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You thought he was dead. They said he died in the field. Jake’s wife, girlfriend, or whatever, killed Miles. The reports said she attacked him unprovoked. You didn’t fully believe that, you had heard whispers of the side he never dared to show you.
He was a complicated man, to say the least, but you mourned him. It felt like you had half your arm cut off. He was no longer there in the morning in the mess, freshly showered, drinking a mug of too hot black coffee, teasing you for your penchant for sweet breakfast food. He was no longer there after a hard day in the lab, ready to smooth your hair back and envelop you in his muscled arms and warmth…
… but he killed Grace. How could he do that? You were devastated. About Miles. About Grace. About Trudy. About Jake. About everything. Even Lyle.
How had everything gone so wrong?
Oh, right. Corporate greed. Profits over everything. Parker sacrificed his soul to the only God he knew: money.
In the months following the Na’vi uprising, you had become a shell of your former self. Most of your friends had died.
The others noticed. Norm especially. You felt like everyone was treating you with kid gloves, never wanting to speak ill of your… boyfriend? Significant other? You two had never spoken about it. It just clicked into place after the syekalin incident. It enabled you to skip past the awkward stage of getting to know each other, and Eywa knows neither of you would’ve ever pushed past that.
Before you knew it, your contract with the RDA was coming to an end. While you were content, you didn’t really know what else you would do, but you had six years of cryo to figure it out.
…
Once you had gotten back to Earth, you spent a few months enjoying your hard earned money, but eventually you knew you needed to get back to work. You spent the next two years working as a lab assistant at various science research facilities. It wasn’t very fulfilling, but it was something.
…
Bzzt…
Bzzt…
You picked up your data pad. Parker?
Ew. Hard pass on whatever he had to say.
You put the data pad down and went back to heating your breakfast.
Bzzt…
Bzzt…
With a sigh, you picked the data pad back up. Norm? Why would Norm be emailing me?
You opened the email…
Y/n,
It's Norm. Parker wanted me to email you too in case you didn’t open his. We need you to come back to Pandora. It’s important. I know you’d want to be here for this. Parker’s email has all of your tickets and travel arrangements.
Please come. We need you.
Best,
Dr. Norman Spellman, chair of RDA Avatar Program
Weird. Not a peep for eight years, to be fair you were asleep for six of those, and now all the sudden they’re blowing up your phone. What’s the big deal? They probably had hundreds of xenobotanists itching to get on Pandora. Why did they need you back?
…
Two days later, you were on a shuttle heading into low Earth orbit to transfer to a ship that would take you all the way to Pandora. You never thought you’d go back.
Slipping into cryo, your thoughts slipped to Miles.
…
You arrived on Pandora the same way you left Earth: in a rush.
You speed-walked out of the ship determined to make your way to the main building as fast as possible. You didn’t need to see all the marine uniforms that surrounded you just to remind you of Miles.
Unfortunately, it has been eight years, so the main building wasn’t where you remembered. Come to think of it, nothing was.
Great. Maybe I could call Norm…
Taking out your portable data pad out of your bag, you searched for Norm’s name-
Oomf-
A sense of deja-vu washed over you as you heard a distinctly familiar voice, “sweetheart, we have to stop meeting like this.”
You froze. No. It couldn’t be him. You died.
You look up. Way up. You felt a shiver run through you as you saw his tongue run over his lethal canines. His blue skin and freckles almost glowed in the sunlight. Even though you knew it couldn’t possibly be your Miles, you felt the familiar yearning in your chest.
Your mouth fell open as you gaped at him, “but you- you can’t- how?”
“Well, sugar, I was just too valuable to lose.” His signature smirk made its way onto his face at your clear bewilderment.
You reached out your hand to poke his torso. “Miles, I went to your funeral!”
You were mad now. Its been years and no one told you anything. You needed to find Norm, he was the head of the Avatar program and would give you the gist of what happened.
“Where’s Norm?”
“I’ll take you to him.” His expression softened as he took in your expression, betrayal and bewilderment clouding your features.
