Alaskan Crash

He raised a brow. "Killed me... with your chipper? Somehow I don't know that anyone would notice," he said with a wry look, taking a seat.

"I would because I would be sad," she said firmly. She pointed at him, "Now, we're going to have breakfast, go check on my chopper, then call my Dad."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak with so many warring thoughts and emotions swirling around in his head. He sat and they ate for long moments in silence. Finally, he murmured, "I'm sorry. It's... been a long time since... well... since it mattered."

She reached across and laid her hand on his, "You matter to me," she stated simply, then smiled at him. She finished eating, then washed her plate. When he finished she stole his plate to wash his as well with a giggle.

"Hey!" he protested, turning to try and take it back.

She wiggled her butt to block him, finishing the dish and putting it on the drain, "Is for horses," she giggled. Then tilted her head to look up at him. "All finished, whatcha gonna do, spank me?" She tilted her head, "I'd just enjoy it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Caitlan... that's the only reason worth doing it...," he said softly.

She tilted her head, "Truth," she giggled, then wrapped her arms around him in a hug, a brief wince at stretching her shoulder but knowing she couldn't baby it forever. "Alright, let's get shit done."

They dressed, then headed to check on her chopper. It was completely covered in snow and was half on its side, the blades resting in a snowbank. "That's not good." She murmured with wide eyes. "So... how do you feel about having a house guest until spring at least?"

"I think that you're still... not a bother," he said, looking at her and wondering how such a thing could be happening. The one thing that had given him peace in years was not going to be an extremely short-term one. He didn't know what to do with that. "You... can stay as long as you... want."

She looked up at him, then wrapped her arms around him, "Let's go tell my Dad that I'm not coming back for a while." She wrinkled her nose, "We'll have to come up with the truck in the spring to get the chopper most likely. So, shall we go back in?"

"I... yeah... Spring," he blinked stunned. It would be three months at least before the roads up to this portion of the mountain were clear enough that the plows could do their work and make it so someone could get through.

She slid her arm through his and walked with him back to the house. "I'm going to ask Dad to send me some clothes with the crate Larry delivers. At least that way I'm not running around naked." She went to the radio, adjusted the frequency, and pressed the transmit button, "Dead Goose Launch, this is KL7BQV. Hey Dad, my bird is down, repeat my bird is down. How copy?"

"Well, shit. How bad?"

"It's at a forty-five and I'm pretty sure the main rotor is warped. I'm going to be here till spring. Kevin already gave me the OK. Can you send some clothes up with the crate Larry will drop?"

"Can do. Are you OK?"

"Peachy keen. Just send the black duffle bags. Would you like to talk to Kevin?"

"Yes," she turned to hand the mic to him, stepping out to give him some privacy with her dad.

"This is Kevin," Kevin said, wondering why her father wanted to talk to him and worried that he might have upset him by not making sure the chopper was still upright somehow.

"How is she really?" the old man cut to the chase. "She tends to downplay her injuries when she's talking to me. Last time she was peachy keen, she had a broken collarbone."

Kevin was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "Chopper took part of a tree through the windshield. The side window exploded and she caught glass through her coat into her side and back. Dislocated her shoulder somehow. Shoulder's fixed. It'll be sore for a few more days, but that'll be fine. I cleaned out the glass. She needed some stitches. Looks to be healing OK. A little pus, but it doesn't look infected and I've cleaned it twice now. It'll probably scab over in a couple of days. Other than that, she seems fine, sir. Other than being trapped in the middle of nowhere Alaska with a used-up Marine. Sir."

"I'm nobody's Sir," the old man responded, "Not anymore." The old man was quiet for a long moment, then he spoke. "Thank you for taking care of her. She gets stubborn and has an awful lot of her momma in her. If she sets her mind on something it takes a miracle or a whole heap load of logic to get her to change it." He chuckled, "And I doubt she thinks she's trapped with a used-up Marine."

Kevin didn't know what to say to that other than, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Now, you take care of my daughter, I'll make sure to send extra and some feminine things..." he paused, contemplating, "And condoms. Over and out."

Underneath his beard and mustache, Kevin turned beet red and stared at the HF unit in stunned shock, his mouth open. Her father was sending him condoms and he was still afraid he was going to kill her in his sleep. What on Earth was her dad thinking?

