Willful Hearts
Rating: O18W for sexual situations
Summary: Rick and Lisa fight, then make up.
This story takes place about three years after the end of The Macross Saga. It's kind of in keeping with events as they are presented in "The Zentraedi Rebellion" by Jack McKinney, although I never can be too bothered with stuff
like chronology.
"Turn it off," Lisa snapped as she entered the kitchen. She rummaged
in the cabinet for a coffee mug, slammed the cabinet door shut just a
little too loudly, then poured herself a steaming cup from the automatic
coffee maker.
Rick managed to look both annoyed and chagrined as he turned off the
radio sitting on the kitchen table, which had been cheerfully blaring
Minmei's "Stagefright." "Sorry."
"I'll bet." She stifled a groan when Rick's back stiffened. Great,
she thought wearily. Here it comes --
"It's just a goddamn song, Lisa," he said angrily. He shoveled more
eggs into his mouth and chewed vigorously, making the action look
almost violent.
Something ripped inside of her and she slammed the mug down on
the counter top, dimly surprised it didn't shatter on impact. "Why do
you always get so defensive?" she asked, knowing an answer would
not be forthcoming. "Guilty conscience?" She winced as soon as
the words spilled from her mouth, immediately realizing that she'd
gone too far.
He got up from the table, glared at her. "Yeah, that's it exactly," he
sneered. "I'm screwing Minmei whenever I'm not with you. Happy
now?"
Lisa massaged her temples and closed her eyes, willing the argument
to go away. "Do we have to get into this before I've even had my first
cup of coffee?" she moaned.
"You know what? You can get into it all by yourself," Rick snarled.
He grabbed his keys and left. The bang of the closing front door
echoed behind him.
Lisa sighed into the emptiness of the kitchen, then took a resigned
sip of coffee. When would they stop doing this to each other? she
wondered. When will I be able to just let it go? They had so little time
together, since she'd started living up at the factory satellite. She was
only here for another couple weeks, and she supposed she should be
making every effort to make their precious time together as pleasant as
possible. But she couldn't help it. The mere mention of that woman's
name, the sound of her voice, made her so crazed she couldn't even
see straight. If only...
She groaned when she realized that she and Rick both had a meeting
later in the day. How was she supposed to stand up to a bunch of resistant,
truculent martinets without his backing and support?
She instantly acknowledged to herself that the thought was unworthy of
him. No matter how angry with her he might get, he would still echo her
ideals and plans for the mission, presenting a united front to the rest of the
council. She wasn't sure at the moment whether that fact made her happy
or irritated the hell out of her.
Right now? The latter. Definitely.
The truth of it was, they'd been arguing a lot lately -- well, okay, more than
usual, at least -- and she wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was just the
continued stress of managing the REF, and of having to be apart so much.
Or maybe it was that they had now been engaged for almost two years.
The honeymoon, so to speak, was over.
She sighed again and finished the rest of the coffee. She toyed with the idea
of eating the rest of Rick's eggs, but couldn't bring herself to do it. It was
starting to get late, anyway. "Duty calls," she mumbled.
God, she needed a vacation. Too bad Tahiti was probably still radioactive.

****
"I trust there are no further questions, gentlemen?" Lisa asked in as steely
a tone of voice as she could muster. She stared down the gleaming wood
conference table. A couple of the men seated there fidgeted; others kept
their jaws firmly clenched. Exedore, seated at her right side, had said little
during the meeting, but had nonetheless radiated support, and she was
grateful for that. Rick, for his part, stared straight ahead. He hadn't caught
her eye once during the meeting. If that was the way he wanted to play it,
then so be it.
"Fine. You'll receive my new recommendations on mission protocols
tomorrow. Any further problems, please address them directly to me." In
other words, don't sit around and gossip about it behind my back, she
thought sourly.
No response. "You're dismissed," she said, probably overstepping her
bounds a bit, since not everyone present was of lower rank. But at this
point, she simply didn't care.
She watched their retreating backs as they filed out of the room, Leonard, the
last one in line, closing the door behind him. She wondered how long it
would be before Leonard in particular caused more trouble. Hopefully he'd
at least give them a bit of a breather...she exhaled, loudly, then turned her
attention back to the table.
Rick was still sitting there.
Determined not to give him the upper hand, she began gathering her notes,
placing them in her attache case. "Do you have something to add, Admiral?"
she asked, studiously neutral.
He cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."
She folded her arms in front of her chest, trying to ignore the niggling of
desire that curled in her chest whenever she looked at him in his uniform.
If only the thing wasn't so damn snug...
"You, ah...did a great job, just now," he said quietly.
Not the response she was expecting. "Thanks," she said warily.
He continued in a rush, "I was still pissed at you when I got here, you know,
and then you were just so...so capable, so great, the way you handled
those stuffed shirts..." He looked up at her, smiled slightly, then shrugged.
"It, uh, it reminded me of why I love you so much."
