This Dark Disposition

Chapter 23 - Manchester

Six Months Later

When Danielle was growing up her family was never wealthy. They didn't live frugal lives, but they weren't beggars either. There was enough food to feed her and her three siblings, but no more. She got a new dress each year and if she was lucky, the one from the previous year would still fit as well. She handed her clothes down to her little sister, and her brother handed his to her little brother - the youngest of the four.

When her father died, and her next oldest sibling was only 14, Danielle knew she had to provide for her family. The war continued for two years after her father's death, and for two years she had wondered how she would provide for her family. Would she continue being a nurse? Would she be as capable as a nurse as she was then without the pressure of war? Did she even want to be a nurse?

The answer of course was no. She didn't want to be a nurse. Not in 1915 and not in 1920 either. But, she loved her father. And when he volunteered to fight she started training as a nurse to feel closer to him. To feel as though she may have some measure of control over what may happen to her father amongst a multi nation conflict. It was silly really, to think that she would be able to influence the outcomes of war by healing people who had already been wounded.

When she volunteered to go to France her mother cried. She remembered her brother begging her not to go. You see, she wasn't conscripted like soldiers were, she didn't volunteer out of fear of cowardice, like so many men her age had. She chose to go. She was an exceptional nurse, and because she crossed the English channel, hundreds of soldier's lives were saved. They don't give medals to nurses. The only recognition they get are more patients. Not that it mattered to her anyway; it's not like her efforts saved the life of her father.

She had spiraled for so long wondering about what she could have done to prevent her father's death. And if she should have just stayed home away from the front lines. She had thought she had put these thoughts behind her, but evidently such, here she was, laying in bed with the man she loves, still thinking about bloody France because of a dream - well, a nightmare, really.

She scoffed at herself, and when she did she disturbed the man laying next to her, "Go back to sleep, Danny. The sun isn't quite up yet"

"I can't," She sighed and rolled onto her stomach to look at him, "I had a dream about my father."

Tommy put his arm around her and she snuggled against his side. This, she thought, made everything feel better.

"He'd be proud of you, you know," Tommy said quietly.

"I wish he was here to meet you," Danielle confessed.

"You carry him with you," Tommy said, stroking her hair, "I love you."

Danielle turned to kiss him, as she did so she felt the smoothness of his freshly shaven face against her soft skin. "I love you, Tommy."

He kissed her back and all of Danielle's unease drifted away, "Good morning, Mr. Shelby," she said, nodding towards where the light was now peaking through the curtains.

"Good morning, Miss Virtue," he said as he crawled on top of her. She spread her legs around his torso and continued to kiss him.

He leaned back so she could lean forward to take off her slip. When she did so he grabbed it and threw it across the bedroom. She laid back down on the bed, and before he started kissing her again she saw Tommy smile as he looked down at her. Damn that smile, she thought. Then he kissed her neck while his hands began to explore her body. Her body was so familiar to him; he knows how to make her feel weak. How to pleasure her. How to make her beg. It was as if her body had become an extension of his own. One that he seemed to thoroughly enjoy exploring.