Sarah heaved a deep, annoyed sigh. She couldn’t understand that Tyler had insisted on taking that arrogant jerk McNab with them when John had asked them to leave CD Base, but undoubtedly he had his reasons. Tyler never did anything without a good reason. But Tyler wasn’t here, was he? He had gone missing in action 45 days ago, just like her son had gone missing in action 116 days ago.
She had lived most of her life from day to day and it made perfect sense to her that she counted in days and not in weeks, months or even years. You could be alive today and dead tomorrow.
Private McNab had stalked her and had become rather intrusive three days ago. She had dealt with it but the whole incident had made it all too apparent that not all survivors of Judgment Day were good. That the scum of the earth had also found a way to survive. And Private McNab was exactly that.
She knew that it had to do with the absence of Tyler. That McNab would never have tried to get frisky with her if Tyler had been around. Where some humans had turned into nothing short of animals, Tyler had kept some of his gentlemanlike qualities. He was a loudmouth with a lot of bad manners but there were still some good manners in him left. As leader of this unit, he demanded respect for the female fighters, who were no lesser beings than the male fighters.

Sarah leaned back against the blind wall, her head banging softly against it, her arms folded across her chest. Catherine smiled in a comforting manner, but Sarah paid no attention to it.
“Whispers in the tunnel say that he was laughing his goddamn ass off when they found him,” Catherine said softly.
Sarah remained quiet and continued to bang her head against the wall. She hated this waiting, just as much as she hated surprises.
“They say that he’s pretty banged up,” Catherine added.
“He’ll live,” Sarah said after a moment of silence.
Catherine nodded: “He’s one crazy son of a bitch if you ask me. No one in their right mind attacks a machine barehanded or escapes from Century without assistance.”
“I didn’t ask you,” Sarah snapped at her.
Catherine kept quiet for the remainder of the time they would wait for E.T.[1] 12 to return to their new base. Whispers in the tunnels had told them that there had been a break out at Century, and Sarah had been convinced that it was Tyler. So she had dispatched the two E.T.’s of this base to find him. Tin cans never played fair and the longer he was out there, the bigger the chance became that they would find him and he would be brought back to Century or worse.
An hour ago, the team leader of E.T. 12 had reported back and confirmed that it was indeed First Sergeant Devlin. And that the First Sergeant must have heard one hell of a joke since he could not stop laughing.

Tyler sat down on his bed, bent over forwards with his elbows on his thighs, his head buried in his hands. It had been three days since his escape from Century. Now he was really home, and yet he had never felt out of place as much as he felt now. Century, U-section had changed him. The horrors had numbed him and it was if he was starting to become detached from the real world and from his emotions.
He glanced up when the door to his room opened and closed again. She was the only one who would enter without knocking first. Before, he would have smiled and asked her what the honor of her visit was but now he kept quiet.
“Ty,” she said in a gentle whisper.
“Go away, Connor,” he growled, sounding gruffer than he had intended.
She remained silent but didn’t leave. Instead he felt her sit down on next to him by the pressure shift. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his thoughts together. He flinched when he felt her hand on his bare back and shoulders. She was tracing his scars with her fingertips. Four years into the war and he was sporting quite the collection.
“That must’ve hurt,” she whispered tearfully while her hand slid past the bandage on his lower back.
“Not as much as I would have liked,” he remarked sadly.
“What do you mean?” She asked confused, pulling back her hand.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he contemplated his answer: “I’ve become an Undertaker, Connor, the devil incarnate. I’m less than bastards like McNab.”
“McNab?” He could hear the confusion in her voice.
“He burns in hell,” he answered slowly. “He told me… About what happened. And I killed him. I felt no remorse, no pity. Only the satisfaction of ridding the world of a bastard.”

