Part One
Winter is too cold, too icy for my interests, but I pulled my long, tan coat tighter around my forest green frock and trekked on through the snow; my simple black, leather boots leaving footprints in the white. It made more sense to do this once the weather warmed up, the hangar had been standing there longer than I'd been alive -- before even my grandparents had been born -- but I was impatient when it came to new discoveries. I left my car back at the old chainlink fence, rusted and decrepit from decades of mistreatment and weather. There had been a very wide gap in the fence where scavengers had likely either cut away the metal when it was still good or had simply cut it away to raid the old airport for whatever they could find. There wasn't much there now, only a badly decaying building that had likely been where crowds of people had gathered to grab an airplane ride to some far destination. Beyond the building, some three or four hundred yards, sat an old hangar that once harbored old steampowered airplanes before they fell to waste in favor of slimmer models that held more occupants and moved speedier through the air thanks to the incorporation of fuel.
Although, that was only a brief time in history because all too soon humanity began toying with technology, quickly abandoning fuel in favor of safer alternates like solar power and eventually, nano technology. Nano technology was suffused to solar power, and computers and chips were quickly adapted to power the large machines until eventually they were able to be compressed down to a much smaller, compact size. No one traveled by airplanes anymore now, haven't since 2060 when the first line of operational solar-powered jet packs were made available to the public. Within a few years they were heavily regulated though, the batteries made able to hold shorter charges to prevent individuals from committing crimes and making grand escapes on their jet packs. Nowadays, the only way to get a jet pack was to rent one for a fairly reasonable price from an approved government sanctioned location. They contained triggers in them that could be set off to explode the pack in case one was used to commit a crime instead using it for traveling. You would fly them to a pre-approved destination where you would check your pack in at another government sanctioned location. Failing to do so either meant immediate jail time of several years or extraordinary prices that easily explained why they were so cheap to rent in the first place.
Without the need for these old structures -- the hangars -- however, many airports around the world either fell to abandonment or were torn down to make room for other more useful structures, such as housing and spaceports. So far, I've only been able to find two other abandoned airports, but they didn't contain much more than the bare bones of the structures that once held life so long ago. This place was different. It was far enough in the north that the cold kept most people away, thus allowing this place to be relatively untouched over the decades. I itched to try and get into the terminal building, but the hangar is what held my real interest. For as long as I could remember, I had been fascinated with olden day airplanes and vehicles, making models of them as a child with my older brothers. By the time I was seventeen, I had built my own actual-size, old model car from scraps found at a junkyard. It ran on solar power and worked perfectly, though I could only drive it during the day. Over the years, I built better old model cars, much to the amusement of my neighbors and friends, all whom drove only new technology vehicles like hovercars and energy bikes. However, my real passion was for old planes, and even early steampowered spacecrafts which were all but extinct now. I had tried unsuccessfully to make my own many times, but to no avail. Without plans of a real one, I was lost as to how they were able to move and function, though I had theories but they all seemed to be missing some important component when I tried to put them into play.
So my hope today was the off-chance that perhaps this long forgotten hangar might have the remnants of an old airplane. I had no realistic hopes of finding one in one piece, not after nearly seventy years since they'd last been used, but I figured I could work with the remnants of one. As I drew closer, the cold numbing my face became forgotten as anticipation and excitement took over. From my viewpoint, the hangar, while clearly falling apart, still had at least two good walls and I quickly deduced that for the hole-riddled roof to still be standing, the third wall had to be in reasonable shape. All good factors when exploring old structures. As I came into view of the large entrance and I ran the last few steps, boots slipping on the snow but my resolve kept me upright as I reached my goal. With a deep breath, I stopped in front of the large entrance and peered inside to find...
Nothing.
Perhaps, not nothing completely, but definitely not what I had been hoping to find. Aside from the bits of the roof that had fallen in, snow making sporadic white marks against the dirty floor, there was an old model car, one of the very last fuel ones from before people had switched over to hovercrafts, parked against the far wall. Crestfallen, even though I had expected to not find an airplane, I stared at the car for a moment before peering about for at least something of interest. In the far righthand corner of the hangar sat a small square that I assumed to perhaps have been once an office or some kind of storage room. As I approached, careful to avoid the roof debris, I noted that there were no windows, only a door that seemed very thick and heavy. Likely it was a storage room, the door meant to keep out scavengers or grabby workers. There was a well rusted padlock on a bolt, no handle, meaning it would take some pushing to get it open.
