Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Dylan Mackenzie belongs to me. Rating: NC-17

Chapter 8. McQueen lay stretched out on a recliner, wearing nothing more than a pair of dark blue swim shorts and his sunglasses. His eyes were closed and he was thinking about the lunch they'd just had, while he waited for Dill to come back with the suntan lotion. He'd never been especially keen on fish, but somehow knowing they truly were freshly caught had increased his appetite, and he'd really enjoyed them. Ty pondered the people they were confined with. He knew that Thelma was going to be a pain in the butt for the entire duration of their trip, but Valentine seemed okay. McQueen smiled to himself - there was something about the boy that was so just so relaxed. Joseph… well, he wasn't sure what to make of him. Nor of the other two women. He suspected if today were anything to go by, that Emily would get all giggly every time he spoke to her. But Valentine's wife Isabella? She looked as though she'd not a thought in that pretty head of hers. Thelma's husband, Floyd, he suspected of feeling the same way Thelma did, but not having the guts to admit it. Ty heard someone sit down next to him. "Colonel?" a soft voice spoke. "You really shouldn't be laying there like that without sunscreen - you're so fair. I brought you some. Shall I rub you with it?" Opening his eyes, his heart sank as he saw the crewmember who'd offered her services yesterday. "No, thank you. My wife has gone to get ours." "Oh, but I could have you all rubbed up nicely by the time she gets back," she smiled at him, her voice low, her intent perfectly clear. "I said no thank you," he snapped, then softened it with, "I'm allergic to most sunscreens, so I have to be careful which I use." "Allergic?" she chuckled. "Oh, I don't think so. An invitro with allergies? You'll have to do better than that." "Okay then," McQueen sat up and took his glasses off, glaring at her, "listen up. I'm not interested. Not in the slightest. Whatever you may have heard about invitros is not true. I'm not interested in anyone other than my wife. Do you understand that? I didn't come here to bed hop or shop around for someone new. I came with my wife. The mother of my children. Get it? Could I make it anymore clear? Now please leave me alone. I don't want you, nor am I likely to." "Has anyone told you how attractive you are when you're angry?" she smiled. McQueen groaned. "As a matter of fact, yes," he told her. "My wife. Remember her? Now please leave me alone." Getting up, she smiled at him. "If you insist, but if you don't want company you shouldn't lay out here looking so damned divine. I'll be around if you want me." She walked off, passing Dill on her way back to him. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, whilst admiring her small, bikini-clad body. She had a brightly coloured sarong wrapped tightly round her hips. "Why? What's the matter?" Dill asked, bemused. "Not getting into mischief already, surely? I saw you chatting up that lovely crew member - just you remember you're married to me" Glaring at her, he flung himself back down on the recliner. "If you must know, she was chatting me up. Wanted to 'rub' me all over. I told her I wasn't interested." "Good boy," Dill chuckled. "But she had a good idea. After all, that's what I intend to do to you right now. So lay still and let me get on with it." Hiking up her sarong, she straddled his thighs, squirted some sunscreen onto her hands, and began to slowly smooth it over his chest. "You know, my lover, these scars look like they're finally fading. This one here around your shoulder especially. How's the mobility there? Any better now?" "Not particularly. I still can't rotate that arm fully. I probably never will be able to." Ty groaned as Dill's hands softly stroked his sun-warmed body. "None of that, mister," she giggled, feeling his body responding to her touch. "I'm rubbing in lotion, not making love to you." "I wish you would, Dill," he whispered. "Not here, Ty, surely?" She looked about nervously. "Yes, here in the sunshine, with the breeze blowing over our bodies. Oh god, I wish I hadn't said blow," he moaned softly. "Definitely not that. Not here," Dill giggled, wriggling herself onto his groin, feeling how aroused he was. "You could say I had a snake bite," Ty chuckled as she wriggled some more. "You are an evil woman," he moaned as she ground herself onto his erection. Looking around, Dill couldn't see a soul in sight. They were alone, for the time being at least. Taking a deep breath, she climbed off him and quickly slipped off her bikini bottom. Tucking them under his buttocks, she climbed back on top of Ty, thanking God for sarongs. "Slip your shorts down," she whispered. "Hurry, before someone comes or I change my mind!" "Oh God, Dill," he groaned, easing himself out of the swim shorts and holding himself steady as she slid down onto him. "Lay still and let me just arrange this sarong," she giggled. Each time she moved, her movement made him gasp. "And be quiet!" Once she had the sarong arranged to her satisfaction, Dill returned to her task of massaging in the sun lotion. Only this time she leant forwards and upwards, sliding herself up and down his length, stopping occasionally to kiss him, trying not to make it obvious what they were doing. "Faster," he pleaded. "Please, Dill." "No. If anyone comes, they'll know what I'm doing. Slowly, slowly," she chided him. McQueen began to move his hips, trying to