She gently touched him on the shoulder and he turned to look at her: “You taught me that every human life is valuable, and I took a human life without guilt. He was a rat, but he was another human.”
She looked at him and felt her heart break, knowing that he wasn’t struggling with the fact that he had killed a man without feeling bad about it. The fact that he had acted like one of them was what was really gnawing at his soul.
He was a good man with his heart in the right place. She leaned forward a little and sent him a warm smile in the hopes that it would cheer him up a little. It had worked with him when he had just been TJ and he had just come to live with them.
Their eyes met and held each other captive. Before she realized she was doing it, she leaned in to him, never breaking eye contact. Their breaths blended together as she closed the distance between them. He froze and seemed to withdraw into himself. Tentatively she pressed her lips against his. At first he remained frozen but then he started to respond, turning their first real kiss into something sweet and tender.
She backed away a little to catch a full breath and looked at his face. Tears meandered down his cheeks and for a second time that night she felt her heart break. He reached for her and pulled her into tight, trembling embrace as if he was clinging on to life itself. And maybe he is, she thought sadly.
His mouth claimed hers in another wonderful kiss. She managed to wrestle one arm free from his tight embrace and placed her hand on his chest. His heart was hammering underneath her touch.
“Ty?” she breathed after ending the kiss.
“Yes?” he whispered while he looked her straight in the eye.
She gulped, then smiled crookedly before shaking her head: “Nothing.”
“It’s never nothing,” he said softly, gently reaching out to her to stroke her hair behind her ear.
A nervous giggle rose up from her chest and he looked at her curiously, with a frown on his face. Did he think she had lost it? He was eighteen years younger than her but in the way he carried himself it was something that was easily forgotten. Despite their difference in age, she had never felt it as an obstacle to befriend him.

He sent her a loving smile when she took his hands and guided them over her. A sigh of longing escaped her slightly parted lips when he helped her lie back on the bed, smiling when he leaned over her to stroke her hair from her face.
“Hey,” he muttered as she pulled him down towards her so she could kiss him.
“Don’t be such a baby,” she giggled.
“I just don’t want to crush you, that’s all,” he defended himself.
Her eyes widened in unexpected pleasure when she felt his warm hand slide between her legs to nudge them apart so he could carefully settle between them. His mouth caught her little moan of pleasure when it covered hers in a searching kiss.
“How considerate,” she said breathlessly.
He backed away a little and smiled at her flushed face, the look in her eyes glazed. She reached for his face with one hand, touching the scar over his eyebrow and cheek. The shiver that went through his entire body was enough to have her moan in pleasure when his hips pushed hers deeper into the mattress.
He gulped when he felt her hands slide over his back again. Her nails made slow circles over his skin where his hips met his back and he thought he was going crazy. Somehow he felt relieved when her hands left the spot where they had played havoc with his senses.
“I love you, Tyler,” she mumbled, unable to formulate one coherent sentence other than that.
“I love you too,” he growled sensually, closing his eyes as she set him ablaze when her hands wandered over his bare back and shoulders.

She sighed sadly when he backed away a little and then cried excitedly when she felt his hot mouth place a series of kisses down her neck and chest. His two-day old stubble beard prickled her skin where his lips had been only seconds before.
She arched her back and closed her eyes while he swiftly helped her out of her old sweater and T-shirt. His touch was light as a feather. It was like each caress, each kiss, each touch had been designed to carry her further into the world of lovers’ play. His hand slid from her bare stomach to her back, pulling her firmly against him so he could unhook her bra with a simple movement of his hand.
After he had gently peeled down the straps of her bra, he began his sensual onslaught on her breasts. Her hands buried themselves in his thick wavy hair. She loved the way it felt as it slipped through her fingers. The soft feel of his hair was quite the opposite of the pleasant burning sensation as his beginning beard grazed the soft, sensitive skin of her breasts.
“Ty, please,” she whimpered, pushing her hips up to meet his.
“Patience, babe,” he mumbled mere seconds before his mouth returned to hers.
“You’re killing me,” she sighed disappointed when the warmth of his body as he had covered hers with disappeared.
“Don’t be such a baby,” he quipped.
She opened her eyes slowly: surely he wasn’t that cruel to set her ablaze and then leave her. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth when she saw him on his knees between her legs, his nimble fingers ridding her of her combat boots and socks. She gulped nervously when he reached for the buttons of her pants and she lifted her hips obediently so he could remove the piece of clothing. He grinned mischievously when he dumped it on the floor next to the bed while he turned his gaze at her panties.
She sat up, pushing him gently on the shoulders as a gesture he should sit back with which he happily complied. A wicked smile graced her kiss-swollen lips when she straddled on his lap and deep growl of lust rumbled in his chest when she covered his shoulders and chest with heated kisses, licking his nipples before softly nipping at them. He had driven her insane with desire with it. The least she could do was return the favour.