From the small satchel on my bag, I extracted a hammer and brought it down on the lock. It seemed overkill as the thing practically disintegrated from my presence, let alone the heavy hammerhead slamming down upon it. The bolt was easily ripped out of place with a few well placed whacks of the hammerclaw and then I was shoving against the door with all my might. At first, nothing happened, but after a few knocks near where the bolt had held the door shut, the door groaned as if dying. Standing back, I kicked at the side of the door where I had weaken it until, with a mighty defeated roar, it pushed open enough for me to squeeze my head through to see inside. Pitch blackness and swirlings of dust were my only greetings as I replaced my hammer in my satchel and removed a clean air breather from inside, along with a flashlight. Tools wellworthy of an experienced explorer - something I hoped never to have to jokingly tell a government officer of the law if I were ever caught at one of my explorations spots.
Pushing the door open some more was still a chore, but a much more doable one now that I had won the war with it. Illuminating the space I had opened between door and wall, I was surprised to find that it wasn't a storage room. Peeking my head in and shining the light around some more confirmed that this was actually an office, which was odd. I expected an office to have some kind of telltale sign of an office on the outside - a simple wooden door, one or two glass windows to watch the workers or marvel at the airplanes -- a sign over the door that read 'OFFICE' at the very least -- but this place had none of those features. It seemed almost as though this had been built to fortify against something, but what? There had been no wars or battles in this region for hundreds of years, so with a scowl, I pushed my way in and began exploring.
Apparently, the door had been the perfect seal against the elements all these years as most of the furniture inside was still in one piece, not that it would be ideal to lean on any of them for too long. A deep layer of dust suggested it had been years, if not decades, since anyone had last been in here. The wooden floor beneath my feet sagged and sighed pitifully beneath my feet, making my steps all the more careful and slow as I moved about the room. The room was furnished sparsely with a desk made of fake wood resting against the wall opposite the door. A large, blue chair sat before it, waiting for its occupant as time slowly eroded its' threadings. Beside the door were two simple seats with wooden arms and legs, the cushions once white, now dirty gray and brown with age and dust. There were several file cabinets beside one wall, a coat hanger hook behind the door, and an ugly rug that I think may have been burgundy once, laid across the center of the floor.
It was actually kind of fascinating despite it's simplicity. So few things had survived the test of the time, and while the furniture was clearly in a slow state of decay, what remained gave me an insight to a place time had forgotten, or had tried to. I crossed carefully to the desk, skirting around the edge of the room to keep from the sagging center. A small fan sat to the left of it, pointed up as if just waiting to be switched on. A lamp sat to the far right corner of the desk, it's glass bulbs dirty. Carefully, I brushed aside dust from the desktop and found papers trapped beneath a glass - or possibly plastic - panel. The papers at the very edge were brown and somewhat illegible, but the ones closer to the center were pretty clear for their age, once I had scratched away enough dust to read see them that was. A calendar sat in the center of the display, the year atop claimed it was still October of 2065. Frowning, I tried to remember why that seemed familiar until I remember that was the year the government had begun to regulate the use of jet packs because... Because...
I couldn't remember off the top of my mind why exactly so I brushed aside the thought and reached for a round drawer knob. Unsurprisingly, it broke off as soon as I pulled it. As I reached for something in my satchel to pry it open with, a vibration in my coat's breast pocket caught my attention. Hesitant, I debated whether or not I was more interested in what lied within the drawer or whom was calling me, but the vibration was a nuisance so I dug out my cellphone and glanced at the caller ID. It wasn't a number I saw very often so I flipped open my phone and pressed it to my ear as I reached again for my satchel.
"Hello there. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Azura? Are you wearing your dust mask?"
"Indeed," I smiled, pulling free my crowbar.
"You sound weird like that, just so you know. Did you find another place to trespass at?"
"There were no trespassing signs that I could see." The crowbar slid between desk and drawer and with some force, popped it open. "Damn, nothing," I groaned upon seeing there was nothing but old writing supplies within.
A laugh in my ear made me frown as I set the crowbar in place for the next drawer. "Shut up, Jett. What do you want anyway? You never call me willingly."
"Truthfully? I was just bored. Thought I might invite you over for dinner or something, but I guess you're a bit busy today."
I could hear the genuine disappointment in her voice as I hefted the next drawer open. This time I found two useless notepads and several manuals about aerodynamics and regulations. They were in fair enough condition that I slid them in plastic bags and placed them in my satchel as I continued talking to Jett.
