Sunday Snippet: Chasing the Sun

There's nothing quite like hitting the third week of December and realizing less than half my holiday shopping is complete. I need about five more hours each day to get everything finished up. Something tells me I'm not going to see that extra time.

Had a decent week of television viewing. Caught an episode of Riverdale and, wow, I'm seriously impressed with how the relationship with Betty and Alice is being portrayed. I'm on the fence with the Hal stuff. Was completely thrilled I didn't have any Hiram to deal with and loved the father / son stuff between FP and Jughead and Archie and Fred. It's so bittersweet to watch Luke Perry's scenes.

Caught another arc of Sapphire and Steel. I should be getting ready to start the third season next week.

Watched an episode of Murdoch Mysteries. Really not sure what to make of the neighbor interaction. My gut says the wife is probably some type of murderer. We'll see if I'm proven right. I have a vague idea of who I think she'll end up taking out if she is.

Also watched an episode of Frankie Drake Mysteries. Enjoyed seeing a family member added to the fold. Loved Nora's mama bear protection instincts.

Also caught another episode of Midsomer Murders. Very happy this has another season coming up.

That's pretty much it for television this week. I also dived deep into the holiday music on a couple of days. Tonight's post is from Chasing the Sun, a sexy short that might end up turning into a novella.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Chance Martin and Rena Chavez are best friends, and maybe something more, if their work will stop getting in the way. But when Chance can't deal with a set of orders to remove an admiral with lethal action, he starts a downward spiral he can't stop. Rena has to pull him back from the edge, no easy task because she always follows orders.

And a sneaky peek…

Rena sat reading the after action report from the Moru Zasu explosion. The space substation held a key position on the relay route from their home planet Xanxia to the newly discovered Celestene, a planet the central government coalition hoped to start settling soon. They had to if they wanted to ease the current population burden.

God, what a close call? Complete with bodies flying out of the blast area with the recon ship just barely getting clear of the explosion.

She huffed out a breath. "Did Chance even bother to mention it?" Nope. Just wrote down the facts and went on with his duties. Closed the file.

A full week ago.

Yeah… something's just not right with him.

Her pen tapped the pages of the report and Rena pondered how distant he'd become. "Chance Martin can do aloof and biting on his best day, but lately he's been over the top with it." Maybe that explained his almost complete withdrawal from social activities. "He never shows up for the late night poker fests anymore." And he sure doesn't haunt the tiny little bar in the far cargo hold of the Valor.

She'd looked for him on multiple occasions.

She hadn't seen him around much since his spacewalk. And truth told… she hadn't made much effort to hunt him down—other than checking the bar and poker games. She wondered if anyone had. Probably not. She didn't like the guilt trip that set in. It had teeth.

God, she hated when her conscience reared its ugly head.

But, dammit, Chance had stunned her when she had reached out after he ejected during a battle. His admission of not wanting to come back knocked her for a loop. Rock-solid Chance Martin had a death wish? It boggled her mind. "And I don't know how to deal with it."

So… she hadn't been there for him. Not really.

His confession messed up the way she viewed him and she had no idea what to say. "After all, I'm not the one who's supposed to skirt the boundaries and pull my ass out of the fire." No, that would be Chance, much to his father's dismay.

Being the son of a government official made him push against boundaries, sometimes going too far.

Rena played by the rules. Always went by the book unless everything else failed. And, okay, she tried to keep things loosely defined when it came to Chance, because he got her on a level no one else did. "But he's not allowed to do things like give up and not want to come home."

He was supposed to bounce back and be the same guy she'd known longer than anyone else on the ship. Not disengage from life and crawl inside his head to hide away from everyone who cared about him. But he did exactly that.

This one is coming together in fits and starts. I've got a solid idea of where I want things to go but the sages aren't always on the same page.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Call to Come Home

I wish I could say it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but it's so not. LOL I'm hoping I can add some holiday cheer to the casa sometime this week. I think I'm going to make 2020 my year to finally purge a ton of stuff we no longer need or use.

