Reunion

A/N: For Guinny_Hamilton, who requested Major Mitchell/OFC smut. :)


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The world had been saved, everyone was happy, everything was just great. Matthew Mitchell looked down at his ring and away quickly, breathing in deep and trying not to think about her… after all, that was the only way he’d been able to function the past few days. He’d even thought about taking the ring off to help him concentrate on his job, but every time the fingers of his right hand went to touch it he’d been afraid that it would get lost. The major didn’t consider himself an overly superstitious man but he had a strange feeling that if he took it off, she’d know somehow. Either that or he wouldn’t be able to find her again, like his wedding band connected them in more ways than just matching hers. Deep in the farthest corner of his mind, he felt like if he left it on, that meant she was still alive.

It was July 6th, and he was still needed at his post in Area 51 – the place was a mess and he was the only one who knew how to get it up and running again. Major Mitchell sighed, rubbing his eyes as he turned away from the radar screen he’d been checking off and on, making sure that no more ETs were in their airspace. “Better Safe Than Sorry,” was the current motto. He could have told them it should be more like, “Too Little, Too Late.” The President was still around, running things from a corner of the main lab that had been cordoned off – there was really no place safer for him, since the White House had been destroyed.

He kept himself from looking at his ring once more as Whitmore came to check on the latest reports of civilian casualties, and he handed them over to the Commander in Chief as soon as the man stopped by his station. “How much longer will we have to wait for accurate body counts?”

“It’ll probably be a long while, Sir,” he replied. “We’re still working on getting some sort of effective communication system up and running.” He started to rub his thumb against the underside of his ring unconsciously.

The President nodded absently and handed back the reports. “Hopefully it won’t take too long since… I didn’t realize you were married,” he said suddenly. “Is she…?”

Mitchell realized what he’d been doing and picked up a nearby file. “I have no idea, Mr. President.” He cleared his throat. “Would you like me to check with the ground crews and-”

Whitmore waved his question away and clasped his shoulder. “Go look for your wife, Major. We’ll hold it together until you get back.”

“Sir…?”

“Go, Major.”

“Yes, Sir!”

It took him two days of searching – their home had been in ruins, and her sister’s house looked as if it had been burned to the ground – before he found one of their neighbors who could tell him where she’d seen Sara last. Apparently she’d left when their area had been evacuated, and a group of people who had been living on the base’s land had moved to one of the underground bunkers that were no longer in use. He hadn’t even thought of checking there for survivors, since hardly anyone even remembered about it.

When he finally arrived in the middle of the night, only a few of them were still awake but very grateful that they’d been found – he reassured them that he’d get them out back into civilization (what was left of it) and pried his sister-in-law off of him long enough to ask where Sara was, with a promise that he’d get help first thing in the morning.

Mitchell took the lighted candle carefully, trying not to spill the hot wax over his hand as his hand shook uncontrollably while he walked to the room where his Sara was sleeping. She was curled up on her side when he came in, and he set the candle down quickly as tears of relief filled his eyes. Kneeling beside the makeshift pallet where she slept he gazed at her soundlessly, content to simply look at her – she was even more beautiful than he remembered. “Sara?” he whispered.

Sara stirred and opened her eyes to look at him sleepily. “You’ll be gone when I blink,” she sighed, closing her eyes again.

“Sara,” he whispered again, crawling closer to touch the exposed skin of her shoulder lightly.

She cracked her eyelids open slightly. “Are you really here?”

He laughed. “I really am.” Sara bolted upright and stared wide-eyed at him before flinging herself into his arms with a strangled sound, burrowing close and starting to cry as he stroked her hair and clutched her to his chest. “I was so scared that something had happened to you.”

