I am waking up slowly. My head hurts like hell. I am dimly aware that the room smells unfamiliar. No pre-programmed replicated coffee scent filling the air. Something more pungent and yet pleasant. It is not alarming to me, just intriguing. My hand is drifting to my hip to scratch an itch and encounters a strap of vinyl. I register this fact the same time as I register the sound of soft breathing from nearby. I am puzzled. I don't know if I can open my eyes, my head is hurting like hell. An image is coming to me through a haze: A bowl of Rice Pilaf. Or something like it. Another image: my Chief Engineer's smiling face. My thumb rubs across the vinyl. My mind runs over the puzzle of it. I am remembering kissing B'lanna. No, that cannot be right! My head is hurting like hell. I must be delirious. I must have been injured, but it does not smell like Sickbay in here. It feels like I am in my own bed. A sound made in sleep comes from behind me. Annika. Now I am remembering Seven asking me to call her Annika last night. Right after I tell her to call me Kathryn. Feels like a dream and yet I am sure I can hear her breathing right next to me. My fingers are following the vinyl strap that wraps around my hip into my damp(?) pubic hair, the strap is meeting what is turning out to be a thick silicon...can't be...but it feels like a phallus, and now the image is coming of B'lanna's face contorted in pain, no... no, it's pleasure because...
I was fucking her last night.
No, this is a dream. Has to be. Some erotic and terrifying dream. Like all the other ones about Mark or Justin, like the euphoric dreams of the Alpha Quadrant and the nightmares of being thrown clear out of the galaxy by the Borg, into starless oblivion. I will wake up soon. But my head is thumping like Hades, and someone is breathing gently on my back. My hand is wrapping again around a cock. Mine.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Wait, â |it is coming to me.
1930h last night. Rice Pilaf. Seven and B'lanna have been more at each other's throats lately. Too much. I order them both to accept my invitation to dinner in the mess hall after the rush, get some of this nonsense sorted out. Neelix has tried to outdo himself for us, or me, combining some of his preciously guarded spices with some of the new exotic grains and vegetables we took on at the last M class orb we passed.
The dinner goes well. Opening discomforts are soon alleviated and I feel all three of us relax into each other's company. I am genuinely fond of these two crewmembers and I am proud and pleased in the way they have each worked to overcome their stubbornness and pride to become such invaluable compatriots. Except for this latest little wrinkle which seems to be resolving itself brilliantly before my eyes.
I smile devilishly at B'lanna and tell her she should have seen her face when I promoted her to Chief over Carey.
"Yeah," she counters, "you had that Ice Queen look on at first, I remember!" Then she gets a look on her, the mix of surprise and remorse at her words.
I just smile. I take another bite of the rice and salty vegetable and chew, smile, swallow. "I know the crew has quite a few *pet names* for me. It's good to be popular on one's own ship." I smile again, a Cheshire cat.
As I am recalling this, I am not believing I said this to her, but there it is, clear now in my memory. I'm recalling hearing Seven laugh at something else I said too, and Neelix coming over with some kind of bread, and me thinking just how well my little tension-breaking plan is going. And how cute my Chief Engineer is. She reaches over and touches my arm with her last comment. After she has said to Seven that she isn't *that* bossy for a Borg, after Seven has said that B'lanna isn't *that* uncivilized for a Klingon.
My God, I am remembering more of it.
They are walking me to my cabin. We are light-hearted and light-headed, though the latter doesn't occur to me at the time. Why didn't we do this before, I think. This was so easy, and an enjoyable evening. Seven is coming out of her shell even! So I invite them in. They hesitate, then cross the threshold. B'lanna hasn't been in here before. She looks around, now she is looking at me.
"Spill it, Lieutenant!" I say. "What's on your mind?" I say it with a sweet and devious smile.
Seven pipes up. "She is thinking these surroundings do not match your demeanor," she says, an impish smile on her face.
"Oh?" I ask.
"Yes, your quarters are warm and welcoming, where as you, often, are not."
"What I was thinking was," B'lanna takes over, "the first time I saw you, I wanted to take you down, arrogant Federation. And the second time I looked, I thought I might just enjoy the task, too." She looks me up and down approvingly as she says it.
Oh Dear God! I remember the defiant Cadet I sometimes was, and there she is again, taking off her Captain's jacket and saying to B'lanna, "Wanna put your money where your mouth is?"
It is good I started it then, I think, in retrospect.