Didn't have a great week of television, but did get a few things watched. We got a Disney + account through our wireless carrier so I did start a rewatch of the Gargoyles series. I have so many fond memories of this show when my oldest was little.

I finished the Gilmore Girls marathon and had some pretty intense feels. I watched sporadically when it originally aired, mainly because I had three youngish kiddos at the time. I really love the vibe of this show, even when I wanted to strangle the characters sometimes.

Caught another episode of Midsomer Murders and also realized series twenty isn't the last one. Yay!!

Caught a full story arc of Sapphire and Steel along with a full arc of Classic Who. I'd forgotten how much I truly disliked the Master way back when.

I finished out the week with The Trouble with Mistletoe, a Passionflix original. If you're not a member, consider signing up. I love the service!

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Call to Come Home, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Hollace is on a mission in enemy territory to retrieve power cells to keep their temporary base station running. She bumps into a man she shares a past with, the presumed-dead son of her commanding officer. When Verge refuses to leave with her, ignoring the call to come home, she takes matters into her own hands to reunite father and son… and to pick up where she and Verge left off.

And a sneaky peek…

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Hollace Winter stepped inside her commanding officer's space.

Vasser Olafsson glanced up from a stack of papers and Hollace bit back a gasp of surprise and alarm. He'd aged overnight. At least in the eyes that had seen too much fighting and devastation over the past two years.

Vasser nodded toward the seat across from his desk. "I did, Lieutenant. Take a seat." He shuffled the pages and tapped the bottom against the battered surface of the desk. "I have a mission for you but I'm not making it an order." He turned the pile of pages in her direction and pushed them toward her. "We're leaving Altera behind. You can see, starting on page three, the detailed list of why, but the reasons distill down to the planet is dying from this stupid, bloody war." He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

Hollace flipped through the report, skimming the bold points, each one direr than the last. In essence, they had less than two months to get as many people off the anchorage that orbited Altera and hopefully plot a course to find a habitable place to call home.

She blew out a breath. "What's the mission, sir?" She'd do just about anything Olafsson asked because she respected the man who'd become a father figure.

Vasser opened his eyes. "Turn to page ninety-seven. You'll get the general idea." He waited until she found the big red empty box on that page. "If we're going to have any hope of making an evacuation a success, we'll need those power cells. If we don't get them, we can't start the agriculture project we'll need to feed everyone." He leaned forward again. "But you and I both know where those cells will be." His mouth thinned into a slash across his face.

Hollace nodded. "In enemy hands. That's why you won't make this an order, isn't it?" He'd hate to put anyone in such a precarious position, but his reason for not wanting her to take the mission had an added wrinkle.

Her history with Vasser's son, Verge, a former captain who'd resigned his commission before the war started. When Verge decided to pursue a degree in eco-preservation, the old man blew a gasket. Hollace didn't get between them when they all but came to blows but she wished she had.

Losing Verge had taken a toll on the stoic commander.

Olafsson folded his arms over his chest. "It's one of the reasons. The other is not wanting to risk any of my pilots. If we're going to evacuate, someone has to fly CAPs and the galley crew won't cut it." He shook his head. "A solo mission isn't ideal, but it's less intrusive than sending a full platoon down to stir up more fighting."

Hollace didn't hesitate. "I'll go, sir. But let's keep the details under wraps. I'll report to only to you and we launch with only the deck chief and landing signal officer's knowledge." Warming to the concept, she added a few more thoughts. "If I leave from the dark side of the station, I can be out of the tube and halfway to the planet before I show up on the radar."

Vasser gave her idea consideration. "Okay, you have a go." He pushed away from the desk and stood. "Lieutenant, it goes without saying I need you to come home… but I'm saying it anyway." He moved around and extended his hand toward her when she got up.