Sara pulled away slightly to begin covering his face with frantic kisses, and he felt lust well up sharply as the tide of intense relief passed. “Oh, Matt…” her small hands worked on the fastenings of his fatigues and he moved away from her just enough to shuck his clothing as fast as he could while she did the same, desperate for the reassurance only intimate contact could provide. Then she was pulling at him, spreading her legs and guiding him inside her. He rolled his hips forward and loosed a low groan as his cock slid deep into her wet, welcoming warmth. “Yes – just like that, harder,” Sara moaned in his ear, her hands scrabbling at his back as he shifted his hips.

Her moans became more frantic as he complied, and she muffled her scream against his shoulder as she shook with the force of her orgasm. A few more thrusts and he spilled into her, throwing his head back and struggling not to cry out. “I love you,” he panted, sliding his hands up her body to cup her face. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she whispered back, her fingers running over the muscles of his chest and arms.

He kissed her once more and dipped his head to touch his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of licks and sucking kisses down her body. Pausing at her breasts, he ran his tongue over her nipples until she was tugging at his hair and begging softly, then continued to nuzzle at the smooth skin of her stomach until he was positioned between her thighs and Sara was nearly delirious with need. She gasped his name as he kissed, caressed and did various other things with his lips and tongue that made her arch off the floor uncontrollably. He rubbed his tongue against her clit and pumped his first two fingers inside her while her fingers tangled in his hair and she came again, still trying to keep quiet.

Mitchell curled around her, already uncomfortably hard but content to simply hold her…he’d come close enough to losing her as it was; he could wait a little longer to take his own pleasure. They murmured words of love to each other, unwilling to sleep just yet. “So, they’re gone?” Sara finally asked, snuggling close.

He kissed her temple. “Yeah, they’re gone.”

“I’ll bet my brave Major Matthew scared them off,” she giggled, making him smile.

“Not exactly.”

He told her what had really happened and she twisted around in his arms to face him, round-eyed with awe. “Just the same, I’m glad you didn’t go up there… I’d be worried sick!”

“You didn’t even know what I was doing,” he teased, stroking her hair back from her face.

“Well, still.” His petite wife pushed him onto his back and climbed astride his hips slowly. “You’re still my hero.” She placed him at her entrance and sank down upon him, moaning as she took his length. He placed his hands on her hips and guided her up and down until her sighs started to build once more, then thrust up inside her. Sara’s internal muscles started to squeeze him and he groaned her name as he came so hard that he thought he was going to pass out. She collapsed onto his heaving chest, her body still clutching him in spasms. “Matt…”

“God, Sara… that was…” he sighed, encircling her with his arms and shifting slightly to keep her firmly against him as he slowly softened inside her. Sleepily sated and more satisfied than he’d ever been, Mitchell reached for the thin blanket that had been hastily discarded when she’d woken up to see him. In the morning, he’d take her back to the base and keep her there with him – and to hell with anyone who had a problem with that. That reminded him of their phone conversation the day before all hell broke loose. “Baby, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

She mumbled against his neck sluggishly. “Mmmm?”

“Remember, on the phone last week? It probably doesn’t matter now,” he yawned.

Sara abruptly giggled. “Oh, I was just going to tell you that you were going to be a father. G’night.”

“Wait, what? ” He asked, startled.

“’S a boy,” she muttered. “C’n tell ‘im all about how brave you are.”

“You know, I shot one of those aliens myself,” he bragged.

His only response was a soft snore. Mitchell lay awake, breathing in the scent of her hair and smiling. He was going to be a father… he figured he could live with that.

In the morning, he organized the rescue operation and trucks from the base rolled up as he divided the survivors up into groups and took down their names so that he could alert any remaining family they might have – Sara helped him, staying by his side as if he’d disappear again if she took her eyes off him for a single moment. He was surprised by the appearance of Whitmore in the truck, but slipped an arm around Sara’s shoulders as the President walked up. “Well, Major; I see you found what you were searching for,” the other man greeted.

Mitchell looked down at the woman he loved more than life itself and smiled before looking back up at Whitmore. “Yes Sir, I did… Mister President, I’d like you to meet my wife Sara.”


~fin~
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