A/N: Inspired by the prompt: "Wash has her first real date in over a decade. Real as in dress, dinner and maybe dancing at her house. Her new soon-to-be-boyfriend, ex-military doctor, is the first who has no problems with Wash's job and is proud his girlfriend is a BAMF. She didn't count on Taylor crashing her plans and making one thing clear: If anyone dates her, it's him."

It took five years in Terra Nova for Alicia Washington to figure she'd finally got it right.

A combination of her duties, the type of people (men, she mentally corrected) on the pilgrimages and a continually very distracting - in more ways than one - CO had meant she'd been single since coming through the portal.

(The fact that, at the back of her mind, she'd been waiting for nearly a decade to see if Nathaniel would get his act together was carefully not considered on a regular basis now.)

And then, with the latest - seventh, she couldn't believe they were up to seven already - pilgrimage, had come Peter.

He was, in every way, nothing like Nathaniel. An ex-military doctor there to help with their field medic quota, still dark instead of ageing and deeply sarcastic with his delicious Kiwi accent, she supposed he was more like herself. Which, knowing herself as well as she did, should probably have been enough to set alarm bells ringing the moment she set eyes on him.

But, instead, he had charmed his way into her life without her even realising.

They'd started out small, accidentally meeting in the commissary over dinner most nights, until she realised that she was adjusting her schedule to make sure they were always there at the same time. He later admitting doing the same, which made her laugh loudly enough to catch Mark's attention from across the room. He looked at her then with such a mixture of... disappointment and worry that she assumed something was wrong with him and made a mental note to catch up with him later that night. He was unusually skittish during that conversation, avoiding her gaze and looking like he couldn't wait to get away from her. He'd muttered something about not wanting to interfere before rushing off on the pretence of a night with his buddies at Boylan's.

Which should have been her second alarm bell cue.

(When Peter kissed her for the first time after walking her home that night and she found herself wondering what it would be like if he had a beard, that really should have been her third and final warning.)

But tonight was the big one. She'd offered to cook for him, claiming her skills were getting rusty. He knew it was an excuse - they really needed a little privacy to actually get to know each other since each of their meals was essentially a spectator sport - but didn't say anything other than how much he was looking forward to it.

She'd managed to borrow a dress and shoes from one of the girls in the barracks without too much fanfare, having no use for such items in her wardrobe. It was short, red and made her look like a movie star. And a complete fraud, but that was something she was steadfastly ignoring.

There was a knock at her door as she was contemplating her reflection and she looked for the time. He was about fifteen minutes early, almost to the second, and she smiled. Some things from the military you never could shake.

She walked through her house slowly, giving it a critical once-over; everything seemed to be in the right place. She took a deep breath by the door to calm what she was pretending were butterflies in her stomach but she recognised more accurately to be a twist of dread, and then opened it with a smile.

Which promptly died on her face. "Sir!"

Nathaniel allowed his gaze to drift down her body, but it felt more like a caress than anything unwelcome. "Wash." He responded, eyes back up on hers almost instantly.

It had been a long time since she'd spent even this long alone with him. (Not since before Peter, her mind helpfully supplied.) It was certainly almost their longest solo conversation for a good week. Lately he just assigned her her tasks and was on his way. All of their meetings now had another person in the room and she had to pretend to his face that the loss of their easy camaraderie didn't hurt as much as it did. She wasn't sure she always managed it.

"Can I help you, sir?" She asked when it became apparent he wasn't going to speak.

"Not going to invite me in, Wash?"

Damn him. "Now's not really a good time, can it wait?"

"Not really, no."

Damn him. She sighed. "Okay, sure, come on in."

She turned and walked into her home, allowing him to shut the door behind himself. She stood in the middle of the room, arms coming up to cross under her breasts (a test he passed, eyes never leaving her face) and raising an eyebrow.

"Something smells good." He smiled.

"I'm expecting company sir, so if you could make it quick?"

"Ah yes. Peter." He said it like a curse. "About that."

"Oh no you don't." Wash said, holding up a finger. "Don't you dare ruin this for me."

He actually looked a little surprised at her outburst. "I'm sorry?"

"I know what you're trying to do and dammit Nathaniel, it won't work. It didn't work with Bourne and it sure as hell won't now."

His forehead creased in remembrance of a time long past, the very first and last time he had tried to interfere in her personal life. That time hadn't worked out at all well for her, but she had learnt to respect and trust his opinion as a result of it.

He was in danger of undoing all that now.