Hollace grasped his palm. "I appreciate hearing it, sir." She pulled him into a hug. "I won't disappoint you." Stepping away, she turned and headed for the exit.

Vasser followed her to the door and gave a nod before she left.

So much left unspoken, the biggest being how much regret he carried over the fallout with his son.

I love writing reunions and family drama. Hollace gets both is this story.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Call the Ball

Whew! Welcome to December. I had a crazy week of trying to find a working stove… okay, a stove with a working oven. It's funny. We get a new furnace and literally two days later, our oven takes a flying leap. The good news is, I didn't have to cook for the US Thanksgiving and we found a new stove.

Television took a back seat to both work and shopping for kitchen appliances. I did get the Murdoch Mysteries episode finished up and enjoyed it a lot.

I also caught a binge-watch of the Green Hornet. I love the vibe of that show. The movie vibe? Not so much.

Then… I fell down the Gilmore Girls rabbit hole and got sucked into a marathon that's still going on. I'd forgotten how much I really liked this show… even when the characters sometimes drove me bonkers.

I will say it's a great show to watch when insomnia strikes. And, man, the insomnia has been a right pain in my ass this past week. Actually, it's been longer than the week, but it really kicked in on Monday and hasn't backed off yet.

That's pretty much it for the mundane real-life stuff this week. Tonight's post is from Call the Ball, a sexy short that started with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Gwen keeps a tightly controlled leash on her feelings for Tag, thinking if she gives up control, she'll get lost in the passion. But when a simple game throws them together, she has to take a chance to see if sparks fly and, if so, how to quench the flame.

And a sneaky peek…

Tag frowned. "Why does she always clam up around me?" Every single time he entered her vicinity, Gwen got quiet and edgy.

Or snarky and snappish.

He huffed out a breath. "Flies like a seasoned veteran though." The woman could make planes dance to her tune.

Turning around, he found an empty table and settled down in one of the seats. He liked Gwen. She had a solid rep among the pilots and she worked her ass off to earn her promotion, which he helped decide. Her skill in the cockpit gave her high marks. But her people skills lacked polish. And he could help her develop those.

He kicked back in the chair. "If I can get a handle on why she gets skittish around me." He wanted her transition to the senior ranks to go smoothly.

Maybe the rec room antics later would loosen her up a little. If not, he'd have to have a discussion with Gwen to find out if she had issues he didn't know about. Earning her trust mattered, especially when the senior officers had to work so closely together. He enjoyed a great rapport with all of his pilots and he wanted to find an inroad with Gwen.

Barlow Biggles stopped by the table. "Is everyone going to be there tonight?"

Tag nodded. "Yeah, just had West confirm. Party of eight at eight."

Barlow's lips kicked up in a grin. "Nice to have new blood. I hope she's down for having a good time with our crazy bunch." He strolled away to dump his tray.

Tag had no idea if Gwen would enjoy the silly and sometimes juvenile games the senior pilots loved to play. But it would be a good test to see how well she'd fit in. And hopefully give him a clue how to get him to open up a little.

This is a fun little story to dive into. I'll see if I can't get it finished up and out into the world.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Breaking Through

Hard to believe November is almost over. I think the whole furnace fiasco made the month seem a lot shorter than it actually was. That and my workload hasn't decreased… not that I'm complaining.

Had a somewhat slower week with television. I stuck mainly to marathons during the day. I did get some old-school Midsomer Murders watched along with several episodes of JAG.

I watched another episode of Riverdale and, man, Edgar is super creepy. Also, I still dislike Hiram with the passion of a thousand suns. I actually loved the whole shakedown of the gargoyles. The filming of that scene had me glued to the screen.

Other than that, I'm halfway through an episode of Murdoch Mysteries and really hoping they're not going to have Julia and William break up over the doctor who has the hots for her. I'd be very disappointed.

