Meant to be Together - Part 3

Title: Meant to be together

Author: Beverly

Author's Contact: [email protected]

Archive: Permission to archive granted to Archers_Enterprise, ENTSTSlash, MEG-Archive, reedsarmory, reedsarcheryrange, and whoever wants to have�just let me know where

Rating: NC-17, slightly tissue-alert in Part 3, but with a happy ending

Status: complete

Series: none

Sequel to: none

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Warnings:� none

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: the usual�me nothing�Paramount everything�*sigh*�just having my fun with the boys.

Beta: mainly the wonderful Mareel, queen of drabbles and grammar. Stormy for her wonderful reaction about Part 1, and Grainn� for her interesting thoughts, also Part 1.

Summary: Jon has an interesting meeting on an alien planet which openes him his eyes�finally.

Author's Notes: The �alpha-team�, mentioned in Part 3, is a tv-series here in germany. It�s similar to �Emergency Room�. I love it (alpha-team) and watch it every Thursday. The most interesting thing about it, that Dr. Eberhard Scheu is really gay (the character, not the actor). Anyone who wants to take a look at all the people I wrote about, just go to http://www.sat1.de/serien/alphateam/alphateam/ . That�s it. Have fun and pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaase�send me feedback�just a little word, a tiny crumb�thank you.



Meant to be together

Part 3

Hamburg, 2004, Hansa-Hospital, Emergency Admissions


�Dr. Voss, Dr. Scheu, please come to Emergency Admissions.�

The voice from Senior Nursing Officer Gisela Ebert was ringing through the hospital, informing the two men that once again something had happened in the big city of Hamburg at night. Sighing, Dr. Eberhard Scheu put down his coffee, and hastily made his way to Emergency Admissions. He arrived together with Dr. Robert Voss, just in time for the ambulance. The four paramedics pulled down the gurney carefully, and Eberhard had to swallow. He had seen a lot in his years in the ER, but this was enough to make him heartsick.

A man was lying on the gurney, his face almost completely swollen, dark with bruises, and covered with blood. His right arm was extending in a strange angle, and an IV was fastened to his left arm.

 �What do we have here?� Eberhard asked, keeping his voice professional.

One of the emergency doctors answered. Eberhard knew him well. His name was Erich, and usually they were flirting a bit, but not this time. Erich�s face was dark with anger, an expression Eberhard had never seen before on the young man�s features.

 �White, male, about thirty. He has at least two broken ribs. His right arm is broken in two places, and he might have a concussion. But his pulse is steady, his blood-pressure is by 130 over 80. He had been beaten up by some Neo-Nazis. An eldery couple had watched them, called the police, and then us. Apparently he was just leaving a gay-bar on the Reeperbahn. And those idiots saw that. You know their sick minds��

Now Erich looked up for the first time, his blue eyes clouded with sorrow. Then he swallowed, and tried his best to regain his composure. Markus, another of the ambulance men, knew about Erich and his feelings, and continued when he saw Dr. Voss' face darken. Dr. Voss wanted facts, not some homophobic talking.

�He regained consciousness every now and then for a few minutes. He�s speaking English, and he said his name was Sgt. Malcolm Reed from the USAF. He seemed to remember everything. He even gave us a summary of his injuries.�

 Surprised, Eberhard raised his head.

�That�s exceptional for a man in such a bad condition.�

The patient coughed slightly, and with a lot of effort he opened one eye.

�Normally I�m in pretty good shape. But there were five of them, and so �I could have taken three, but not five.�

Coughing, his head fell back again. Eberhard took one corner of the blanket the man was lying on, and looked at Robert.

�By three�one�two�three.�

Together he, Robert and two of the paramedics moved the injured man onto a bed. The man quietly murmured something in English. Eberhard looked at Robert Voss.

�So, how good is your English?�

Robert shook his head.

 �I understood almost nothing. He has a very strange accent. I guess we have to call a translator.�

He gazed at Sister Dorothea, the Deaconess, who was standing right behind him, ready when needed.

