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Rebecca kept a steady pace, working her arms and legs in rhythm with the speed of the treadmill.
The gym was empty and silent - save for Rebecca and the faint drone of her machine. The young medic had wanted to be alone, even turning down drinks with Jill. Tonight just didn't feel like a time to celebrate.
The debrief had gone by shockingly fast - it seemed that the recovery of Ladybug and whatever intel she had in her possession was all that mattered to the higher-ups. A bitter frown tugged at Rebecca's lips as her legs continued to work beneath her. All the men they lost, BSAA and Tricell, and Director Gionne still considered the mission a "wonderful" success.
It just felt… wrong.
But beyond that, Rebecca had to grapple with the fact that she should have died. A mutated licker would have been the end of her story had it not been for Commander Dalton. Her life had been saved by a smug, unrepentant Tricell mercenary. That troubled her greatly. Which was stupid! She knew it was stupid! Somehow, the prospect of being in that man's debt was more concerning than the revelation of his superhuman abilities.
The sound of the gym doors swinging open shook Rebecca back to reality. What followed were the unmistakable heavy footfalls of Director Gionne's conquering hero.
Speak of the devil…
Rebecca spotted him in the large mirror that took up the back wall of the gym, eyeing her not-so-beloved savior as he drew closer. Even dressed in civvies, Dalton cut a striking figure. Tall, broad, powerful - his sculpted physique was practically popping from the confines of his tight, black shirt. The fabric clung to his torso like a second skin, leaving no doubt to just how impressively built he was. Rebecca forced her eyes up to his face. As expected, his handsome face was marred by a smug, irksome grin.
The medic breathed in. Then she pressed a button, making her treadmill slow to a crawl.
Rebecca turned and locked eyes with the man, leveling him with a hard stare. But Dalton was not dissuaded. His green eyes shone with bold interest. It was clear: he was not going to leave.
"What are you doing here?" Rebecca's voice was cold and accusing as she wiped some sweat from her brow.
"I could ask you the same thing. Do you normally work out alone?" Dalton moved with a cool and confident stride, drawing closer until he stood right beside Rebecca's treadmill. He leaned back against the machine next over, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Rebecca did her best to ignore the fascinating way his forearm muscles tensed under the skin.
She hit another button, stopping the treadmill entirely. With a huff, she stepped off. Even with the extra inches of height the machine provided, Dalton stood taller. But now with her feet flat on the gym floor, the mercenary loomed over her. Rebecca bristled, silently damning her own shortness.
"The gym usually isn't this empty. We lost a lot of people, remember?" Rebecca's voice turned sharp as she narrowed her eyes. Dalton was unfazed, his anvil-like chin jutting forth as he tilted his head back.
"I do." Dalton answered calmly, his deep voice rolling over Rebecca like rumbling tank treads. "This is a dangerous job. Everyone on the team, both Tricell and your BSAA boys, knew the risks when they got on that helicopter."
Rebecca bristled again, vexed by the man's supreme arrogance. Even so, she didn't particularly enjoy being so cold. Especially towards the man who saved not only her own life but the life of her dear friend, Jill. But there was something about Dalton, more than his size, more than even his superhuman strength, that made Rebecca feel… uneasy. It was in the way he moved around her, the shine in his eyes, and the faint edge in his voice whenever he spoke to her. Like all it would take was something to set him off, to turn him more beast than man.
There were ideas coming forth then, swirling at the very edge of Rebecca's mind. The slender medic ignored them, not allowing them purchase in her thoughts for even a moment.
It was Rebecca's turn to cross her arms - though hers were substantially less impressive than Dalton's, so any chance of intimidation was negligible. The way his grin seemed to spread, Rebecca knew her displeasure was an amusement at best.
"Easy for you to say." Rebecca shot back, now heated and biting rather than cold and sharp. She nodded derisively towards the taller man, frowning. "You aren't actually risking anything. Not when you're… you!"
Annoyingly, Rebecca's words seemed to swell the man with pride rather than instill any sort of shame or respect. He pushed off of the treadmill he was leaning against, standing at his full height - more than a head taller than Rebecca. Even without the inches added by his combat boots, Dalton was a tower of a man. Rebecca hated having to look up to glare at him, knowing that it would mute any desired effect.
