Dragon Clans B. 01

Millie heard the helicopter as it swooped over the roof, coming in low to land at the pad outside.

She had only been back for about a half an hour herself.

.........

When Ian told her that Valerie was in an "accident" Millie called the airfield immediately.

The trip to the hospital had only taken about 20 minutes, upon arriving she was taken directly to Michael and Valerie.

"How are they doing," Millie asked quietly to the worried looking woman standing between the beds.

Tera looked up as the woman walked into the room.

"Michael is in a coma, Valerie is...lost, I think," Tera answered.

Millie walked over to Tera, putting a comforting arm around the young woman, surprised by the tenderness and pain she expressed for the people who lay on either side of her.

"My name is Millie, I'm Valerie's aunt, is there anything I can do for you," she asked.

"It has been a long day, I only met Michael about a week ago; Valerie...on a country road a few hours ago in the middle of a fire fight. Michael was...called to save her, he, he...," Tera paused; Millie could feel the tension in the young woman and pulled her a little closer.

"...saved us, jumped in front of us, took 7 bullets, shielded us," Tera stopped, hiding her face in her hands, trying to come to grips with being the saved instead of the savior.

"It will be alright," Millie told her, giving her a small hug before moving over to Valerie.

Sitting on the bed her hand moving to the coiled form of Valerie, Millie could feel the pain radiating off the young woman.

Bending over her, pulling her into her arms, gently rocking her she whispered in her ear.

"It will be alright Val, Michael will be fine, you be strong now, everything will be ok," she said to the young woman, feeling Valerie pull closer to her, Millie willed some of her own energy and strength be transferred to her.

After holding and comforting Valerie for sometime, Millie stood up and stretched, Tera took her place at Valerie's side as Millie walked over to Michael.

'Michael,' she thought, looking down at his pale face, a thousand images of it, from the past 20 years, flitting through her mind.

She reached out, gently caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers. Her eyes played over the red stained bandages across his torso.

'So much pain; was it best to bring you here, to start you on a road you have no choice but to follow, would it have been best to simply let life have it's way,' she thought.

Her eyes closed as her hand played lightly over his chest, she felt a brief warmth as her fingertips moved over the bandages. Yes he would recover.

She saw Nigel pass before the small window in the door. "Excuse me for a moment Tera," she said as she moved out of the room

"Ian will be heading back to the castle within the hour," Nigel said to her in the hallway.

"Thank you Nigel, I should stay here until Michael's status changes, Valerie is taking it very hard, I should be here for her," Millie said, accepting Nigel's warm hug.

"Best you are at the castle for Ian, it has been a very...hard evening for him," Nigel said to her in hushed tones.

Millie looked at her old friend, saw a shadow of deep concern in his normally calm cool blue eyes.

"I'll head back now, thank you Nigel, watch over Val, she is strong but...young, she is not use to this kind of thing," Millie said giving Nigel a brief hug and, with one last look through the window into the room at Valerie, she made for the stairs and the helicopter waiting above.

............

Pulling on her jacket Millie stepped into the cool evening, the sun had set about an hour ago; she was glad that Ian was home.

The floodlights illuminated the black helicopter as the rotor wound down.

The doors opened and men began to filter out. She saw Ian in the front seat, saw him looking over at the pilot then step out of the helicopter.

The men milled around, waiting for Ian.

"I thank you men for your help today, I know it was not something you were expecting when you signed on," Ian said with a sigh. His hands raised, fingers slowly sliding through his hair, he could feel the caked, dried blood break apart as his fingers slid through them.

"Please follow Paul," he said, gesturing to the pilot who just stepped out of the helicopter after finishing the shut down.

"We have a billet for a full squad, hot showers, clean clothes and hot meals, please stay here tonight and we will get you back to London tomorrow. Again...thank you." Ian finished as he turned, slowly walking towards the castle.

"Ok guys, follow me, lets get you cleaned up and debriefed, Nigel should be here within the hour," Paul said to the weary looking group as he motioned towards the low building to the right of the helipad.

Millie paused as she saw Ian turn from the men and start to walk in her direction.

