The Cabin on The Blue

John ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. "You're right. It's just...well, I haven't had anyone to answer to in a long time-"

"That is not what I'm talking about!" Rachel snatched up the first aid kit and bottle of hydrogen peroxide, stalking to the bathroom to put everything away. She pushed the door to and dropped everything onto the counter, gripping the side of the sink tightly as she worked to calm herself. She felt the prick of tears beginning behind her eyelids and she couldn't seem to make it stop. Rachel sniffled, clasping her hand over her mouth to muffle any sounds.

"Rachel?" John pushed the door open the rest of the way, leaning against its frame. She hadn't heard him approaching, and as she looked up, and the first tear spilled.

Great, Rachel thought. Now I'm crying. Fucking perfect. "No, don't," she mumbled as he stepped forward, but he wrapped his arms around her anyway. Rachel stiffened at first, then sagged against his chest. "This is silly-"

"Rachel." John tangled his hand into her hair, gently pulling her head back as he leaned down, firmly pressing his mouth to hers. He ran slow, lazy hands up and down her waist and hips before moving to cup her ass in both hands, giving her a leisurely yet hearty squeeze.

"Dinner," Rachel said, breathless as she pulled away from him. "I've been toiling away since yesterday afternoon and I'm not going to have it messed up." She gave him a quick peck to soften her words, but John still made a few strong noises of complaint as she wriggled out from his grasp and made her way to the kitchen. It was far too easy to get lost in him.

He followed her out. She was already poking about on the stovetop, and John finally took in the array of dishes she was preparing. There was even an arrangement of wildflowers sitting in a jar of water on the table. "What can I do to help?"

Still feeling embarrassed, Rachel motioned at the sack she had carried in from the barn. "That looks like a good haul," she said. "What did you find?" John carefully withdrew the items, separating them into piles: artichokes, cauliflower, apples, sweet potatoes - and one large pumpkin. Rachel nodded, impressed. It was always a wonderful feeling to add to the goods in the pantry and cellar.

"There's a lot of stuff planted around here that grows back every year," John explained with a broad smile. He started dividing up the lot - most would go into the cellar for long term storage, but some would be kept in the produce baskets in the kitchen for quick use.

"But pumpkin? That's not a perennial."

John smiled. "There's a pumpkin patch in between. Was my aunt and uncle's place back in the day, used to be an autumn attraction for local children. It was the only piece of land they didn't sell when they moved away, and they hired on some people to run the business. But then everything happened, and...." His face fell and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I use it as a bonus field now. It's fenced off really well, and there's more than I can eat, so I tend to use them for deer bait. I'm going to run this to the cellar." John paused. "I mean, that's not too taxing, right?"

Rachel exhaled. "I would guess that you can manage it," she replied dryly.

When he returned, Rachel was setting the table. Two steaming pans rested on trivets in the middle, their lids askew for venting. There were also several other bowls of food, and a plate of corn chips. "Brought us a little treat back," John said slyly, pulling out a bottle of vodka from behind his back. He had brought back a few bottles of alcohol, but he planned to spread out their appearances over time. "And I have another surprise for you in the morning."

Her jaw dropped. "Wow. I haven't seen store bought alcohol in ages. It's a real dinner party now," she grinned, serving from the hot pans onto his plate. "Come on and sit."

"One second," he said pulling out a small can of pineapple juice from the pantry. He divided it between two glasses, adding vodka to Rachel's until she said 'when'. He poured himself a more generous serving of the clear liquid, quickly drinking down a third of the glass. Rachel took a few delicate sips. "I have no idea what it is, but I'm pretty eager to eat it anyway," John admitted, sliding into his chair. She had set his place a very large plate, he noticed with pleasure. The food smelled amazing, and he hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he had been presented with a piping hot meal. Rachel was going to spoil him. The main pans were some sort of meat - fish in one, and something else in the other, both in some kind of sauce? - with sides of rice and cooked greens. It was almost overwhelming, in a good way. He had gotten very used to his own one dish meals, and it was a real treat to sit down a spread like this, prepared by someone else.

