Mothers and Daughters Pt. 07

"No," she said quietly.

"You can relax now," he allowed, and Martha took her hands down from her behind her head, and stood more naturally with her feet close together. Nate stepped toward her, put his left hand behind her neck, pulled her in and kissed her. She opened her mouth and kissed him back and closed her eyes. With his right hand, Nate fondled her left breast, and while the continued to kiss, he slipped his right hand down her tummy until he found her shaven pussy, and started massaging it gently for several seconds.

Nate was about to scold her for failing to open her legs when Martha opened her eyes wide in surprise, broke off his kiss, and opened her legs wide.

"No," Nate scolded her, "you are not supposed to stop kissing me until I stop."

"Excuse me," she said gently, sounding adoring while fighting the urge to inject 'are you stupid?' tone in her voice, "but your rule about touching me between the legs was to stop what I was doing and open my legs, so I stopped kissing you."

"So I did," Nate conceded. "Okay, you're right. In the future, I would like you to continue kissing me when that happens. Let's try it again so you can work on reacting faster when I touch you between your legs."

"Okay," she nodded. He kissed her again, and again she closed her eyes and kissed him back with an open mouth. This time Nate brought his hand directly to her pussy, and she instantly spread her legs wide, and this time continued kissing him. Nate wiggled his middle finger back and forth along her pussy midline, dividing her outer lips as his finger sank deeper between the folds. He landed the tip of his finger at the outer reach of her fuck hole, and wiggled it inwards. She continued kissing him with her eyes closed and legs spread wide as he sank his middle finger deep into her pussy. Nate started pulsing his finger in and out, and he finger fucked her for a good thirty seconds before Nate pulled it out and break off his kiss.

Martha stood quietly while Nate brought his pussy scented wet finger to her face and touched it to her lips. She obediently parted her lips and took his finger in, and sucked on it while he slid his middle digit and out of her mouth.

"You can get dressed now," Nate allowed as he pulled his finger out of her mouth. Martha put back on her white spandex top and skirt. They cleaned up the dishes from supper, and tidied up the kitchen. Martha asked if she could watch some TV. Nate asked what she liked. She paused in thought, and said she had lost track of The Walking Dead in about season 3. He pulled season 3 up on Netflix on his smartphone, and then beamed it over to his TV. He chose the first episode she said she was pretty sure she had not seen in Season 3. Once the show started, Nate kissed her tenderly on her lips, and she kissed him back properly. "Enjoy the show," he smiled. "I have some work to do." While she watched terrified people fight zombies, Nate went to his office to battle his own form of crazed monsters – work deadlines.

At nearly 11 at night Martha showed up at Nate's office door, but remembering her lesson from that morning, did not enter. "I'm tired," she announced. "I'm going to bed." Nate looked up from his office laptop. He had lost track of time.

"Go ahead and get ready," Nate offered, "and I'll tuck you in in a few minutes." Martha smiled, remembering last night's tuck in, and she turned on her heel and disappeared down the hall. She brushed her teeth, combed and combed her hair. Then in the bedroom she stripped of her clothes and climbed into king sized bed, and pulled the satin duvet cover over her naked body.

Five minutes later Nate appeared – Martha was nearly asleep when he entered the room. He climbed on the bed fully clothed, and sat beside her with his legs folded under him. She lay naked under the covers with her arms over top.

"You must be anxious to see Briana out of that detention center," Nate offered gently and he gently stroked her bare left arm.

"You have no idea," she breathed hoarsely.

"Is there anything I can do to help to take your mind off it tomorrow? Is there anything you like to do?"

"I don't know," Martha answered. "I just want Monday to be here so I can see my girl."

"Well," Nate tried a different tack, "what do you like to do when you visit a new city?"

"I like zoos and parks."

"You're in luck," Nate smiled. "Hamburg has a fantastic zoo, and one of Europe's most beautiful botanical gardens. There is also a nice aquarium at the zoo. I will take you there tomorrow."