Dalton, of course, clearly delighted in the disparity, silently but obviously lording it over her with his posture and body language. Unshakable confidence colored every little movement, the sort of surety only a supersoldier could have. He stepped closer, leaning his head forward to look down into Rebecca's eyes. The medic stood her ground… but couldn't ignore the damnable coiling in her lower belly.
"And what am I, exactly?" Dalton spoke low and quiet, but also firm like steel.
Rebecca swallowed, breathing in deep through her nose. Her glare remained, unwavering.
"Tricell's attack dog. Their own private supersoldier." She answered in a small but simmering voice. Quiet anger poured from her lips, nastier than she intended. But Dalton was kind of asking for it. "The invincible man… kept on a leash."
She waited for the flash of anger in his emerald eyes… but it never came. Instead, there was… amusement.
Dalton pulled away, leaning back as a laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. Rebecca blinked, finding herself glancing around the empty gym - as if she was afraid Dalton's laugh would draw the ire of onlookers who weren't there. The twisting in her belly grew wild for a moment, joining in tandem with the heat rising in her cheeks.
The man's voice cut through her discomposure, a small mercy.
"That's a good thing for you, no? Them keeping me on leash. Maybe I bite." A charming smile spread beneath devious, hungry eyes.
Rebecca hated the shiver that rolled down her back. Hated how her gym clothes felt clinging to her hot skin. Hated herself for the words that spilled from her lips.
"Maybe I do, too."
There was a long silence. Rebecca felt her heart hammering in her chest. She could hardly breathe, her feet rooted to the spot. And Dalton? He just stared.
The man loomed over her, the size disparity between them never more apparent to her than it was right then. His eyes seemed to glow bright like green flame, threatening to burn her up from the inside out. Then… his lips spread into a hungry smile.
"You never said thank you." He finally spoke, his voice slicing through the quiet - right down to the pit of Rebecca's belly.
The shorter woman inhaled sharply, blinking. Her whole body seemed to flinch at his words. She stepped back, narrowing her eyes.
"What?"
"The Licker attack back in Toronto." Dalton clarified. His eyes burned brighter as he took the ground she had just ceded. He uncrossed his arms, letting those thick, powerful limbs fall to his sides. They remained tense, ready to do… something. All Rebecca could do was breathe as the towering mercenary continued on, his deep voice now coming smooth - like the flat of a blade. "I saved your ass back there and you never really thanked me."
For a short moment, anger flared up inside the diminutive medic. She leveled at Dalton a withering, incredulous glare, shaking her head.
"Thank you." She sneered mockingly. "Happy now?"
Once again, infuriatingly so, Rebecca's clear anger didn't instill even an ounce of shame in the man. Dalton chuckled, shaking his head in turn. His laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. Rebecca could practically feel it emanating. The way it rolled through her body, her gut, and lower… She didn't like it. Not one bit.
And the look in Dalton's eyes? She liked it even less.
"We both know that's just not going to cut it, doc."
He gazed down at her, drawing his smoldering eyes over her slender body, drinking her in nice and slow. The merc may as well have been salivating, like Rebecca was some piece of meat. And with her garb being nothing more than gym shorts and a tank top… that was exactly how Rebecca felt.
There was a sharp spike of fear then, white hot. A wicked thrum shot through her whole body. But it wasn't because of Dalton or his open lust. It was because of Rebecca herself. Because she didn't hate it.
Every second that she allowed this to continue brought her a second closer to disaster. Rebecca knew she had to put a stop to it, to just turn around and walk away. But a part of her - the weak, traitorous part of her mind - kept her rooted firmly before Dalton's lecherous gaze.
"I… I could buy you a beer?" She offered lamely, shifting on her feet like some shy, blushing schoolgirl. What the hell was wrong with her?
Another chuckle from Dalton. Another shake of his head.
"Don't think so."
Rebecca took a deep inhale. It didn't do a damn thing to settle her nerves. The young medic wrapped her arms around her bare tummy, a vain attempt to preserve some modesty, to shield her body from Dalton's eyes. All it did was amuse him that much more.
"I'll give you…" Rebecca's mind raced, desperate for something. Anything. "A month of my salary!"