�Sister Dorothea, don�t we have someone new on the team tonight? An exchange-doctor? From America?�

Sister Dorothea shook her head. Her warm, friendly voice answered immediately.

�He is from Munich, but his English is excellent since he studied two years in Los Angeles.�

Robert made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

�Whatever. Please, Sister Dorothea. Go and get me this man. We need someone who speaks English.�

 Then he turned to Dr. Jaspers.

 �We need a radiography from his thorax in two layers. And call Martina, the anesthesiologist. Here,� he gave Till, the young male nurse a sample of blood.  �We need his blood group, and some preserves. Bring this to the lab, and tell Veronica to hurry up. Dr. Jaspers, we will need you in the OR. Tell them to make OR 2 ready.�

Dr. Jaspers, the internist, nodded and left the room in a hurry.

 Sister Dorothea returned; right on her heels was Dr. Jonathan Arkerun, an excellent surgeon with great skills.

�Where is he?�

Eberhard waved the tall man nearer.

 �Over here, Doctor. He�s from England. Or America. I can never tell the difference. But he seems to be conscious, maybe you can talk to him. You know, the usual: name, address, where he comes from, why the hell he went to a gay-bar at the Reeperbahn at night of all places.�

Now the man opened again one of his eyes, murmuring.

�Where am I?�

Dr. Arkerun moved closer to the young man, and gasped. It nearly broke his heart to see a face as beautiful as this beaten up like that. But he pulled himself together.

�You are in the Hansa-Hospital. Can you tell me your name?� he softly said in English.

 The opened eye locked on the doctor.

�You understand me?�

Smiling, Jonathan nodded.

�My name is Dr. Jonathan Arkerun. And who are you?�

�My name�s Reed. Sgt. Malcolm Reed, from the USAF, I�m on leave

here in Hamburg. I wanted to see the Reeperbahn, and then��

He coughed heavily, and Eberhard pushed Jonathan aside. Together with Robert he wheeled the bed out of the shock room. On his way out, he called over his shoulder.

 �We have to operate him now. Let�s get him quickly in the OR, and afterwards he can tell you anything we need to know. Jonathan, it would be good if you could stay around, okay?�

Jonathan nodded, smiling at Eberhard, though before his inner eye he still saw the heavily beaten face. After a few minutes of silence, he turned to Sister Dorothea, who was silently cleaning up the mess the team had left.

�What had happened, Sister Dorothea?�

She didn�t stop in her work while answering the question.

 �We�re not quite sure yet, but Erich, the doctor on the ambulance, told us, that he was the victim of some Neo-Nazis, who saw him as he was leaving a gay-bar.�

Jonathan�s face fell.

�And that�s it? That�s the reason they�ve beaten this poor guy half to death? Just because he might be gay?�

Dorothea nodded. She sensed something in the older man. The years she had spent working here on the alphateam, had heightened her senses incredibly. She was almost sure that the horror she could now see clearly in the handsome features of the doctor in front of her was based on more than just on his sense of justice.

She had also noticed the looks between Dr. Scheu and him, and because she knew of Dr. Scheu�s sexuality, she guessed the same about Dr. Arkerun. She watched him, standing there, staring at the floor, lost in his own thoughts. He was tall, at least 1,90m, and lean. His light brown hair was a little longer than usual, his green eyes, normally sparkling with humor, were now dark, his gaze intense.

 His gaze.

Without her noticing, Jonathan had raised his head and was now looking Dorothea directly in the eyes.

 �A penny for your thoughts, lovely sister.�

The smile had returned, and she knew she had been caught staring. But she had seen too much, had experienced too much to be ashamed. She reciprocated his look without any shyness.

�I was just thinking why someone should want to kill a man, just because the other man loves a man, and not a woman.�

His face hardened at her words. He pushed himself away from the table he�d been leaning on and strolled to the big window, which showed him the reception of the EA. His hands came together on his back, folded.