As he got closer she became more and more frightened.

While the man closing on her looked like Ian, the visage before her when he came to a stop was no one she had ever seen.

The look of pure anguish on his face broke her heart, the dried blood that was splattered over him from hair to boot provided a glimpse of him and his world she had never imagined.

Ian stared at Millie with flat lifeless eyes for a moment, the last vestiges of his rage and vengeance finally slipping away.

He blinked a few times, watching the play of light in her hair, the concerned look on her face.

He reached out a tentative hand; he watched it go, as it lifted from his side, it came into bright focus under the glare of the lights.

Caked with blood, the dark maroon slashes contrasting by the vivid white of his unblemished skin, Ian paused, not sure anyone would want to touch any part of him again.

Ian looked up, expecting to see Millie cringe away, he was ready to pull back his hand, apologize.

What he found was love and solace in her eyes, pain for what he had been through as he felt her hand slip within his.

Ian's eyes softened, his body released his last bit of energy as he slowly sunk to his knees, wrapping his arms around Millie, the tears flowing freely as he purged his guilt.

In that moment he understood; understood just what he faced, what would be required to win and knowing that he was simply...not equipped to do it.

They stayed there for some time, Millie simply holding Ian, allowing him the time and safety to purge the demons from his soul.

Ian finally pulled himself together. Slowly he rose, "I'm sorry," he said in a voice filled with emotion.

Millie placed her hand on his cheek, giving him a little smile.

"Come," she said taking his hand gently in hers, leading him into the house.

"Let's get you cleaned up," she whispered as they slowly climbed the stairs.

............

Michael lay in the hospital bed; alone for the first time in what seemed like...forever. The small lamp on the table gave the room a soft muted glow.

Tera and Valerie had left a while ago; he almost had to throw them out.

"You need to go Valerie," Michael said to her as she stood by his bed.

"I feel ok, I'm probably just going to sleep for the next ten hours, I feel good, just tired. From what Nigel said this place is as secure as Fort Knox, I'm safe," he said, squeezing her hand as he finished.

Tera was standing on the other side of the bed, holding Michael's other hand.

She did not look pleased about the thought of leaving.

He smiled at her and then looked down at her other hand, noting the sling was gone and only the bandage remained.

"Your wrist is better?" he asked with a small smile on his lips.

Tera glared at him "Yes Mr. Dane, my fucking wrist is fine," she responded, her voice held anger and gratitude in equal measure.

Her now mended hand slid over the sheet covering his chest, smoothing the wrinkles with a delicate but firm pressure, feeling the bandages below.

He felt the warmth of her hand, it caused his eyes close for a moment. He simply reveled in the unexpected touch.

"Tera," he said opening his eyes again "can you...stay with Valerie, make sure she gets home alright...watch over her," he finished.

Tera looked over at Valerie for an instant then back to Michael.

"Yes, I'll watch over her, if she is...ok with it," Tera said, watching Valerie out of the corner of her eye.

Valerie was...more than ok with it, and that in it's self bothered her.

She had appreciated Tera's presence on the road, in the helicopter, here in this room as she watched Michael's lifeless, unmoving form. She drew from the woman's seemingly limitless strength and had no desire to be parted from that just yet.

"I think that would be best, I don't want to be alone yet but...I could so use a shower," she smiled as she answered.

Each woman had bent down, placing a light kiss on each of his cheeks at almost the same moment. They were tentative, chaste things but imparted a depth of emotion that Michael definitely shared.

Now, lying alone in the room, he found he missed their company along with enjoying the solitude, it was an interesting dynamic.

Shaking his head he gingerly rose from the bed, his feet feeling the shock as they hit the cold floor.

"Fuck," he said as he stood, bouncing lightly from foot to foot, gauging if there would be any dizziness, he was surprised to find none.

He walked over to the bathroom and turned on the light, the image in the mirror surprised him.

He needed a shave, his hair was a wild mess but he looked...good...way better than he should have, he simply shook his head and grabbed the toothbrush, hopping to get the taste of copper and cotton out of his mouth.

'I feel too good,' he thought, finishing with his necessities and, with a last glance at his reflection in the mirror, walked back into his room.