She was in the kitchen puttering around and when he came out, she smiled at him, walking over to wrap her arms around him, "Good talk?" She laid her head on his shoulder. "Mmm, warm."

"Strange talk. Your father is... an unusual man," he murmured, looking down at her. Not for the first time, he was struck by her beauty as his own arm found its way around her.

"He's very pragmatic," she offered with a shrug. She leaned into him, her eyes closed, and simply basked.

Over the next month, she slotted herself into his life as if she was always meant to be there. The night terrors grew fewer but didn't completely go away. Her body healed, and outside a little lingering soreness of her shoulder, she was fit. Larry came, his helicopter was a lot smaller than hers, and instead of being able to land and unload, he was only able to lower the crate to the ground and the two of them unhitched. Larry waved, then left, leaving them alone once more.

She let him put it away and made a light lunch for them, when he brought her clothes in, she took them to put in the bedroom. Then she groaned, "Oh Jesus fuck, Dad..."

"What?" he asked curiously from the kitchen as he cleaned up after lunch.

"He sent lingerie," she responded, "and a box of... flavored condoms, and ribbed for her pleasure condoms..."

He set down the dish that he was working on and walked to the bedroom door. "Your dad doesn't even know me...," he said, his brow furrowed. "I could be a serial killer. Or a psychotic ex-Marine...," he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, "You had a background check done when you signed up for Dead Goose Launch deliveries. So no you're not a serial killer, nor are you a psychotic ex-Marine. Besides, you've let me talk to him every week without issue and I haven't had to use a single 'rescue me' code word. Of course, sending condoms is kind of hopeful, you haven't even asked to see my breasts."

"Folks always taught me that was pretty presumptuous," he said softly, he shrugged.

She held up the pale blue lace baby doll, "I wonder if Dad realizes that I'm in nowhere Alaska and wearing this is an invitation to freeze?"

"I mean... technically so is showing off your breasts, which requires even less clothing. He didn't think this out very well did he?" Kevin mused.

"Well, see that would be different, because if you asked to see my breasts, then that would imply that you wanted to also touch them. They'd be exposed for a short time then your hands and or mouth would be on them and warm them right back up." She folded the lingerie up and put it in the dresser. "So, what would you like to do today?"

Kevin stood there stunned. There she was, casually talking about him seeing and touching her breasts just like her father had talked about sending condoms, and did. He had no idea how to process that information and his mouth hung open slightly. "I... uh...," he trailed off, having no clue how to answer her question.

She tilted her head, then seeing his eyes unfocused, lifted her shirt and bounced in place. The dark blue of her bra cradled her breasts but they still jiggled ever so nicely. "Still with me?"

He blinked and looked as she was bouncing in place. "JESUS!" he coughed, transfixed by them. They were, just like her, perfect. "Uh... yeah. No, I didn't really have any plans. Do... you have any idea what you might want to do?" he asked.

"I'm thinking a hot shower because I have clean under things and can stop going around commando, then we could play a game. There were a couple of board games in the duffle bag." She dropped her shirt and walked over to wrap her arms around him, tucking her head into his chest. "I'm hugging you."

"Yeah. At the risk of looking dumb, I haven't figured that one out either," he said softly as his arms came around her.

"Have you ever done something that just felt... right?" She offered quietly. "I'll stop if you want me to, but I hug you because it feels right and I like it."

"It's probably selfish, but... no. I don't want you to stop," he said softly. He was quiet for a very long time, then softly confessed, "I'll be honest, I... was happy that your chopper got damaged more in that storm. I... didn't know what I was going to do after you left." He paused, then added, "No one's ever gotten under my skin the way you seem to... Even before..."

She hugged him a little tighter, then lifted up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Maybe I was just meant to find you?" She smiled up into his eyes, then kissed his forehead. "I'm glad you like my hugs. Just wait, I'll get you addicted to all things Caitlan, and then you'll want to tie me to the bed and do wicked naughty things to me." She turned, picked up her things, and went into the bathroom to shower.

He watched her go and murmured to himself, "But... I already do..." He sighed and went to sit on the couch, pulling out the book he'd been reading and starting once again.

