A Vacation ... Where?

CHARACTERS: Anakin/Vader (depending on his mood), OFC
CATEGORY: Humor, Seduction, Het
DISCLAIMER: As much as I wish he was, he’s not mine. The OFC is mine, though. And I haven’t gotten any money from this, as kick-ass as that would be.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thank you, gracias, merci, thanx to Mel for being my beta.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Partially in response to a fiction challenge, partially because of a recurring dream I keep having. Eh, either way works for me. *grins*

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Sergeant Smith was sitting at her desk, going through the database and adding new Marines when the first sergeant bellowed for her. She sprang up and darted into his office.

“Yes, first sergeant?”

“We’re getting our new commanding officer this morning; why don’t you take him around battalion, and help him out if he needs anything.”

“Roger that; who’s the new CO going to be?”

The first sergeant consulted the computer screen on his desk. “Says here a Lieutenant … Skywalker.”

Sergeant Smith tried to smother a laugh. “Skywalker? As in ‘Star Wars’? Man, someone’s parents were cruel.”

The first sergeant’s mouth quirked. “You know what’s even better? They named the poor guy Anakin.”

At this, Sergeant Smith burst into laughter. “And I’m supposed to show this guy around with a straight face?”

“We figure you’d be better at it than anyone else.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, if I have to.”

She’d just taken her seat at her desk when the office door opened and the new CO walked in. Sergeant Smith leapt to her feet.

The lieutenant smiled and motioned her to sit down. “Don’t bother with all that ‘attention on deck’ stuff, it drives me nuts.” He paused. “And not in a good way,” he grinned.

Sergeant Smith laughed. “Yes, sir. First Sergeant Jordan has asked me to acquaint you with battalion and make sure that your check-in process is seamless.”

The lieutenant nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Where’s my office?”

Sergeant Smith motioned to the office across from her desk. “Right there, sir.” She extracted a key from her desk and handed it to him. “Here’s your key; I’ve been hanging onto it so we can get docs out of that office when we need them.”

“Thanks.”

“Sir, I’ll need you to fill out this new join sheet, if you have time.” She handed him a database sheet, and made a superhuman effort not to stare at his eyes. She’d never seen sapphire eyes shot through with amber in her life, and found it hard to look away from them. Of course, the chiseled cheekbones and innocent-yet-knowing grin didn’t help, either.

“I think I can make time for this,” he answered. “When do you want to start the tour?”

“Well, sir, it’s almost chow, so I can get your information put into the system and make sure you have an email account, and then I can show you around at 1300.”

“Works for me. Let me get this filled out and given back to you.” He disappeared into his office and shut the door.

“Thank god for doors with glass panes,” Sergeant Smith muttered as she studied the new lieutenant.

He ran a hand through his close-cropped, wavy, dark blond hair, searched through his desk for a pen, and absently nibbled on a fingernail while he filled out the paper. She noticed the scar over his right eye, one cutting into the hairline on the left side as he swung his chair around to look at the wall calendar, and how well his body was suited to Marine Corps blues – tall, lean, but just broad enough across the shoulders. Every adjustment he made to his uniform seemed to involve standing, bending, or twisting in some incredibly erotic way.

Sergeant Smith snapped out of her reverie when the first sergeant walked up to her desk.

“I’m heading out for the day,” he said. “RHIP.”

Sergeant Smith rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Rank Has Its Privileges. I know; you tell me every time you leave early. You oughta just say, ‘Hey Smith, I’m going to skate now.’ It’d be a lot simpler.”

First Sergeant Jordan laughed. “I would, but I’m pretty sure the new lieutenant wouldn’t approve.”

“Oh, I don’t know, he seems pretty laid back.” She pointed to the door, where the lieutenant could be seen propping his feet up on his desk and tilting his chair back.

The first sergeant laughed. “You might be right. Well, either way, I’m going skating. I’ll see you on Monday. Just be here around 0800, okay?”

She nodded. “Have a good weekend, first sergeant.”

He grinned and headed out of the office. The lieutenant’s door opened shortly afterward.

“Here’s your paper, sergeant.” He presented the paper with a flourish.

She laughed and took it. “Thank you, sir.” Looking down at it, she said, “Sir, your parents really named you Anakin Skywalker?”

“Mother. Yes, that was the name she gave me. Why, is there something wrong with it?”
Sergeant Smith swallowed the laugh threatening to bubble out of her. “No sir, I was just curious.”

He eyed her strangely. “Well … I’ll be in my office whenever you’re ready for that tour.”

“Aren’t you going to chow, sir?”

“Nah.” He turned and walked back into the office, shutting the door behind him.

She’d have to admit her typing was greatly slowed by the fact she was watching him more than half the time; there was something undeniably sexy about a guy with an unbuttoned blues blouse kicked back in his office chair like the world belonged to him.