…
You burst into the lab as soon as you and Miles had rounded the corner. A rush of nostalgia hit you as you entered. Microscopes, amino tanks, test tubes, a centrifuge and computers all arranged around the lab. “Norm! What the hell happened?”
Norm, who was looking at one of the many screens in the lab, whirled around to face you. “Oh you’re back! I’m so glad you came.”
“Norm, what the hell is with Colonel Frankenstein out there?”
He held out his hands in front of him in an attempt to placate you. “That IS the Colonel. I know they told you he died, and he did. But, his conscience was uploaded two hours before he destroyed the Tree of Souls. It’s him in there, essentially. I know you both had a relationship. For the record, I was against this from the beginning. I told Parker it wasn’t a good idea, but he green lit the project anyway.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?!”
“I’m sorry, I wanted to, but it was top secret. I convinced Parker to get you back when we begun to noticed something.”
“No, Norm. I don’t want any part of this thing. This is so fucked!”
“Hear me out first, okay?”
Nodding your head, “fine.”
“We encountered an issue when transferring his conscience. His memories, any of them that your were in, became stuck in the soul drive. Except one. The one where you met.”
You crossed your arms and scrunched your face in confusion, “why would that happen?” You could feel your brain shifting to science mode (TM).
Norm’s posture finally relaxed as he realized your weren’t in a heightened state of anxiety anymore. “We don’t know. We don’t even really know how this technology works. My personal theory, is that certain significant memories are tied to the soul. They can’t be replicated or copied.”
Taking a deep breath and nodding your head, you shifted on your feet. “So, why do you need me? Why am I here?”
“Well... Parker wants you to get him to fall in love with you again.” He rubbed the back of his neck. It was a nervous tick he always had.
Your eyes went wide. “You have to be joking?!”
“Unfortunately, I’m not. Parker wants to be able to control him easier.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you mulled this new information over. Really, Parker brought you back for this?! You were going to give him a piece of your mind the next time you saw him. On the bright side, you would be able to spend more time with Miles. You’d missed him terribly over the years. You missed Pandora too.
“Fine. I’ll do it. One condition: Parker doesn’t stick his nose in my business.”
“He won’t be happy about that, but I’ll let him know. It’s good to see you again.”
You gave him a half smile, relaxing into that familiar feeling of friendship with Norm. “I wish it was under less bizarre circumstances.”
…
Over the next few weeks, you and Franken-Quaritch got to know each other better.
You thought it was going to be weird, relearning someone after their death, especially when they had a different body. Miles was, in many ways, the same man. Still witty. Still petty. Still had that commanding presence. And still loved to call you anything but your own name.
There were the obvious ways in which he was different too. Before he was all powerful corded muscle, now he was tall and sinewy. He was missing his signature trio of scars on the side of his head. He was also blue. And had fangs. You wanted him to run them down the curve of your neck.
He was a work of art. But instead of being sculpted from marble by Michelangelo, he was flesh molded by DNA synthesized to be the perfect weapon by dozens of scientists.
Even though he couldn’t remember specific memories regarding you. He seemed to remember something. You saw it in the way he reacted instinctually to your presence. A few times, you’d gone against Parker in a screaming match about his lack of morals and Miles was always right at your back ready to step in if needed.
Despite your weariness of him being your artificially reincarnated and species swapped lover, you still felt a pull towards him. As if your destinies were forever entangled. Your eyes were inevitably drawn to his cerulean form. The Colonel commanded your attention as if you were a briefing room.
And you loved it. You finally got the other half of your arm back. You’d see him in the mornings, smelling like his soap and sipping way too hot coffee. You both fell into a rhythm. You were curious how much of Miles was still in there. He was curious about why his palms got sweaty when you were near and why his tail started flicking back and forth.
You had plans together tonight. He kept saying that he wanted to show you something and you finally relented. Walking into the Colonel’s office, you greeted him with a smile, “You about ready to go?”
Miles ran his hands down his face as he leaned back in his chair. He was clearly exhausted. “Yeah, sunshine.”
He looked at you, his eyes scanning your figure. You shifted and walked further towards his desk. Crossing your arms and leaning your hip against it, “What? Am I growing a kuru or something?”
