Ivory Hill had spent the majority of her adult life running. Throughout her twenties and the first part of her thirties it was from bombs and bullets. Now, at thirty six years old Ivory was running from something that she could never truly escape fr...
"Come on Ivy, you'll be hungry later if you don't finish that." Grace pointed her fork in the direction of the woman's plate.
"You're so bossy." Ivory couldn't keep the small smile off of her face as she pulled her meal back towards her and finished the half that she had left.
Across the hall Jake crammed the last of his chicken into his mouth and pushed his plate away, wheeling himself over to the bench where Ivory was sat.
Jake reached out and tapped Ivory on the shoulder. "Me and a few of the guys are going to play some poker, do you want to join?"
Ivory turned around and hesitated.
"Winner gets a bottle of whiskey and six cartons of cigarettes plus whatever else we put into the pot."
"I'm in." The dark haired woman said, getting up.
Grace rolled her eyes. "Don't come crying to me when you end up with a hangover."
"I won't say a word." Ivory promised then grabbed her plate and cup, adding them to the stack at the front of the mess hall before following Jake out.
"The game is in the lab." The man said, wheeling himself down the hall in front of Ivory.
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Ivory was now three hours deep into the whiskey scented card game with Jake, Trudy and some of the grunts. Grace was sat in the corner of the lab doing work, rolling her eyes at the group every so often.
"Come on Hill, raise the stakes. Or are you too chicken?" Sanderson taunted.
At this Grace groaned aloud and left the room, muttering something about it being like she was back in kindergarten and going to get herself on the flight rota for the next morning.
"Sure, I'll raise them." Ivory said easily, pulling her wallet out of the pocket of her combat trousers and peeling a few notes out, chucking them onto the large pile of money, cigarettes and luxury ration chips that had gathered in the middle of the table.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Max piped up, stepping into the lab with a data pad in his hands.
"I played poker on the army base all the time it'll be fine." Ivory bluffed. "Max do you want to join in?" She asked, scanning her cards.
Max shook his head. "No thank you. Have you seen Grace? I need to speak to her about something, it's urgent." His dark brown eyes were full of anxiety.
"I think she's in the Armor Bay organising a flight out for tomorrow. Why, is something wrong?"
Max pulled his glasses off and gave Jake a sideways look. "No," he shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. See you later." Max turned and left.
Ivory frowned. She'd never seen that look on Max's face before. The man usually had an enormous smile on his face even under the most stressful of circumstances. Max was fiercely loyal to his friends, especially Grace whom he idolised and his fearful expression told Ivory that there was something seriously wrong.
"Royal flush." Jake said smugly, flipping his cards over so that everyone else could see them.
"Bastard." Ivory muttered.
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Ivory was clearing up the mess that the grunts had left in the lab when Jake approached her, a rucksack swinging from the handles of his wheelchair.
"I've got you somethin'." Jake said smugly, positioning his chair so that he was sat at the edge of the table that Ivory was wiping.
"What?"
Jake opened his bag and shook out a small mound of cigarette packets and several loose ones. "I won these earlier but I don't smoke so I thought you and Grace could share them."
"Thanks Jake."
At the mention of her name Grace looked up.
"Want one?" Ivory asked, picking up a cigarette carton.
Grace nodded.
Ivory crossed the lab and sat down beside the redhead, opening the packet of cigarettes and taking one before she set it down on the table between them.
"Here." Grace dug her usual blue lighter from the pocket of her lab coat and fumbled, dropping it into Ivory's lap. "Ah shit." She reached down and picked it up.
Grace's hand lingered a second too long on Ivory's thigh. The woman held no illusions about Grace possibly wanting her- Grace didn't give a shit about anything except her work. But hell, if her mind didn't whisper suggestions about the possibility of a satisfying fuck with a woman that she thought was desirable. The dark haired woman's face reddened and she shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thought of Grace pinning her up against the wall, the thought of herself standing with a fistful of the Grace's shirt in her hand, pulling her so close that their bodies were pressed against each other, the thought of-
"Ivy?" Grace asked, a bemused expression on her face.
"What?"
"The lighter?" The older woman held it out.
"Oh, sorry." Ivory took it and lit her cigarette, diligently avoiding looking into Grace's brown eyes lest she realised what she was thinking about.
