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This page last viewed: 2017-09-20 and has been viewed 1002 times
Dates Written: Sometime In 1999 - November 8th, 2001
Warning: Probably some Language But DEFINITELY A LOT Of Extremely Descriptive Male And Female Sex.
Disclaimer: Oh Brother, Absolutely None Of them, but For Sharel Is Mine, But If Hannibal Were . . . This Would be the Result . . . And Hannibal Would Be Very Tired. ;-) Seriously, Thank You, Mr. Cannell For Letting My Mind Run Amok In Your Boy Toybox.
Episode Spoilers: Uh . . . If There Are, I Want To See The Episode! However, There May Be A Slight Spoiler For Either The Premise Of The Show Or The Trial Episodes, Whichever You Prefer . . .;-)
Summary: A Cave-In, Hannibal, And A Scared Female. What's A Colonel To do?
Comments: My Month Has NOT Improved Since October. In Fact, I'm Like The Boston Red Sox <A Cursed Baseball Team For Those Who Don't Know Them>, You Get To The World series, Get To The Last game, Bottom Of The Ninth Inning, You Think You're going To Win, And Then BOOM! You Get Slammed Between The Eyes, And You Go Home A Loser Once Again. So, Anything Short of 'You Suck' Is An Acceptable Comment. Thank You.
Author's Notes: This story Is for Nickie and Lacy, Who encouraged Me <Read: Bugged Me until I Gave In and Wrote> For Hannibal To Get Some Yet Again. <Charon Winks At Nickie And Lacy>
"Hannibal?" Sharel's voice was low and it shook. Even in the pitch black of the tunnel room, he could tell that she was
scared. "Hannibal?" She asked again and he stopped his exploration of the cave as he looked for a way out of the solid rock wall that had been part of the cave's ceiling, but which had collapsed, and separated Sharel and him from the rest of the team.
"What is it, Sharel?" He sighed in frustration, and she choked back a sob. Just after the first cave-in, that had been caused by an unexpected earthquake, via the sophisticated military radios Face had scammed for them, Hannibal had learned that Face and Cat had been buried in another part of the cave, while Murdock and B.A. had actually managed to dig themselves out to the entrance. However, Hannibal had lost the radio when the quake's aftershock had hit, and even as he applied his mind to trying to find some out of the mess he and Sharel were in, he prayed that the others were all right, and that the slimeballs that had forced the team into the cave in the first place, were buried under the rocks where they'd crawled from.
"I . . . I'm sorry, Colonel, but I . . . I can't move."
"What?" He frowned and she whimpered.
"It . . . it's the dark. I'm afraid of the dark."
"It's just dark, Sharel. It's not going to hurt you." He sighed, and she burst into sobs.
"In . . . in the Iraqi prison camp, Colonel, they locked us, naked, into this really dark pit, and they'd put different things in
it and I could never see what they were." She gasped a breath, and fear rolled off her in waves. "Sometimes they were half-rotted corpses. Sometimes they were spiders the size of dinner plates, and other times they were snakes, and other things like that. There was this narrow, sloping ledge that we could stand on, but if we relaxed or anything like that, we'd slide off into the pit." Her teeth chattered, and Hannibal was by her side in a moment, as he realized that she was quickly losing her composure and her mind to the demons that swarmed in her head. "Everywhere I turned there was something waiting for me to step on it, trip over it, or have it crawl on me. I couldn't move. I couldn't sit. I just had to stand still for however long they left us in the pit." She threw her head back, and shuddered violently. "When's it going to start!" She almost screamed. "When are the things going to come after me!?"
"Major Murdock!" He suddenly snapped out in his best military bark, as he knew that was the only thing that would penetrate her hysteria. "Keep calm!" He touched her arm and she shrieked. He felt every muscle as it contracted in her body all at once, and she froze in place. "Sharel." His voice softened and he knew that the only way to keep her reality based was to calm her himself. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her petite frame against him, and he put her ear to his chest. She felt the comfortable rumble of his voice as he spoke, and she sighed as his hands stroked her long, pale brown hair that had come loose from the tight chignon that she'd worn. "Sharel. There's nothing and no one that wasn't here earlier when we were here and had the flashlights." She shivered in his arms and he regretted the loss of the two flashlights they'd carried, but continued on. "There's only you and me in here, Sharel, and I promise, I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He smiled, and though he knew she couldn't se it, he knew she felt it as he chuckled slightly. "Besides, you have to be okay. You don't want Murdock to go all fatherly on me, for not protecting you, do you?" He felt her shiver, and tears wet his shirt, even as she forced a chuckle.
