added nodding. “He says to stop, but she does it more!”

“He likes it really. He says she’s a bad mummy, but then he kisses her,” Cameron said.

“They’s always kissing,” Hamish said, shaking his head.

“Is your daddy here?” asked Amyas.

“No, daddy’s with Glen. He tells daddy what to do,” Hamish offered. “I wish he was ‘ere.”

“Mummy does too,“ Cameron said. “And me and Izzy.”

Looking around, Amyas saw that Dill was sitting at another table with Talbot and Leopold. They were laughing and talking as Izzy crawled around under the table. He looked at Godfrey, who nodded.

“So boys, tell me. What does your daddy do?” Amyas asked.

Over the last week the four of them had been developing their suspicions, but didn’t want to come right out and ask Dill. They’d decided to do it via the boys first. They’d been amazed at the way she completely ignored the fact that they were invitros. No tank comments, no nasty looks when she thought they weren’t watching. And to their utter astonishment, she had no hesitation in touching them. It might only be a hand on their shoulder or arm, or perhaps resting on their back as she peered over a shoulder looking at a drawing or a painting, but it was still touch. Something which as invitros they received very little of. And they were unused to natural borns touching them so freely.

Hamish’s face glowed with delight. “My daddy can do anyfing! He puts the trains togever. He roweded us in my boat….”

“He knows how to make a camp in the trees!” Cameron grinned. “And he can do fast running too!”

“A pirate camp!” Hamish chuckled. “He’s the bestest daddy. ‘Cept he has to go away.” Now Hamish’s face fell. His lip trembled. “I wan’ my daddy,” he whispered.

Dill looked up, her maternal senses on hyper drive. Coming over to him, she picked him up and cuddled him.

“What’s the matter, my lover?” she asked as he buried his face in her neck and sobbed.

“He wants daddy,” Cameron told her sadly.

“Oh, sweetie,” Dill cooed. “It’s hard, my lover, I know. But soon you’ll get a letter from him, and perhaps a new toy.”

“I wanna cuddle wiv my daddy,” Hamish sobbed.

“So do I, sweetie. So do I,” Dill muttered as she rocked him in her arms. “Shush now, darling. Daddy’s going to do his best to come see us. You know that. If he could be here with his little guys, he would. He misses you too.”

“Dylan?” Amyas asked shyly.

She swung around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Your husband... what does he do?” He looked away quickly. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“That’s okay,” she smiled at him. “He’s a soldier, fighting this damn war, just like you guys.”

“He’s a colonel! “ Cameron announced proudly. “But he’s a commodore at home with mummy.” The young boy looked confused. “Is a colonel good?”

Godfrey laughed. “Yeah, a colonel's a good thing to be. Better than us grunts anyway.”

“So what is he? Army? Air Force?” Amyas asked.

“Oh my, no!” Dill laughed. “He’s a Marine. A life taker, and a heart breaker!”

“Where’s he stationed?” Amyas pushed.

Before Dill could answer there came a wail, as Izzy fell over and banged her head. Putting the now calm Hamish down, she went to pick up Izzy and soothe her.

“Daddy’s on the ‘Toga,” Cameron answered for her. “With Glen. Glen's a commodore. He tells daddy what to do. He could tell daddy to come home.”

“But we’s not at home,” Hamish said softly. “We’s here. Wot if daddy goes home an’ we ain’t there?”

“Gamma sent him a message, silly!” Cameron told him. “I heard Gamma telling mummy.”

“Daddy will know we’s here?” Hamish’s face brightened.

“Yup,“ Cameron nodded.

“Okay everyone,” Dill announced. “That’s it for today. I was thinking that maybe tomorrow we could do something messy. Any preferences? How about a little finger painting?”

There was a general murmur of assent as the four invitros helped her tidy the room before saying goodbye and heading off.