He pulled his lips into a smirk exposing his canines, “you need better clothes, Peach.”
“Oh wow, no “you look nice today” or anything?” You smiled slipping into easy banter with him.
He adjusted, crossed his arms making his biceps more pronounced and bounced his leg. Shaking his head at your sarcasm, “you know that’s not what I meant. I meant, you need more appropriate clothing for where we’re going, sugar.”
“Well, what should I wear? You haven’t told me where it is we’re going. And, “Peach” is your new one? Do you even know what a peach is?”
He pointed an index finger towards you, “watch it, Missy. I told you it’s a secret and yes I do know what a peach is. I was born in Georgia.”
Your face faltered, remembering “you weren’t. Miles was. You weren’t born.”
Miles scooted closer to you in his chair. Even though he was sitting down, he was eye level with you. His long fingers came up beneath your chin to lift your gaze to his. “Right. I’ve got all of his memories though, Dorothy.”
You bristled at the familiar pet name Miles had called you, “not all of them. And you’re not allowed to call me that! Wait- how do you know he called me “Dorothy” more than just the first time we met?”
“Flashes are coming back.”
You gasped and searched his face for any hint of falsehood, “but I thought Norm said those were stuck in the soul drive?”
“I don’t know how any of that shit works, but I do know I’m getting glimpses of you back. Glimpses of us together.”
You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you looked into the depths of his amber gaze. You ripped yourself out of his grasp, but he was faster. He reached over with his unfairly long arms and grabbed your arms before you could run. He pulled you against him, your back meeting his chest.
Fighting your tears, you murmured, “let me go.”
He was so close. His breath skirted the edge of your ear as he almost purred, “not a chance. You can’t get rid of me that easily, Dorothy.”
You felt the tension in your body release as the urge to run disappeared. You sagged in Miles’ blue arms. His touch, his voice, the pet names, all of it was reminding you of Miles.
The real Miles.
The one who wrapped you up like a burrito and carried you to bed when you fell asleep reading. The one who would stand in the lab on his break while you worked, handing you instruments, and nodding along listening to you rattle on about the latest study. The one who would burst into the lab, despite Grace’s protests, and put a bottle of water and protein bar in your hands and a kiss on your cheek. The one who coaxed you back from the deathly clutches of the syekalin. The one who would’ve captured a star and put it in a jar if you had only asked.
But that Miles was dead.
With that, you felt the damn break. Your tears springing forth from your eyes. A sob escaped past your lips.
“Hey, hey, Peach. What’s wrong?” He spun you around to face him, his arms still encircling you.
“He’s gone! Miles is gone.”
“Breathe, sugar. I’m right here.” He pointed to his skull, “the wrapper might look different, but it’s the same candy.”
You buried your face in his chest tears leaking onto his military issued tank top he always wore. Your sobs slowly let up. Miles just held you in his arms until you began to quiet.
Sniffing, you lifted your head and gave him a small smile, “I’m sorry about getting tears all over your shirt.” You tried to dry the tears with your hand but just ended up smearing them around.
“It ain’t a big deal, Peach. Just cotton.” The back of his index finger grazed your cheek. A look that look suspiciously like adoration blazed in his eyes. You looked down feeling your cheeks burning under his stare.
It was at that moment you noticed that you were sitting astride his lap. You felt your cheeks grow even hotter at the realization.
Since Miles, you hadn’t been with anyone else. You had been on dates, but you were always looking for Miles in every person. You never found it.
Now here you were with his clone in every sense except appearance.
Miles Quaritch was the apple and you were Eve. In that moment, it didn’t matter if he was a Macintosh or a Granny Smith. He was still an apple. And you so desperately needed a bite.
You anchored yourself by placing your hands on his chest and moved your tear stricken face closer to his. You felt his breathing quicken with your own. You felt his muscled chest ripple beneath your fingertips your noses brushed against each other’s. Your breaths entwined. Your eyes roamed his face taking in every bioluminescent freckle, every band of differently shaded blue, every sparkling fleck in his honey gold eyes. The rational part of your brain was thinking about the logistics of how this was going to work. He was literally twice your size. The other parts of your brain screamed “eat the apple, eat, Eat, EAT!”