Seven smiles. This should be good, she is thinking.
And it is. B'lanna takes two steps towards me, which brings us right face to face so close, she is breathing on me. I harden my features. I put steel into my glare and I *dare* her. In one quick movement which I see coming, but do nothing to prevent, she sweeps my one leg out from under me with her foot, pushes me, and lays me out flat on the deck of my quarters. The air goes out of me a bit. She tries to pin my shoulders, and I grab her arms but do not make any effort to push her off me. I regain my breath heavily. I growl at her and push my thigh between hers. She kisses me a little hard and I like it. She likes it.
I taunt her. "So, did you ever give any thought to what you would do next?" I say looking up at her.
She takes her right hand off the deck and presses it over my left breast. I take my left hand and squeeze her hand and my breast and we both feel the nipple harden against her palm.
Seven speaks up. "Well, it would seem that the Captain *and* her quarters are more welcoming than expected."
The ridiculousness of the situation does not even register on me. The inappropriateness of it is even farther from my mind, maybe off the port side of the ship, somewhere in space.
I get it now, though.
The pain in my head is receding minutely and Seven's hand brushes my back while she shifts in her sleep. Sleep? Seven never sleeps, she regenerates. But the contact is delicious and it brings another wave of unbelievable images with it. I consider draping an arm over B'lanna whose back I see as I crack open one of my eyelids to survey the dim room. Even this small action rewards me with a renewed pounding in my head. I have no doubt that B'lanna would swing first and wake up later if I even touch her unannounced and the sensations from last night tell me not to risk her strength and reflexes. It already feels like someone has given me a good pounding. â ޔhat was Seven,' my brain quips as I run my fingers experimentally across my bottom and discover my raw and still swollen labia. I immediately turn myself on with the touch and a slippery trickle meets my fingers. I regret the action.
What in the name of Kirk has happened here?? Thankfully, these two loosely sandwiching me are yet asleep, oblivious to the shock that awaits them. It's clear that I have some major triage to do here shortly.
"Computer, time." I whisper.
"0600h," it responds deafeningly.
B'lanna snorts, says, "shut--up!" and returns to sleep without moving.
The wind goes right out of me as the most vivid full-body memory overcomes me. B'lanna saying, "Shut up, Federation, you talk too much!" As I'm laying/crouching over her, dragging the tip of the dildo back and forth over her slick sex. Her legs are spread wide to me and I am teasing her half to death, I hope, crooning at her as her breath is coming shorter.
This suddenly recovered image has hit me like a fist. I feel it in my lurching stomach and in my throbbing cunt. I remember reacting to her verbal taunt and then the feeling of driving slowly into her, sliding surely forward until my thighs meet hers. Her mouth making a perfect â ޯ' and her eyes rolling and half-closing as I do this. My body is much more accomplished at this fucking action than I would have thought, as her grunts also confirm. She is grabbing my ass for more leverage and spreading my cheeks in the process and I feel Annika's delicate touch flirt in the opportunistic exposure. I moan as I complete the next slow thrust, feeling Seven's fingers follow my motion and probe just a bit into me as I bury the extension of myself into the woman beneath me. I have to push back my orgasm as Annika's finger makes a small circle in the lubrication I provide more of. Her contact is gone then and I focus on the task at hand. I barely register the whine of the replicator behind me.
Then, warm oil pours over my back, and Annika's strong hands massage my muscles, distracting me from my building heat. I pause to enjoy this new sensation and allow my Chief Engineer to cool her warp core a little. Annika's hands move to my buttocks and her finger returns, teasing my heat back up. I make a play for more contact by rocking back into the pressure to take her in, but I meet a bulbous head of silicon instead. It is warm and I desire it more than I desire my next breath. By some silent signal, simultaneously B'lanna twists both my nipples painfully between her fingers as Annika mounts me fully from behind. I moan so loud and almost collapse; it feels so damned good.
It's been so, so, so, so long. God, I need this, I need, need, need this. I've forgotten how much.
B'lanna guides the jerking head of the cock I am wearing back to her and I slide in again. I imagine I can feel her textures and her muscles grip me through it and I almost come. I exert only half the effort now as Annika produces so much of the motion for me, through me and we are a thrusting, undulating mass of fucking. So, so good, I could *never* have imagined this.