“Come on, my lovers,” she grinned at the boys. ”I know you’ve been getting bored, so I’ve got a surprise for you. I booked you a session in a real space room, so you can float as if you’re out in space… or you can fly like superman. It’s called a zero gravity chamber. Once you’ve done that, we’ll go get some dinner, and then you can watch a film while I put Izzy to bed. Deal?”

The boys grinned at her.

“Real floating, mummy?” Cameron asked.

“Like superman?” Hamish’s eyes were wide.

“Uh huh,” she nodded. “Come on, let's go. And hold hands!” she yelled at them as they ran out of the door.

~~~~~~~~~

McQueen had had a trying day. It’d started in the officers mess. Hawkes had asked if he could sit with him while he ate breakfast, and had then proceeded to chatter endlessly about the ‘miracle’ of Stirrup's funeral. Eventually, hoping desperately that Hawkes wasn’t going to start yelling hallelujah or tell him that he’d found God, McQueen had ordered him to use the space net to investigate how to look after hamsters, telling him that they hibernated. The temperature drop they’d all had to endure had affected Stirrup and made him go into hibernation. He wasn’t dead at all, just asleep. It had been no miracle, just a natural reaction to the increase in temperature. He’d left Hawkes sitting open mouthed as he stormed away.

He’d gone back to his quarters to find the little fur ball had escaped again. After a long laborious search he had found it in his footlocker, chewing on his Angry Angels beret, which now had a rather tattered and torn edge. Whilst putting it back in its cage, he’d noticed its little chest heaving rather more labouredly than usual, and checking the printout he’d got from the space net, had convinced himself the damn thing had pneumonia. He was halfway to sickbay with it when he realised that it would be ship wide knowledge in less than five mikes if he walked in and asked the doc to take a look, and so, changing into civvies, he’d hitched a lift down to Mir with a transport taking crew for their R&R, and ‘Hamish Mackenzie’ had taken his hamster to the doc there. The doc had raised his eyebrows, but admitted that his children kept them and he knew about them. He’d asked McQueen a few questions, x-rayed Stirrup to make sure he hadn’t broken anything, checked his cheek pouches for impacted food and listened to him breathing. He finally declared him fit and charged McQueen $50 for the privilege.

On his arrival back on the ‘Toga, Ross had been waiting for him with a stern look on his face.

“Colonel McQueen, it has come to my knowledge that whilst you have scheduled R&R on the space station Mir for the rest of your squad, you have not done so for yourself.”

“Commodore, sir,” McQueen had said. “I have no desire to spend any time on Mir. There’s nothing there that interests me, sir.”

“And yet, colonel, I have a report that you did indeed go down to Mir today, whilst you were supposed to be on duty. And I can see for myself, colonel, that not only are you returning from said trip, but that you are out of uniform. Would you care to explain your actions?”

McQueen squirmed. Ross quirked a grin at seeing him so uncomfortable.

“Sir, I would be glad to explain, sir. Somewhere more private.”

Looking at the box in McQueen’s hands, Ross’d nodded. “My office, colonel, in ten mikes, and be sure to be properly attired.”

“Yes, sir. Ten mikes, sir.” McQueen’d snapped off a sharp salute and headed for his quarters.

He’d installed Stirrup back in his cage, changed into his flight suit, and gone to see Ross, to be laughed at for his explanation and ordered down to Mir for forty eight hours R&R. Ross had already booked him a room.

So here he was, sitting in a bar having a beer for want of anything else to do. He’d brought some gym gear with him, his plan being to use the gym, have a swim, eat dinner and go to bed. The station had nothing else to offer him. There were some shops so he’d bought a few gifts for his children. Nothing for Dill though. He wanted to buy her something nice.

His mind was occupied with what he could buy for Dill, and he didn’t notice when someone sat next to him.

“Buy a girl a drink?”

He looked up into the green eyes of a tall, slim blonde smiling at him.

“I’m married,” he told her, turning back to his beer.

“And your wife, is she here? Because I don’t see her,” came the reply.

“I’m not interested,” he said plainly.

“What, a good looking man like you? Miles from the loving bosom of his wife? It’s lonely out here, soldier. We all need a little comfort.”

He turned to look at her. “I’m a tank. Now go away and leave me alone.”

He felt her hand on his neck, her fingers gently stroke his navel, and he shrugged her off, glaring at her.

“A tank, huh? Just what I need. A nice, strong tank who knows exactly how to show a girl a good time, all night long. It’s been a long time since I rode a nice one like you. I’m sure I could help you feel better... relieve a little of that tension.”

“Just what is it you don’t understand?” McQueen snapped. “The fact that I’m married, or that I’m not interested?”

“Oh, come on now, don’t be shy. You’re a tank, with everything that goes with it. I’m offering you the chance to really let go, no holds barred, to do all those things the little wife back at home won’t let you do. You know what I mean, don’t you?” She smiled. “She’s afraid you might hurt her, being so big… and so strong. Such a waste of a damn fine body. Let's put it to the test. Let’s see just how far you can go.”

“I know how far you can go,“ he told her, his voice icy with anger. “You can go as far as the next airlock and shoot yourself out it, or I’ll do it for you! Now get out of my face and leave me alone!” He stood, his whole body quivering with rage, and grabbing his bag, marched out the door and headed for the gym, determined to work it out there.