I also had a run of Classic Who episodes on Pluto TV. Nice to have that on in the background when I'm getting the dishes done or folding clothes.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Breaking Through, a follow up to Guarded Chance, featuring Echo and Race on the next part of their journey.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Race Markington finally has Echo Dart, the woman he wants to spend the future with. His one problem? She's been brainwashed by the enemy and he has to find a way to break through and get his Echo back.

And a sneaky peek…

Echo Dart came to with a violent jerk. "What the hell?" Zip cuffs secured her wrists and ankles.

Her mind flashed back to the compound and she struggled to get free.

"Echo, don't. You'll only end up hurting yourself."

Race. Memories flooded her brain. (Add in the detail about the sex?) She swung her gaze toward him and bile rose in her throat. His arm sported a bandage and, added to the dull throb along her temple, she put a few of the pieces together. A vague image, just a little out of reach, of her hand closing around a knife hovered in her memory. Fuck. I'm the reason he's injured.

She groaned. "What did I do?" Her eyes slid shut and she resisted the urge to scream.

Race traced a finger along her cheek. "You don't remember?" He kept the touch brief, easing back.

Echo's eyes popped open and she glanced in his direction. "It's there but it's not." She shrugged. "Almost like I can see what happened, but I don't remember doing it." Her shoulders slumped. "That sounds so stupid." The whole being free thing kind of sucked right now.

Race shook his head. "No, it's accurate. That's pretty much what happened." His forearm rested on his knee. "It's like you were acting without volition. You were the one wielding the knife, but your eyes were vacant, lost." His hand absently rubbed at his bandage.

Echo straightened as much as the restraints would let her. "Shit. It figures. The soul mate crap didn't take so they formulated a backup plan." Her gaze met Race's. "Make me kill my fellow soldiers." Fear, real and deep, bit down hard on her heart. "How the hell do I come back from that?" Better yet… how did she stop it from happening?

Race didn't waver. "I don't know. But you will come back, Echo. We'll find a way."

We. We'll find a way.

When he should abandon all hope, he didn't. An odd warmth spread through her. Finally. Finally, she could and would rely on someone to fill the dark places and empty spots in her life. She didn't need a savior, but she wanted a partner; someone to calm the storm or spur her to action.

Race.

Angling her head to the side, she rested it on his shoulder. "You know, I think we will." Reaching her pinkie finger out, she hooked it around his.

A tiny gesture, but until they discovered her trigger, she didn't want to risk too much.

I think this book and the preceding one are going to be in a special group called Mind Games. I have a few different stories started that feature some type of mind-bending trope.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Breaking Point (Scorched Homeworld 3)

I have a new furnace! It's shiny and pretty and takes up a lot less space than our old one did. And it's amazing how nice and toasty the house is again. Here's hoping the much-improved energy efficiency pays off too.

My workload is still crazypants. Trying to get prepped for having the equipment going in and out of our house didn't leave me a lot of time the past week. I also have a goal of seriously getting rid of a bunch of stuff that's been collecting in odd, random places for the past two decades.

I did get some television watched, starting with another episode of Midsomer Murders. I think I might have found the show I'll be replacing Midsomer with, but I have made a final decision yet.

Caught a few more episodes of Sapphire and Steel and watched a full arc of Classic Who. Sapphire and Steel is actually pretty interesting with a different style.

Watched a Halloween episode of Murdoch Mysteries, which ended up being pretty fun. I love it when William has to deal with people and things he doesn't feel comfortable with. Pretty cool variation on the theme song also.

Also caught another episode of Frankie Drake Mysteries. I really do like this show and the friendship between Frankie, Trudy, Flo, and Mary. My favorite season is still the first one, but if this is going to be a long-haul show, I'm down with the changes to the style.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Breaking Point, a follow up novel in what I'm referring to as the Scorched Homeworld series. Definitely a working title there.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Molly and Sloan are rock solid until the fleet reaches its breaking point and their relationship is one of the casualties… or so they want everyone to think.