thrust up into her, moaning as she ground down upon him. His hands reached to fondle her breasts. Desperate for her to ride him hard, he grabbed her and began lifting her up and down, his hands gripping her waist tightly. Dill looked around again in fright. "Stop it, Ty! If someone finds us, they'll think that all that crap about sex-mad tanks is true!" "So what," Ty moaned, his orgasm close now. "They think it anyway. Let's show them what a tank can really do." He began moving her faster, pulling her down onto him more forcefully. "Oh God, Ty," Dill whimpered, as his cock rubbed mercilessly at her clit, forcing her to thrust down onto him as hard and fast as she could. "Good girl," he groaned, slamming himself into her as she clung to his arms for support. "In fact, I think we'll finish this properly," he whispered, holding her tight as he rolled them over so that he was on top of her, and began to pump hard inside her. Wrapping her legs around him, Dill allowed herself to succumb, not caring if anyone caught them. This was a honeymoon cruise after all. A matter of minutes later she came, her whole body shuddering as he continued his assault upon it, pounding into her so hard and fast that once her thoughts were again coherent she was convinced he'd break the recliner. With a last few thrusts he gasped loudly, burying his head in her neck as he came. "Dill," he whispered. "I love you so much. Let's go back to our cabin and do it again." "Control yourself," she giggled. "Or they really will think you're sex mad!" "I really don't care what any of them thinks," Ty whispered, covering her throat and face with kisses. "But I do," she sighed, as his kisses extended further down her body to her breasts. "Already that Thelma hates you. I don't want this time together to be spoiled." "Then you'd better not put on too many shows like that one!" a voice spat from close by. "But then, I guess what else can we expect from a filthy tank and its whore!" Lifting his head, McQueen saw Thelma standing there. "You didn't have to stand there and watch. Getting your rocks off, were you? Why don't you go get Floyd to do the same to you?" He bent his head back to kiss Dill. "Come on, Dill. Let's go play some more." Getting up, Ty slipped his shorts back up, hiding his semi-hard cock from view, and picked up Dill's bikini bottom. Holding out a hand to Dill, he turned to Thelma. "Wanna come and watch again, see what you're missing?" He winked at her as he pulled Dill away with him and back to their cabin. "What the hell are you on?" Dill cried. "I can't believe you just said that! What if she'd said yes? Asked to join in?" "She wouldn't. You know that," Ty grinned. "Well, I would have said I'd never do what we just did," Dill told him as he pulled her through their cabin door. "Blame Hilary," he smirked. "She keeps telling me that I shouldn't be afraid of saying what I think. That after everything I've achieved, I deserve the right to speak my mind." McQueen pulled Dill to him, his hand reaching under her sarong to her behind. "She insists that my wife loves me, and isn't going to leave me if I say something she doesn't like." "I've been telling you that for so long," Dill groaned as he kneaded her bottom. "Shame you never listened to me." "I did, but for a long time I thought you were telling me what I wanted to hear. We've talked about this, Dill, when Izzy was born. But when Hilary said it to me," he shrugged, "I don't know, but I saw she was right. She pointed out to me all the things that show how much you love me… how committed you are to me. She shoved it right in my face and told me to open my eyes and smell the coffee." Ty paused, thinking. "Or it might have been roses." "So the past three weeks talking about you and me and our relationship have been worthwhile then," Dill smiled. "Now then, mister, are we going to stand here all day or are we going to amuse ourselves some more?" "Oh, I think we'll amuse ourselves, don't you?" Ty winked, pulling her sarong off as he pulled her to the bed. Chuckling, she reached out to the bedside cabinet. "Come on, flyboy, get naked," she giggled. "I want to see what some of these things in this cupboard do!" Slipping his swim shorts off, Ty stretched out on the bed. "What's your fancy?" he sniggered. "Oh, I think Cock Rub," she giggled. "Seeing as how you look good and ready for it." Taking the tub, Dill opened it and sniffed. "I hope you're not allergic to it," she said with a frown, "because I'm about to smear this up and down all over your lovely, hot cock!" "Smear away," he groaned as she dipped her fingers in and then began to stroke him up and down. "Oh my," Ty sighed. "It tingles." "Good tingles or bad tingles?" Dill asked, peering closely at his penis as she stroked him. "You're not going red or anything. Well, not more than usual anyway." "Oh god!" he moaned. "Your breath… it makes it tingle more!" "What, this?" Dill whispered, blowing softly across the tip of his twitching cock. "Uh huh," he groaned, twisting under her hand. "What about this?" she giggled, as her tongue very slowly licked up his length. Ty couldn't even speak at that point - he just clutched at her and dragged her upwards, kissing her hungrily. "I guess it feels pretty good then, does it?" Dill laughed when he'd released her. "Oh yes," he shivered, as she softly blew on him again. "Come here. I need to feel what it feels like inside you." "Easily remedied," she chuckled, straddling him and slowly sliding down him, rising up as he bucked