"I am a bit busy right now, but I doubt I'll be here much longer. This office doesn't have much but dust and rot. Maybe the old terminal building will be a bit more interesting. but I doubt it since it's pretty dilapadated. Maybe I can make it to your place for a late dinner instead?"
"Or dessert?" I couldn't see her face, but I knew she was smirking as I flushed a little.
"Maybe."
The next desk drawer yielded nothing of interest except for an untouched bottle of wine, perhaps a farewell gift that was forgotten or never returned for? I inspected it carefully with my flashlight, pleased by it's condition. The seal around the cork was untouched and the liquor looked to be in good condition. Possibly a good thing this region didn't suffered from high temperatures during the summer months.
"2052," I said into the phone with a grin as I finally found the year on it.
"What?"
"Looks like I'll be bringing the liquor tonight," I laughed, gently setting the bottle on the desktop.
The rest of the drawer, and the fourth, and final drawer, yielded little else of interest, until I pushed aside an old nudie magazine, Jett declaring quite loudly that she wanted it, and struck gold. A blue laminated binder beneath the magazine revealed designs for the engine of a steampowered airplane. I won't lie, I came at that moment, moaning my exhilarated joy into the phone.
"Find something good?" Jett asked, her voice both jovial and huskier than normal.
"Only the best thing ever! Blueprints for a steampowered engine! I... I..." I couldn't find the words to describe my joy.
"Take a deep breath, Azura, before you give yourself an aneurysm."
Unable to resist, I danced a little embarrassing jig, my joy overwhelming my commonsense as I stepped too far back. It was the sound of wood that caught my attention as I realized my mistake and with a loud curse, I held the binder tightly to my body as I felt gravity shift violently. The wood gave beneath my stupidity and I was tumbling into darkness, holding onto the binder as if it would somehow cushion my landing. It didn't as I fell heavy on my shoulder, quickly curling up around my treasure to keep it safe instead of trying to save my own ass. Lucky for me, only the wood where I had been standing had given way, the rest kept so the furniture didn't tumble down on me. Also lucky for me, it hadn't been a far drop, possibly fifteen feet at the most. Unfortunately, I had left my flashlight on top of the desk and squinted into the darkness in hopes of being able to see something. It was Jett's frantic shouting that caught my attention, which I followed to find my cellphone laying beneath some bits of wood. Once I reclaimed it, I pressed it to my ear and felt relief in hearing Jett's cursing.
"Are you fucking okay? Dammit, Azura, if you managed to get yourself killed while talking to me on the phone, I'll--"
"I'm alive, calm down," I said, ignoring the throbbing in my shoulder.
"What the fuck happened?"
"I fell through the floor, but I'm okay. Didn't fall far enough to do any serious damage."
"You shouldn't be damaged at all," Jett growled.
I brushed off her concern as I used the light emanating from my cellphone to illuminate some of the darkness around me. I couldn't tell much, but I had a sense that I was standing in a large, spacious area. The floor beneath my feet felt metal, a few test kicks with my heel confirmed this. In my satchel, I managed to find my spare flashlight, which wasn't much of a flashlight to begin with, more like a glow stick that I could turn on and off. It didn't give off a whole lot of light, which is why I kept it in case of emergencies, but it gave enough light for me to explore my new surroundings in a pink glow.
"Jett, can I call you back?" I asked as I began navigating my way through the dark, finding metal steps and following them down to a cement floor.
"No. I'm not going to sit here while you get yourself killed. Better I stay on and keep an ear on you in case you need help."
With a defeated sigh, I told Jett she could stay on the line. There was no way to get her to change her mind once she had decided on something. I walked only a few feet from the stairs before I found a wall in front of me. It seemed pretty ordinary so I followed it in hopes of finding a doorway somewhere. Instead, I found a lightswitch a short distance away. Jett chuckled in my ear when I told her and suggested that I switch it on for the hell of it, so I did. There was a hum somewhere far off in the opposite direction and then, to my surprise, one by one, overhead lights began to flicker on. That was definitely unexpected, but nowhere near as unexpected as what I realized was standing in the room with me.
"Holy shit," I babbled in disbelief.
"What?"
"I think I'm hallucinating."
As if caught in a trance, I stretched out my hand and took several steps forward, unable to believe what I was seeing. There was no way this could be real, and yet as my fingers touched sturdy metal, there was no way to deny it. This was real - holy shit.