And a sneaky peek… (a little on the sexy side)

Molly stood under the hot spray, waiting for Sloan to arrive. Her first mission objective accomplished, she let her mind dwell on the lack of progress. Something had to give soon or Sloan wouldn't be the only one feeling the crunch. And if any more civilians died, she hated to think how it would play out in the press. She might not credit the reporters with knowing their asses from an airlock, but they could cause all kinds of trouble the fleet didn't need right now.

Even anticipating Sloan's arrival, she'd been lost in thought and jumped a bit when his hands cupped her breasts and his mouth nuzzled her throat. Turning, she traded places with him and shoved everything else from her mind.

"Water's hot." She gave him a nudge and let him duck under the stream.

Sloan's head tilted back and water sluiced over his face. Molly's eyes tracked the rivulets as they slithered down his chest and torso before branching off to roll along his hips and legs. She moved in close, picked a droplet and chased after it with her finger. Sloan's stomach muscles rippled under her touch and his head dropped forward. He grabbed the soap and poured a small amount on his chest before adding some to the palm of his hand.

Molly took the hint and smoothed her hands over his skin working up a good lather. Sloan returned the favor and the heat of the shower notched up another degree. The way his fingertips ghosted over her skin made her shiver under the hot spray of the water. Her tongue darted out, the urge to follow the trail of suds sliding in tempting pathways over his torso too strong to resist. She licked a trail from his shoulder to his groin, dropping to her knees, her mouth wrapping around Sloan's rock hard erection.

His hips thrust forward and he groaned. "Feels good, Molly." His fingers smoothed over her scalp.

Molly swirled her tongue around the tip of Sloan's cock then sucked the length to the back of her throat. Sloan moaned and the ball of tingling awareness in Molly's stomach spread outward along all of her nerve endings. She bobbed her head back and forth, listening to Sloan's breath rasp out, letting the exquisite feeling of anticipation build until she couldn't stand it anymore.

Rising, her lips met Sloan's and he lifted her, entering with a smooth thrust. Molly tore her mouth from his with a groan. Her head dropped to his shoulder and she reached out, shutting the water off. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she rocked her hips, meeting Sloan's rapid staccato pace.

The knowledge she made him forget the problems plaguing the fleet—at least for a while—gave her a heady sense of power. The feel of him going deep, the sound of his harsh breathing, the look of ecstasy on his face… everything combined to overwhelm her senses. Would they ever lose the skill to affect each other on such a primal level?

I honestly doubt Molly and Sloan will ever lose that particular skill, but they might have to pretend to for a while.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Boxing Day

Whew. This week flew right by. We're still waiting on our new furnace, which I should have by my next post. My workload is bananas right now and I didn't get a chance to watch much television due to deadlines. It's also been a busy week with my daughter's golf banquet and awards ceremony and state band competition.

I started a new episode of Blue Heelers but stopped midway through so I need to finish it up this week.

I started out with Midsomer Murders and watched the first episode of the final series. The new coroner is kind of fun and recognizable from a Doctor Who episode, at least that's where I remember her from.

I'm limping through the Riverdale musical episode "Big Fun". I keep stopping the action because I don't want to miss anything. I can honestly say I'm impressed with the way this episode is put together. I love how many of the group is involved in the musical. The only thing I'm not a fan of is how much screen time Eleanor is sucking up. I realize there's a reason for it but she's right up there with Hiram in the characters I love to hate department. I do think I'll have time to finish up later tonight or early tomorrow. Then it's off to the new season of Arrow, where I'll probably weep through every episode.

I caught a few holiday movies in the background during the workday and also ended up catching a bunch of Blue Bloods episodes.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Boxing Day, a sexy short that started with a writing community prompt that suggested creating a story that seems to go in one direction but ends up not being what readers will think it is. I love challenges like that.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Aeryn Gray packs up the personal belongings of Nash Nitali and spies a pair of boxing gloves. The sight takes her back through their weird brand of courtship and she takes some time to reminisce about their long, tangled affair.