 He watched all those familiar faces. Gisela, handling the reception desk with her usual charm and ease. Helmut, running around, dictating to all the nurses and being absolutely irreplaceable here.

 Without turning around, he answered the question, his voice quiet,

 �I would give everything I have, everything I possess, and everything I ever learned, to find an answer to that question, my lovely sister.�

He felt more than he saw her presence at his side. Gently she lay a hand on his arm.

 �They will patch him up, Dr. Arkerun. I�m sure about it.�

�I know. I just feel so helpless,� Jonathan shook his head, �I�m waiting here, Sister Dorothea.�

Smiling the Deaconess patted his arm.

 �I�d prefer �lovely sister�. Do you want a coffee?�

A little sparkle reappeared in the remarkable eyes of the doctor, and he nodded.

 �That would be nice, my lovely sister. But just tell me where I can find it. I don�t want to cause any inconveniences.�

�Pah! Nonsense. I�m ready here anyway. Come with me. I know a place where we can wait undisturbed.�



The operation lasted four hours. One of the ribs had found its way into Sgt. Reed's lung, and it took all the abilities and skills of Dr. Voss and Dr. Scheu to fix it. Twice his blood pressure went down dramatically, one time they had to re-animate him.

 But finally they closed the last incision, wiping the sweat from their foreheads.

 Eberhard looked at Martina, the anesthesiologist, and smiled.

�I guess that�s it. Now put him to the recovery room, and let�s see how he�s feeling when he�s awake again.�

Martina nodded, and carefully pulled Sgt. Reed back to the land of the living.



~beep~beep~beep~beep~

The noise was insistent. And disturbing. Somehow hurting. His head hurt. His lungs burned with every breath he took. Slowly Malcolm opened his right eye. The left was still closed. He couldn�t open it. White ceiling�white walls�and the unnerving ~beep~beep~beep~ from the monitor next to his bed� a hospital.

With a deep and frustrated sigh, Malcolm closed his eye again.

 It had happen again.

 Once again he had been beaten. And just because he�d been on the wrong place at the wrong time.

 �Decided to join us again?�

An amused voice caused Malcolm to open his right eye again. He got a blurry vision from a man in a white doctor�s coat.

 �Who are you?�

The oval of the face came nearer.

 �My name is Dr. Jonathan Arkerun. I�m a surgeon, and � well, I�ah�I�m kind of an interpreter. You said your name is Malcolm Reed?�

Malcolm nodded.

 �Sgt. Malcolm Reed.�

 He couldn�t see the face quite clearly, but he could hear the smile in the voice as the man answered,

 �I�m sorry, Sgt. Reed. Where are you from?�

The eye closed again.

�Why do you want to know?�

A sigh.

�It�s my job, Sergeant. So, please, where are you from?�

A deep sigh.

 �Originally, I�m from England. But I last worked for the United States Air Force. I�m off duty for six months. I�m visiting here in Hamburg, staying with a � a friend.�

�Kind of an English man in New York?�

The voice sounded friendly, referring to the well-known Sting song.

 Malcolm laughed slightly, but the laughing evolved into heavy coughing, It took him a few second to regain his composure.

 �I guess you could say that.�

Suddenly the doctor�s voice sounded serious again, though he was talking more quietly now.

�Can you tell me what happened? We had to inform the police, and they might be here soon.�

�The police?�

�Yes.�

�Why?�

�Why what?�

�Why did you had to inform the police?�

Now the surgeon sounded a little bit confused.

�You�ve been the victim of an assault. We HAD to inform the police. It�s our duty. So, will you tell me what happened?�

�No!�

Malcolm turned his face away from the man in the white coat.

�No?�

Now Dr. Arkerun sounded really surprised.

�Why not?�

Malcolm�s voice sounded stronger now.

�It is nothing of your concern.�

Silence. Then�

�Why did you came out of that gay-bar?�

Malcolm turned his head slowly, and stared at him with a deadpan expression in his eyes, before he answered.