"Both?"

"Sure," Nate offered. "The zoo opens at nine. I checked the weather just now – it should be sunny tomorrow, but a bit cooler. We'll be out all day – it will keep your mind off of things. Then" Nate reminded her, "tomorrow night I will take you to a restaurant worthy of your black dress." She smiled. "But for now," Nate sat up on his knees and pulled the covers all the way down, exposing her naked body from head to toe, "I am going to give you a good-night massage. Roll onto your tummy," he ordered, and she did.

Nate started with her shoulders, and immediately Martha felt the tension ease as he deftly wormed his fingers over her tight muscles. "You're very good at this," she said, then realizing he might think she was referring to the happy ending he gave her last night.

"I had a roommate when I was in school," Nate said. "She wanted to become a physiotherapist, and she practiced her massage techniques on me."

"I'll bet she did," Martha smiled into her pillow.

"No," Nate didn't take offence, "it wasn't like that. We were two of four students living in a rented house. We never hit it off. I wasn't her type."

"And what was your type," Martha asked as Nate started working down her shoulder blade muscles.

"I was spoken for," Nate reflected casually.

Martha decided she didn't want to discuss his old girlfriends, so she fell quiet for a while, but his remark about not being her type tugged a string of curiosity. "So what is your type?" Martha asked again, as Nate worked his way to the other shoulder.

"First thing I look at is her eyes," Nate answered honestly. "I need to see some life in there – some kind of spark, or nothing happens." He thought for a moment. "Then probably overall appearance, and then a good sense of humor. Being intelligent is pretty high up there, too," Nate added.

"And here I pegged you for a dumb blonde kind of guy," Martha breathed out harshly as Nate pressed the base of his hand into her spine.

"No," he didn't take offense. "I like to be with my intellectual equal."

Martha paused for a long time. "Tell me if it's none of my business, but what happened between you and your wife. Briana told me you divorced."

"Yeah," Nate said. "It was one of those things – we just drifted apart," he paused, sorting through a rush of memories. "I think we both could have tried harder, but we each had our own issues, our own separate priorities. I was away a lot, that didn't help," Nate added, "and she worked crazy hours, which also didn't help."

"Briana said she cheated on you?"

"I think that's too harsh a way of putting it," Nate said. "The truth is, but the time that happened, we were just going through the motions. There was nothing left in the tank between us, and then she found her soul mate." Nate paused again in thought. "When I found out about it, and confronted her, I was more angry that she hid it from me than the fact that it happened."

"She couldn't have known that about you," Martha defended Nate's ex-wife from afar.

"No, I don't mean it was her fault," Nate qualified as he massaged the back of her neck, and Martha let out an appreciative moan. "I didn't care that she was having an affair, but it bugged me she hid it from me. That's how dead our marriage was."

"So what about your soul mate," Martha asked. "Do you think you will ever find her?"

"No," Nate replied quietly. "She died." A chill rushed up Martha's spine, spoiling all the relaxation Nate had infused into her back.

"What happened?" Martha asked, cringing into the pillow.

"We were next door neighbors. Her family moved in when I was seven." Nate paused. "We played together every day. We were inseparable. We didn't even understand about being a boy and a girl – that didn't matter." Nate paused with the memory as he moved his fingertips to the back of her head, and worked on a knotted muscle. His massage technique was divine. "Anyway, when I turned thirteen, we had our first kiss. She moved away when I was fifteen, but we still saw each other every day. At seventeen, the day I went off to school, I asked her to marry me when I graduated, and she said yes."

Nate stopped his massage, overcome with memories. Martha rolled over onto her back, and looked into his dark eyes. "Nate," she said softly, "tell me what happened."

"I was at school in Toronto," he continued, "she was back in Ottawa. We kept in touch. We saw each other at Thanksgiving and Christmas – every chance we got. Then in February she went to Europe with some friends. I was still in first year. She was killed in Spain in a car bomb set by the Basque separatists.