And a sneaky peek…

Aeryn chuckled and pulled her hand out of the glove. "Not the best start but, man, did it set the tone for everything that followed." The ebb and flow of their relationship had an up and down pattern that rarely stayed smooth.

Or got boring.

Pushing the gloves inside the box, she picked up a wrist band, running her fingers over the engraved name, Joseph Malone. "Geez. I can't believe he kept this." Nash's mentor and pretty much the only father figure he'd had.

Joe taught Nash everything he knew about boxing and Aeryn got to see both in action. Nash went toe-to-toe with the old man… until he didn't.

Joe stopped moving, putting his gloved hands on his hips. "Quit pulling your punches, Nash. What the hell?" He jabbed Nash in the shoulder.

Nash opened his mouth but Joe gave him the stink eye.

Nash's shoulders slumped. "I'm not really pulling them, just taking it a little easier than usual."

Aeryn winced. Way to go, Nash. That'll go over well.

Joe growled. "Do I look like I need you to go easy?" His eyebrow arched, daring Nash to say otherwise.

Nash's head snapped up. "Didn't say you did. Maybe I'm going easier because I've had a tough week."

Aeryn rolled her eyes. While true, Malone wouldn't consider it a valid excuse.

Joe punched Nash's bicep. "Get your damn head in the bout or get out of the ring." He got into a fighting stance.

Nash blew out a hard breath and bent his elbows, matching Joe's crouch. "Fine. Let's go." He started shuffling his feet and moving into a wide arc.

Nash did as requested and got his head into the match. Two rounds later, he landed a jab that sent the old man down, knocking him out. Aeryn had the smelling salts ready and Joe jerked, coming to with a grin on his face.

He sat up. "'Bout damn time you beat me." He stuck out a hand and Nash helped him stand. "Nice round, Nasher." He slapped Nash's back with his glove.

Nash lifted his chin. "You okay?" To his credit, he didn't show overt concern.

Malone laughed and shot Aeryn a sideways glance. "He asks if I'm okay. How do I look, lieutenant?" He swiped at the sweat dotting his forehead.

Aeryn snorted. "You look like an old man with a solid need to keep his young protégé in check." Her lips curved in a smirk.

Joe guffawed. "Damn, Nash. You weren't kidding about that smart mouth of hers." He tossed a glove off and thrust his hand forward. "I like you, lieutenant. You're all right."

Aeryn clasped his palm and gave him a firm shake. "A high compliment, sir. It's nice to meet you." She settled back down on the bench to wait for the guys to get a shower.

Nash owed her dinner since he'd won the bout.

And she had a hankering for steak.

I enjoy trying new things and playing with the mood of a story. Not everyone is a fan of flashback tales, but this one begged for a small twist on that trope.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Bombs Away

November 3, 2019

Hello, November. The temperature dropped significantly, which kind of sucks for my household since we can't get our new furnace until the middle of next week. That said, with some careful placement, space heaters are doing an excellent job of keeping the house comfortable. As long as we don't dip into single digits, we're golden.

Not a bad week for television. I have a heavy workload right now, but still squeezed in some decent viewing.

I started out with Riverdale and, wow, what a great episode. I'm still catching up from last season so this episode featured FP's fiftieth. Cole Sprouse and Skeet Ulrich brought their A games. Also loved the linked montage of Archie's king of the mountain battle with Cheryl and Toni's hot session in the speakeasy. The breakup ended up being a lot more painful than I anticipated but excellent work from the women. Reggie and Veronica's falling out also packed a punch. Reggie is very much growing on me as a character. A few random notes… I absolutely hate the entire farm storyline. I also dislike Hiram with the passion of a thousand suns going supernova. Don't see that changing anytime soon.