 �What do you think?�

 �Are you�?�

��gay? Yes.�

�But what about the infamous �Don�t ask, don�t tell�?�

Malcolm snorted slightly, and that was his only reply. Jonathan watched the face of the younger man. When all the bruises, the swollen eye and the bandages were away, he had to be beautiful.

 Something stirred inside him. Something hidden deeply. Something that he had desperately tried to forget in the last six or seven years.

 Lust. Desire. And the profound wish to protect. He carefully took the hand of the younger man.

 �I want to help you. Me, and the whole alphateam. But you have to trust us. You have to help us, too. And you have to tell us what happened.�

Gray met green. And with a faltering voice Malcolm began to tell him the events of the evening.



The police made their notes, promised to do everything within their power and left again.

Exhausted, Malcolm sank back into the cushions. He had left a few things out, such as the name of his companion, the name of the bar, and his sexual orientation. Through the whole questioning, Dr. Arkerun had stayed at his side. For that he was very grateful. It had given him comfort and strength.

Now he was tired, and closed his eyes, trying to sleep.

 But�

�Why didn�t you tell them what you told me?�

Malcolm slowly opened his eye.

�I did.�

�You didn�t. You didn�t give them the name of the bar, you didn�t tell him that your companion was another gay man, and that he ran away, leaving you alone, so that these bastards could beat the shit out of you.�

Malcolm closed his eye again, and repeated his words from earlier that night.

�It was none of their concern.�

He heard the soft footfall as the doctor stepped closer, followed by the screeching noise of a chair being pulled over the floor without being lifted up.

�So.�

Malcolm didn�t react.

�You want to hide forever?�

Sighing Malcolm opened his eye again.

�Listen, Dr�?�

�Arkerun. Dr. Jonathan Arkerun.�

"...Dr. Arkerun. I�m really tired. Could you eventually consider letting me sleep?�

The eye closed again, and Malcolm felt a deep fatigue overcome him. He yawned heartily, not trying to hide it.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder.

�I really want to help you, Sergeant. And I really would like to talk to about the�incident. Therefore I have a reason. Helmut will come later, and arrange the transport to the Main House. When you feel better, we will talk. And that�s a doctor�s order, Sergeant Reed. And now�good night.�

With that Dr. Arkerun walked out of the room, leaving Malcolm to his own dark thoughts.



�three weeks later�

�Good morning, sunshine. Rise and shine.�

The door to his patient�s room was opened energetically, and Dr. Jonathan Arkerun entered, a big smile on his face.

 Malcolm groaned, and pulled the cover up and over his ears, trying to hide from this terrible cheeriness that the doctor was spreading.

 �Go away�� came the muffled reply.

 �No chance, Sergeant. Do you know what day it is today?�

Slowly Malcolm emerged from his hiding, hope shining in his eyes.

 �I can go home?�

Jonathan�s smile grew impossibly wider.

�Yep. I just signed your discharge ticket. One final evaluation, and you can get dressed and go home.�

Now Jonathan�s face lost a bit of his smile.

�Do you have a place to go?�

Malcolm was already busy getting up and getting dressed.

 �Indeed,� he replied over his shoulder. �I�ll have a place where I can fully recover, thank you. And I still have some months left in my vacation.�

Jonathan was still lingering in the doorway, and now closed the door gently behind him. Malcolm looked up, amazed to find him still standing there, with his back to the door, his gaze directed at his shoes.

�Is there something else I can do for you, doctor?�

Jonathan mumbled something that Malcolm couldn�t understand. It had to be German, for he could make out three words. It sounded like �feigling�, �abendessen� and �ausgehen�.

All three were unknown to him. He stepped closer, resting one hand on the doctor�s arm. Jonathan�s head shot up, and the both men were staring into each other�s eyes.