Her shower took longer this time, then he could hear her cleaning the tub before she came out. She bounded over to put her foot on his lap, her bare leg gleaming in the light, "And he sent me a razor. I'm so happy. Feel it, feel it." she took his hand and put it on the smooth skin. She smelled like vanilla now. "No more hairy bear Caitlan."

He touched it, his hand was rough on her smooth skin. "You weren't a bear before," he observed before gesturing at his face. "But I'm glad it made you happy," he added with a smile.

"I was," she slid her foot over, then straddled his lap tucking herself under his chin. "It was a jungle down there. Thought I was going to have to get the axe for a bit for that bush." She laid her head on his chest. "You can resume reading while you're holding me."

He set the book down. "Rather focus on this," he said, wrapping his arms around her and resting his cheek on the top of her head, closing his eyes and soaking in her soft warmth.

She shifted, wrapping her legs around his waist, and snuggled into his chest. "OK," she closed her eyes to bask in his warmth and how safe she felt in his arms. The rest of the day passed in warmth and comfort with her incessantly seeking out his arms. She got out the board games that were there and taught him to play the ones he didn't know. They talked occasionally about substantial things, but mostly they just enjoyed each other's company.

He cooked up steaks again for dinner that night. This time he actually mashed the potatoes with butter and cooked corn. "Did you want to call your dad and thank him for the... um... razor?" he asked with a small smirk touching the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe later," her nose wrinkled, "It's their anniversary so they went home early to... make tricycle motors... even though the barn's locked down."

"Oh... OH!" he said, his eyes widening in understanding. "Well... I mean... that's a good sign, right? Parents still wanting to... make... tricycle motors? I suppose they've been together a while, yeah? Not as common as it should be, I guess..."

"Yes, but now they're going to start asking about grandchildren and Mom is going to want to talk about wedding details." She trailed off, then shrugged, "But yes, I'm glad they're still happy together."

"Is it... just you?" he asked softly.

"No, I've got four older brothers and a little sister. My sister will graduate high school in the spring. Two of my brothers are in college, the other two went into the Navy. Can you believe that? Of course, now they get pissed when I call them the little seamen."

Kevin began chuckling and then gripped the counter as he bent over laughing. "L-Little... seamen... Oh, God... I haven't heard that in...," he trailed off. Slowly standing back up, his eyes went distant. "In a long time." He blinked several times and seemed to refocus. "Pissing off the Navy was always good fun."

She tilted her head, a soft, bemused smile appearing on her face. "I like your laugh. I'm going to have to figure out ways to entice it out more often."

"Haven't... had a reason to," he said softly, turning to look at her.

"Well now you've got me," she walked over and slid her arms around him. "And I'm hugging you again."

"Yeah... you are. And you're getting me addicted, Caitlan...," he confessed softly. "And I'm not sure how to feel about that."

"Well," she pondered for a moment, "I see two paths forward, first, you tell me to stop hugging you and I would because I'm an obedient good girl." She tilted her head, "Or second, I keep hugging you, and we figure out how to move forward toward a more permanent hug basis."

He was silent for a long moment before he closed his eyes and whispered, "I don't like that first option very much."

"So, we work on the second," she hugged him tighter, tucking her head under his chin. Her hands moved up and down his back in a gentle massage. "Together."

He held her for a long moment before he reached out with one hand to turn the deer steaks. "How do you feel about that? I mean, it seems like your dad is pushing a little ham-handedly. I hope I'm not making you feel trapped in a specific course of action."

"Ahh well... umm..." she trailed off and blushed, "Dad might have heard me calling your name when I was using my special friend. In my defense, you picking up that crate like it weighed absolutely nothing was fucking hot and then I thought about how you could pick me up and pin me to the wall and... so yeah..."

He plated up the food and led her to the table. Poking at his for a long moment, he murmured, "Caitlan, I... I came up here to die. And hopefully not take anyone with me. Now... I don't think I want to anymore but...," he trailed off, and then looked up at her, his eyes haunted, "I'm not sure I know how to live either."

She looked up at him, then reached up to cup his face, her fingers scratched gently through the beard. "So we learn. Life is a process of learning, making mistakes, and trying again. It's hard work. I'll help you, we'll figure it out together."

"You... really want to sign up for this?" he asked softly.