I finally got to sit and watch Arrow's season finale. I can honestly say the ugly crying didn't stop after the credits rolled. Everyone acted their collective asses off—Stephen and Emily in particular. Stephen, quite frankly, blew me away. Watching him evolve as Oliver over seven seasons has been a true joy. Seriously… I'm going to miss this show so much. My one main disappointment is not getting any scenes with Oliver and Mia. I'd love to see the two actors interact.

I thoroughly enjoyed Murdoch Mysteries. Nice to see George's family tree expand and with such a terrific character (pun intended). I have so much fun watching this show.

Frankie Drake Mysteries also made me smile. I'm still getting used to the new opening and the somewhat different shift in the show's dynamic. That said, it's growing on me and I like the fabulous foursome and their interactions.

Caught a new story arc on Sapphire and Steel. This show is usually background noise for me when I'm working and I have the horrible feeling I'm really missing a lot. I'm going to make an effort to really focus when I start the third assignment.

Watched the beginning of series nine with Classic Who. The daleks returned to be a huge pain, per usual. I always enjoy episodes that feature them.

Should be catching another episode of Midsomer Murders in the very near future.

That's it for this week. Tonight's post is from Bomb's Away, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

A power struggle, an explosion and communication breakdowns. Sometimes it takes a really big boom to move things in the right direction.

And a sneaky peek…

Kiara couldn't help feeling awkward even though she'd flagged Ronan to her side. They might not be together anymore, but his presence was a welcome gift. Triaged and tagged as low priority—rightfully so—she couldn't move from her spot and it made her insane.

She hated the immobility, but her knee, screwed up and swollen, meant she couldn't do anything anyway. Getting thrown a dozen feet and being trapped under debris would do that. She only heard snatches about an explosion and suicide bomber and wanted some answers.

Ronan would fill her in on the situation, regardless of their off again status. “Hey, is it true? A suicide bomber?” What the flaming hell is going on?

Ronan leaned on the side rail of the cot. “Yeah, it looks that way. Took out half a causeway on SL3.” His eyes searched her from head to toe, concern fading way to relief.

She looked a hell of a lot better than when they had first wheeled her into sickbay. She'd been covered with dust and dirt and appeared more injured than she'd actually been. Not that a busted up knee didn't hurt like a bitch.

Kiara wracked her brain trying to figure out what the bomber could have been after. She couldn’t think of anything.

“What the hell’s on SL3 worth blowing yourself up for? All that's down there is—” Wait a minute… Carmody's special dignitary suite happened to be on that level? He'd chosen the one at the very end of the hub. The possibility of him as a target would bear some thinking on later.

Ronan scanned the chaos before answering. “From what I hear… nothing of huge importance. Carmody isn't on the base at the moment. But the bomber didn't get the intended target.” He looked back at her. “We got lucky. The XO and the big man himself stopped whoever it was before he got where he was going.”

Ronan's comms beeped and he checked his panel. “Listen… I gotta go.” He didn't seem to want to leave, probably knew it killed her to not be in on the action. But at least he'd be involved in getting everyone cleared from the debris and maybe find out what was going on.

Kiara waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze and fought his way through the throng to head back out.

Kiara heaved a sigh. Jesus, look at the mess that son of a bitch left behind. She didn't know why it bothered her so much, but it did. Maybe because she couldn't do anything about it, it frustrated her that much more. She already hated having to stay in sickbay, but she'd just be in the way until they fixed up her leg. The swelling hadn't even gone down yet. Hopefully Ronan would come by to see her later and fill in the details.

On the outs or not, she figured he'd at least stop in to give her the rundown of what was happening. They'd always be friends, no matter what. And there was nothing like a bomb exploding to put petty disagreements in perspective.

What did their stupid issues matter in the grand scheme of things? Not a hell of a lot. Kiara looked forward to seeing him later so she could share that with him.

I like this story so much. I'm getting close to having it complete and I'm looking forward to launching it out there to see what everyone thinks.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye