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Homecoming

Marc tilted her head up so that he could see her. " I may fling you onto the bed, or over my shoulder, but you are not temporarily in my life."

He kissed her softly, "I won't let go."
 
Chelsea offered a small smile for his words, and playfully warned him, "You better not." She returned the gentle kiss and relaxed against him, before letting out another heavy breath. "I should probably get going. I have class in the morning."
 
Marc nodded and kissed the top of Chelsea's head, "That part of this is less than fantastic. I do understand though."

He leaned against the headboard of the bed as he watched her dress, his eyes drinking her in, as if he were trying to memorize every part of her. Part of him ached so much seeing her ready herself to leave and it was an unfamiliar emotion.

He stood as she finished and collected her into his arms. Kissing her deeply, his hands wrapped around her waist and he cupped her ass cheeks, pulling her close. "Tomorrow afternoon?"
 
Reluctantly she got up and dressed.

She smiles as he pulled her against him and kissed her. "Of course." She kissed him again. "Do you want me to come here or meet me at my house?"
 
Marc thought a moment, "I will meet you there, say 2:00?"

He nibbled on her ear, "I plan on going to the library and look for a job again and see if anything fruitful will come of it."
 
"I won't be home till 5..." She had to fight not melting against him as he nibbled on her ear. She gave him a last kiss on the cheek before pushing herself away from him and heading to the door. "Pleasant dreams," she wished him as she left.

_____

Chelsea pulled her vehicle into the drive of her house after the long day of school. She sighed a silent thank you that it was finally Friday, and no work the next day.
 
He stood for long forlorn minutes at the door wishing, hoping, needing for Chelsea to come back in. When she didn't he turned to the room at large and looked around.

It had appeared large when he checked in, Chelsea's presence made it feel comfortable, but now, at that moment the room was enormous.

He picked up his phone searching job sites which was less than productive. It looked like if he were to stay it would be as an unemployed get, and the streets were full of those already. Though all things said and done, better that than going back home.

He slept fitfully, tossing and turning. His mind playing and replaying every horrible future scenario it could conjure. When he woke in the morning, he dinner his Class A uniform and headed to the police department personnel office.
 
"Got it!" Chelsea called out as she hopped off the couch at the sound of a knock at the door. She was slightly disappointed when she didn't find Marc already at her house when she got home, but figured he was busy with his job search. She hoped he'd be able to stay, but wouldn't blame him if he decided to re-up. There wasn't much left for him here...

She opened the door and immediately felt the need to jump him. That was almost a normal feeling, but with him standing there in uniform...

"Interview today?" she finally managed to ask with a smile.
 
Marc cupped Chelsea's ads as he pulled her close. He murmured, "No, just trying so make connections today."

He stepped into the house with her continuing, "The department is not hiring for another six months or so. I don't think they will be able to help."

He sat on the overstuffed couch with her, "The sheriff's department is hiring in three though."

Shrugging, "Not sure yet how it all will play out. How was your day?"
 
Chelsea sat next time him with her legs criss-crossed. "Long... We dissected sheep brains today." A soft laugh escaped her before she continued, "I was worried about my partner. He seemed like he was going between passing out and throwing up the entire lab. And he wants to be a thoracic surgeon," she added with another laugh and an eye roll.
 
Marc laughed and said, "I need his name, that way I can avoid him unless he becomes a regular doctor."

He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed lightly, "I was thinking we would go to the Jade Dragon for dinner, though I should change out of my uniform before we go. Sound good?"
 
Chelsea gave him a smile and a giggle. "I only know his first name. I'll get his last name on Monday." She leaned closer to him and gave him a quick kiss. "Sure, sounds great."

She hopped up from the couch and grabbed a few things before following him out the door.
 
Marc changed quickly, trying to keep his mind off of the beautiful woman waiting for him. Once changed to a polo and jeans he walked over and kissed Chelsea gently and as he broke the kiss swatted her butt playfully.

"Be prepared to be amazed," he said.