~~~~~~~~~

Dill and the children were heading back to their quarters. The children had thoroughly enjoyed themselves in the zero gravity chamber, and Dill hoped they’d worn themselves out. Rather than expect them to sit nicely in one of the restaurants, Dill had picked up pizza for them and promised the boys they could eat it in front of the vid screen, a rare treat indeed.

As they walked past the gym, Hamish stopped. He turned to the door, sniffing.

“Daddy’s here!” he cried excitedly. “I can smell him!”

“Darling, I’m sure there are plenty of people in there who smell of hammerhead fuel, but daddy’s not in there, my lover,” Dill told him, a hand on his shoulder gently guiding him away. “Come on now, let's go eat our pizza before it gets cold.”

“No mummy, it smells like daddy. My daddy!” Hamish insisted, before wriggling away from her and running inside.

With an exasperated sigh, Dill followed him, Cameron at her heels, Izzy in her arms.

“Hamish McQueen, just you get your little monkey self back here right now!” she called to his disappearing back.

She caught up with him at the door to the men’s changing rooms. Hamish had been grabbed by a security officer and was trying to tell the man that his daddy was in there.

“I wan’ my daddy!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “Daddy!”

“I’m so sorry,” Dill told the man, “he’s got it fixed in his head, and I can’t persuade him otherwise.”

“Look lady, he can’t go in there, and neither can you. Take your brats and leave.”

“There’s no need to be so rude,” Dill told him. “He’s a little boy who thinks his daddy is in there, and he’s not harming anyone.”

“Except their ears,“ he growled at her. “Take him and leave. Our clients don’t want to have to listen to screaming kids. It’s a gym, not a crèche!”

Dill tried to take Hamish’s arm. As she juggled Izzy and the pizza, she heard footsteps behind her approaching the door. She reached to grab at Hamish to pull him out of the way, and turned to apologise. Standing in front of her, dressed in sweatpants and a sweat stained tank top, was Ty, his face a picture of shock, his mouth open.

“Daddy!” Hamish flung himself at his father, followed by Cameron.

The boys wrapped themselves around his legs as McQueen fumbled for words.

“Hey, Ty,” Dill grinned. ”Surprise!”

“Dill?” he finally managed. “What… I mean,” Ty reached automatically to ruffle both boys' hair, “what are you doing….”

Ty didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Dill was on him. The pizza hit the floor as she wrapped her free arm around his neck and reached up to kiss him. He was overwhelmed as arms wrapped around him. The boys hugged his legs tightly, Dill kissed him ferociously, and he could feel Izzy kissing the side of his face. When Dill finally let him go, he beamed at her.

“I don’t know how you’re here, but I’m glad you are,” he told her. “Let me get cleaned up, and we’ll get a replacement pizza and go say hello properly.”