upwards to meet her. "No Dill," Ty gasped. "I'm on top. I have to really feel this - it's so intense." She laughed as he flipped them over, and wrapping his hands under her shoulders, thrust himself forcefully into her. He stopped for a moment to plunge his tongue into her mouth, hungrily searching for hers, sucking on it and tasting her to the full, before starting to pound into her. Slowly at first, matching his thrusts to those of his tongue, Ty finally settled for sucking at Dill's collarbone as he lost himself in the hard fast rhythm he'd set, spurred on by the intensity of feeling the rub had given him. Dill clung to him as though her life depended on it, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in as close as she could. She trailed soft kisses along his shoulders and neck, nibbling on his ear as his head sank into her shoulder. She could hear Ty's soft groans as his body began to tremble, his orgasm approaching fast. He clung to her harder, his body mindlessly pumping into her with all his might, before with a final hard thrust he came, exploding inside her forcefully, filling her with his hot fluids. Ty sank onto Dill, his chest heaving and his breath shallow. "We have got to buy some of that for using at home!" he whispered, as he rolled off her and moved down her body to lick her clean. Sucking and nibbling at her, he slid two fingers inside her, searching for just the right spot to get her bucking into his face. Once she was writhing under his ministrations, he slid his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue. Immediately her body began to buck as her hands pressed his face into her, grinding herself against him. He worked her hard, determined to bring her to orgasm at least twice before he rested. Ty wanted her to know that he appreciated what she'd done out on the deck. He knew she hadn't really been comfortable with it, but had done it for him, for his pleasure. Just lately, he thought, she'd been concentrating on making him feel good and he'd not reciprocated. Now was his chance to rectify that. Ty's hands began to softly stroke Dill's thighs, dancing up and down her legs as she shuddered underneath him, and he felt her come onto his face. Licking her clean, he kissed his way up her body, gently stroking and kissing her trembling limbs, until he reached her breasts. Ty smiled, seeing that she still wore her bikini top. Gently removing it, he began to lick her nipples, sucking on each one in turn, bringing them to hardened nubs before he began to nibble his way along her collarbone, licking and kissing along it and up her throat to her mouth. Softly he pressed his lips to hers, waiting until Dill opened her eyes and looked at him, before he gently pushed his tongue between her parted lips. He smiled as she sighed into his mouth, moaning at the feel of his hands stroking her skin, running up and down her hot flushed body, dancing lightly between her thighs, brushing against her hot core. "No more," she pleaded, exhausted. "Once more, my love," he whispered softly into her ear. "For you, once more." "Inside me then," she sobbed, as his fingers began to stroke her clit. "Roll over," he said, his voice hoarse with desire. Dill rolled over and got up onto all fours, reaching behind her to massage his testicles as he knelt behind her, holding tightly to her hips. Ty slumped against her as she fondled him to hardness, his breathing shallow in her ear. Pulling himself upright, Ty pushed her hand away and readied himself to slide inside her moist depths, before changing his mind and pulling away from her. Leaning to the side of the bed, he rummaged in the cabinet. "Come on, flyboy," Dill whispered. "What are you waiting for, Christmas?" "No," he whispered. "This." She heard it before she felt it, cool and smooth. Ty slid a vibrator inside her and turned the speed up a notch. "Oh my," she groaned. "That wasn't in there earlier." "I asked the steward for one," Ty whispered. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He slid himself up and down on her behind as he slid the vibrator in and out of her, speeding it up occasionally to make her push backwards onto it. "Oh, yes," she moaned as he increased the speed. "I'm going to come!" Removing the vibrator, Ty slid himself deep inside her and thrust home until she screamed with the intensity of her orgasm, collapsing onto the pillows of the bed, dragging him and his still hard cock with her. He fucked her as she lay flat on her stomach, hips bucking backwards to meet him, cries smothered by the pillow, as once again she climbed to another orgasm. This time her trembling body and clenching muscles dragged him along with her, and he fell exhausted onto her back. They lay, he on her back, until they both began to snore softly and he rolled onto his back, an arm reaching for her in his sleep. Automatically her body responded, and she turned over and snuggled in his arms, one hand reaching to rest possessively on his softened penis. They slept, not noticing when the yacht dropped anchor, readying to prepare for dinner. ~~~~~~~~~~ They were woken by the steward knocking at the door. "Dinner will be served in half an hour!" he called. Ty rolled off the bed and went to the door. Standing behind it as he opened it, he peered around the edge. "Thanks," he yawned, as the steward grinned at him and left. Closing the door, Ty stood and looked at Dill still asleep on the bed, her mouth moving as she mumbled in her sleep. He smiled; he'd been frightened that