She leaned forward and pressed a soft, tender kiss on his lips. "I already did, Master."

His breath hitched again, his eyes darkening at the word. "And it doesn't bother you that I think you're crazy?" he added.

"No," she smiled at him then sat down to eat dinner, "You think I'm crazy because you don't see your own worth."

He lowered his head, staring at his plate, then shook it. "No... I don't. Maybe once, but...," he trailed off.

"So, we move forward together and figure it out," she smiled at him, "Now eat your dinner. We'll cuddle and read, then go to bed."

He nodded, pondering her words as he ate. They made small talk, but she could sense that he was trying to process so she didn't push. Finally, he got up and stole her plate to wash it with his.

"Hey," she got to her feet and tried to get between him and the sink, "You cooked, I wash."

He smirked at her and used his broad shoulders to 'check' her. "Fast hands...," he murmured with a small smile.

She growled at him, then poked his sides to find ticklish spots. When that didn't work, she huffed, then lifted her shirt and bounced her breasts at him before she turned to walk to the couch. "In the morning, I'm cooking breakfast."

He chuckled. "Is that right?" he asked. "And when I'm asleep on top of you again?" he mused.

"You always go take a shower first, so I'll make breakfast while you're taking a shower," she pointed out logically. "What are you going to do? Tie me to the bed, Master?"

"Tempting. I do have plenty of rope...," he mused seriously.

She giggled, then swatted her butt, making it crack and jiggle before she bounded over to the couch. "Promises, promises..."

"What do you think you're doing, taking my job like that?" he asked, his hand suddenly itching.

"I'll let you make breakfast sometimes," she giggled back, before laying down on the couch. "Or are you wanting a different job?" She pulled the shirt up and swatted the other cheek. He could see her rear jiggle in the yoga pants.

"Well...," he trailed off, now a little unsure. "You said... er... called me...," he trailed off, looking down. Had he misunderstood?

"Stop," she rose to her feet. "We're talking and communicating. Yes, I called you Master. Yes, I know what I'm offering and placing on the table." She swallowed, "You haven't said if that's something you want." She trailed off, "I'm sorry."

He dropped the dishes in the sink and moved to her faster than she would have guessed he could. His arms were around her and his lips were on hers as his mustache and beard tickled at her skin. For long moments he held her like that, the kiss lingering. And when they parted, his eyes were wet again and he breathed simply, "Yes."

She studied his eyes, then melted into his hold and snuggled into his chest. "OK," she murmured. "Yours, Master. When you're ready."

"Just... promise me something, OK?" he said softly.

"What would you like me to promise?"

"Don't... say that, and then take it away. If we do... try this... I don't know that I'm strong enough to survive you leaving," he confessed softly.

"I promise," she stated firmly. "I promise that I'm not going to say this, try this, and then abandon you." She looked up at him, then took his hand and lifted it, wrapping it around her throat. "Yours, Master. For all the rest of our days."

"What are you going to tell your dad?" he asked softly.

"That we're going to have a spring wedding," she responded calmly, "And then we'll figure out logistics for everything else as we go."

He nodded, and tightened his arms around her, not wanting to let her go. He'd been alone for so long and she'd changed everything in so short a time that the thought of going back hurt. Physically hurt. The kind where it feels like someone stuck their hand inside your chest and is squeezing your heart in their fist.

She sensed his need to hold her by the way his grip tightened, "Let's go finish the dishes. I'll wash and you hold me, then we can go cuddle in bed. How does that sound?"

He nodded into her hair and followed her into the kitchen. She washed the dishes, leaning back against him, then dried and put them away. It took longer than normal but she enjoyed his arms around her. Then she led him into the bedroom, she giggled, "You're going to have to let me go if we're going to lay down, or are you going to toss me on the bed and pounce me?"

He pondered that for a long moment, then sighed and let her loose from his arms. "You're still healing," he murmured. "Sometime, though," he offered softly.

"Soon," she agreed. She crawled onto the bed, then sprawled on her back and opened her arms towards him.

He crawled into them, the weeks having robbed him of his hesitance. One arm slid under her and the other over as he held her tightly, nuzzling into her body. Her soft warmth soothed him, made everything better in a way that had nothing to do with changing reality and everything to do with changing him.