“Hurry,” Dill told him. “Don’t worry about a shower. You can do that later. Just grab your stuff and let’s go.”

As McQueen disentangled himself from the boys, Dill stood back and looked at him. She was convinced he’d lost weight, but enjoyed the sight of him in his gym clothes, and the way his muscles rippled under the thin damp cotton. ‘Control yourself woman,’ she told herself. ‘Three months is all it’s been. You’ve been apart longer than that before now.’

McQueen prised himself away from the two boys, and went to get his bag. He emerged minutes later and allowed himself to be led by the boys, one on each hand, to the quarters they had. He looked around and whistled.

“Wow, Dill, this is amazing. How’d you get them to give you such large quarters?” He frowned at her. “Your money's come through? I forgot you have money.”

“Ty, don’t be like that. We talked about it, didn’t we? It’s our money, for my husband and me. But no, I’m not paying for these. The military is. I told them I had specific requirements, and I wouldn’t work for them unless they met them. They obviously wanted me badly, because they met them all without a murmur.” She looked at him, confused. “But you know this, surely? You got my letter? Mother's message?”

“I haven’t had any mail at all from you since I got back,” he told her.

“But I’ve sent it, at least a half dozen packages,” Dill answered.

“Daddy, come and play.” Hamish was tugging at his hand.

“Go be with the children. I’ll go get us more pizza,” she smiled. “We can talk about this later.”

“Okay,” he smiled, as the boys pulled him down onto the floor to wrestle.

Dill stood at the door, watching him with the children... watching the way his body moved so smoothly and fluidly as he moved to grab the children and swing them up into the air. Smiling that this gorgeous man was hers, she went for pizza, telling herself again that it had only been three months. This wave of raw lust was ridiculous, though she felt good that after six years he still had that effect on her.

When she got back, he was sat on the sofa with the boys. “Where’s Izzy?” she asked.

“In bed. She passed right out in my arms. I figured it was better to put her to bed than to keep her up for food,” Ty smiled. “Was that okay?”

“Of course it was,” Dill nodded. “Now which of my boys wants pizza?”

All three of them jumped up from the sofa and came over to get some. She noticed that Ty’d pulled on a clean, fresh shirt as he reached past her for a napkin for Hamish.

“Here, little guy - wipe your hands and mouth on that, not on your clothes,” he told him.

“Yes, daddy,” the little boy grinned. “I knowed you was there, daddy. I smelled you.”

“You knew I was there, and you smelt me,” Ty corrected him automatically, before taking a huge bite out of his slice of pizza.

Dill just sat, her chin in her hands, watching his interaction with the boys. There was no reticence from either of them, and it was as though they’d last seen him only that morning. Ty glanced up at her. The look on her face made him look away from her, embarrassed by the look of lust he saw. But seconds later he glanced quickly at her, surprised at how turned on he was by the fact that she so openly showed how much she wanted him. It made him feel ever so slightly nervous. She had a distinct predatory air to her, and whilst it turned him on, it also scared him witless, as he wondered just what exactly she had in mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

Watching him as he slowly dried himself, Dill almost drooled at the sight of his not quite so pale body. She smiled as she saw the paler lines of his buttocks. No matter how hard she’d tried, she hadn’t managed to persuade him nude sunbathing was a good idea. She still couldn’t believe the effect he was having on her. Dill smiled at him and went for a quick shower. She’d only just managed to stop herself climbing in with Ty when he had his. She knew if she did, she would never have been able to keep her hands off him, and from the way he’d been acting since he’d put the boys to bed, she could tell that he was as nervous as he had been the first time they’d made love.

When she came out ten minutes later Ty was curled up in the bed, his arm wrapped around a pillow as he snored softly into it. Dropping her towel onto a chair, Dill slid in next to him and pulled him to her. With a soft moan of pleasure Ty snuggled to her, his head resting on her breast and an arm reaching across her hips. He didn’t though wake up. Sighing, Dill kissed his head and saw the resultant smile. Just that, she thought. That small sleeping smile. That alone was enough to feed her love for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TY woke to the feeling of Dill's hands on him, her fingers gently tracing the scars on his chest. He gasped as he felt her tongue softly licking them, laving at his nipples, as her other hand stroked his smooth, flat abdomen.