"No." She whispered. "Any more than Face would want you to go all fatherly on him as far as Cat's concerned. But, I'm so scared, and I'm so sorry for being a nutcase."
"You're not a nutcase. We all have our memories, Sharel, and there's nothing to be ashamed of about that." He started to pull away, but she tightened her arms around him convulsively as she panicked. "C'mon Sharel." He soothed. "Let's sit down..." He gently pushed against her and tried to get her to sit, but she immediately went rigid.
"No, Hannibal. Don't make me sit." She begged the older man. "The rocks . . . the things . . ."
"Okay. Okay. Okay. Shhh." He stroked her hair again and gave up any thoughts of continuing to explore the cave. "But how about I lay our jackets on the ground? Would that help? We can't stand until daylight . . ."
"I can." She sobbed. "I can stand that long and beyond, but what if daylight never comes?! We'll never know when daylight is and we'll be trapped here forever in the darkness!"
"Stop that right now, Major." Hannibal's voice sharpened, and again he used her former rank to ground her. "We won't be trapped here forever. B.A. and Murdock were able to get out, and they've more than likely gone for help and/or supplies to dig us out. You know they aren't going to leave us . . . any of us . . . trapped in here." He kicked loose rocks and pebbles as far away from them as he could, until the ground around them was relatively flat and smooth, and she felt the jerks of his body as he shrugged off his jacket and removed hers as well, even she continued to hold onto him. He dropped their coats to the ground, and tried to bend her over to sit down, but she couldn't force her knees to bend, or her feet to move from the cave ground, and she wept furiously and ashamedly as she clung to him.
He finally straddled her and almost literally pushed her to the coats, and once she hit the ground, she curled tightly into a
fetal ball and shuddered uncontrollably. Hannibal sat beside her, and gathered her into his arms and held her against him as he gently rocked her back and forth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his hair that was remarkably soft and she rubbed her cheek over it and inhaled the strong scent of dirt and musky shampoo.
Hannibal's body chose that exact moment to realize that the woman in his arms, whose curves fit so well against him, really WAS a woman, and Not just one of the 'guys'. He swallowed as his fingers continually brushed the sides of her breast through the torn armhole of her once white, and whole, blouse, and the fingers of his other hand came to rest on her thigh, just under the hem of her short, torn, black mini-skirt.
"I'm sorry I'm such a coward, Hannibal." She whispered after a few moments, and he thought of all the things that she had done both with and for the team that would have proven daunting for even a man, and he smiled as he remembered the fight that Sharel had put up against the goons that had captured them.
"You are NOT a coward, any more than you're a nutcase." He told her. "In fact, I truly believe that you are one of the bravest women I know." He leaned forward, and he'd meant to place a gentlemanly, fatherly, chaste kiss on her forehead, but in the dark, he completely misjudged the distance between them, her lack of height, and the placement of her head, and his lips fell squarely over hers.
Her lips were warm, slightly parted, and salty from her tears, and Hannibal's mouth pressed against hers in a kiss that ended in no way that resembled anything of the way he'd intended it to be when he'd first leaned over her. She opened her mouth further under his, and tentatively, her tongue touched the end of his, as she relaxed in his arms. Their lips closed the deep kiss, and she arched in his arms as a low moan left her.
A moment later, Hannibal sat back as if he'd been shot, and tried to force his body back under his tight control, even as he
tried to deny the response he'd had to her lips, her body, and her moan. She was Murdock's daughter, and she was young enough to be his granddaughter. Also, there was no WAY that he was going to get Murdock pissed at him for screwing his daughter, despite the fact that said daughter WAS in her early thirties and old enough to make her own decisions and had actually been doing so for most of her life. However, a truly pissed off Murdock was too scary a thing for even Hannibal to want to face.
"Hannibal?" She asked, breathless, and her hand reached up and stroked his stubbled face, and her fingers trailed over his
lips. He closed his eyes against her touch and swallowed as she shifted in his arms once more and his hand slipped further under the torn armhole and was all but cupped around her breast, as his other hand slipped further up her thigh under the skirt, and he was forced to shift himself as his jeans tightened uncomfortably around him.
"Sharel, don't." He said, though his voice was unnaturally gravelly. He tried to remove his hands from her body, but she
trapped his one hand between her thighs, and the other under his elbow. Unless he wanted to explore more of her than he felt was his right, he was effectively trapped, and she knew it. "Sharel, the timing isn't exactly right here." He tried again, and she sighed, her voice still slightly awed.