 �Doctor?�

Jonathan heaved a deep breath, before he quietly said,

 �Is there any chance you would consider going out with me? Join me for dinner, perhaps?�

For the first time Malcolm looked really at him and saw not the doctor, but the man. He took in the tall figure, the light brown hair, the green eyes, the enchanting smile.

 And he reciprocated the smile.

 �I would like it very much.�

Jonathan smiled relieved.

 �Tonight? At seven?�

Now Malcolm was surprised.

 �Tonight?�

Jonathan�s smile faded slightly. Damned, it was too soon. He should have waited, he should have suggested a date for next week�next month�next�

�Yes.�

�Yes?�

To say a stone was falling from his heart would have been the understatement of the year.

Now Malcolm smiled for the first time since Jonathan had known him. It was a shy smile, a half smile, a smile that caught the doctor completely off-guard, and he fell. He fell completely and totally in love with that Sgt. Malcolm Reed, US Air Force.

Slightly breathless, he asked,

 �How about Italian?�

�Italian would be fine. When does your shift end here?�

�At six tonight. How about I fetch you at seven?�

The smile stayed on the English-man�s face, as he gave him the address where he would be staying for the next few weeks.

With a handshake that lasted a bit longer than appropriate, the men parted.



�And how did he get the nickname �Trip�?�

Malcolm could barely hide his laughter when he answered the question.

�He was falling over everything that was lying in his way. We used to run away together when his little sister was chasing us. There only had to be one little stone�be sure Charles tripped over it and fell. After a few such incidents his nickname was set. He used to trip�so it was Trip.�

The loud laughter of the older man caused some other guests to turn their heads, but their reaction was only a slight smile in return before they went on eating.

Without even noticing it, Jonathan reached over the table and touched the younger man�s hand.

 And silence fell between them�then�

�Dr. Arkerun��

�Call me Jonathan, please. Or Jon.�

��Jon�what are you doing?�

Slowly Jon entwined his fingers with Malcolm�s, holding his hand tight. But he remained silent.

Malcolm eyed him carefully. The whole evening he had been getting signals he was insecure about. Looks, casual touches, the undivided attention of that extra-ordinary man in front of him.

But he was afraid. Afraid that this man might be just friendly, and that he was reading too much into his little gestures. He had to know, had to be sure�

�Say something�� the English-man whispered, almost pleading. �I have to know what this is all about��

Slowly Jonathan raised the other man�s hand to his lips, and, never leaving those amazing gray eyes, he kissed every finger tenderly.

A shiver ran down Malcolm�s spine and he could feel himself blush.

�What do you do to me?�

�Malcolm��

A soft whisper, barely audible in the soft murmur of the other guests, but it seemed to fill Malcolm�s senses like nothing ever before did. With an unreadable expression in his eyes, he asked the older man,

�Do you believe in love at first sight?�

Now Jonathan had to swallow hard. Once he had believed in it. Once he had experienced it, with a young man named G�nther. But after six months,  G�nther had left him, right after Jonathan had asked him to spend the rest of his life with him.

How Jonathan had loved him. He would have done everything for him. He would have left the Emergency nightshift; he would have taken the dayshift. Or even changed his job completely. Whatever it would have taken.

�You suffocate me with your love!� was all G�nther had said to him, before he had packed his bags, and had left him.

Left him alone, with a broken heart.

And the decision never again to fall head over heels. And he had managed to keep it that way. He�d had affairs with other men after that. But always it had been purely physical. Never ever had he allowed himself to involve his heart again.

And now he was sitting here, in a nice Italian restaurant, in front of a stunningly gorgeous man, whose hand he was holding. And who was doing his best to capture Jonathan's long hidden heart. And who suddenly asked him, if he believed in love at first sight.

�Why do you want to know that?� Jonathan's voice sounded insecure.

�Because I think I have fallen for you, Dr. Jonathan Arkerun.�

And without another word, Malcolm leaned over the table and kissed the surprised man gently on the mouth.

Then he sat back, took his glass of red wine, and drank as if nothing had happened, leaving Jonathan open-mouthed.