"It's real," I whispered.
"What is?" Jett asked, confused. "Your hallucination?"
"Yes." I laid my gloved hand flat against the metal, pushing at it ever so softly, afraid it could fall apart or perhaps be a hallucination after all. It held against my touch, strong as I pushed lightly forward. "Christ, it's real."
"What the hell is it?"
"It's an old spacecraft. Looks like an old steampowered spacecraft!"
"No kidding?" Jett sounded just as shocked as I felt.
"No kidding. Jett, you need to get your ass here and check this out."
"Where are you?"
This question broke me out of my awe as I arched an eyebrow. "Like you don't know?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, no."
"Oh, so you don't know anything about the tracking system you keep tabs on me with? The one stitched into the bottom of my satchel? If I was another person, I may find that kind of stuff creepy for someone who's just my friend."
"First off, we're friends-with-benefits, and secondly, you're too free-spirited and spontaneous for someone not to keep tabs on your whereabouts at all times. What if you fell through a rotten floor and got badly hurt? How would anyone know when you never tell anyone your plans? Also, how did you know about the tracking system?"
"I just fell through a rotten floor, and I am fine. Plus, I have a cellphone. You're just trying to justify your stalker ways," I grinned. "Also, the tracking system? I know you like to do sneaky, hacker stuff like that."
"I am not a stalker! And shut up! I do not!"
"So you're not halfway here already, right?"
Jett didn't sound too happy when she spoke again. "No, but I did hop on my solarcycle as soon as I heard you fall through the floor. How did you know?"
"Because you were freaking out before, and when you freak out, you make rash decisions and rush into things headfirst."
"Well, you could've been dead! Or badly hurt!"
"Stalker! See you soon," I said with a chuckle, snapping my cellphone shut.
I could've spent the time before Jett got here, teasing and arguing with her on the phone, but I had something much more interesting to do right now, and it involved this beautiful discovery before me. Space exploration was a thing of the past, a past where humanity relied on steampower to cross long distances in a short time. Nowadays, we simply hopped a ride on one of the space shuttles at a spaceport and traveled to work on one of the colonies on Mars or the Moon. People with a little extra cash to spare had spacecrafts, which were smaller and generally could hold anywhere from one to four, tightly squeezed, occupants. The modern space shuttles and crafts moved much, much faster than their ancestral counterparts, taking moments to get from here on Earth to the next nearby destination in space. The older ones took hours to do the same thing, which is why they fell out of favor as technology evolved. And if it wasn't clear yet, steampower anything was pretty much an extinct art, sadly. There was something beautiful about intricate levers and pulleys and steam all working together in one place. Trust me when I say I'm probably one of a handful people alive today that thinks this way.
Never had I believed I would come across something like this. This spacecraft could be no less than eighty years old, which I noted was roughly about the same timeframe as the bottle of wine in the office above and the year on the calendar. I was beginning to think that wasn't a coincidence and the fact that the office had been concealed behind such a heavy door made it clear this spacecraft was meant for something special - but what? I paced around the machine, taking my time to study every detail of it with hungry eyes, the information overload a drug to me. I guessed it to be somewhere between twenty to thirty feet in length, fifteen to twenty-five feet in width, and ten to fifteen in height. It had been carefully crafted of a combination of copper and a special treated metal that kept it from disintegrating when it reentered the atmosphere of Earth. Rivets as thick as my thumbnail trailed up and down it's sides, keeping large panels in place. Hefting myself up, I wiped away the thick layer of grime and dust covering glass so I could peer into the cockpit area. I noted two seats lined up, one behind the other, and a large area behind the second seat where a third person could hunker down in or something large could be placed.
Everything looked in perfect order on the craft, though I was certain the years of dust and abandonment had somehow effected parts of the controls and the engine. There were blueprints framed beneath the same type of glass/plastic as the calendar on the desk had been, but because of the framework, the blueprints had survived the years in nearly perfect condition. As I studied one frame of blueprints, I caught this tickle of excitement begin to creep up on me as a crazy idea came to mind. Clearing off a spot on a workbench, I lovingly placed the blue binder still clutched in my hands down and began to examine the blueprints closer, growing more certain of my crazy idea.
I could restore this spacecraft. Even though I had only minor experience working on large machinery like this, I reasoned how different could building a running car from old and spare parts could this be? And here, I literally had everything spread out before me - the plans and tools laid out naked and bare, waiting for someone like me to come along and tend to it. This was fate at work.