It was quite appealing, in a cavemanish sort of way. He had returned with a flock of sheep, a sack of food - and a horse! - and his woman had had a sumptuous dinner waiting. John bit back a laugh, and took a mouthful of his strong drink. He didn't want to have to explain what he had found funny.

"You made salsa? And chips?'' John began loading his plate with food, taking a serving of everything.

"Yes, I did," she said, spooning a large heap of it onto his plate. "Put-up tomatoes, of course, but almost everything else was fresh. You did good with the tomatoes anyway - they taste amazing. Which is good, since they are a starring ingredient. And it's been a while since I've done chips, but I think they turned out well." Rachel served herself and then sat down, making thoughtful noises as she worked her way around the plate. The rabbit stifado was certainly nontraditional, but it was still pretty tasty. The changes she had made worked with the dish, and Rachel had very much enjoyed the entire process. Meal planning, she thought with a smirk. It had been a while since she had had access to such a wealth of ingredients as well as the time and resources for such a complicated event.

Stews and soups had made up the bulk of her meals since everything had changed, though the ingredients had changed since they had hit the road. During especially tumultuous periods, it had been foraged foods, sometimes eaten raw and on the run. Here she had been easily able to prepare a veritable feast. John usually cooked more simply than she did, but it was clear that he enjoyed the extra efforts she went to with her cooking. It had been relaxing to work on such a calm, domestic task.

"You made a feast, Rachel. It's really good," John said. The salsa and chips were excellent, he thought, as was the fish... And rabbit?! His brow knitted. That was definitely not chicken.

John stopped eating and Rachel looked up, dismayed. "What's wrong? You don't like the fish... Or - is it the stifado? I had to make some substitutions-"

"I like it a lot," he said, dropping his fork. "It tastes really fresh." John stared at her with narrowed eyes. "Rabbit stifado?" He asked, and she nodded. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think we had fresh rabbit before I left."

"Uh, yeah. I cleared and reset the traps yesterday, just like you told me!" She grinned at him then, forking another chunk of fish into her mouth. "That reminds me, your traps are-"

"You went out to the woods?" His voice had gone low and quiet.

Rachel paused. "Yes," she replied, unsure of why she was suddenly nervous. She licked her lips. John was still giving her that intense, drilling stare of his.

"You went out to the woods, by yourself? When? Yesterday?" John scoffed humorlessly. "And you didn't think that you should mention it?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "The traps are supposed get checked every day. You told me not to leave them- of course I was going to keep checking everything! And you said I should brush up on my riding and get more familiar with-"

"You can't go wandering around out there by yourself," John retorted, his face reddening. His voice had grown louder. "It's bad enough that you went to the river, but the woods? What were you thinking?" He shook his head. "I wouldn't have left you alone if I knew you would do something so asinine as soon as you got the chance."

"You did it," she snapped. "I was only gone for a few hours, and I didn't come back injured!"

John gritted his teeth. "I know the area. I've owned this place for years and I practically grew up here - I know what I'm doing! I knew the risk I was taking when I went after those animals. You're worried about me when you're doing stupid shit like needlessly traipsing around the woods by yourself." John glowered at her.

"Bringing back food is hardly stupid or needless," Rachel shot back at him.

"Yes it was, because there's plenty of food here!" John yelled, slamming his hand down onto the table. He stood up, towering over Rachel even from across the table. "You weren't going to starve before I got home, were you?!" Rachel stared up at him, stunned. Her heart was racing. John braced his hands on the table, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "You shouldn't have left. I don't want to have to kill anyone else over you."

Rachel snapped her jaw shut. "John," she whispered, appalled.

He dropped back into his chair, quickly downing the rest of his drink while Rachel watched with trepidation. "It's not like he was the first," he muttered, "but it's not like I enjoy doing it, either." He drummed his fingers on the table, taking a deep breath. "I have to go out and take care of things from time to time. I can't leave if I don't think you're safe." John stared across the table at her, his face expectant.

She cleared her throat, nodding as she looked down at the table. "Okay," Rachel replied. Her voice was soft. "I won't go out alone." Rachel felt his eyes lingering, as though he was judging the veracity of her words.