And that was the beginning.



�Oh god, Malcolm, yessssss.�

Jon closed his eyes, and leaned back while the talented mouth of his English-man was doing its usual magic to his body. He reached down, and wove his hands into the dark strands of his lover, gently guiding him.

The younger man had three fingers buried deep inside his lover�s body, and his cock in his mouth, gently nibbling up and down, listening to Jon�s deep moans, his sighing and gasping.

He knew the other man was close�so close�just one or two more strokes were all it took� and then Jon came. In long, warm spurts he came in the velvet heat of his lover�s mouth. Gently Malcolm pulled his fingers out of his lover�s warmth, and cleaned them on the nearby cloth that was always laying just within reach.

Breathing hard, Jon pulled Malcolm up to him, and kissed him, hard and longing at first, but soon his kiss became softer, more seductive. Malcolm smiled into the soft mouth.

�I love you, Jon. I love you so much it sometimes scares me.�

Smiling gently, Jon kissed his shoulder.

�It doesn�t have to scare you."

Malcolm's smile faded slightly and he swallowed his disappointment at this reaction. It wasn't what he had expected. But that incredible mouth began to trail a path down his body, and Malcolm closed his eyes, moaning quietly, forgetting what it was he had been worrying about.

Jon slid deeper, kissing and licking along this gorgeous body, until he was finally able to close his lips around the throbbing manhood of his lover. Without letting go of his prey, he reached for the lube on the nightstand, and gently opened his lover up. One finger slid in easily, the second followed only seconds later.

Malcolm was writhing underneath him, moving and bucking his hips in ecstasy, moaning constantly now.

 �Oh please, Jon, please, can you�love, come in me�now�I want you to�oh please�� Malcolm almost sobbed now.

For Jon it was a miracle how he could be hard again, especially with his last climax less than fifteen minutes ago.

But he was, and he didn�t want to muse about the how and why. He quickly lubed himself up, positioned himself at the entrance to his lover�s body, and pushed forward. Slowly, inch-by-inch he glided deeper into the tight heat, and into the love that surrounded him.

They moved in perfect unison, until Malcolm couldn�t hold it back any longer. He arched his back, involuntarily pulling his lover deeper than ever inside him as he came hard, and almost violently. And that did it to Jon, who came a second time, howling like a wolf.

Sweating, they collapsed together in a heap of tangled arms and legs, kissing each other over and over again.

 �I love you, Jon. I love you, love you, love you��

Jon was still trying to regain his breath, saying nothing, just listening to the wildly beating heart of his lover.

Never before had he experienced such love, such trust, and such understanding. But nevertheless he wasn't able to tell his lover what the other man longed to hear so much. His brief relationship with G�nther had shown him that as soon as he loved someone, and told him he loved him, he would lose him. So he was afraid to let anyone into his heart. And never since that day had he ever told anyone those three magic words �I love you�.

They were together for four months now, and everyone at the Hansa Hospital knew about their relationship. Jonathan had never tried to hide it. Every now and then Malcolm came to fetch him in the morning. Or he came in the middle of the night, when he was unable to sleep and knew that Jonathan had to work nightshift at the alphateam.

Now Jon disentangled himself carefully from his lover�s embrace, sat on the edge of the bed, and asked him in a casual tone,

�Shouldn't we get up now? My shift starts in about an hour.�

Malcolm tried his best to hide his disappointment, and swallowed.

�Yes, you�re right.�

Malcolm got up and put on his jeans.

�I�ll make us something to eat, okay?�

Jon only nodded and headed for the bathroom. As the two men sat together over their lunch, the mood was once again lightening up a bit, and after a few minutes they were chatting again in their usual loving way.

When Jon left to go to work, they kissed lovingly, and Malcolm promised to fetch him in the morning.

One final kiss, and Jon was away.



It was five minutes to six the next morning, when Malcolm entered the EA of the Hansa-Hospital. He spotted his lover instantly; he was standing at the reception desk, laughing and joking with Gisela.