He wished he could take a shower, but the doctor had told him that would have to wait till the morning, after he had looked at his wounds.

Spying his jacket on a chair he walked over feeling for the pack of cigarettes in the inside pocket, smiling he pulled it and his Zippo out.

Looking around he went to the window but it was a single pane of glass that didn't open.

Not relishing the idea of walking around in the damn hospital gown, he went to the closet finding a set of scrubs.

'Better than nothing," he thought taking off the gown and pulling the scrubs on gingerly over his bandaged wounds.

Outside he was confronted with one of Nigel's men.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," the man, probably in his late 40's, said to Michael.

"Just looking to grab a quick smoke, anyplace I may be able to do that," he asked in a plaintive voice showing the man the pack of cigarettes and lighter.

Shaking his head he answered, "end of the hall there is a balcony, be quick about it, a nurse finds you gone and it's my ass."

Michael thanked the man and made his way slowly down the corridor. Finding the door, he stepped out into the cool night, surprised to find himself in what appeared to be a busy downtown section of London.

The building was modern, probably built in the late 70's with a straight, lifeless concrete façade; he found he was on the 12th floor with another 6 above him.

Lighting the cigarette he took that first long pull, reveling in the feel of it in his lungs, trying to get his bearings and figure out where he was. He was surprised by a voice to his left.

"It's a private hospital in London, used for... special circumstances," the doctor said standing up from his chair in the shadows of the balcony and moving over to Michael's side.

"Finish your cigarette, when you are done we will go check your wounds, no sense waiting till the morning," he said as he left Michael alone on the balcony.

Watching the city move around him he felt calm for the first time all day.

Valerie and Tera played through his thoughts, both of them were so different, both elicited such strong emotions, he didn't know, couldn't fathom what was going to happen with them, he simply knew it was important that they be close to him, that they be...his.

The doctor had Michael lay back on the bed after shedding the scrubs.

"Let's see what we have," the doctor said starting with the bandages on Michael's legs.

Michael watched the doctors face, the expressions shifted quickly, from surprise, to astonishment, disbelief and finally, as he removed the last bandage on Michael's shoulder, resignation.

"As with your partner the young lady last weekend, you're healed," he simply stated.

He wished he could spirit this guy away to some lab and spend about 5 years poking him, but he knew...that would never happen.

"I have to say, I'm not really surprised," Michael said as he looked down at the new scars patterned across his legs and torso.

'We really need to talk,' he thought to Aoife as he thanked the doctor and moved into the bathroom for a much-needed shower.

As he stuck his head under the spray he was sure he heard the echo of a soft, deep, decidedly feminine chuckle.

The hot water felt good. Michael stood there as the strong spray washed over him, clearing away the dirt, grime and other sundry substances that had accumulated over the day.

Finding the small institutional bar of soap he brought up a strong lather and washed his body, his hands lingering over the just acquired scars, still tender but not painful.

He wondered over the changes. More than once in the last few weeks he felt he was surely loosing his mind.

What had, up until Sasha's death, been a relatively calm existence had suddenly turned into one that was dangerous, holding new perils around every corner.

Michael hated feeling as if he was out of control, and that was exactly how he felt right now.

Whoever "Aoife" was there was obviously an agenda there.

Nigel seemed to have good intentions but then he could not read the man, so his designs on Michael were unknown.

'Damn it, enough,' Michael thought as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.

"I've had enough of this," he said drying off and going back out to the room.

Retrieving the scrubs, his jacket and shoes he made for the door.

'Time to find a bit more...control,' he thought as he moved quietly down the hall flashing the guard his cigarette pack as he passed quickly down the corridor.

...............

"What the hell is going on," Valerie said in a strong voice the moment Tera slid behind the wheel and closed the door.

"What do you mean," Tera answered with some reserve, not sure where this was going.

As Tera pulled the Land Rover Sport away from the curb, accelerating smoothly into traffic, she waited for the young woman next to her to continue.