And so you did.
“Call me “Dorothy” again? Please.”
Miles saw the grief, the need for comfort, the hunger that was written across your face. Even though his eyes were a different color, they still gleamed that familiar sparkle of mischief you loved. He reached for your hands and played with the digits, contemplating. He peered directly into your eyes, the conflict completely having disappeared, “anything for you Dorothy.”
You met his lips with your own. His hands let go of yours and were immediately on you, touching you as though he had a thousand times. In a way, he had.
His lips moved over yours gently exploring. His hands roaming up and down your arms. He didn’t want to press you too far, but he had waited for so long for this moment. It took everything he had to see you day after day mourning his death when he was right there. It killed him to see you stuck in your sorrow. For him be the cause of your dimming. He wasn’t going to let go again.
Your hands fisted into his shirt and wound up into his hair, grounding yourself to this moment. You lifted yourself up and moved your legs to sit on either side of his hips, straddling him. Miles moved his hands to your back, gently caressing up and down attempting to soothe and reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. He gently coaxed you away from his lips to look at him. “Look at me, doll. I wanna make sure-”
One hand came up to thread through his hair, playing with the short strands. Your other grabbed his hand toying with the digits that were far larger than your own. “Miles, I’ve spent too long without you and I need you. Please.”
He lets the silence hang in the air, smirks, then lets a breath out. His hand wanders from your back to tangle into your hair scratching the base of your scalp, “you know I can’t say no to you.”
He pushes your head down to meet his lips, weaving your tongues together. He lets out a groan as you roll your hips down. His hand not tangled in your hair wanders down to your side. You feel the palm of his hand against your skin. You let him fill all your senses until only he remains.
Your hands wandered down his chest feeling the powerful muscles that lay beneath. Wandering farther, you worked them up his shirt letting your fingers trace over his abdomen. You feel him grab for a hand and places it over his heart. You feel the beat just underneath the skin.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
He pulls back from your lips and places your foreheads together. He looks into your eyes “see Dorothy. I’m okay. You’re okay. We are okay. Say it.”
“We’re okay.”
“Good girl.” He kisses your forehead tenderly lingering there for a moment. Both of you basking in the rush of oxytocin flooding your systems. Your hands lazily wandered to the hem of his top, pulling it upwards.
“You want me to take this off, is that it?” You nodded your head continuing to pull his top off revealing his physique beneath. His muscles were well defined. Miles’ hands went under your chin tilting your head up to his, “you want to take a picture, Peach?”
You beamed at him, “no, I’m just admiring Eywa’s work.” This was the thing you missed the most about him. The way you both would banter back and forth. Trading verbal jab like a boxing match.
“Wasn’t her. Was a bunch of science pukes.”
You gaped at him and laughed throwing your head back. You hadn’t heard that phrase in years. “That is not funny, Miles Quaritch! I’m one of those “science pukes” by the way.”
“Well, it got you to laugh. Didn’t it?”
“Yeah, but at what cost? I’m not gonna have sex with you anymore.” You move to hop up from his lap, but his hands encircling your hips keeping you in place.
“Oh no you don’t, little Missy. You’re staying right here.”
You stick your bottom lip out in a pout and said in a faux mocking tone, “aw did big bad Colonel Quaritch miss me?”
His index finger pointed to the center of your chest, “you. Hush.”
“Make me.”
His eyes darted down to your lips, “if you insist, sugar.” He pulled your mouth to his. You felt his fangs nip at your bottom lip. You tried so hard to hold it in, but a whimper escaped past your lips. You squirmed in his grasp. Those fangs drove you crazy.
“Oh, you like these, huh?” You could hear the smirk in his voice without looking at him. His lips traveled from your mouth, across your cheek, to nip at your neck. He smoothed over the small bites with his tongue, wandering further to bury his head in the crook of your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.
“M-Miles, please,” you struggled to find the words you were looking for. You felt his hands pull at the hem of your shirt, guiding it over your head and hardly detaching himself from your collarbone to toss it across the room. His hands continued to wander on your exposed skin, caressing your chest. His voice lazily washed over your ears like this was light work for him. “Please, what, sugar? Use your words.”