"Oh my God, Nate!" Martha wanted to touch his face, but she didn't know how to reach out to him in this convoluted arrangement, so she lay still. She lay quiet for a long time. Nate took the opportunity of her facing upward to begin a gentle massage of her temples, and she closed her eyes. "Tell me what happened after that," she said quietly with her eyes closed.

"The day after Steph's funeral I quit school and went to the armed forces to enlist," Nate explained. "We lived in a small town, and the recruiter there knew the story about Stephanie, and when he figured out who I was, and that I had quit school to join, he told me he would not accept me if I quit school. But then he told me I could complete my degree through the forces. So I finished my engineering degree in Kingston, and joined the army." Nate moved to her shoulders. "Every year in service I applied to the special ops, and every year I was denied, until my seventh year."

Martha opened her eyes wide with a sudden realization. "Nate! You're in counterterrorism!"

Nate nodded. "I couldn't bring Steph back, and I knew I couldn't even get to the people who killed her, but if I could put one asshole who pull shit like that in the ground, then I could at least make Stephanie's death count for something."

"And so you did?" Martha asked. "You made Stephanie's death count for something."

"I'm not allowed to talk about missions," Nate replied flatly, "but I said 'This one's for Stephanie' twenty seven times. Twenty seven individual times," he stopped his massage.

They rested in a long silence. "Nate?" Martha asked tentatively.

"Yes."

"Did you say 'This one's for Stephanie' when you killed that Romanian near the restaurant?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Martha asked with eyes swollen with tears.

"Because they were going to rape and kill your daughter," Nate spoke evenly.

"But you told Briana ..."

"I didn't want to upset Briana," Nate interrupted. "They made no attempt to hide their identity. They knew that courtyard had a deep stairwell that gave them perfect cover on a quiet night. They planned the ambush methodically – it was not a random crime of opportunity. The leader incited aggravated fear and panic in Briana using graphic threats of sexual violence, a classic sociopathic tactic used by sexual predators that murder their victims. And maybe Briana didn't tell you, the one who attacked me promised he would make me watch them rape Briana, and then kill us all. But the most damning evidence was the two-foot long dildo. I'm pretty sure they don't walk around with that every day. They showed up with one purpose, and we were not supposed to leave alive."

Martha exploded into a sobbing mess of tears. Nate couldn't tell if she was trying to say something, or just babbling inconsolably. He lay down beside her and put his arm over her waist and rolled her toward him, and hugged her tight. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulled him tight against her naked body, and wept uncontrollably. Nate let it happen – he didn't try to console her or stop it. He just let it all come out. He understood an emotional damn had just burst – this wasn't just about her daughter nearly being raped and killed, but was part of it. It was about everything – about what caused her estranged relationship with Briana, about Briana being locked up in AeB custody, about Briana and Martha selling their bodies to climb out of trouble, about Martha losing her job and not having enough money to rescue Briana, and a thousand other things Nate didn't know about Martha. She had to let it all out. It had been building up like a pressure cooker, and it was consuming her from the inside.

Finally Martha stopped wailing, and pulled away from Nate, sniffling and coughing the odd cry. "I'm glad you killed that motherfucker," she snorted with red puffy eyes and a running nose. "You did right for Stephanie." A lump built up in Nate's throat. He had never told anyone outside the forces about his 'This one's for Stephanie' mantra.

He leaned forward and kissed Martha, and she kissed him back, for the first time with genuine passion. He pulled away. "Thank you," he whispered. Nate reached down and pulled the white duvet back up over Martha's beautiful body. "You go to sleep now," he offered quietly.

"Stay with me a while," she asked.

"Alright," he said quietly. Nate got up off the bed and turned out the lights. He climbed back onto the bed, still fully clothed, leaned over Martha, and kissed her again, this time just a gentle love tap. "Good night," he smiled in the dark.

"Good night," Martha whispered back. She felt safe and peaceful as he lay down on top of the duvet beside her and rested his protective arm over covered body.