"You . . . you made me forget. For . . . for a brief moment, I forgot it . . . all of it. Help me, Hannibal." She whispered. "Please, help me to forget."
"Sharel, we can't . . . I can't. It . . It isn't right . . ."
"Why?" She snorted. "Just 'cause I'm Murdock's daughter? Like that means anything considering what Face and Cat are more than likely doing at this moment."
Hannibal's voice caught in his throat, and he cleared his throat. "We're not talking about my daughter." He finally said. "Besides, she's more his . . . uh . . . age."
Sharel snorted. "Oh yeah, like that's a good defense. No wonder you lost at the trial. I've seen the chicks you've dated,
Hannibal, and FACE dates women older than you do. Give me a break." He could almost feel it as she rolled her eyes, then she pulled herself up and straddled his lap, then took his hands and placed them on her collarbone on either side of her neck, under the remains of her blouse. "I felt the kiss, Hannibal, and I felt your response to me." She slid her skirt further up her thighs to her hips and moved against him. "I know you want me, Hannibal, and I want you, and you can banish the memories for me. I know you can. Please, Hannibal, please help me." She suddenly froze and swallowed, then looked down. "Un . . . unless it's the scars." She bit her lips as tears filled her eyes and her voice, as she thought of the scarred flesh that covered the back of her body from her neck to her bottom and which she'd gained from the same Iraqi prison camp that had scarred her mind. "I . . . I know they're ugly . . ."
"Sharel." Hannibal's voice was gently and he slipped his hands under the ragged hem of her blouse and tenderly traced his fingers over the scarred skin. "No part of you could ever begin to be ugly – not to anyone who knows you, and certainly not to me . . . never to me." He pulled her against him and once more, his mouth took possession of hers. After a few long moments, and several passes of his tongue over her lips, cheeks, and jawline, she relaxed once more in his arms. He rocked her backward until she lay on her back under him, and he traced his mouth down over her neck, and she sighed and arched her neck as she gave him more access to her skin.
She wound her hands in the hem of the black turtleneck he wore, and he inhaled sharply as she pulled it up, then over his
head. She kneaded the flesh of his back in her strong fingers, and then gently raked her nails over his spine. Slowly, one by one, he opened what buttons were left on her blouse and placed light kisses on the space that each button had covered, and she gasped, then impatiently undid the button and stubborn zipper on his jeans. Hannibal was glad that he'd listened to Face, for once, and worn sneakers instead of his boots. Not only because he walked quieter during the break in, but they were certainly easier to remove in moments like the one he experienced with Sharel. A moment later, his jeans were kicked from his legs, and he pulled down the side zipper on what was left of Sharel's skirt, and worked that down her legs, along with the small triangles of cotton and elastic that comprised her underwear.
A feminine cry rent the air as Hannibal dragged his tongue along Sharel's thighs on his way back up her body, and once more, his body pressed her to thin bed provided by their coats. His mouth captured hers again, and his hands slid over her sides, then around, and ran his fingers over the stiffened nipples. She squirmed under him and small whimpering cries of pleasure left her throat as she ran her hands over what skin of his that she could touch. He slowly knelt over her and his mouth traced a warm path over the curved flesh his hands had touched moments before and she gasped audibly, as his tongue wound its way over the full orbs of her breast, and his mouth closed over the end the same moment that a questing hand found its way into the damp curls of her center.
Her whole body arched upward, and she dug her nails into the strength of his shoulders. Gently, she ran her shin over his
hardened member, and at the unexpected, and extremely arousing touch, he trembled, even as she wrapped her other leg behind his thigh, and drew her toe over the curve of his muscled buttocks. She sat up under him, and by silent, mutual assent, he lay onto his back. Slowly and gently, she drew one leg across his body and she lay over him. She trailed her lips and tongue down his face, lips, throat, and his chest, as she introduced him to the curls and beyond that his fingers had explored. She teased his own flesh as he had hers, and he took several deep breaths.
"Sharel, please . . ." He gasped, and she smiled in the darkness at his hoarse tone. Finally she took pity on him and angled herself over him. Slowly, inch by inch, she took him into her own body, and shivered as she felt him as he entered her. When they were almost completely joined, he took her by surprise and suddenly thrust upward. She threw her head back and cried out at the sharp jolt of pleasure and gripped his thighs with her hands as she arched backward and enjoyed the feeling of the handsome, older leader of the A-Team in her.