“Awake at last,” she whispered against his chest, turning her head to look at him. “I thought you’d never wake up, you sleepyhead.”

“So you decided to take advantage of me in my sleep?” Ty smiled.

“I’m afraid I just couldn’t control myself any longer,” she sighed, returning her mouth to his nipple, nipping and sucking on it.

Ty lay there smiling, feeling his body responding to Dill as his hands stroked her back and gently kneaded her shoulders. She slowly worked her way down his body, licking and kissing, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin, on his abdomen, and on his thighs. Giggling, she felt him quiver in anticipation of each fresh lick and kiss. Her tongue worked its way through his soft curling hair to the hard aching cock.

McQueen gasped, and his hips bucked, as she sucked him into her mouth, releasing him inch by inch until Dill held only the tip still in her mouth. Her tongue began to lick across it, to dip in and out of the slit. Her lips firmly clamped around him, she started to suck, one hand reaching to stroke and gently knead his testicles as the other held his cock firmly while she sucked him.

As she sucked harder Ty's hips began to move and to thrust upwards, desperate to feel more of himself in her hot warm mouth. Dill moved her hand from his cock, and relaxing her throat, took his whole length. Her hands reaching to hold him down to stop him thrusting, she shifted herself so that her body weight held him, and very gently she inserted a finger into him, smiling as she felt rather than saw his reaction. Waiting for him to relax, Dill sucked him harder, her curls bobbing as her head moved. Slowly a second finger joined the first, and she very gently began to thrust, searching for his prostate, knowing that if she could relax him enough he’d buck himself right off the bed. She knew she’d found it when Ty cried out and grabbed her head, holding it steady as he fucked her mouth. Using her free hand, Dill pried his hands from her and held them against her breasts. By the time he came, he was twisting underneath her, mumbling incoherently and gripping the sheets so tightly she was afraid he’d rip them. She sucked him dry, and began to kiss her way back up his body, her hands stroking his still trembling form, whispering soft soothing words to him as she reached his face.

Dill lay on top of McQueen, one hand in his hair gently stroking his head as the other ran up and down his side, stroking, kneading, and just wanting to feel his body. She kissed him, her tongue tasting his lips, his gums, his teeth, twining with his tongue, sucking him back into her mouth, only pausing to allow him to breathe. Her kisses trailed down his throat and up the side of his face, kissing his ears as her finger traced their outline. Her mouth moved to his forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, his chin, before finally back to his mouth.

Underneath her Ty moved, pushing his hips against hers. Dill’d trapped his cock against her own pubic hair, and the feel of it rubbing against him was making him harden again. His hands moved to her hips, readying to position her over him, to thrust himself deep inside her. Instead he felt her pulling him onto his side, a leg hooking across his buttocks and thighs, pulling him in close as she began to rub herself against him. Her arms wrapped around him, as close as she could get him, while her kisses still ranged over his face and neck. Ty's arms reached to stroke Dill's back, his fingers dancing across her skin and down to her buttocks. She moved one arm, catching his hand and bringing it between them, before once again wrapping around him, trapping his hand between them as she rubbed against him faster and faster, until he could hold back no more. The feeling was too intense for him and he let go, realising at last that tonight Dill was in charge. If she wanted him to just relax and let her work, he would. He called her name as he came, feeling his hot semen spilling onto both their stomachs.

Dill gently laid Ty down onto his back, giving him a final kiss, and once again worked her way down his body, licking him clean as she did so. He watched as she wiped his semen from her own abdomen and brought it to her mouth. She did it again, but this time her fingers came to his mouth. He sucked on them eagerly, desperate to show her how much he wanted her. Then it hit him; so far she’d managed to make him feel very good, but he hadn’t been inside her. He wondered if that was to do with the whole argument they’d had about protection. For a moment he was horrified to think that she might never allow him to make love to her again. But then he saw the look in her eyes, and all such fears faded.