Taking her hand in his Marc led her out to the jeep, opened the door for and jumped into the passenger side. "Jade Dragon," he quipped, "And make it snappy!"
 
Chelsea gave him a look as she started the engine and half rolled her eyes. "Yes sir," she said teasingly as she drove the few miles to the restaurant across town.
 
Marc chatted aimlessly about some of the more mundane places he had seen while traveling abroad as she drove. It took a lot of will power to not attack her while she drove, and thought to himself that perhaps he should sit in the backseat on the way back so he could do just that.

They arrived at the Golden Dragon, and he hopped out of the jeep and came around and opened the door to her side of the car. As she exited and they headed to the entrance, he heard, "Give me your money bud, and nothing happens to you or the little lady."
 
Chelsea appreciated that he'd allowed her to focus and kept his hands to himself as she drove. Though, very deep down, she was a little disappointed as well.

She froze in place at the mugger's words, and glanced out of the corner of her eye to Marc. She swallowed as she heard the sound of the man behind clocking his gun, and took a shaky breath.
 
Marc assessed the situation quickly and turned around slowly, his hands out, palms facing the attacker. "Sure man," he said. "Wallet is in my back pocket, but I don't carry more than $20.00 in cash, ever."

Slowly he reached around and pulled his wallet out with the tip of his forefinger and thumb. Bringing his arm around, he whipped the wallet past the muggers head, and as the mugger watched it fly past, Marc attacked.
 
She saw the wheels turning as he assessed the situation. This couldn't have been too foreign of a situation for him, considering he'd only been home for a week. When he moved to subdue the mugger, she hurried away, looking over her shoulder. Pulling her cell phone out, she hastily called 911 and stumbled over her words as she gave their location and a brief description of the man and what was happening.
 
Marc swatted the hand with the gun to the side with his right hand as his left hand shot up at the mans throat. The almost familiar sensations of a gunshot and flesh collapsing under his fist flooded Marc's mind and suddenly he was back in the desert.

In a moment, their assailant was disarmed and on his back with a dislocated arm, and Marc's powerful hands squeezing around his throat restricting his breathing.
 
Several yells and screams could be heard around them as the sound of the gunshot echoed through the parking lot. Who was hit? Far off sirens of police vehicles sang as they drove across town.

Chelsea saw that far away look again, much like when he had the nightmare a few nights before. "Marc!" The man under his hand kicked violently and grasped at Marc's hand in his throat. He struggled to breathe between the pressure there and the pain of his arm bring dislocated. "Marc, don't kill him!" she called out.
 
Marc heard Chelsea and knew she was worried about 'scumbag's life. It was cute he thought, but not necessary, this situation he knew and has under control.

"He's okay, babe," Marc said. "Doing way less violence to him than he deserves."

Marc looked down and said, "Stop fighting, or I will hold you like this until the cops show."

As the man stopped fighting Marc eased up on choking him and said, "Roll over clasp hands behind your neck."
 
The man did as told, the look of realization crossing his face that he picked the wrong couple. He rolled over and putting his hands behind his neck. Screeches of tires came as several police vehicles pulled into the lot, then officers hopping out with guns at the ready.

Chelsea stayed back, watching and studying Marc. At least it seemed like the gunshot went wide and didn't hit him.
 
After the cops arrived came the hour of telling his story, telling it again, and so on. Crime scene work was hard enough when working the scene but as a participant it was worse. By the time it was over, part of Marc wished he had just given the dude his wallet.

After all was said and done he turned to Chelsea and asked, "Shall we have dinner now?" And with a smile, "Or skip to dessert?"
 
Chelsea gave her statement to several different officers. She was mentally exhausted when everything was said and done, and the police finally left. She gave half a shrug to his question. "I don't know if I'm really that hungry anymore."
 
Marc nodded, she looked worn out. He opened the door for her and said, "Maybe we she get a six pack and hang out instead."

He figured that the situation probably traumatized her, and he thought back and felt he handled it appropriately after all the guy was still alive.

As she sat in the jeep he closed the door then went around to the passenger side and sat down. "If you want to do something different that is okay too."
 
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