Epilogue

Director Cooper had been true to his word. The transfer to the Colonial Marine training planet, New Quantico, had been gone through with the utmost discretion and in only a few hours. As far as everyone else knew, the questionable characters Mahonin had pulled in for investigation regarding the incidents on LV-426 had "tragically" died in a shuttle explosion while making their escape. And while the station security tried to figure that mess of evidence out, Ripley and the others (along with a cat who was less than pleased at being pulled from his comfortable bed) were snuck aboard the Ghost, Cooper's personal transport. It had almost been a relief to be back on a station-to-planet transport ship putting distance between them and Weyland-Yutani's overwhelming control. That they were accompanied by some of their new allies only added to the relief, at least in Ripley's eyes.

Hicks's tension had visibly eased some when Cooper told them Connor and his squad would join them on the training base. It had taken some strings being pulled, but for the project they were planning, it had been decided that trust among the members of the team was every bit as important as drawing in specific skill sets. They'd be training an entire company of Marines to successfully fight off the xenomorph infestation that they all knew Weyland-Yutani was going to bring crashing down.

If they couldn't stop the company from its current path, they'd at least do their damndest to protect the unknowing civilians who'd be the most likely casualties of the company's search for military power.

So far no one from the company knew what the Marine brass was planning, or so Ripley hoped with every fiber of her being. Once again, she surprised herself with gratitude to the asshole of an agent who'd turned out to be the dark horse in their corner. Mahonin was damned good at his job.

Coming out of hypersleep over the surprisingly lovely planet had been as disorienting as the process usually was, but the four survivors managed it without a repeat of the terror that had been their first awakening on the Sulaco. It was a sign they were all healing, one Ripley prayed would hold true in their new home as well.

Chacon's capable flying had them landing on the pad at 0800 planet time, and from there the squad and survivors were taken via 4x4 to the bank of housing they'd been assigned. Judging from Hardison's enthusiastic perusal of the buildings as they approached, it was a step up for the Marines. A step up for Ripley too for that matter, even considering the home she'd once had on Earth nearly 60 years prior.

The squad itself had one massive barracks building, each soldier receiving a private room, something they were all thrilled about. Corporal Washburn had even cracked a smile at that; she might be stuck in with the men per the usual, but at least it was in something like comfort until her husband was transferred in to join her.

Ripley and Hicks were in a family suite with Newt and Jonesy-the-cat on the 2nd floor with Connor taking a second suite farther down the hall. It escaped no one's notice that the survivors' suite only had two bedrooms. For once, the normally mouthy Marines kept their mouths shut about the likely implications of that arrangement. Ripley guessed they'd maybe seen enough of the reports and vids to begin to understand what the survivors had been through. As soldiers, they'd be more likely to understand the bonds that could form in a combat hell like LV-426 had turned into. Ripley didn't want to care what anyone thought about her and Hicks shacking up together, but she couldn't help but admit that it was nice to know that they weren't in for any blatant disapproval from those they'd been working closely with.

Bishop laid claim to the suite immediately next door to that of the other survivors. Some of the soldiers had raised a bit of a stink over the synthetic getting nicer digs than they did, but a sharp word from Hardison of all people had shut the bitching up quickly. He'd been the closest to Bishop during the abduction debacle. Hardison had explained that the fact that the android had been only two doors down while Newt was taken and subsequently harmed had shaken him in a way a synthetic rarely could be. He'd chosen to believe that Gaines, as an upstanding representative of Weyland-Yutani, would refrain from attacking a child no matter what her objective. It was bad enough that his rage had overcome his behavioral modifiers enough to even allow him to attack Gaines, but that was not the greatest guilt the artificial person was struggling with. His decision had allowed her access to Newt, or at least so he saw it. Hicks and Ripley had both tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault, not really, but he wasn't ready to listen yet. Regardless of whether his actions and choices had been appropriate or not, his behavioral inhibitors were giving him fits, and the only time that he seemed to calm those fits was when he was near enough to Newt to be sure she was safe. He had privately, or not so privately considering that now the entire squad knew, sworn that nothing would happen to the little girl again.

The other survivors preferred the last of their number keep close to them, anyway. It worked all around.

Between the drive and unpacking and the scuffle over rooms, the day passed quickly. Ripley and her new family ate with the men and got their marching orders for in the morning. Then they retired, Bishop leaving for his own room only after Newt had gone to bed for the evening. Ripley honestly wasn't sure if he would actually sleep in his room or on a pallet in front of their door. It didn't seem polite to ask, though. For that matter, she wasn't sure if Newt would sleep any time soon, either. They'd left her a light on, though, and Hicks had done a full sweep of the room, under her bed and in the closet and even in under the dresser, before tucking her in with the ragged teddy bear Chacon had unearthed from who knew where. It had been painfully sweet to watch, Ripley thought: the big strong Marine playing daddy to the little girl. They looked like they could actually be father and daughter, all blond hair and light eyes. The sight of them had clutched at her heart.

She gave Newt one last kiss and then followed behind Hicks, leaving the door a few inches ajar without needing to be asked. Hicks paused at the door to their room, letting her proceed ahead of him before leaving the door just cracked so they could hear Newt if she needed them.

Once inside, the pair of them stood staring, suddenly awkward with the silence and the close proximity. Ripley was surprised to realize this was literally the first moment they'd been alone since the med bay back on the Sulaco. The memory of that moment set her trembling, as the desire she'd pushed down surged forward. Hicks, Dwayne, licked his lips and stared at her, his pupils blown as his eyes raked across her figure.

"Ellen," he breathed, and she shivered at the sound of it. He crossed the room in a few long strides, then reached a hand up to the back of her neck and drew her in for a kiss.