Dill softly stroked Ty's whole body, gently kneading any tenseness she found, until despite the fact that he’d come twice already, he was rock hard and twitching for her. With a smile, she climbed onto him, positioned herself, and slid down his length. His hands came to hold her hips as she began to ride him, sliding herself upwards and down again far more forcefully, until he was thrusting up into her as hard as he could as she slapped her body down onto his, both of them groaning with pleasure. McQueen smiled as he felt Dill's body tense, and his hand slipped to rub at her swollen clitoris, making her cry out as she pounded herself down onto him. He knew she was close. He was close too, but he held on until he knew she was there. Her body arched as she cried out, and she fell forwards onto his chest, his arms reaching to grab her and hold her upright as his hips thrust relentlessly into her until he, too, came, almost passing out from the intensity of it.

They lay, him on his back with her head on his chest, while Dill yet again began to gently run her hands up and down his body, tickling gently, fondling his hips and his thighs, before coming up to stroke his chest and tweak his nipples.

“You can’t keep your hands off me, can you?” Ty chuckled.

“Nope,“ Dill smiled. “I just need to be touching you. I love the way you feel... the way your body feels under my hands. Your muscles all hard and firm, quivering under your skin. It feels... well, it just feels so good.” She winked at him. “It turns me on no end.”

He bent his head to kiss her. ”I’m glad I still turn you on,” he whispered, ”because you definitely turn me on big time.”

Dill's hand slipped to his groin. “Oh, I can feel that,” she laughed. “Come on, flyboy. Don’t just lie there like a sack of potatoes. Show me just how much.”

“Yes, Dill,” Ty chuckled, rolling her onto her back and starting to kiss his way down her body, eager to pleasure her - to taste her.

He looked up confused, as her hands reached to pull him back up. “No,” she said firmly. “That’s not what I want. You, inside me, now. That’s what I want.”

Ty kissed his way back up to Dill's face. Positioning himself at her hot, slick entrance, with one hard thrust he was inside her, waiting for her to tell him to go on. He grinned as she nodded.

“Hard, Ty. Hard and fast. No fannying around. I want you to let go. No holding back,” Dill told him, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“My pleasure,” he whispered, burying his head in her neck, gripping her shoulders, and pumping into her. Slowly he built to a fast and furious pace that he knew would have hurt his first wife Amy, but which he knew Dill loved, an advantage of her being half invitro.

“Oh, come on, Ty. You’re not really trying, are you?” Dill teased. “I can hardly feel you.”

He increased the pace, slamming his body into hers so hard he was sure she’d have bruises in the morning.

“That’s better,“ she cried. “I knew you were holding back!”

“You’re going to kill me!” Ty gasped as he felt his orgasm approaching. “I sure hope you’re coming, because I am, and I don’t know if I can hold it.”

His reply was her body arching against him, her muscles clenching around his pounding cock, as she bit down on his shoulder, crying out as she did so. He let himself go and with three more powerful thrusts he collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. Ty felt Dill's arms around him as he closed his eyes and let himself drift.

Coming to, Ty was on his back again. He could feel Dill's hands massaging him. “Don’t you ever stop?” he asked softly.

She looked at him. “Why would I want to? I haven’t had enough of you yet. I need more.”

“More?“ he shook his head. “I don’t know if I can, Dill. I’m wiped out.”

“You can do it. You know you can,” she smiled. “Where’s that famous invitro stamina? And after all,” she leaned close to whisper in his ear, “you were designed for this. Let's see just how far you can go.”

McQueen lay back and looked at her. When exactly had his wife turned into a sex maniac, he wondered. He gasped, feeling her hand on his cock. “There is no way in hell, Dill, you’re going to get a response.”