he was going to lose her just a few days ago. Her jealousy of Hilary he really hadn't understood until Hilary had explained it to him. But it had been the fact that she'd not wanted to make love with him, claiming night after night that she had a terrible headache, and finally resorting to pretending she had her period, that had really scared him. He walked to the bed to wake her up, gently stroking her back and kissing her shoulders. "Dill," he whispered. "You need to wake up. We need to shower before we go have dinner." "Mmmmm…what are you doing? Surely you're not ready to go again? God, Ty, you're insatiable," Dill smiled, reaching out to stroke his face. "No, no, my hot little elf," he smiled. "The steward just knocked. Dinner's almost ready. Come on, sleepyhead - we need to shower and get dressed." Ty lifted Dill in his arms, kissing her gently. "Oh my," she giggled. "Am I glad I married a big, strong marine!" Laughing, he carried her into the bathroom, stood her in the shower, and turning the water on, proceeded to wash her from top to toe before climbing in with her and letting her do the same for him. ~~~~~~~~~~ They were late for dinner. The chatter stopped as soon as they walked hand in hand into the dining room, all eyes instantly on them. From the way in which Emily, at least, coloured, McQueen knew that Thelma had wasted no time in filling the others in on what she'd seen. Smiling at them, he sat down, Dill facing him across the table. "So, how is everyone this evening?" Ty asked. "What are we having for dinner? Does anyone know? I'm starved." "From what we've heard, I'm hardly surprised," Valentine smiled at him. "Been talking to Thelma here, have you?" Ty smiled back. "Did you do as I said, Thelma?" he asked her. "Did you get Floyd to show you a good time? Or do you just get your kicks from watching other people?" "Ty!" Dill cried, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Stop it!" "Oh, it's alright, Dill. After all, I'm just a filthy, sex-mad tank who doesn't know any better. That's right, isn't it, Floyd?" Ty asked, his blue eyes twinkling with delight at the shocked faces around the table. "What are you complaining for, Dill? It's not like I didn't show you a good time this afternoon." He winked. Dill stared at him. "Stop it," she whispered. "Oh, don't be like that," Ty sighed exaggeratedly, enjoying himself, not realising that he'd upset her. "After all, it's what everyone else here was thinking. Wasn't it?" He turned to glare at them all. "Shall I arrange a viewing so you can all watch next time? You could give me marks out of ten for style and technique!" Dill stood up, tears in her eyes, and ran from the table horrified at his behaviour. "I think, TC, that you owe your wife an apology," Valentine told him, frowning. "And please don't judge us all by the actions of one foolish woman." "Who are you calling foolish?" Floyd demanded. "I'll have you know that Thelma was most upset by what she witnessed this afternoon!" "So upset that she couldn't wait to tell us all about it!" Valentine snapped at him. "In great detail and with much relish." "I'm not sitting here to be insulted by you!" Thelma cried. "It's bad enough we're trapped here with this disgusting, depraved tank and his whore, without tank sympathisers too!" "Come on Thelma," Floyd said, taking her arm. "We'll eat in our cabin tonight." They strode off angrily. McQueen sat slumped in his chair. He really didn't know what had possessed him to say such things. And to make matters worse, Valentine was right. He owed Dill a huge apology. He hadn't meant to upset her. "Damn," he muttered. "Regretting it already, are we?" Valentine asked. "What on earth possessed you?" McQueen glared at him. "Just now, or this afternoon?" "Now. You don't seem the type to be so confrontational. Few invitros are." "The type?" McQueen sneered, still angry at himself for his words to Dill. "And just what would you know about me?" "Well, I know you're Colonel TC McQueen, commanding officer of the 58th squadron, the Wildcards. I know you single-handedly took out that expert chig - they one they all called Chiggy von Richthofen. I know you're the last of the Angry Angels, and are usually seen in Angel black. Shall I go on?" "How the hell do you know all that?" McQueen asked him, angry at what he saw as an invasion into his life. "I checked you out on the net. Though I must say nowhere did it say you were married. Divorced, yes, but married, no," Valentine grinned at McQueen. "Though I guess if you just got married it'll take a while to update." "We've been married two and a half years," McQueen told him resignedly. "They're slow updating. Bet they left the kids out too." Valentines eyes lit up. "You have children?" "We do." McQueen eyed him warily. "Two boys and a girl." "In two years!" Emily exclaimed, blushing furiously. "Sorry," she whispered. "The boys are twins," McQueen smiled. "And Dill has a thing for babies." "For you, more likely, from what we heard!" Valentine chortled, flinching as his wife hit him on the arm. "Hey! I'm telling the man the truth." "Dare I ask what she said," McQueen said wearily. Suddenly he no longer wanted food. All he could think about was that he'd upset Dill, and now he felt awful. He'd thought she would play along, but instead he'd made her cry. "Oh, I think you can imagine," Valentine chuckled. "You know the sort of thing… 'And there she was, that whore of his, riding him for all the world to see, shameless hussy….' And then the inevitable… 'And afterwards he just tucked himself away like it was nothing, and insulted me..'