She drew in her breath, her heart beating erratically. "I'm sorry about this
morning," she said softly, meaning it.
"Me too." He barked a short laugh. "I hate fighting with you, but you
have to admit, we do it so well...must be all that practice, huh?"
She shook her head and walked over to where he was sitting. He reached
up to place his hands at her waist. "I can think of other things we do better,"
she said, and leaned over to kiss him.
They kissed slowly for a while, tongues gently flickering over each other,
lips parting and meeting again and again in a leisurely dance. Then
Rick rose from his seat and pressed up against her, backing her up
against the table. The edge of it dug into her back, but she didn't complain.
Their kisses were rougher now, need building within them all too rapidly.
His hands were everywhere suddenly, on her hips, her thighs, her breasts.
She let out a soft moan against his mouth.
"Is the door locked?" he asked, his voice deep and harsh.
She shook her head. "Rick, we can't --" But he was already at the door,
locking it securely. On his way back toward her he begin peeling off his
uniform. "Rick..."
"Sorry, babe," he said, throwing off his shirt, then pushing her up against
the table once more. "But I have to have you right now, so..." He trailed
off and kissed her again, his hands reaching up to clasp her face.
God. She couldn't resist him. Never could. Her knees sank a little and
she leaned in to the kiss, running her hands over the hardened muscles
on his bare chest. She began to work the fastenings of her own uniform,
but he stopped her.
"I want to," he said firmly.
She watched as he undid her uniform jacket, slid it down her arms, then
did the same with her shirt, gently but deliberately, focused on his goal. He
kissed her bare shoulders, her neck, caressed her breasts through her
lacy bra until it took every ounce of willpower for her not to squirm. Pleased
with her reaction, he lifted her up and placed her on top of the polished
table, then deftly removed her knee-high uniform boots. The rest of her
clothing soon followed.
When she was completely free of clothing, he stopped and took a moment
to swiftly slip out of the rest of his own uniform. She was possessed by a
hilarious sense of unreality, looking at him standing there, naked in the
conference room. She chuckled softly. "Could you imagine if Exedore
knew what we were using this room for right now?"
He laughed, the sound loud in the echoing room. "He'd have a coronary
on the spot."
She reached out for him, and he entered her embrace, easing her back
onto the flat surface of the table, then climbing on top of her.
This was just too much. She laughed again.
He shook his head, grinning down at her. "You're not going to throw a
giggle fit on me, are you?"
She suppressed another laugh. "Make me stop," she challenged him.
He covered her mouth with his, and laughter was forgotten. His hands
kneaded her breasts, rolling the nipples between thumb and forefinger as
he continued kissing her, kissing her until she was moaning into his
mouth, consumed by the feelings his mouth and hands were stirring
within her.
Finally, after an eternity, he pulled his mouth from hers. "Love me?"
he whispered, blue eyes glinting.
She could only nod, beyond speech.
He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. "Good." Then she gasped
as he reached down and stroked her between her legs, finding the right
spot and massaging gently. Her hips rose and fell beneath his hand
as he slipped one, then two fingers inside of her, his thumb continuing
to caress that tender nub.
She felt self-conscious, suddenly, the way he was watching her so
intently as her breathing grew increasingly more ragged, as her body
responded to him the only way it could. So she reached down and
grasped his swollen sex, caressing that soft steel, and was rewarded
with his low groan.
"No fair..." he whispered. He ceased the manipulation of his fingers, then
grabbed both of her hands and raised her arms above her neck. "I'm way
too close as it is, Lisa, don't ruin it for both of us."
She snorted. "Always did have a mighty high opinion of yourself, Hunter --"
She broke off as she felt his cock against her, searching, and she shifted
her hips so that he could enter her more easily, without taking his hands
from hers.
Suddenly neither of them felt like talking. He began to move in and out
of her, only gently at first, then quickly increasing the intensity of his
movements until they could practically feel the heavy wooden table shake
beneath them. His eyes bore into hers, and the only sound in the room
was the sounds of their lovemaking, of their heavy breathing and occasional
moans.
She lifted her hips higher, and he pushed even deeper into her. She
knew that he was beyond himself now, driven only to one purpose. She
wanted to reach it too, but at the same time didn't want this to end, never
wanted to stop... "I can't stop," she whispered, not even sure she spoke
aloud. "I can't --" And she broke off, crying out, as the orgasm consumed
her, her body shaking, twitching uncontrollably, and then his nails dug
into the soft flesh of her wrists as he spilled over the edge as well, coming
inside her with a strangled groan.
When it was over, neither of them could speak for a while. Lisa reluctantly
suggested they get dressed before someone came knocking at the door.
"Mmm. I don't think I'm done with you yet," Rick said huskily, running his
hand down her naked body one more time.
She moved away from him and hopped off the table, reached for her
uniform on the floor. "Then you'd better hurry up and get dressed so we
can get home and continue this little party, don't you think?"
She didn't think she'd ever seen him get his uniform back on quite
so fast.

end.