Smiling, he came nearer, and cleared his throat to get their attention. Jonathan turned around, saw him and his face lit up.

 �Malcolm. You can�t imagine how good it is to see you after a night like that.�

Gisela gave him one of her loveliest smiles.

�Good morning, Malcolm. So, the rest of the day he is yours. Treat him well, and make sure he can recover properly from all the � stress down here.�

With a questioning expression in his eyes, Malcolm turned to Gisela.

 �You say that as if there�s something I should know?!�

Now Gisela�s laughing eyes searched again for the doctor who was doing his best to appear busy.

�Dr. Arkerun, didn�t you tell Malcolm about our new nurse?�

Now Jonathan blushed, and mumbled something like �no time� and �too busy�.

 Gisela�s laugh became even heartier. Seeing the confused face of the younger man in front of her, she finally explained the situation.

�We have a new nurse. Her name is Ilsa Martin and she seems to have fallen head over heels for your good doctor here. She has a tendency to appear right there where he is. And she�s practically glued to his side. I wonder where�ah�there she is. Now you can see for yourself, Malcolm.�

A young woman came nearer, dressed in the typical nurse's uniform. She was small, almost fragile looking, with long black hair, big blue eyes, and a face to die for. That was�if one liked women. She wore flattering make-up, and her hips had a very seductive swing.

Now she placed herself next to Jonathan, smiled up to him, and pressed herself almost shameless to his side.

Malcolm felt his blood running cold when he suddenly felt Gisela�s hand touch his. He looked up into her friendly face. She gestured quickly to Jonathan and Ilsa, and Malcolm suddenly knew why Gisela had been laughing about her.

She was gazing up at his lover with a look of total and complete adoration on her face. But there was something else. Deeper in those blue eyes lay something that made Malcolm shiver. Something dark, something unreadable.

And suddenly he was on his guard.

There was something lurking there in those blue eyes of Ilsa Martin, just outside of his grasp.

But he was diverted when Jon suddenly addressed him.

�Are you ready flirting with Gisela?�

He looked up and gazed directly in the amused sparkling eyes of his lover. And within seconds he decided to claim this man as his. He leaned closer, and kissed him. And to his complete amazement, Jonathan reciprocated the kiss. With all his heart, with all his soul. They parted only when they heard whistling and encouraging yells. The whistles were coming especially from Eberhard who was standing next to Gisela, his right arm draped loosely around Erich, his lover.

Blushing furiously, they both said goodnight to the alphateam that was waiting for the changing of the shifts. Malcolm�s last look fell on Ilsa, and he swallowed hard. Her face was white, her lips a thin line, her fists clenched and she was almost trembling with fury and rage.

 And Malcolm knew�he had made himself an enemy tonight.



The next day went by uneventfully. They spent a whole lot of it in bed, making love, laughing, kissing. Then they went shopping together, for Malcolm needed some trousers. At home they were undressing each other again very quickly, went to bed again, and made love to each other once more. But when the evening came near, Jonathan suddenly got a strange feeling. A feeling he couldn't quite explain.

Malcolm clung tightly to Jon, refusing to let him go. Laughing tenderly, Jon pressed him to his heart.

�Hey, Liebling, what�s up?�

Malcolm remained silent. Carefully Jon tried to free himself from his lover�s grip, but Malcolm only hold on tighter, murmuring,

"I love you, Jon. Do you know how much I love you? You may never forget that, yes?"

�Malcolm? Malcolm, you scare me. Please, let me get up now.�

Hesitantly Malcolm released his lover who got up and headed for the bathroom, just like every evening.