Jett found her way to the old hangar two hours later. By then, I had long since figured out that there was a small lift beneath the office. There was a long lever on it that when pulled rose the lift up to the office, where a section of floor in one of the corners of the room sprung -- well, I had to push on it the first time to get it to move -- open and allowed a single rider to come up and down. I found the office's counterpart to the lever was the coat hanger hook, which acted like a lever to summon up the lift. When Jett arrived, I pulled the lever on the lift and let it rise up to the office above while I went back to the arduous task of cleaning off the spacecraft. I had found some old cloth sheets in a bundle beneath one of the several workbenches in the room and had cut up what was still usuable so I could rub away the years of dust and grime that had accumulated over the craft.
"Wow, I really thought you may have been hallucinating," Jett said as the lift whirred loudly down from the office.
"I've never hallucinated on such a grand scale before," I said, shaking the cloth in my black gloved hands before passing it over the back tail of the craft.
Quiet now, I could see Jett move uncertainly toward the spacecraft, her green eyes dark as she took in my supposed hallucination. The dark blue, purposely smeared, tattoo on the left side of her face complimented her tan complexion, the crummy lighting overhead making it pop out more than it usually did somehow. She trailed her bare fingertips over the metal hull in much the same fashion I had done earlier, a small grin tugging at her lips.
"You going to gawk all day at it or are you going to help me figure a way into the cockpit?" I asked, stepping back from the tail and dusting off my gloves.
She looked at me surprised. "You haven't gone in yet?"
"Since I knew you were coming, I thought I would wait."
"You couldn't figure out how to get in, huh?" Jett crossed her arms.
"Old airplanes are more my forte, so no," I sighed.
"Well, come on. If I'm going to have to be teaching you shit, you might as well get your pretty ass up here," Jett snickered as she climbed up onto one of the wings.
Rolling my eyes, I climbed up next to her, pausing long enough to feel so many unspoken words between us. Friends-with-benefits, yeah, it was something like that but definitely not the full story. I perched myself next to her on the wing without a word and watched as her fingers slid against the junction where the cockpit's glass dome and the craft's metal hull met. Jett slid her fingers backward against the seal until she made a click with her tongue and quickly pushed inward, then forward. With a hiss, the glass dome opened up and with a joyous whoop, I grabbed Jett's face in my hands and kissed her hard on the mouth. Maybe the kiss lingered a little longer than necessary, her tongue slipping into my mouth for a moment, but I pushed her away and shook my head.
"We have much more delicious things to attend to," I said, slipping into the driver's seat and groaning in rapture.
"I beg to differ. From where I'm looking, I see the most delicious thing."
"What's that?"
"You sitting in an old steampowered spacecraft. Shit doesn't get much hotter and more delicious than this," Jett growled huskily before sliding into the second seat behind me.
"Do you ever think about anything than sex?" I laughed, running my hands over the control panel before me.
"Sometimes I stop long enough to ruminate about which tea flavor would make the perfect after-sex drink."
Looking over my shoulder, I quirked my eyebrow. "And which one would that be?"
Jett smirked. "Depends on the meal."
We laughed, the laughter of two women tickled pink by the discovery of something so incredible that it shouldn't exist - like an eigthy percent off sale of shoes, or an eighty-year-old extinct spacecraft. As Jett said, the tea depended on the meal.
"What are we going to do with this thing?" Jett asked, studying the controls over my shoulder. Every now and then she would reach over and flick a switch or turn a knob out of curiosity.
"Aside from definitely restoring it? I don't know, to be honest. I still haven't really gotten past the giddy joy of discovery to really think about it," I frowned.
"Hey, check out what I found."
Turning, I got a nice shot of Jett's ass as she leaned over the back of her seat. When she turned around and slid back into place, she was holding an old leather bound book in her hands.
"I think it's a journal," she said, flipping it open without thought. "'I cannot believe I have spent my time believing in a family history that I cannot verify. Yet here I am, another late night in my false office above ground while I crave to get back to work on her in my real office below. It is either madness or the urge to break free of the monotony of my life that drives me forth.'"
"It must've belonged to whoever built this spacecraft," I said excitedly, grabbing for the journal. Jett knew better than to get between me and a new discovery and relinquished her hold on it so that I could flip open to a random earlier page. Yes, we both had similar qualities when it came to stubborness. "'My late uncle's will came with a map, or so they claimed. It was coded, obviously to protect its' secrets. I'm certain, though, that he knew I would be able to decode it with ease. Now I finally understand why he spent so much time giving me those puzzles as a child.'"