. So what did you say to her?" "I asked her if she'd enjoyed it, and told her to go get Floyd to give her some," McQueen grinned. "And then I asked if she wanted to come back with us to our cabin and watch some more." "You didn't!" Valentine crowed. "Oh my - I can just see her face now, all pinched like she'd been sucking a lemon." At that, McQueen laughed too. "It was kind of funny," he admitted. "I'd better go apologise to Dill," he said, standing up. "Maybe I can get her to come back and have some dinner." "Please try. I'd like to meet her. Sorry, we'd like to meet her," he smiled, as again his wife hit him. "Excuse Isabella, please. She has little hearing and has to read lips. She can talk but she's self conscious about it, so that's why she's not said a word since we arrived. I drive her to distraction sometimes, and why she agreed to marry me I'll never know. But I'm very glad that she did." He leaned across to kiss her. "Yes, I'm definitely delighted that she did." With a smile, McQueen went to find Dill. ~~~~~~~ He found her up on the deck, sitting hunched up on a recliner, her arms wrapped around her knees, tears streaming down her face. She turned away from him as he sat down and reached out to her. "I'm sorry Dill," Ty whispered. "I thought you'd realise I wasn't serious." "Why did you say that?" she asked quietly, her voice muffled as she still sat huddled up. "Why did you say that to me?" "I'm sorry, Dill. Truly, I never meant to hurt you. And I thought you'd play along." "Play along?" she whispered, rubbing at her eyes. McQueen tried to hold her, but she pulled away. He sat back with a sigh. "I saw the way they looked at us… the way they stopped talking when we walked in, and hell, I don't know, I just suddenly thought fuck'em, fuck'em all. I'm sick and tired of keeping my mouth shut and turning the other cheek. I've worked hard to get where I am today. I've been to hell and back. Why should I have to keep quiet? How much longer before I'm shown the respect I deserve? How much harder do I have to work?" "You're respected," Dill said quietly. "No. Colonel McQueen, C.O. of the Wildcards, is respected. Hell yes. He's respected enough that the Chiefs of Staff ask his opinion and listen to it, because he knows his stuff. But me? Tyrus McQueen, tank? What respect do I get? None. Not a fucking bit. I get snide comments and nasty looks, and I'm sick to fucking death of it!" She turned to look at him. "You have my respect. And the respect of my mother, the children, Glen, Rhonda, and the 58th. Or at least you had my respect." "And I don't have it now?" Ty whispered. "It's teetering on the edge," she told him. "How could you say that? How could you behave like that? How many times have you told me to let it go?" "I don't know." He slumped back onto the recliner and stared up at the darkening sky. "The woman just annoys me. That damn self-righteous smirk, and that bloody husband who pretends he disagrees with her, but it's as plain as the nose on his fat, ugly face he doesn't!" "Well, you have to be tolerant, Ty," Dill told him, coming to sit next to him. "I'm sick of being tolerant," he told her quietly. "Why is it always us tanks that have to be tolerant? Why the hell can't someone else be for once?" McQueen smiled as he felt Dill's hand slip into his. "Don't lower yourself to her level, Ty," she whispered. "You're so much better than that. That's why you've achieved so much. Because you are better. A hell of a lot better that a lot of natural borns." "How is it that I came out here to grovel at your feet in apology, and beg you to come back and have some dinner, and you end up trying to make me feel better?" he chuckled, his heart pounding with relief as she finally let him hug her. "Damned if I know," Dill smiled. "But a bit of grovelling wouldn't go amiss." Ty slipped off the recliner and knelt at her feet. Reaching out, he took her hands in his. "Dylan McQueen," he grinned, "I love saying that. Dylan McQueen, this colonel begs to make atonement for the hideous crime he has committed against you. This colonel wishes you to know that he loves you, he worships you, and he idolises you. This colonel will do whatever you ask of him, up to and including giving his life for you and your children. This colonel begs to be able to hold you and kiss you and show you how sorry he is." "But does the colonel really mean it?" Dill smiled, looking straight into his eyes. "Or is the colonel just saying what he thinks his wife wants to hear?" "This colonel means every word," Ty whispered. "I swear that this colonel means it. Especially the part about wanting to kiss you." He leant forward, and taking her in his arms, softly touched his lips to hers. "This colonel believes he has never tasted anyone as good as you." "The colonel tastes pretty fine to me too," she sighed, as he kissed her again. "But has this colonel persuaded you to come back and have dinner with the others?" "I think so," she smiled. "I think another kiss or four might help." "It would give this colonel great pleasure to oblige," he laughed, folding her completely in his arms and covering her face with kisses, before standing and pulling her to her feet and leading her back to the dining room. "This colonel's stomach is growling. Come on before they eat it all." ~~~~~~~~ Later that night they lay in bed watching a movie, Dill resting her head on Ty's bare chest, absently stroking his