"Alright then," John said eventually, and Rachel found herself exhaling in quiet relief as he turned his attention back to his food. Rachel slowly finished her dinner, then sipped on her drink as John helped himself to large seconds of everything. Fortunately, John seemed introspective as well, and they ate in companionable silence. His outburst had been electrifying - in good and bad ways, and she wasn't sure which part she ought to be listening to.

As though everything was so black and white, Rachel mused, deep in thought as she washed the dishes. Making her way through life after the succession of deaths in her family had been....difficult. Rachel had learned to trust her instincts about who people really were, and thus far she had not been disappointed. And that had been Before, when civilization had still been something you could at least pretend existed, on the surface. After all, mail was delivered on a daily basis, grocery stores had plenty of food, both in volume and variety, schools and hospitals performed their functions, and the average person went to work, came home, and paid their taxes. Even with all of the Restrictions, and the new 'Regulations and Taxes Act' that had led to the Uprisings throughout the country, it had been a period of bliss compared to what had come next.

Beth crossed her mind again - she frequently did, when Rachel thought about Before. The two young women had become friends during an elective art class during college. After graduating with their basic university degrees, they stayed in touch. Rachel started culinary school almost right away, balancing that schedule with a job at the flagship location of her family's restaurant; Beth pursued her degree in education while working

at an all-girls boarding school as an aide to complete her clinical hours, moving into a full position once the program was completed.

The last time Rachel had seen her, the gorgeous, svelte Filipina-Japanese woman had taken over a successful brothel and quickly developed a reputation as a cold-blooded killer who took no prisoners when it came to her girls; her natural protective streak had evolved to adapt to the world she was living in.

They had stumbled across the small farming colony and its brothel, or House, during their travels. Beth, ever the pragmatist, had been interested in the work from the start. Rachel was much more wary, and started working in what the girls jokingly referred to as an 'auxiliary position' - non-sexual companionship as well as cooking for the girls and other staff. The customer facing side of her position was generally considered less risky - and Rachel couldn't imagine doing as much as Beth and the other girls did. She talked to clients and listened to their complaints and problems. It could be very heavy, emotionally, but no one had ever tried to beat her. She made enough to provide for herself - and Emma, the young teenaged orphan she had found on the road along the way and taken under her wing. Emma had almost lived at her side, serving a de facto assistant while Rachel had done her work to create tasty, filling and nutritious meals. The girl had even taken over the task of looking after the House's garden. The farming colony had enough food, most seasons, though the main trade was limited primarily to oats, apples, potatoes and beets. Nearly each household group kept garden spaces, using the herbs, greens and other things they grew to barter or enhance their foods, and the House was no different than the others in this regard.

Through a combination of coincidence, politicking, intelligence and natural charisma, Beth worked her way up in status to madam swiftly, taking over the book of clients and money from the woman who was retiring. Rachel, on the other hand, found herself overwhelmed with life in the House, and decided to move on with a group of travelers, mostly women, who had stopped at the colony to trade and restock. Verre had been one of the first she had met.

That was when Emma had proclaimed that she was going to stay at Beth's House as a housekeeper, doing the cooking and cleaning for the other girls, like Rachel had been doing. Eventually, Emma had said excitedly, she thought she might move into a non-sexual companionship role as well. The girl had learned a lot from Rachel, and she had been convinced that it was a better setup than they would find elsewhere. Most of all - she didn't want to take the chance of going on the road again.

Rachel sighed, pushing those thoughts aside to focus on the present. Her intuition told her that John was a decent good hearted person who had experience with a lot of rough shit...and she had a strong feeling that most of it had been Before.

John slid an arm around her waist and Rachel jumped. She shook her head, annoyed at her reaction - she had heard him come back in from feeding the animals, but he had moved almost silently across the cabin's main room.

"What's wrong? Why are you so jumpy?"

"You scared me," Rachel said, watching his reflection in the window as he stood behind her.

"I scared you?" He looked puzzled.