"There's a map too?" Jett said, slowly putting things together. "So a coded map and a spacecraft clearly meant for a special kind of voyage. Does this mean what I think it does?"
Silent for a long time, I tried to read the rest of the page but my mind was spinning so fast I felt a headache beginning to form. "Treasure," I finally whispered.
Unable to react fast enough, or perhaps deciding not to, Jett watched me scramble over my seat and plop into her lap. The space was somewhat cramped, but maneuverable enough.
"We found ourselves the jackpot of all jackpots," Jett said, feeding off my high energy.
"No, not yet, but we will," I assured before devouring Jett's mouth with mine.
Okay, I should be ashamed of myself, but I was too overjoyed to resist my actions. All this sudden excess energy was spilling over and what better place to burn some of it? Jett didn't exactly resist me either as her hands fllew to my front, unbuttoning my bodice and burying her face in the curve of my breasts as soon as she revealed it. She pawed the rest of my bodice off my shoulders, hungry to get to my bra clasp, and paused when I yelped as her hands brushed against my earlier injured shoulder. Narrowing her eyes, she moved me just enough so she could get a better look and cursed at whatever she saw.
"Fuck, Az! You said you didn't get hurt when you fell!"
"Oh, it's nothing major..."
"Not nothing...?! You have a bruise the size of a grapefruit on your shoulder!"
Leaning my forehead against Jett's, I sighed. "Do you want to fuck me, or would you rather fret over a superficial injury? I told you it was nothing and it really is. Kind of unavoidable to get hurt when you fall fifteen feet, you know?"
Not pleased, but also seeing the point to my words, Jett moved her hands slower against me, the previous fervor of her movements gone and replaced by the need to heal. Her fingers undid my bra clasp and carefully slid the straps off my shoulders, her lips warm and gentle against my skin. I suspected she didn't believe that was my only injury and decided to touch me as if I would break. I hated it, to be treated so gently, but gentleness wasn't a common trait in Jett, at all, so I enjoyed it. I enjoyed seeing this hidden side of my friend and sometimes lover.
Lips kissed the space between my breasts before latching onto a nipple, moving her tongue around it as her mouth sucked. She buried fingers in my long red hair, purposely getting tangled up and tugging each time I gasped or moaned. I wanted to run my fingers through her dark brown hair, but that provided I would have to remove my gloves, something I hated to do, and almost never did. So I settled for laying my hand against the back of her head and digging my gloved fingers into ther scalp each time she grazed one of my nipples with her teeth or played the tip of her tongue over the sensitive buds.
Leather slid against my bare back, exposed fingertips dragging blunt nails against my skin. The different textures brought a moan from my lips. Unlike me though, Jett couldn't stand too many layers of clothing between her skin and someone else's, and moved her hands away long enough to unstrap and pull off her fingerless gloves. When her skin touched mine, I groaned as her heat made me wetter than I already was. It seemed so illogical to be doing this right now, but Jett's hands moved down the rest of my frock, tugging up my skirt so she could run her bare hands up and down my legs, and it was hard to care over the whole illogical thing. Her tan fingers splayed out against my thighs, hands moving back to cup my ass.
"You're wearing too many clothes," I managed to moan out.
"We're not exactly in an ideal space to get too freaky, you know?"
With a small sigh, Jett reluctantly pulled away and with some help from me, we got off first her brown leather jacket and then her long sleeved pale blue shirt. My hands found her breasts, not bothering to try and remove her bra as I pushed the bra up and rolled brown nipples between my fingers. She cursed at the action, biting her lip as she leaned back, allowing me to have some fun with her breasts. I couldn't exactly bend down to run my tongue where I wanted to, but I could nibble her lips as I twisted one nipple and then the other before sliding a hand down between the tight space between us. The dark blue denim of her jeans scrapped against the side of my forearm as I slipped my hand past them, hand cupping her mound through her panties before moving against her slit, pushing in. Hissing when I found what I was looking for, Jett cursed from the friction of her panties against her clit as my fingers rubbed against it. She pushed herself up slightly, balancing me somehow on her legs despite her shorter frame, and allowing me a better chance to move my hand against her.