stomach while he ate popcorn. "What the hell are we watching?" he asked. "Are there any films in that book that aren't more than 50 years old?" "It's called 'Message in a Bottle', " she told him. "It's a really lovely film. Look," she pointed at the screen on the wall in front of them, "he still loves his dead wife so much he's kept all her art things just as they were." "That's creepy," Ty told her, shuddering. "I hope you don't do that to my stuff when I die!" "You have the least amount of 'stuff' than anyone I have ever met," she chuckled. "Some books, your photos, and those lovely wall hangings you made. What else?" "My one legged samurai," he told her, pretending to be affronted. "My bonsais!" "Your medals." "My 127th kit." "Your …." Dill hesitated, thinking. "Picture of WC Fields," Ty prompted. "So okay, I guess it's not a lot, but don't you go getting creepy with it." "Don't you go getting dead!" she chuckled. "We have babies waiting to be born." "Oh god, more?" he groaned. "Oh yes. At least another 4 or 5 I think, don't you?" she teased. "Aren't the three we have more than enough trouble?" he grinned. "Are you saying my babies are a bother?" Dill asked, tickling him. "No, no bother. No bother at all!" Ty laughed, wriggling away from her. "Stop it and watch your movie!" "How can I when my pillow keeps wriggling!" Dill giggled. "Well, if you would just keep your hands to yourself, elf, I wouldn't need to wriggle, would I?" "Well, if you don't want me to touch you…" Dill murmured, teasing him. "Touch me! Touch me!" Ty chuckled. "Where?" she whispered. "Here," he said, his voice low and husky. Dill looked up to see him with a finger on his lips. "As you wish," she smiled, kissing him. "Here," his finger moved to his forehead. She kissed his forehead. "Here." The finger moved to his chin, followed by her lips. "Here." His finger moved to his chest. Dill's mouth followed wherever his finger pointed - his nipples, his elbows, his stomach - finally working his way down to his groin, where throwing back the covers, she followed the trail of his finger down to the tip of his soft cock, nestling in the curls of his soft blonde hair. As her kisses turned to licks, Ty sighed and pulled her away. "No, Dill, not tonight. Let's just enjoy this terrible movie and cuddle. Is that okay?" She looked up at him. "Are you sure?" He nodded. "I just need a cuddle tonight." "But you led me down there," she smiled softly. "I know, but I'm feeling a little… well, I guess I just want to be held by my wife. I want to know she loves me," Ty whispered. "That's okay," Dill smiled. "We all need a cuddle sometimes. And I'd guess that after your performance before dinner, and the obviousness of those women salivating over you, you're feeling rather vulnerable. I do love you, Ty. I love you so much it hurts." Dill scooted up the bed as Ty wriggled down and settled in her arms, his head resting against her breast. "Valentine and his wife seem very nice," Dill said, stroking his hair. "He's very funny. He made me laugh an awful lot, but she didn't say a word all night. She just smiled." "She's deaf. She can speak, but her speech isn't good and she's self conscious about it." he said, nuzzling against her. "And that Emily. 'Oh, TC, tell us about the war', and 'Oh that's so funny, TC'. She was flirting with you right under everyone's nose! What with her and that woman who was serving us whispering sweet nothings in your ear every five minutes, should I be jealous?" Dill teased. "Emily's husband is a weird one though. He kept staring at me the whole time." "Now that I noticed," Ty whispered, licking her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. Dill moaned softly at the sensations he caused, her fingers stroking down his neck towards his navel, before his hand reached up to stop her. "Why do you still have milk?" he asked. "Shouldn't it stop now you're not feeding?" "Because, my lover, I am still feeding. In fact, my milk production has increased." At his confused look, Dill grinned. "I'm feeding you!" "Sorry," he whispered, blushing. "Don't be. I'll miss it when you leave." Now feeling self conscious, Ty moved his head from her breast and rested it on her shoulder. "I wonder why Joseph was staring at you through dinner" "Maybe he finds me irresistible and is wondering if you'd like to swap," Dill giggled gleefully. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Emily would fawn over you and hang on your every word." "And what would you be doing?" Ty asked, his fingers gently stroking her breasts. "Him!" Dill squeaked as he pinched a nipple. "I'm keeping you forever. You promised. Is this film over yet? I'm tired." Ty settled himself to watch the rest of the movie, laughing when Dill tried to hide the fact that she was crying at the ending. "You old softy, I know you're crying. Here, wipe your eyes," he grinned, getting up and fetching a box of tissues. Snuggling back into bed, this time he held her in his arms. "What am I going to do with you? " "And who once laughed so loud he almost wet himself," Dill teased. "I did not. I just happened to need a pee, that's all," Ty told her indignantly "You ran for the bathroom!" she laughed. "Well, it was funny," he smiled. "And you'd seen it how many times? 20? 