"Nigel works for my uncle, he has been around for as long as I can remember, but it seems Michael is now his full time job. I've heard stories of terrorist cells, random attacks, now I hear you were shot and saved by Michael last weekend. Your broken wrist is no longer broken and it seems that Mr. Dane is in love with both of us." Valerie said in a stream of fast words with no pauses.

Tera looked in the rear view mirror, merging onto the M40 towards Oxford.

"I work for Nigel, we were assigned to protect Mr. Dane, there was an...incident on his flight over and Nigel thought it best that we stay close. There was an attempt on Mr. Dane's life here, after he met with you and the security was increased. When Michael saved me last weekend...most of my team was killed, I was shot, the only thing he could think of was to protect me, I have never encountered anyone quite like him," Tera said, continuously scanning the mirrors for any sign of a tail.

"My uncle ordered Nigel to protect Michael?" Valerie asked.

"I honestly don't know, I don't think I have ever met or heard of your uncle from Nigel," Valerie answered, slipping over to the left lane just in case she needed to get off the motorway quickly.

Tera was quiet for a few moments before talking again.

"Why were you there today with Michael," she questioned.

"I have been...," Tera began, pausing and taking a deep breath before continuing, "...living with Michael in his flat for the past week, since the incident, Nigel said that it was necessary to keep a close watch on him, but I was drawn to do it, to try and keep Michael safe, even without Nigel's prompting," she finished.

"You love him." Valerie's statement hung in the air for only a moment before Tera responded.

"As much as you do," was Tera's response.

The women made the rest of the trip to Valerie's flat in silence. Neither wanting to go further down the road of their now stated feelings for the man who had become so important to both of them.

...............

Millie watched Ian sleep, it was a deep restful sleep, the kind you fall into when you simply have no reserves left.

Her fingertips slid over his strong chin as she placed a light kiss on his forehead before slipping from the bed.

She had taken him to their bedroom after he came back to the castle; he was quiet and tentative, still reeling from the realities of the day.

Millie had gently removed his blood stained clothing and then her own. Ushering him into the shower she lovingly bathed him, watching as the remnants of whatever had happened swirl down the drain in a gentle red tinged whirlpool.

They stayed in the shower a long time, simply touching each other, being there in the heat and warmth, loosing themselves in the steams warm and comforting embrace.

When all traces of the day were gone and both of their bodies were flushed pink from the warm water, Millie turned off the water and stepped from the shower.

She returned in a moment with a large warm towel which she slowly and sensuously used to dry Ian's near immobile form.

Quickly drying herself she lead him to their bed.

The only light in the room was from the fireplace, it provided a muted orange glow that allowed her to see Ian as almost a simple silhouette, but a silhouette she would know...anywhere. The flickering light played over his body, giving flashes of skin, the curve of his shoulder, the slight bob of his Adams apple, all bits of him that she new so well.

She lay with him, her damp head resting on his chest, his arm across her shoulders pulling her too him, trying to get closer even though they were touching.

Millie's hand slipped over his body, felt the tension slowly leaving his thighs, heard his heartbeat begin to take on a softer calmer tempo.

Her hand played over his member, it was semi-hard and he moaned softly as her nails teased over its length.

He moved against her palm, she felt the heat rise, felt him harden in her embrace. His arm around her shoulder pulled her tighter against him, willing her closer to him. She heard his heart rate increase as her hand slowly began to travel over him, his cock now like silken steel in her hand, a bead of wetness forming at the tip which she slowly massaged with her thumb.

His breath caught as she slid down his body.

She pulled back the sheet covering them both as she went, exposing his body to her eyes.

She loved to look at him, the curve of his chest where it met his lightly muscled stomach, the slightly whiter skin below his belly button to the center of his need, which now lay pulsing in her hand.

Her hair left a damp trail from over his heart, down his abdomen, providing a heightened sensation of connection than if she had simply lifted her head.

Millie knew his need; it was not so much one of lust or love or passion, but one of simple connection and caring, a physical manifestation that he was...worthy.

Millie was happy to provide such a small, but so very deep token of just how much he meant to her in this, his most vulnerable moment.

Gently her tongue replaced her thumb, just as another shimmering drop of his essence issued forth from the now throbbing tip of him.