“I-I need you.”
At that, he removed his lips from your neck. You whined. His massive hand came up to grab you jaw, forcing you to look in his hungry eyes, “say it.”
Need was written all over his face. You placed a hand on the wrist of his arm that was holding you. You needed to loose yourself in him. You were tired of grieving him when he was right here. You needed him in the one place he wasn’t already occupying. Inside. “Miles, I need you to fuck me.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Peach.”
Your hands went to the belt that was around his hips, toying with the buckle that was between you and the fruit of knowledge. “I think I do. I was a science major, I know our biology is a bit mismatched.”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Your brows rose at that.
His hands encircled the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh there. You rolled your hips into his, feeling his length through the clothing that separated you. Throwing his head back, he sighed, “you have no idea what you do to me, Peach.”
You undid his buckle and pants quickly, “I think I have some idea.” Your hand breached the top of his pants, pushing his underwear to the side.
Holy shit.
You knew he had to be big just based off his height, but you did not anticipate him to be this large. Fuck, was he going to fit? You felt the heavy warmth of him in your hand. You let your hand trace up and down his length. Your eyes darted to his face as he lurched back up and let out a low groan, “shit.”
His hands came back around to your front and tried to undo your pants, but his hands kept getting in their own way. Miles let out little grumbles of frustration causing you to let little giggles fall from your lips. You shoved him out of the way and climbed off his lap to stand in between the legs bordering your sides. You stared at his abdominal muscles heaving from taking in gulp after gulp of air as you undid your button. You slid the zipper down, slowly working your pants and underwear off. His gaze following every inch you descended, while he rucked his own pants down. You kicked them off, tossing them with both of your shirts.
Finally rid of your clothing, you clamored back atop the Na’vi in front of you, sealing your lips over his. His arms caging you back in his warmth. You plunged your hand beneath his underwear, pulling it back, exposing his length and earning a small hiss.
Miles’ hands meandered to your thighs, inching their way towards your core. Catching your gaze, his adept fingertips brushed against your center, “baby, ‘m not gonna hurt you. Just need to get you relaxed, yeah?”
Nodding, you replied, “m’kay. I trust you.”
You felt him thumb your entrance, lightly testing, feeling your wetness. He huffed out a breath, “fuck, Peach. You really want this, huh?”
“I’ll always want this.” You pulled his kuru towards you, feeling the ebony strands pass over your palm. Reaching the end, you take the weft in your hand, turning it upwards, letting the hair fall away exposing the tendrils. Miles watched you intently. Returning his gaze, you passed your tongue over the fibers feeling them wriggle. His whole body shudders, “c-careful, Dorothy.”
“Mhm.” The vibrations from your response traveled from your mouth to the queue causing another violent shudder. Taking a breath and pursing your lips, you blow cool air onto the fibers.
Miles jolts upright, grabbing your thighs and lifting you, setting you on his desk. You felt his cock bob between your thighs. “I told you to be careful.”
He brought his hand to the apex of your thighs, swiping through your folds, working a finger into your heat. You gasped at the sizable intrusion, and grabbed his forearm. You looked down. His finger barely disappeared into your depths. You let your head loll back, “a-ah, fuck!”
“That’s it, doll. Open up for me.” His thumb circled your clit as he thrust his finger in and out. Your cheeks blazed at the squelching sounds coming from your heat.
In and out.
Around and around.
You felt the heat steadily building in your core from his ministrations. “Miles! I’m gonna-”
“That’s it, Peach. Give it to me. Cum.”
Your legs quaked and toes curled as you leapt from the cliff edge. Your nails scraped down Miles’ forearm. All the while, his fingers never relented.
He brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead and kissed you. Your arms sagged from the exertion of keeping yourself upright. He pulled your arms to rest around his neck, leaving kisses in his wake. His arm not pressed against your cunt came to circle around your waist, helping keep you upright. “Peach, I need one more.”
“Miles, I don’t know if I can do another one.” Your legs jolted from the circling still present on your bundle of nerves. His finger was still buried in your heat.