30?" Dill giggled. "And yet there you were, giggling like a girl!" "I like W.C. Fields!" Ty protested. "I know you do, my lover," she smiled. "That's why I hunted high and low to get you a copy of that film. And yes I know I didn't get them all, but you have a few to take back with you." "Thank you Dill," he whispered. "That was a really thoughtful gift." "It was my pleasure. I love seeing you get all excited about opening presents. I wish that just once we could spend Christmas together with the children." "So do I. I've never had a proper Christmas. It wasn't bothered with in the mines; it was just a day we didn't have to work. And then the rest have been spent with the corps," Ty told her. "What about when you were married?" "Amy went to her parents. I wasn't invited, so I spent it in the Officers' Mess," he said matter of factly. "That's awful! How could she do that to you?" Dill was horrified. "Even my mother wouldn't have done that." "I guess we both knew our marriage was a disaster by then, so I didn't really care." "All the more reason for you to put in for leave now. You must come home for Christmas with the children, Ty, while they're still little." Dill sighed. "You've missed so much of their childhood already, and to never be there for Christmas would be awful." "I know," he yawned. "Oh darling, if I had you home I'd show you a proper Christmas, with all the trimmings." "One day," Ty sighed. "Something to look forward to." He wriggled himself around until once again he lay in her arms, his head resting on her breast. "Can we turn out the lights and go to sleep now, please?" "Of course, my lover," Dill smiled, stroking his head once again. She reached for the lamp and switched it off, smiling at the way in which Ty immediately began to suckle on her, his mouth firmly clamped around her nipple. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A few days later Dill pottered about in their cabin. Ty had been enticed away by the promise of being taught to fish by a crewmember who'd seen him watching them as they caught the fish for lunch each day. Still naked from the shower, she was singing softly to herself when there was a tap at the door. Pulling on a robe, Dill opened the door to find Joseph standing there. "Can I help you?" she smiled. "If you're looking for Ty, he's fishing off the pointy end, I believe." "I came to see you," Joseph told her, pushing into the room. "Oh," she whispered, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, very aware that she wore nothing under the robe. "I wanted to ask you something," he said, wandering around the room, picking things up to look briefly at them before putting them down again. "I'm quite busy. Couldn't it have waited until lunch?" Dill asked, hugging the robe as close as she could. "No, not really," he said, turning to face her. "Why did you marry a tank? Did he pay you to? Was he looking for an air of respectability?" "I beg your pardon?" Dill asked, not quite believing what she was hearing. "Did he pay you to marry him so that he'd be accepted in polite society?" "No, he damn well did not!" Dill fumed. "I married him because I love him! Get out!" "You love him? I find that strange. After all, how can you be sure that he's not simply using you? Everyone knows tanks don't have feelings like the rest of us. After all, they're not even human," he said in a cool, calm voice. "Get out, and get out now!" Dill yelled at him. "How dare you come in here and say things like that! Get out before I throw you out!" "A tiny thing like you? I don't think so," Joseph smiled nastily. "Did you get a cabinet full of toys too?" he asked, bending down to take a look. "I see that you did." He stood up, the handcuffs in his hand. "Shall we have a little fun? After all, if you'll do it with a tank you'll do it with anyone, surely?" Dill stood rooted to the spot, unable to fully believe her own ears. She hadn't expected to find one of the worse kinds of bigots here - someone who quite obviously felt that invitro's were the lowest of the low, and therefore anyone who associated with them was also worthless. She only moved as he reached to grab her arm, snapping the cuff on one wrist. "No!" she cried. "There is no way in hell I'm doing anything with you!" "That's okay," Joseph grinned. "I think I can manage all by myself." He reached for her other arm, but she pulled away, running for the door. Grinning, he followed her. "Come on now, Dill. It is Dill he calls you, isn't it? Don't be like that. What's a little fun between friends?" "Get off me!" Dill screamed as he grabbed her, and reached again to cuff her hands together. "It's no good screaming. These cabins are sound proofed." Joseph smiled toothily at her horrified look. "You mean you didn't know? Been holding back, have you? Well, we can change that, can't we?" All the while Dill had been struggling with him, desperately trying to get free enough to hit him, telling herself that, yes, he was bigger than her, but then so was Ty, and she'd knocked him off his feet. Finally she managed to wriggle under his arm, her robe falling open as she did so, and stepped back to take a swing at him. "Oh, very nice," he smiled. "I can see why he likes you. So wholesome looking. Shame about the scar though." Not caring about her robe, Dill swung for him. Joseph laughed and dodged her easily, but the knee she aimed at his groin found its mark. As he doubled over, her second punch took him squarely on the jaw, knocking him to his knees. Another foot to the groin and he was on his back, while she held him down with her foot. "Get out of my cabin!" she growled at him. "keep away from me and my husband for the rest of this trip. And if you so much as speak to me again, I swear that next time I'll do