She breathed outward in a vocal sigh and felt Hannibal's hands on her hips, then they slid over her stomach to her breasts,
and slowly she walked her hands over his chest until her hands were on either side of his head, and she leaned over him, and slowly rolled her hips against his. She was rewarded with a long, drawn out moan from Hannibal, and she whimpered as his hands touched her body and he allowed her to ride him at her own pace. Her hair fell forward and trailed over his face, and their lips and tongues met as the sensuous play between them turned into wanton desire.
He raised his head and wrapped his hands around her thrusting bottom, then teased the nipples of her breasts as they were tantalizingly close to his face, and she shuddered and cried out as Hannibal's mouth, tongue, hands, and body possessed her all at once. Almost of its own accord, the rhythm between their bodies sped up, and Sharel's moans, pants, and gasps steadily increased in volume as Hannibal pushed her closer and closer to the point of no return. Suddenly, he grabbed the back of her head and literally shoved his tongue into her open mouth as she thrust down on him.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, the intoxicating and heady bolt of electric pleasure exploded throughout her body, and she couldn't keep her scream inside her, though it was stolen by Hannibal's mouth. Her hands closed convulsively and both she and Hannibal barely acknowledged the fact that her nails scratched deeply into the skin of his shoulders, even as her body shuddered violently and helplessly over his.
Before she'd even had a chance to begin to recover from the aftermath of her shattering orgasm, Hannibal broke from her, then rolled her onto his back, and once again she cried out as he penetrated into her. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and her arms around his back as he renewed his thrusts into her body. She had no choice but to once again join the rhythm that Hannibal provided, and with what remained of her strength, she threw herself into taking Hannibal exactly where he'd taken her.
Her hips met his thrust for thrust, and took over as his breath panted fast from his open mouth and his rhythm faltered. Deep growls sounded from his throat and she accepted the tongue that demanded entrance to her mouth. His fingers entwined themselves with hers and he pressed her hands into the material of their coats on either side of her head. Suddenly, Hannibal's entire body froze over hers, and she continued to thrust upward as she tightened her stomach and abdomen muscles around him. He clutched at her hands and his nails bit into the backs of her hands as a guttural, almost animalistic howl rent the air and he shuddered over her no less violently than she had him, and she felt his liquid warmth as it was passed into her, and she took every bit from him. After what seemed an eternity to Hannibal, his body went limp all at once, and he literally collapsed on top of Sharel.
Silence was the overriding sound in the cave, and as Hannibal rested his head in the juncture of her neck and shoulder, she languidly ran her hand over his white hair as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Slowly he raised his head and gently kissed her lips as he panted and tried to get his breath and his heart rate back to normal.
"We need to get dressed. It's a little cold in here to be like this for long." He whispered, and other than to move his heavy, satiated body from hers, he made no other move, and she nodded.
"Yup." She agreed as she smiled and sighed in absolute contentment. "Dying of hypothermia would be bad."
"Not to mention a little embarrassing when the team digs us out." He told her, and she nodded again.
"Yup. First person to get to the clothing gets to dress the other person." She inhaled deeply and yawned as Hannibal shifted and reached out for his turtleneck. "Gee, Han'bal. You won. You dress, I sleep."
"Come on, Major." He said and pulled her to a sitting position, and she giggled sleepily.
"Again?" She asked. "I just did, and so did you. We had a major come on." She giggled as Hannibal almost choked as he struggled into his jeans, then picked up Sharel's blouse back around her upper body. "You are a spoilsport." She pouted, and sighed as she wiggled into her underwear and Hannibal slid her skirt back up her legs. "I'm going to a major case of beard burn in the morning. I hope you know this." She snorted, and he grinned as they both lay down and he curled himself around the female.
"It'll go well with the trenches you left in my shoulders." He pillowed her head on his arm, and she snorted as he buried his face in her hair.
"Hmph." She breathed. "Like you didn't leave bruises and nail marks in my hips. I hope you know we won't exactly be able to explain these wounds." She giggled, and Hannibal surprised her with a belly laugh.
"War wounds, Sharel. War wounds."
"Hmm. I see." She pushed back into his body as far as she could and yawned. "Well, at any rate, I'm available for that kind of war again if you are."
"Not tonight." He grinned and she giggled softly.
"Not tonight. Then how about tomorrow morning . . . or the rest of our lives?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, her breathing deepened, then evened out, and Hannibal dropped a light kiss on the woman's forehead.
"Sounds good to me, Sharel." He whispered, and a moment later, joined her in sleep, confident that the rest of the team would come to their rescue, as they always did.
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