“Trying to kill me?” He managed to bring out, almost squeaking when she put one hand down the front of his pants.
“No more than you are,” she breathed, clearly enjoying the immense power she held over him this very moment.
He squirmed underneath her teasing touch, his breath hitching in his chest as she continued the torture of his body. A deep sensual growl rose from deep within his chest when she gently nipped the skin of his throat, her hands driving him to the edge. She looked him in the eye, the smoldering fire had turned into a blazing inferno of lust and love. Her mouth curved into a loving smile.
“You sure?” His voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
She began to laugh and he raised one eyebrow in interest. He opened his mouth to say something, although he even didn’t know what he wanted to say but she placed her index finger on his lips, and then replaced her finger with her mouth.
“Sarah?” He groaned while he closed his eyes when she kissed his chin, his throat before showering his chest and stomach with kisses.
Her tongue circled the sensitive area around his navel and there wasn’t one coherent thought left in his mind. He felt her tug gently but impatiently at the waistband of his pants and he rose a little so she could pull it down. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw her knelt between his legs, helping him out of his remaining clothes. He gestured she should stay where she was and moved over to her.
“Sarah,” he grumbled when he came up behind her and she wiggled her shapely behind into his lap. “Don’t do that,” he growled in frustration and leaned back a little to leave some room between them. “At least not if you want this to last a little while longer.”
Gently his thumbs slid under the elastic band of her panties and pulled them down tormentingly slow. He helped her out of them and then pulled her back against his chest, one arm holding her firmly around the waist, using his other hand to tenderly caress her body.

“Ty,” she murmured when he kissed her where her neck and shoulders met.
She was growing tired of this game of torment and tease. If he wasn’t going to speed things up, she most certainly was. Without giving him a chance to stop her, she turned around quickly and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Slowly she pulled him down with her, hoping that he would take the hint.
However he wasn’t done yet because, despite that he had followed her into the softness of the bed, he brought his face close to hers and gently kissed her on the corner of her mouth. She finally caught his gaze and held it captive. A wave of heat shot through her when she felt his hand slide between her thighs again. Obediently she spread her legs, her breath hitching in her chest when he carefully settled between her thighs.
“I hate you,” she breathed when he still didn’t put an end to it all.
He frowned and then smirked: “No, you don’t.”
“I will,” her voice was no more than a wistful whisper.
“You won’t,” he grinned mischievously.

She studied his face closely while his eyes closed drowsily. He had been right: how could she ever hate him? Her eyes trailed down to his neck, then to his chest, to his dog tag. She picked up the little metal plate and looked at it. First Sergeant Tyler Jess Devlin, JS49728, it read. She smiled faintly. She had one just like him but she never wore it.
Slowly she ran her fingertips along the sides of his chest and under his arms. His eyes snapped open and he turned to look at her before he looked down with a puzzled expression on his face.
“What are you doing?” He asked in a whisper.
“Tickling you. In a second, you will be begging for mercy,” she laughed.
“I’m not ticklish,” he stated matter-of-factly.
She continued to study his face while she tickled him at his sides. He looked like it was sorting no effect on him at first but soon she saw his lips curve upwards.
“Don’t fight it,” she giggled happily.
A grimace spread across his face as he continued to resist. The grimace turned into a grin. She had always like his grin. It was a little mysterious and mischievous, like he was having fun with an inside joke at your expense.
Unable to fight it off, he burst into laughter, squirming and wiggling in an attempt to escape: “Have mercy,” he panted when she wouldn’t let him escape.