"I'm supposed to just stand back and let you make a mistake?" He asked quietly.

"Oh, and how exactly are you so certain that it'll be a mistake?" She cried, voice rising. "You don't have the right to make these choices for me."

"The right?" He responded, voice deep with anger. "I don't have the right to care that you're getting involved with someone who's been boasting about nailing you to the entire barracks for weeks?" He shouted, striding up to her. "Did you know that, Lieutenant?"

"Excuse me?" She asked quietly, bravado gone in an instant.

"I was passing through there earlier when I heard him crowing to the men that since I clearly wasn't going to do it, tonight he was finally going to loosen up my little lapdog."

Alicia could feel the blood leaving her face. The fact that Peter was still in possession of all his limbs was quite something, considering who he'd been foolish enough to be overheard by.

She wanted to not believe him. But what she knew of Nathaniel's honesty, Mark's recent evasiveness and Peter's quick and - she had thought - witty tongue, she knew better.

She managed to not let her disappointment flood out of her. This time was supposed to be different. "You don't have to sound so thrilled about it, sir."

Nathaniel's face fell. "Wash, I…" He shook his head, looking at the ground. "I'm sorry."

"It would be really great if you'd leave now, sir." She said.

Which didn't exactly explain why she now found herself pressed against the wall, Nathaniel's lips on hers as his hand worked its way up her inner thigh. She groaned at the feeling of his skin on hers, one arm coming up to wrap around his neck to hold him tightly against her.

"Why the hell didn't you say something?" She huffed out, struggling for breath as his mouth relocated to her neck.

"It's been a damn long time since I've done this, Wash." He said, between kisses on her overheated skin. "Is it so hard to believe it took the possibility of losing you to knock some sense into an old man?"

Her gaze softened as she moved her hands to his cheeks, pulling his head so she could look directly at him. The heels gave her an extra bit of height, aligning her perfectly with him. "You are such a stubborn fool."

One side of his mouth quirking up, he moved his hand higher - the heels helped here as well, which was an added bonus if ever there was one - and ran two fingers along the material of her underwear. "I prefer 'dedicated'."

Alicia bit her lip, smiling as one finger strayed under elastic and met her skin. "Prove it." She said, inching up her skirt.

"You sure?" He asked, his hand straying forward to pause just before slipping inside her underwear completely.

"I think I can handle it." She went to grin, but it turned into a gasp as his hand slid forward, fingers sliding through her heat. "Sir." She said, the simple word lengthening and vibrating through the pair of them as he sought further reaction with his fingers.

He pushed his weight up against her to hold her more firmly against the wall, free hand running up and down her side as his mouth met hers once more. He slipped first one, then two fingers deep into her and she tore her mouth away from his to pull in much-needed air.

Okay. Maybe she shouldn't have been so cocky.

There was a knock at the door and she felt Nathaniel's mouth curve upwards against her shoulder. He twisted the fingers inside her just so, pressed his thumb down on her clit and bit, hard, on her shoulder.

"Oh god, Nathaniel!" She cried, throwing her head back against the wall with a thud that reverberated around the room in time with her laboured breath.

He continued to stroke and push against her as she came down, gripping at his shoulders as wobbly legs refused to hold her weight.

"That." She said, unable to keep the amusement from her voice. "Was not necessary."

"Fun, though." He said, capturing her lips with a triumphant grin. "Sent the message I wanted."

"That you're a possessive son of a bitch?" She shot back, euphoria loosening her tongue.

"If anyone's dating you, it's gonna be me, Wash."

Alicia felt the pleasant floaty feeling start to fade as he stared at her, sincerity evident. "What about all your rules? Not sure putting your hand up a girl's skirt before you even buy her dinner is particularly the proper way to do things."

He laughed. "Would you like me to buy you dinner?"

"Maybe another time. We've got a perfectly good one here."

He stepped back from her, valiantly ignoring his own reaction to her coming apart at his hands, and extending an arm to her. He grinned as she now kicked off her heels and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. "What was the plan for the rest of the evening?" He asked, leading her into the kitchen.

"Eating, talking. Maybe a little dancing."

"Sounds good."

Alicia laughed. "You don't dance."

"Oh don't I?"

"I've known you twenty years and I have never seen you dance." She said. "You don't dance."

"Bet you 50 terras I can pleasantly exceed your expectations by the end of the night?"

Alicia beamed at the double meaning of his words and stuck out her hand. "I'll take that bet. I have very high standards."

He shook it. "Lucky for you, so do I."