“He’s my CO,” she muttered fiercely to herself. “Just keep telling yourself that.” She finally finished updating the database – “Anakin Skywalker,” she chuckled to herself again – and then knocked on his door.

“Come in,” he called lazily.

“Sir, I’m done with the database if you’d like to start that tour now.”

He stood and stepped toward her. “And what particular area would you like to start the tour with?” he murmured.

Sergeant Smith stood there, dumbfounded, for a moment. She couldn’t have formed a coherent answer if she’d tried. “I … well … that is … we ….” She paused, and the short curls around her face danced as she shook her head in an attempt to clear it. She took a deep breath, and started again. “Well, sir, there’s-“

He put a finger over her lips to silence her. “Let me rephrase that. We can walk around battalion – something I already know you hate doing – or I can fuck you in this office for the rest of the afternoon, since I know First Sergeant Jordan left for the day.”

Smith stared at him. “How the hell are your eyes turning yellow? Weren’t they blue a minute ago?”

“They get like this when I’m quite excited about something.”

Sergeant Smith glanced down. “Well, we can certainly tell you’re excited about _something_.”

“That would be the thought of you, naked, bent over my desk.”

“People would walk in on us! It’s the natural karma of the military. How the hell do you not know that?”

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot.” He made a waving motion with his hand. Sergeant Smith heard a distinct click from the main office door. “Now they can’t get in. And they’ll think we’ve gone home for the day. It is Friday, after all.”

She stared at him. “How did you do that?”

He laughed. “Can’t you put two and two together?”

She eyed him skeptically. “You’re trying to tell me you’re _the_ Anakin Skywalker? Please. He’s just a figment of George Lucas’s imagination.”

“That’s what he likes to think,” he answered. “Don’t worry about the physics of it, just accept it.”

“You’re one to talk,” she shot back. “You couldn’t accept _anything_, if the movies were right.”

He glared at her. “We don’t need to talk about that.”

“Well, then don’t get preachy at me, Mr. Dissatisfied with Everything.”

Anakin looked at her in disbelief. “Are you _allowed_ to be this mouthy in the Marines?”

“I generally don’t display it at work, but you seem to bring it out.”

He grinned. “Anything else I can bring out? Like you out of that uniform?”

She rolled her eyes. “Good god, what’s next? You gonna ask me if I want to see your Mustang?”

“Please. Mustangs are _so_ overrated. I have a Firebird.”

She burst out laughing. “Now that is just funny. _Fire_bird.” She looked him up and down. “Although apparently you didn’t end up extra crispy this time around.”

“Hell no, Obi-Wan remembered that he pulled the same jump-over routine on Maul … a little too late.”

“Ah. So you won in this one.”

“Yep. And knocked off Palpatine.”

“So why are you _here_?”

“Vacation.”

“On Earth. In America, 2005. In the Marine Corps. There is something seriously wrong with you.”

He chuckled. “That’s what most people think. At least people in my empire are smart enough not to mention it to my face.”

She shrugged. “What do you want me to do, cower in abject fear? Not gonna happen.”

“Well, what about my previous offer?”

“What, to fuck in your office all afternoon?”

“Yeah.”

“You have any more scars? I dig scars.”

“Of course. I’m a war hero – don’t they all?”

“Good point. And you’re sure the door’s locked?”

“Yes.”

She looked him up and down. “Sure. I didn’t have anything more exciting planned this afternoon, anyway.”

“First things first. What’s your name? I refuse to call you ‘sergeant’ the whole afternoon.”

“Danielle.”

“I like that,” he smiled.

“You better,” she grinned.

He slid a hand up the bottom of her blues blouse. She laid her hand over his. “This blouse cost me $120. If you rip all these buttons off, I’m going to beat you to death with my shoe.”

Anakin looked at her for a second, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll unbutton them.” A moment later he swore. “Are they all this hard to undo?”

“Yep, those buttons are a bitch.”

A couple of minutes and a lot of cussing later, the blouse was neatly laid in a corner of the office.

“What I don’t understand,” she said, “is why you didn’t just use the Force to do it.”

The look on his face was so chagrined that she doubled over laughing. “That was priceless!” she gasped.

He mock-glared. “I hate you. Really. I do.”

“Ooh. One more time, with feeling, eh?”

“You listen to Bon Jovi, too?”

“I don’t even want to know how you came across Bon Jovi. Seriously.” She clapped a hand over his mouth and started unbuttoning his blouse. As he went to take it off, she stopped him. “Wait. Just take off the t-shirt, then put it back on.”

He obliged, then began to button the blouse back up. She stopped him. “Man, you’re dense. Leave the blouse unbuttoned.” She knelt in front of him and slipped his corframs off, then stood and unfastened his trousers.

“Why am I not surprised you’re a boxers kind of guy?”