The kiss was gentle this time in a stark contrast to the frenzy of their first, so unbearably maddeningly gentle. Ellen let herself sink into it, her eyes drifting closed and her hands resting on his hips as she suddenly lacked the strength to lift them. Dwayne deepened the kiss but kept the same almost lazy pace as their mouths mapped each others softly. He began to back her slowly toward their bed, and Ellen trembled again at the thought of the word "theirs."

She decided Dwayne was wearing too many clothes and her hands slipped upwards pulling his shirt as they went. He pulled back from the kiss just long enough to pull it off over his head and then his mouth was back on hers, hands now lazily stroking down her back and shoulders and around to her ribs and up to cup her breasts. He swallowed her sighs and Ellen almost wondered if she imagined the smirk she caught a glimpse of a brief instant before he deepened the kiss again. She let her own hands wander, skimming across the healing burns and threading through the hair at the back of his neck to pull him even closer.

Her shirt was the next to go, followed swiftly by her bra, and both of them moaned at the feel of skin to skin. He kneaded her breasts gently teasing her nipples until they hardened beneath his touch. He released her mouth and began to kiss and suck his way across her jaw and down her throat. Ellen arched back with a shuddering sigh as he reached her breasts, worshiping them with his tongue and lips.

This was a side Ellen imagined few had ever seen. He was strong and vibrant and so rough around the edges, and any one would expect he'd be hard and fast and dirty in bed, ready to get on, get in, get off, and then out of there type. And later, after they were more sure of each other, he might be on occasion. But here, tonight, for this first time between them, he was showing that softness that had first emerged with Newt, the part of him that wanted to cherish as well as protect. The feel of it all but staggered her.

Her knees went weak, and one of his arms banded around her, holding her steady, while the other slipped down to undo her pants and slide them and her panties off of her. He brought that hand back up to just rest against her center, and Ellen felt herself buck against him.

"Dwayne, please," she begged, unable to help it. This time there was no mistaking the smug smirk across his face, and it should not have been as sexy as it was.

"Shhh, Ellen. We've got to keep this quiet." She had the urge to smack him for that and the smirk, but the sudden thrill of him sweeping her up in his arms and settling her softly on their bed stole her will to strike out of him. Instead she shuddered as he dropped the rest of his clothing haphazardly on the floor and climbed in next to her, that smirk and the focus in his eyes still going strong. He propped himself up on one elbow and then leaned in to kiss her again, his hand resuming its previous position.

Then, God, then he began to move, his callused and skillful fingers stroking and rubbing then dipping down and into her, driving her insane as they pumped in and out. Her hips rocked with his hands and she moaned into his mouth as he pushed her higher and higher, closer to the edge. He moved his mouth down to her breasts again, and she writhed even harder, completely unashamed to be reveling in the sensation of him touching her. Of him choosing to touch her, a woman years older and too tall and hardly curvy, and fuck, he felt so good! His fingers curved and pressed just there, and Ellen fell apart, coming hard and turning her head into the pillow to muffle the keen that her orgasm ripped from her.

Dwayne kept stroking her softly, guiding her through the aftershocks and muttering over and over just how sexy she was when she came, all flushed and flustered like she never was in an emergency.

Ellen finally remembered how to breathe, and reached out to pull her soldier in for another kiss, and then all but manhandled him over her, bringing what she really wanted into reach. Nibbling on his lip, she reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, relishing the way he broke off the kiss to groan, his hips stuttering toward her touch.

"Dwayne, now. I want you in me now, damn it." He grinned, and lifted himself up between her legs, replacing her hand with his own as he positioned himself.

"Yes, ma'am." He slid forward and into her as deep as he could, and this time neither of the pair could muffle the sounds they made at the feel of him filling her to bursting. "Fuck, Ellen. You feel so damn good."

He pulled back and then slid in again and again, finding a long, slow rhythm that she matched stroke for stroke. Time faded from their minds until the only things that existed were her body and his, joining over and over again, the lines between them blurring until they felt more like one body than two. Dwayne lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and went even deeper, the change in angle driving Ellen up again. She tried, fuck how she tried, to keep her eyes open and on the sight of him sliding in and out of her, but then she came and her eyes closed despite herself.

Dwayne let out an inarticulate curse as she clenched around him, and then with only a few more short shudders of his hips against hers, he let himself go, her name all but falling from his lips as he did. He collapsed against her, more gently than Ellen had expected, but still the full weight of him settled on her. She didn't mind it, but apparently he did.

"Fuck, I should move. I'm heavy," he groaned after a moment, trying to push up and off of her. Ellen was having none of it, however, one of her strong legs wrapping up around him and keeping his weight exactly where she wanted it.

"I won't break, Dwayne. I can handle myself remember?" she said softly, a teasing smile on her face. He finally let himself relax back down onto her with a grin, and he nuzzled her neck softly.

"Yeah, I noticed." She felt him smirk against her neck and smiled softly, more that a little smug at the feel of the man wrapped around her.

She knew that in a little while, he'd force himself up and make his way to the bathroom for a rag to clean them both up. They'd each pull on just enough clothing to be decent if they had to check on Newt and if, or when most likely, a nightmare brought her crawling in between them for comfort and safety.

In the morning, there would be the new challenges of work and training and trying to manage life after horror: of acting like a little girl and making new friends for Newt, of re-assimilating into the military for Ellen, and of taking on the new responsibility of his promotion for Dwayne, now Sergeant Hicks instead of mere Corporal. They'd make it one day at a time, as best they could, as long as they could stay together. They'd live.

For now, though, Ellen wrapped her arms around Dwayne and relished in the weight that told her he was really there, alive and well and inexplicably hers. For now, that was more than enough.