Dinner was rather silent this evening. And when Malcolm kissed Jon good-bye, he stayed standing in the doorway, looking after him. And silently he whispered,

�I love you, Jon,"

knowing he would never hear the words he so longed for in return. Slowly, he put his hand in his pocket, touching the white envelope with the official sign of the USAF on it. They were calling him back. Back to New York. Sooner than expected. Away from his leave. Away from his love. For a few days he had been determined to retire. To stay in Germany just to be near his lover. But he doubted that Jonathan would ever feel the way Malcolm felt for him. And so he had made his decision. It had almost broke his heart.

And only now, that his lover was out of sight, he let the tears come running and he sobbed quietly, before going to the bedroom to pack his things for leaving.

The letter he�d written the day before would explain everything Jonathan needed to know. And Malcolm would try to go on.



It was five minutes to six in the morning, the usual time for Malcolm to come and fetch his lover.

That strange feeling had disappeared, and Jon was light-hearted again, looking forward to see his lover. In his heart a wall had been broken down that night. He was determined to finally tell Malcolm that he loved him. He was willing to risk it.

When he stepped to Gisela, he was surprised to find her alone.

No Malcolm?

He stepped closer, leaning himself comfortable on the reception desk.

�So, Gisela, another night is over. Time to go home again, huh? I just thought that Malcolm would come and fetch me...�

He looked around but couldn�t find him, and suddenly he noticed the strange silence from Gisela. He turned to her again, studying her face closely.

�Gisela? You alright?�

She swallowed and told him in a quiet voice,

�Malcolm had been here, Dr. Arkerun. But he couldn�t wait for your shift to be over. He was in quite a hurry. He�he asked me to give you that.�

With these words she pulled a white envelope out of a drawer, and handed it over him. The question in his face was obvious as he took it, turning it a few times in his hands. It was a thick envelope with only one word written on it in the distinctive handwriting of his lover.

Jonathan

Jonathan stared at Gisela but she only shrugged helpless, before lowering her gaze again, clearly avoiding any further questions.

With heavy steps he slowly made his way to the nurses� room, and slumped down on the couch.

His fingers trembled as he carefully opened the envelope. Inside he found a single sheet of paper, covered with Malcolm�s accurate writing, five pictures taken over the last four months, and the copy of a letter from the USAF Headquarters, New York, dated two days ago. A few parts were crossed through�confidential parts, he thought.

Though he had difficulties to concentrate on the words, he began reading the letter. He was stunned.

Malcolm was gone.

Malcolm had left him.

And this time his lover hadn�t left him because of too much love, but because he hadn�t shown him enough of his love.

�I always waited for a sign from you. For a sign that showed me you�d love me only half as much as I love you. But that sign never came. And you never told me��

In his mind he screamed the words �But I DO love you, Malcolm. I DO love you so very much it scares me to death. I can�t live without you. How am I supposed to live without you?�

He stared at the pictures. They showed Malcolm over the last few months, his face was getting smaller and his eyes more sad from picture to picture and finally Jonathan noticed what he had done. What he had lost. Malcolm was gone.

Forever.

�Don�t try to find me. Though I don�t believe that you would take on such a strain, a little part inside me still hopes you would a least think about it. But don�t do it. As you know I�m Military, and we have our ways in hiding. You wouldn�t find me. But I will never forget you. I doubt that I will ever love another man the way I loved you. Please, think of me�sometimes.�

Sometimes�for weeks�for months now this man had been his universe, his reason for living. And all that Malcolm asked of him now was that he should think of him sometimes. Unnoticed by him, tears started to flow. Rolling down his cheeks they slowly fell down to earth. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his focus again, to read the other letter.

It was a formal writing from the USAF, ordering Sgt. Malcolm Reed back to base, as soon as possible. The flight was booked, and he was due to report within the next 24 hours.

For what seemed an eternity Jonathan sat there, staring into nothingness. Within less than twenty minutes his whole world had been shattered. Nothing would ever be the same again.

And as this realization hit him with full force, his world narrowed down until the only thing he could see was the picture in his hand. That one, that showed a laughing Malcolm.

The letter fell out of his suddenly feeble fingers. In an almost elegant curve it touched the floor and remained there�unnoticed.

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