“They’re more comfortable.”

“Be that as it may … but Darth Vader boxers?”

“What? I liked them!”

“You would,” she said, mock-derisively.

“Hey!”

She laughed. “It’s so easy to yank your chain.”

He pulled her up to him. “Oh yeah?”

She looked up at his sapphire and amber eyes. “Ummmm … yeah. Yeah, it is.”

He leaned closer. “You sure about that?”

“Look, the fact I really want to kiss you doesn’t change the fact that it’s easy to yank your chain.”

“Well, damn,” he said, before planting his mouth on hers. She wrapped one leg around his, and her arms twined behind his head. When they broke apart, she was near-breathless.

“It’s really too bad you had to cut your hair,” she muttered. “Much more pullable before.”

He nodded. “I agree. But I couldn’t really join the Marines with long hair.”

“True.” She looked around him at the mahogany desk. “Good thing you just got here, your desk doesn’t have crap all over it.”

He nodded and walked her backward until she hit the desk and lay back on it.

“You know, under that prim and proper uniform, you really have some racy stuff,” he said as he pulled off her left stocking.

“You telling me you still consider a thong racy?”

“When it’s under the military version of a librarian uniform, I’d say so.”

She grinned as her right stocking went flying over his shoulder, then slid down so she was standing, and turned over so she was bent over the desk.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the idea,” he said, “but you really want to start off that way?”

“No, but you’re not gonna be able to get this skirt off, otherwise.”

“Ah.” He reached for it, but she shrugged him off, stood, and turned.

“Actually, sit down.” She pulled him around and pushed him into his chair, then stood in front of him. After unbuttoning and stepping out of her skirt, she straddled him.

He stared up at her. “Take charge type, huh?”

“I’m in the Marines, aren’t I?”

“Touché,” he answered with a smile.

She leaned over to kiss him as she unbuttoned her shirt and cast it to the side, then draped her legs over his and sat on his lap. Wrapping her legs around the back of the chair, she leaned in close to him.

“So,” she said, nibbling his earlobe, “do you have any specific plans,” and lightly kissing his jawline, “for this afternoon,” and nipping at his neck, “or were you just going to wing it?”

“I figured we could wing it,” he answered distractedly.

She pulled herself in tighter and swayed against and on top of him. “Well … let’s get to it.” She kissed him hard.

Suddenly, she found herself being lifted away from him. He grinned wickedly. “I can cheat,” he smirked.

“Hey, as long as sex is involved, cheating is allowed,” she replied with a smile.

He got out of the chair, rolled it to the side, and set her down on the ground, then turned her so she was facing the desk. “I’ve just noticed there’s a mirror on the un-windowed part of this door, and I think that’s going to come in handy,” he said.

She looked at the door. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

He came up behind her. “Nothing like being able to watch at the same time, eh?”

She grinned. “Well, maybe making a video, but I left the camera at home today.”

“Damn.” He bent over her, and ran a finger lightly up the inside of her thigh. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine as the maddeningly teasing digit fluttered over her most sensitive areas.

“Well, _that_ didn’t take much,” he said.

“So are you going to just stand there and admire the merchandise, or are you gonna do something with it?” she taunted.

He mock-glared, positioned himself, and fully sheathed himself in her. She cried out in surprise, then moaned in pleasure. “Now that’s more like it,” she gasped.

Anakin leaned over her again. “Are you the soft and gentle type?”

“Are you kidding? If there aren’t bruises, it wasn’t good, baby.”

She didn’t have to look in the mirror to know he was grinning. “I think I can handle that,” he said. “You realize this won’t set a speed record, but it’s not going to be any Barry White, three-hours-later bit, right?”

She shook her head. “Just quit talking and fuck me, dammit – we can talk next time!”

She watched the amber rise in his eyes as he sank his nails into her hips, pulled almost all the way out, and then rammed himself back into her.

She dimly noticed the fact that the desk was moving across the room, and that they were making enough noise to echo down the hallway.

“Don’t worry, I took care of that,” he murmured.

Her nails scraped varnish as he continued hammering her. As they screamed their release in unison, she could feel blood running down her legs from his fingernails still digging into her hips.

“Holy shit,” she gasped. He stepped backward and let her go, and she looked down at her hips. “Goddamn, no one’s done that in awhile.” She grinned. “That earns you extra points.”

Anakin smiled. “Good. I’ll let you pick the next position, how’s that?”

“Oh, I was going to do that anyway,” she said, and swung him around back into his office chair. She knelt between his legs and looked up at him.

He grinned. “See, this is how it’s supposed to go.”

She raised an eyebrow. “If you’re gonna go chauvinistic on me, I’m gonna get dressed and go home … sir.”

“That mouth is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

Leaning forward, she ran the tip of her tongue over his quivering shaft. “Oh yeah?”