a whole lot more damage!" After a final kick in the ribs, she opened the door. "Now out!" Once he'd left, Dill sat on the edge of the bed and began to shake, her whole body shuddering. She climbed onto the bed, pulling her robe around her, and curled into a ball as she fought to keep herself from crying. Eventually the shakes subsided and she drifted off to sleep. McQueen found her still curled up when he came back, full of childish delight at actually having caught a fish. "Dill?" he called as he opened the door. "I caught a fish! Only one, mind you, and not very big, but a fish none the less. They said they'd cook it for me for lunch!" Ty was smiling broadly, feeling pleased with himself. On seeing her curled up on the bed, he sat on the edge and gently stroked her back, leaning in to kiss the back of her neck. "Hey Dill, are you asleep?" he whispered. "I was until some hulking great yob came stomping in here," she smiled at him, as she rolled onto her back. "Sorry," he grinned. "But I caught a fish!" "That's my clever boy," Dill smiled, reaching up to stroke his face. Ty grabbed her hand, kissing the palm. "Why do you have the handcuffs on?" he asked, pushing the sleeve of her robe up. "Ummm…." She thought for a moment. "I was seeing if they fitted?" Ty reached for her other arm, and then rechecked both. "You have bruises on your arms, Dill. Where did you get them? They weren't there earlier, and I know I didn't do them. They're finger bruises." "You must have done them," Dill told him, trying to get her arms away from him. "I need a shower." McQueen watched as she found the key and undid the cuffs, before grinning at him and going into the bathroom. He knew she was lying to him. It was something she did so rarely that she was bad at it. Ty followed her into the bathroom, observing her as she showered. He could see other small bruises too, and realised she'd had a fight with someone. Judging by the cuffs, he could guess what it had been about. His anger grew as he watched her scrubbing herself ruthlessly, and he prayed that it hadn't got that far. The thought that it might have made his anger murderous. "Who was it Dill?" he asked quietly, noticing that she jumped when he spoke. "Who was what?" she tried. "Don't do this," he told her. "You have bruises you didn't have earlier, you were wearing handcuffs on one wrist, and now you're scrubbing the flesh off your body. I recognise the signs, Dill, because I've been there. Did he rape you?" "Rape me? What are you talking about? I told you - you made the bruises this morning. I tried the cuffs to see if they fitted…" "And pigs just did a fly past!" he yelled, his anger now to the fore. "Tell me who did it!" Dill stopped scrubbing and looked at him. "It doesn't matter, Ty. He didn't do anything, I swear. And I threw him out. Leave it, please." "Leave it!" McQueen yelled, jumping up and grabbing her, holding her so close that she feared he'd suffocate her. "Some bastard assaults my wife and you want me to leave it? Tell me who it was." "No, you'll do something stupid," she said, her voice low. "I'll figure it out myself then," he told her, picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom, laying her down on the bed and tucking her up under the covers. "It wasn't Valentine - he was with me. I doubt it was Floyd, though it's possible. The steward? He's a weirdo." "The steward?" Dill almost laughed. "I think he's more interested in you than he is me." "That leaves Joseph, who's been staring at you for days." McQueen jumped up. "I'll kill him!" "Ty, please?" she pleaded. "I swear he didn't rape me. If he had, I would have told you. He tried it on, I fought him off, and I don't think he'll be coming near us again. Please, Ty, leave it." "I'm sorry, Dill, I can't," Ty fumed. "Any more than you could if the situation was reversed." He stood up and headed for the door. "Ty!" Dill called after him. He turned to look at her. "Don't do anything - anything that might put your career at risk. I mean it!" she begged him, knowing that he'd do whatever he damn well pleased. He simply stared at her, and turning, left the cabin. McQueen found Joseph stretched out next to Emily on a recliner. "You bastard!" he growled. "Stay away from my wife. If you so much as look at her, I swear I'll kill you!" Joseph lowered his sunglasses. "Why would I want to go anywhere near your wife? I have a perfectly good one of my own," he smiled nastily. "Because you're a stinking, slimy, lump of chig spooge who can't keep his hands off other people's wives!" McQueen yelled at him. McQueen was delighted to see that Dill had given him one hell of a black eye. Way to go, Dill, he thought. "Oh, for god's sake, don't be overly dramatic," Joseph sneered. "After all, a piece of trash like that can be bought anywhere. Why should here be any different?" McQueen just stood and stared at him, looking from him to Emily, who hadn't moved a muscle. "You thought she'd want you?" "My dear tank, open your eyes. Only one sort of woman goes with a tank - one who's desperate because no other man wants her. Don't let all that clap trap about love fool you." McQueen lost his temper. Grabbing Joseph bodily, he dragged him out of the recliner and hurled him over the edge of the yacht, watching as he dropped into the sea. "And if he tries it again, I'll weight him down!" he told Emily, before stomping off back to Dill. "And they say tanks are sexually depraved!" he muttered. ~~~~~~~~~~ Previous : Part Seven Next : Part Nine Geek © 2005