(( In case anyone is just here for romance not a smut/lemon scene go ahead and skip this section. You won't miss any important plot details. ))

With Donna to brace her Natalya manages to walk upstairs to her bed where she lays down. Both are giddy with excitement and Donna, despite constantly covering it, can't stop giggling.

Donna reaches for the leather harness but Natalya gently takes her hand. The soldier smiles, "I should practice doing it on my own. I'll be okay."

It may be just a moment and a small gesture to Natalya, but not to Donna. No one touches her. Not willingly and not with any kind intentions. Yet Natalya does so brazenly and casually. With her head bowed she goes about unbuckling the prosthetic straps and gently removing each leg. With all the care in the world she sets them beside the bed.

Donna's heart pounds watching her every motion. There is no sensible explanation for it. She gets nervous around other people, sure, but this is different. Very different.

"There," Natalya sighs and grins, "Isn't that better than you dragging the chair upstairs?"

Donna says nothing.

"Thank you. They're gorgeous and they work really well. Now I just need some practice."

"Practice," Donna murmurs.

Taking the harness off Natalya yawns, "Thank you Donna, I can't say that enough."

"You're welcome."

At the door Donna stands outside. There's so much she wants to say but not with words. She's never been good with words. But neither does she have the patience to show it through her drawings or her dolls. No. This sort of emotion can only be shown with hands.

By the time Donna finds enough resolve she opens the door a crack silently. Natalya is just managing to peel her shirt off. Donna freezes. She moves her veil to see better.

Natalya's skin is creamy with dark moles dotted here and there. Her raven hair is dull and reaches halfway down her back. Taking the braid out she runs her fingers through until it's wild and free. Her exhausted, carefree expression has Donna tugging at the neck of her dress.

A starburst scar is lighter skin. It marks the skin beneath her left breast over her ribs. Her breasts are small but have a nice shape to them. Continuing down her long torso is a muscular build interrupt by the grotesque sutures and massive slashes.

Donna has never hated Alcina as much as she does now. How dare she hurt Natalya like that, and for no reason at all.

Finally stripped down to her boxers Natalya wriggles back into a loose nightshirt Donna had given her before laying down and turning out the lamp beside the bed.

In bed herself Donna can't stop her racing mind. Every time she closes her eyes she sees Natalya. Her rugged smile. Her gentle expression as she ran her fingers through her dark hair. The beautiful color of her skin in the light.

Her hands shake and her whole body feels hot and restless like never before. Tossing and turning does no good.

Falling into a fitful sleep Donna wakes in a home she's never seen before. It's quiet and dim. Looking around she waits for something to leap out at her. The horrors never wait long.

"Donna."

When Donna spins around Natalya is right there again. Close enough to touch the warmth of her body is like a drug. There is a lust in her eyes. Natalya's arms flex as she picks Donna up by her legs and pins her back to the nearest wall.

Donna gasps and grabs Natalya's shoulders for support. Natalya's firm body grinds against Donna's core, making her gasp and whimper at the same time. Natalya stares deep into her eyes like she can see through the veil. She pushes it aside to breathe down Donna's neck.

Squirming Donna rocks against Natalya. Instead of relief it only makes her want it more. It feels so good.

"N-Nat-" Donna gasps out as Natalya pushes her dress up and runs her fingertips up her bare thighs. Once again Donna is looking in her eyes when Natalya touches her. She's never been touched like this before but it feels right and it feels so, so good.

Donna's eyes roll back as Natalya's fingers stroke up and down and work in firm circles. Soon she's gasping, pushing the veil aside so she can breathe easier. With every pass of her fingers Donna wishes Natalya was inside her. Grinding down against her fingers is useless, Natalya just holds her tighter to the wall.

Looking into Natalya's eyes Donna wraps an arm around her neck and digs her other hand into Natalya's dark hair. Her voice pitches and her whole body feels feverish. She can't stop how her hips buck or how her back arches.

"Oh god. Oh god-!"

Donna snaps awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. Miranda is standing at the foot staring down at her. Sweat drips down her face and Donna shakes, grabbing for her veil.

"Good morning."

"Morning," Donna mumbles in return.

"Heisenberg tells me you made prosthetics for the soldier."

"Natalya."

"Oh good you named her. I'm here to check on her sutures."

"She, can walk," Donna's mouth is dry and swallowing is hard.

"Good," Miranda strides to the door, "I'll meet you in the bathroom then."

At the door Donna hesitates. Angie pushes the door open, "Rise and shine ugly!"

"Angie," Donna scolds her, grabbing the doll out of the air.

Natalya is already awake and pulling her pants on. It's a slow process with just one hand. Donna sets Angie on the dresser, "Miranda is here. Let me- Let me, help."

With the dream still fresh in her mind and between her thighs throbbing Donna is all too aware of Natalya's body. She's one solid muscle. Wherever Donna's hands brush as she helps her dress faster is firm to the touch. It only confirms what her dream though, Natalya would have no trouble at all picking her up and pinning her to the wall.

Except she's only got the one arm.

Donna knows that is her next project. It will be much more technical.

"The bathroom."