Giving your shoulder a peck, he gave you a fang filled smirk. “Sure you can, Peach.”
You felt a second finger nudge your entrance alongside the first. You dug your nails into his shoulders, “deep breaths, baby.”
You felt the finger slide down the length of the first, stretching you open even farther. He stopped to give you time to adjust, letting his thumb circle your clit to help you relax. Your walls squeezed around his fingers.
“I’m okay, you can move.” His fingers gently moved back a forth an inch at a time, slowly at first, letting you adjust further. You felt your release quickly building back up. Biting your lip, you let out a moan, “nhhh!”
His arm behind you tangled your legs around his trim waist. You felt his length brush your inner thigh as he returned his arm to its place around your waist. “C’mon, Peach. I can feel you getting close. She’s quivering around my fingers.”
His fingers massaged that spongy spot deep inside your cunt, making your eyes roll back, making you forget any time had passed. Tears pricked your eyes as you launched over that familiar edge, “fuck, Miles!”
“Thaaat’s it, good fuckin’ girl.” He kissed your temple and worked your through your high. You pushed at his hand as the stimulation overwhelmed your senses, a tear escaping the corner of your eye. His hand slowing as you came down.
You both stilled as you stared at one another. He brought his face close to yours, nose right next to yours. “Are you gonna fuck me now Quaritch?”
“If the lady commands, it shall be so.” You laughed at his corniness. He lifted your leg up into the crook of his elbow. You felt the blunt head of him notching at your entrance. His thumb once again returning to your bud, circling to soothe you. “Deep breaths, baby.”
You nodded, pulling in a breath and bracing for his intrusion. “Good girl. Gonna go slow, stop me if you need to.”
You felt him creep forward, careful to let you adjust to every inch. You felt ridges spaced evenly across the surface of him as he entered you. You moaned for the stretch. “Miles, Is your cock fucking ribbed?”
“Sure is, sweetheart.” And he fucking winked at you. He continued to insert himself into you. His length seemed so, so long. Never ending. And to be honest, you didn’t want it to end. The stretch of him was so good. The ribs along him adding a little extra stimulation to your soaking walls.
You felt his pubic bone hit yours and looked down. He was completely seated inside you. All 14 inches. You felt your head spin as you pulsed around him. You felt his chest vibrate as he let out a groan. He took your hand, placing a kiss on your wrist, “let me know when to move.”
Closing your eyes, you took a few deep breaths, willing your body to relax around him. Letting your arms rove over his shoulders, arms, and chest, mapping the battle hardened planes of him. You sighed, “’m okay, babe. You can move now.”
You felt him move his hips back halfway only to press back in. He was quite gentle. Significantly more gentle than years ago. That probably had something to do with him being twice your size now though. He dragged himself in and out of your cunt. You savored every cliff and valley of him. Miles let out a strangled moan as his own release built. “Peach, ‘m not gonna last. You’re too good.”
He pet your hair, “so good. All for me, huh?”
Whining, you nodded your head. Your hand came up to brush his hair back from his forehead, beads of sweat appearing from his exertion. He nuzzled into your palm. A sound that was suspiciously familiar sound left his chest. “Are you purring?”
It was his turn to have hot cheeks now. He lowered his head bashfully. “Can’t help it,” he looked in your eyes, “this pussy’s too sweet.”
His thumb returned to circle your clit, urging your release to build with his. “I know you’re close, Dorothy. F-feel you clenching around me.”
Your release was rapidly approaching, as was his. You could feel him twitch inside you. His hips thrust into you three more times before the cord was pulled taut and snapped. You tumbled after him off the cliff for the third time. He spilled into you coating your walls with bio-luminescent spend. He kissed you, swallowing your moans and giving you his own.
His arms shook from holding you both. He maneuvered you both back to his desk chair, plopping down with you in his lap, still attached. You lay your head on his chest, relishing the oxytocin, endorphins, and dopamine rushing through your brain. You felt his spend running down the inside of your thigh. A strange feeling but not unwelcome.
You lifted your head to find him peering down at you. His knuckles grazing along your spine. “Thank you.”
“Dorothy. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. On Earth or Pandora. No “thanks” necessary.”