“Wanna bet?” she smiled. “Feels like you’re hardening up nicely to me.”

“I can’t, Dill, please,” Ty pleaded.

“Oh, come on marine. Just once more, for me,” Dill pouted.

He gave in. “Where do you want me?”

“On your knees,“ she giggled, kneeling down on all fours in front of him.

“I’m warning you this might be real quick, or it might not happen at all,” Ty said, positioning himself, ready to slide inside her.

“Just do it and stop thinking about it!” she snapped. “Fuck me, Ty, and fuck me good!”

“Oh God, that feels good.” he moaned, as he pushed himself deeply into her.

“See?” she giggled. “Now fuck me nice and hard.”

“Yes ma’am.” Reaching to lift her up to him, Ty began to thrust, building to a rhythm that had them both gasping as they came. He let Dill drop to the bed and collapsed next to her, gathering her into his arms.

They lay snuggled together in comfortable silence.

“Happy now? Satisfied at last?” he asked.

“Mmm hmm,” she mumbled. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,“ he chuckled. “In fact most of it was my pleasure. Why wouldn’t you let me go down on you?”

“Because I needed you. I needed to feel you, to touch you. And I knew when I did get you, I wanted you hard and fast. I didn’t want to waste time.”

“You...,” he began, then stopped. “We didn’t use anything. We agreed that we would. Hell, Dill, you agreed!”

“Don’t worry, we did,” Dill smiled up at him. “I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but it’s too late. Before I came away I spoke to mother about it.”

Ty looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “You spoke to your mother about our sex life?”

“She is a doctor, Ty. Anyway, she sent me out with a couple of contraceptive patches. They last about 3 months each.”

“So you were planning on sleeping with someone then?” he asked. Horrified, Ty pulled away from her.

“They’re not for me,” Dill grinned. “You wanted us to take precautions, so they’re for you. I slapped one on your bum while you were sleeping earlier. Of course tonight was a risk - it does say apply twenty-four hours before you intend fucking your husband's socks off, but I couldn’t have kept away from you for that long.” She looked so apologetic that he laughed out loud.

“It’s okay, Dill. I enjoyed it too. It’s a risk I’m okay with. And after the war,” he pulled her to him and kissed her, “I’ll happily give you more kids. You want a whole football team? It’d be my pleasure.”

She snuggled in his arms, laughing. “Well, not a whole team. Just maybe a couple more kids.”

“Whatever you want,” Ty sighed, kissing her hair.

“You don’t mind that I made you wear the patch?”

“No, not at all. I know Moira will have checked to make sure it’s safe for me. And it was my decision that we should use contraceptives, so I consider it fair.”

“I love you, Tyrus Cassius McQueen,” Dill smiled.

“I love you too, Dylan McQueen. Now go to sleep.”

“Yes, Ty. In a minute,“ she sighed. “I’ve missed you so much. Not just the sex, but you. So many times I’ve found myself cooking you breakfast, or gone halfway to the goat house to ask you something. I miss this, just snuggling... sitting in front of the TV, my head in your lap, as we watch something. Talking to you after the kids have gone to bed. I miss you, Ty. The house feels empty without you. Without hearing you laughing with the children, or chuckling over the cartoon in the newspaper. I miss listening to you while you tell me something I don’t understand about specs for the SA 43 or the U 70, or whatever they were. I even miss hearing you yell at me when you’re angry.”

“It was the U-378, and I miss you too, Dill,” Ty told her, hugging her close. “For many of those same reasons. There are some nights when I’d give anything just to have you standing there telling me off.”

“I do that a lot, don’t I? Sorry,” Dill whispered.

“No you don’t. Not really,” Ty smiled. “Now go to sleep. I’m tired. You’ve exhausted me. I’ll need leave just to recover....” He kissed her smiling face. “I was designed for it! Honestly, Dill, you really are a complete monster. I might think you only wanted me for my body if I didn’t know otherwise.”

Dill chuckled softly against his chest.

~~~~~~~~~