Dalton snorted. Rebecca's heart sank… just as her belly coiled.
"That's pocket change compared to what I get from Tricell." The man - the brute - smirked, cocking his head to the side. He knew she didn't have anything. Rebecca could see it in his eyes. He was a beast playing with his food. "I don't want your money, sweetheart. But you already knew that."
Sweetheart.
The word was a vexing hot poker. Not to Rebecca's heart, but to her gut. It stabbed deep and twisted. Heat rose up in Rebecca's cheeks… and anger along with it.
She was sick of Dalton. Sick of his stupid smile. Sick of his shiny, emerald eyes. Sick of his stupid, handsome face!
"So what do you want then?" Rebecca stepped up to him, a flash of courage surging through her. She poked a finger into his chest, fuming. "You wanna keep playing games or are you going to grow some balls and tell me?"
Rebecca's fire flickered out the instant the last word left her lips. The glimmer in the man's eyes told her the horrible truth: all she had done was goad him on. She wasn't the spunky badass chick standing up to a meathead merc. She was a little rabbit taunting a hungry lion.
Dalton stepped forth into her space, a beastly smile spreading under his darkened eyes.
"I want you."
She'd known from the start just what he'd wanted, what with the way he'd leered at her and Jill during the mission briefing. But to hear him say it out loud, in his low, drawling voice, sent a shiver through Rebecca's slender body. She'd never felt so vulnerable before, not even during the nightmare at the Spencer Mansion. She felt so small in Dalton's shadow, like a prey about to be pounded upon. And the sensation was… intoxicating.
Rebecca breathed in deep. Then her racing mind settled into a hazy calm. It was like a cloud thickened around her, engulfing her in a fog. She felt a stillness then, a feeling that only came with acceptance.
The truth had been buried deep. All this time, Rebecca had tried to ignore it. But now it was here, dark tendrils twisting and coiling through her insides, spreading in tandem with the wicked heat boiling up from her lower belly - that shameful ache in her core.
"That's… that is… very unprofessional, Mr. Dalton." Her voice came soft and quiet. Small, just like how she felt. Her belly flipped, the tremble rising up into her throat. Rebecca kept her lips closed tight, afraid to let Dalton hear such a pitiful sound from her.
"It's the law of the jungle." Dalton shot back. He gave a short laugh, moving closer. He was inches away, the warmth of his body coming off like invisible steam. "Way I see it, I saved your pretty little ass, so now that pretty little ass is mine. That sounds fair to me."
Rebecca slapped him.
Her nerves unraveled and her hand shot out in a rush of emotion, swiping hard across Dalton's face.
Her hand came back stinging. And the man was unfazed. It was like slapping concrete.
Dalton wore an infuriating look then, arrogance and amusement mingling together on his perfect face. Then he laughed, rich and rumbling. The sound shook Rebecca down to her bones, sending her belly into another fit of coiling.
The medic balled her hands into small, tight fists, anger frothing within as her face burned hot. But there was something else, too. More than rage or shame, keeping her from storming away.
"Take a few more swings." Dalton told her, smirking. He leaned forward, offering her a good shot at his chin. "Get it out of your system. I mean it. You can't hurt me, Chambers."
"You… you're a fucking bastard, Dalton!"
The man snorted loudly, turning his face down to look her right in the eye. They were so close that their noses nearly brushed together. Rebecca could feel the heat of his breath on her lips.
Lips…
"I'm the fucking bastard who saved your-"
Rebecca kissed him.
She threw her arms around his neck, pushing her little body right up against his, and kissed him. She had to get up onto her tiptoes just to be able to reach his mouth with her own, but she did it. She locked lips with the smug, arrogant Tricell supersoldier. The supersoldier that saved her life.
His mouth tasted of black coffee and copper. The bristles of his face stubble were rough against her softer skin. It shouldn't have felt good. But the deep flavor settled on Rebecca's tongue and the heat of his rock hard body poured over her own, so much that Rebecca felt like she was sinking into it. It made her head spin.
Glowing red embers flickered in her belly, the rising heat sending a wickedly pleasant shiver through her muscles and bones. She moaned into his mouth.
Then Dalton started to kiss back. And Rebecca Chambers was lost, swept away on the rush of sensation and her dark, primal delights.