"I didn't hear you come up behind me. I'm a little tipsy." John cocked his head to the side, peering down to assess her expression. She paused. "You were yelling. Earlier."

John grew quiet, then took a dish towel from the drawer. He sighed as he began taking dishes from the rack to dry by hand. "I allowed myself to get overly excited," he said after a long pause. "I have a bit of a temper, but I would never hurt you. I don't hurt women, period. Unless one was trying to stab me or something," he added in a burst of honesty. Rachel, smirked despite herself, setting the pans into the rack. He studied Rachel while he dried the last few pieces, then turned to face her. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry," he said quietly, running his hands through her hair to pull it away from her face. "I'm sorry I upset you, Rachel."

She nodded, her heart racing from his touch. "Me too," she murmured. "I didn't think about-" Rachel paused, her breath shaky. "I have blood on my hands, too," she said, squaring her jaw as she glanced up at him, "maybe more than you do....I wouldn't say I've grown numb, but... Well, I can't remember the last time I felt bad about it."

He looked disturbed, and Rachel was bemused when he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her slender frame. "I don't feel bad about it either. That's what worries me."

Rachel glanced up at him, her breath in her throat. She had never had anyone else admit that to her. Not even Beth or Verre. John gazed down at her, his usually hard face open and vulnerable. It was the moment. And it was the alcohol. The thought dawned as John unexpectedly picked her up and sat her on the countertop, kissing her passionately as his hands roamed her body. Rachel hadn't consumed as much as John, but she could still feel the effects.

It was nice to let go. For once.

She melted into him as John's mouth covered hers possessively, his skillful fingers unbuttoning the top of her dress with smooth, unhurried motions. Beneath the dress, she wore a thin, low cut white tank top but no bra, giving his hungry hands an alluring amount of access while still teasing that there was more. Rachel let her own hands wander, slipping beneath his shirt to knead her fingers into the unbandaged areas of his well-muscled physique. John hooked a finger into the neckline of her shirt, pulling it down to secure it beneath one of her sweet, perky breasts. She moaned softly as he drew her nipple into his mouth, each of her thighs held compellingly in his powerful grip beneath the edge of her dress. His fingers were going to leave marks, Rachel thought, a thrill going through her. John kissed his way back up her chest to her mouth, his hands making their way up to the juncture of her thighs. She whimpered hotly in his mouth as John yanked her panties to the side. His thumbs pressed her smooth, plump lips together, squeezing and massaging her clit through the soft tissue. Rachel squirmed, making soft little noises of pleasure.

"You're flawless," he sighed, and Rachel moaned in response. It felt amazing to be so close to his warm, firm body, her legs wrapped around his hard sides while they kissed. It was heavenly.

She came crashing back to her senses when she felt the slick, eager tip of his cock against her inner thigh.

"John!" Rachel gasped, attempting to wriggle backwards into the wall. He still had a firm hold on the gusset of her panties.

"You promised," John said, kissing along her neck, "and I came back safe."

"That is entirely debatable," Rachel managed to sneer before he captured her mouth again. He pressed his hips forward, and she felt him nudging against her lower lips. A noise escaped her, half longing and half discomfort. She couldn't move any farther back, and he was too big to avoid. "Wait," she said. "Wait, please." He breathed heavily in her ear, groaned in frustration, but forced himself to pause. Trembling with anticipation, she murmured in his ear. "Do you have- Did you find... anything?"

"Please, Rachel," He growled loudly, looking down into her face. Rachel looked anxious, he realized, taking in her face....as though she was afraid that maybe he wasn't going to stop. "FUCK," he said, punching the wall beside her head.

"No, it's okay," she said, dropping to her knees, and carefully palming his cock. "It's alright." Rachel took a deep breath. John's erection was both lovely and intimidating to behold up close. John had the longest, thickest cock that Rachel had ever seen, and a matching pair of full, heavy balls. Beth would have taken John for free just for the challenge and bragging rights, Rachel thought, pushing down the sudden urge to giggle. She was nervous; it had been a long time since Rachel had performed this act from genuine desire... and she found that she was looking forward to it.