"I want you in me," Jett grunted. Upon seeing the look of hesitance on my face, she growled and nipped sharply at one of my nipples causing me to cry out. "Just do it," she said, her green eyes gentle beneath her frown.
Retracting my hand, I pulled off the black glove on my right hand and quickly shoved it back down her pants, slipping beneath her panties this time as she fumbled with her jeans' button and zipper. I caressed her clit, pinching it between my thumb and index finger and squeezing lightly before sliding up and down the small nub. Jett cried out and grabbed my shoulder, the uninjured one, digging her fingers into my flesh in surprise. Chuckling lightly, I slipped my index and middle fingers down, wiggling my way inside her and drawing a sigh of joy from coral colored lips. Thrust once, Jett's breath hitched. Thrust twice, her fingers somehow buried themselves deeper into my flesh without breaking through. Thrust thrice, green eyes fluttered before me, Jett's breath now a steady pant. There it was again, with each new thrust, I could see her lips tremble with words she wanted to say but knew she couldn't. We had a complicated relationship and maybe it was better she didn't say what it was she wanted, but that didn't mean I didn't long to hear what it was.
But things were complicated, as I said.
"Harder," Jett pleaded so softly that I immediately picked up my pace, curling my fingers as I moved them. Her mouth fell open as her eyes squeezed shut, body rocking against my thrusts, pulling me in deeper. With a long, drawn out curse, I felt her clench against around my fingers as her head fell back and I couldn't resist the urge to swoop down and attack her exposed throat with my teeth and lips.
"If you keep this up, we're not going have time to realize something important," Jett said, her tone amused yet mournful.
"What's that?" I asked, looking up.
"Where's the map?"
Where's the map? I repeated the question in my head and slowly my eyes widened at the realization. In our excitement, we completely overlooked the most important part of a good treasure hunt - the map! Groaning loudly, I leaned back and looked around the underground cavern in exasperation. Wiping my hand on my frock's skirt, I pulled my bodice back on, forgetting my bra, and climbed out of the spacecraft, ignoring Jett's disgruntled gripes as she sorted herself out and likely mentally kicked herself for pointing out our error, or more importantly, my error. I tried not to stew over the fact that Jett probably had realized the missing component right away and had simply went along with my excitement just to get a little 'fun' out of it. There would be hell to pay for her doing that, but later, not now -- I had to find that map.
A map that likely decayed years ago. Or was burned. Or went wherever the person that had built the spacecraft had went. In other words, the chances of it being here were slim to none, and yet I began searching every scrap of paper I came across. I pulled the framed blueprints from the wall in hopes of discovering false backs, but the backs were glass, showing nothing of interest. Workbench after workbench, I picked up everything, looked beneath everything, in-between everything. Again and again, I came up empty-handed until I finally leaned against the spacecraft and sighed in defeat. Okay, so I still had a really awesome spacecraft, I reasoned silently, and that was enough for me forty-five minutes ago. Making a fist, I nodded. Yes, that was still enough for me.
"What's this thing?" Jett asked, holding up the blue binder I had found in the office above.
"Um, I found it in the office you came in through. It contains plans and blueprints for the old airplanes."
"How well did you look through it?"
"I glanced at a few of the sheets but it was kind of dark so I didn't see much. Why does any of that matter?"
Flipping open the book, I guess while I had been scurrying about she must've picked it up to check it out, Jett flipped aside a few sheets before looking up at me. Holding the book firmly in two hands, she turned it so I could see, flipping it upside down in the process. At first I thought it was just some circular drawings that someone had dripped ink onto, and then I got a closer look. What I thought was ink drippings turned out to be constellations. The circles were planets with dotted lines revealing paths that lapped over the planets in the solar system. On one, the far side of Mars, was a large black X. My hazel eyes shot up to meet green ones and I exhaled long and slow before speaking.
"Do you think...?"
"Possibly. The binder is incredibly orderly and detailed. Whoever this guy, or gal, was, leaving this like this was not an accident in the least."
My fingers trembled as I reached out to take the binder, feeling so incredibly vindicated in having protected it the way I had when I had fallen earlier. I had to turn it over to see that if someone had been carelessly flipping through, they wouldn't have thought much of this particular section, not until they really looked at it and flipped it upside down. But yes, it was a map. There were no visible notes on the page, just the drawing.
"I bet that journal has the key to the map," Jett said.
"I don't think you could be more incredible than you currently are," I smiled.
"Chill with that or I'll get an ego, then what would you do with me?"
I laughed and kissed her.
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