What Rocket Scientists Want

Part 2

by Verve
9/18/01

The darkness gave way to a gentle fog that caressed his aching body. All around him the air was alive with the sounds of birds crying out and the waves that touched his feet lapping against the shore. His head ached, and his mouth was dry, and salty. His clothes fell from his body in tatters, revealing his rippling muscles and sea-soaked skin. A piece of driftwood came to shore near his left hand. He looked into the fog to see the faint black outlines of a ship as torn and tattered as the shirt on his well-formed back. As he peered into the mist, a figure came towards him out of the water.

"Dwayne." At first the voice was soft, beautiful and drifting like the fog. Erica? he thought hazily. But the figure began to emerge from the mist and he saw the faint swaying of hips, long flowing hair, deeply tanned skin and the glint of two emerald eyes. "Dwayne," she repeated. "Finally we are alone," the woman cooed, now standing at his feet.

"Iím sorry, do I know you?" He cocked an eyebrow at her, propping himself up onto on arm.

"How can you not remember me?" She fell desperately, but sensuously, to her knees, her bright lips pleading with Dwayne. "I am the innocent native girl you imprisoned on your ship while searching for buried treasure, only to unwittingly become entranced by my mysterious beauty and spirit, loving me in ways you never thought possible."

Dwayne was confused. However, when he tried to open his mouth in protest the woman pressed a finger against his lips. "Quiet, my love, say no more." She leaned back, moving her hands across the bottom of her threadbare top. "Take me now."

 

"Dear God!!" Dwayne cried out, sitting bolt up in his bed. A feminine scream matched his, startling him as an object arched into the air and landed into his lap.

"I hate it when they do that," the womanís voice rang with shock.

"Trust me, if you had a dream like mine, youíd do that, too." The lieutenant panted slightly, pulling his blankets closer. He was frigid.

"Iím sorry? Iíd do what?" The woman next to him looked perplexed as she moved to pick up the object that had gone flying. Dwayne glanced at it quickly, noticing it was a book by an author heíd never heard of. Who was Louis LíAmour?

"Youíd wake up screaming if you dreamt a Polynesian woman wanted to make love to you." The entire world around him was white, letting him know immediatly that he was in the ship's medical facility. Excluding the woman who was sitting next to him, who had on a loose indigo sweater and light blue jeans. She stood up and turned toward a table directly in front of Dwayne, but a few feet away.

"Great, another victim of Ďdonít ask donít tell.í" She slid across the floor; her blonde hair pulled back and swishing against her neck. "Why is it always the cute ones."

"Iím sorry? What did you say?" His jaw dropped open at her candor.

"I said I should get your temperature." She picked up a small plastic object off of the table she was at and turned around, waving it at him. "You were out there for awhile, and you look absolutely frozen." Striding across the room she thrust the thermometer into his open mouth and clamped it shut with a deft move of her hand. "You're very lucky, you know that? Itís not every day a man gets hit by lightning and survives to tell the tale." She smiled innocently, but put a firm hand on Dwayneís chin to stop his jaw from falling open yet again. Not even a pretty little hair singed off of that noggin of yours.

The lieutenant furrowed his brow. Was he hearing things? He clearly heard her voice, but her mouth hadnít moved. Before he could say a word she chattered on.

"In fact, you owe a coworker of yours a big debt of gratitude. I donít know how they thought to look for you on deck, but they did, and just in the nick of time. Actually, itís not that rare, my cousinís brotherís nephew once was struck by lightning, you know, and he was out for days. Well, he wasnít really the brightest boy to begin with and the bolt sure didnít help that much. You see...."

Dwayne knew he was the only one in the room by the lack of other sound. That meant he had no chance of salvation from the chatter. Then again, it wasnít like not paying attention was a choice. She still had her hand firmly on his chin, holding the thermometer in place. So, he kept his eyes on her as her mouth continued to babble. Suddenly, he heard the voice again.

Heís such a great listener, no glazed-over eyes or anything. Definately gay. Itís really such a pity.

Before Dwayne had time to be taken aback the thermometer rang out.

"98.6!" she sang out triumphantly. "Youíll just feel a little chilly for a while. The rest did you some good, though."

"Rest?" Instantly Dwayne was worried. "How long did I sleep for?" This time another voice popped in from around the corner.

"Two days." It was Joís cheery tone. "Iíd say youíd needed the beauty sleep, but two days would hardly make a dent in that problem."

"Har har," he mocked her as well as he could, but Jo could sense the worry in his tone.

"Is he free to go, Doc?" She looked up at the smiling blonde next to Dwayneís bed.

"Certainly," she chirped, "let me go get his things." She turned around and sauntered towards a door a few feet away. I can see why everyone calls her a frigid b*tch. Dwayne shook his head lightly at the voice in his head.

"Donít be worried." Jo thrust her hands into her back pockets. "You didnít miss a thing while you were out. A few minor domestic glitches, but the kid handled them well without you. Just said the Big Guy was under heavy maintenance and neither of you could be disturbed."

"Good cover, Jo," Dwayne smiled weakly, finally feeling the effects of the past days. "And thanks for saving my butt out there."

"No prob. You were clutching your Big Guy signal. When you were a no-show, we tracked you down. The actual signal turned out to be a false alarm, but you were stone cold out." Jo sat down on the bed next to him. "Had to lug your heavy arse all the way here." And what a nice arse it is, a voice inside his head cooed. Dwayne closed his eyes tightly and shook his head with a palm against his forehead.

"Man, I think that blast did something to me, Iím hearing voices."

"You didnít need to get zapped with a bazillion volts to prove youíre a wacko, Dwayne," Jo just laughed. "I could have told you that already."

"Thanks, Jo," Dwayne moved to get out of his bed, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Thank you so much."

On to Part 2.5!

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