Surprisingly, Annika comes first, and it starts to trigger me, the sound of her whining and the faster and harder rhythm deep within me. I look into B'lanna's eyes and she comes for me right over the edge and the very next second I explode. I am both fucking and being fucked and then neither, as I am disembodied, gutted, turned inside out by my incredible cascade of orgasms. I have no control. I yell and I think I drool a bit onto B'lanna's shoulder. I think I feel her teeth sink into my neck.
Then I wake up here. Holy Shit! I should be court marshaled!
In retrospect, I take note of the night's progressive giddiness and loss of judgement. The morning's headache and slight nausea.
An innocent-looking amino acid in some tomato-like fruits we collected last year gave half the crew dysentery symptoms for 2 days. I suspect we have been unwittingly poisoned again, but more pleasantly so, this time. Recovery could be a lot worse, though.
"Gentlemen," I say loudly to my officers as if we are on the bridge, though it hurts my head to do so, plus I am lying on my back. I am hoping to jar them to consciousness. "The ugly dawn is upon us!" *Then* I remember I am wearing a dildo. Jesus!
B'lanna jerks upright in bed, she glares at me briefly. "Kahlesssss!!!!" she hisses, then grabs her head, folding into a bit of a crouch. I see this through slitted eyes.
I haven't moved yet, I can't. Seven has sat up and swung her legs to the floor. She is fairing the best of the three of us.
"Computer, replicate three doses of analgesic, authorization: Janeway Alpha Six Beta. Seven?"
The replicator whines and Seven retrieves the hypospray, having gotten my meaning. She injects me and I feel the pain lessen. I reach across the bed to inject B'lanna who tries to brush me away, then Seven. I let a minute go by.
"Seems we are in a bit of a pickle," I say, trying to set a good tone for the resolution of this crazy predicament. Did I say resolution? I mean damage control.
"The rice," Seven deduces immediately. "Something in its makeup must have had an unexpected effect on our systems. I believe I feel *hungover*."
I am unbuckling the harness from around my hips stoically as if I am only adjusting my uniform. My head is not hurting anymore but my muscles are sore. I wonder what other images will return in time, what else I have done or had done to me that I just don't remember yet. I am running my hand along my neck and think I feel the impression of a set of teeth etched in. We need a dermal regenerator and I'm not even sure if I can use it on my raw backside. I should have found that out in my cadet years, but Admiral Paris was too demanding. I was up at all hours doing research, not tomcatting around as I could have been. I smile at the thought of how I have just made up for some of it. Better late than never, I think.
I get up, naked, and find my bathrobe as quickly as I can. B'lanna is finding her clothes.
"So, it seems I started all this," I admit, remembering goading B'lanna into knocking me over. Plus, I need to show some leadership here. "No doubt we are feeling a little uncomfortable now. I know I am. How would you two like to handle this?"
"Regretful already?" B'lanna spits out, looking offended.
I level my gaze at her. "I didn't say that." I say it slowly for emphasis and I feel the corner of my mouth turn up.
Her face softens and I know she is relieved.
"Well, we can discuss that later. Right now I want you both to report to Sickbay. Make sure there aren't any more surprises for us with this food reaction. I'll talk to Neelix and see the Doctor later myself. Disclose the symptoms you've experienced at your own discretion, but let's clean up the scratches and dents here first." I notice a couple red marks running across Seven's back. I look at my nails, but find no conclusive evidence.
I pull a regenerator out of my bedside table drawer and run it back and forth over my neckbite. B'lanna gives me one of those, "well, well," looks and Seven asks, "Those are standard issue to Senior Officers?"
I did learn a *few* extracurricular tidbits as a cadet. "No," I say, "but the higher one's rank, the more imperative it is to hide any ill-gotten minor injuries that may mar one's *otherwise* flawless image." I state plainly. "Seven, are you alright?" Seven is sitting on the bed making no motions to get dressed.
"I do not understand the nature of this discomfort you speak of. If the chemicals in the food we've eaten have removed our inhibitions, then that merely illuminates the presence of our desires, does it not? Is it not preferable to fulfill one's desires? Were our actions incorrect?"
I harrumph and look over at B'lanna who raises an eyebrow at me pointedly. I seem to be the one with the biggest problem here. It's the other woman in my life making me nervous: Voyager. I can upset her only at all our peril.
I look back to Seven. "Let's just say that a Captain doesn't usually let any of her crew see her naked." I am so glad my head has stopped pounding. Now only one part of my body is throbbing painfully. "Not incorrect, Seven, just... unanticipated."
Seven is starting to dress, satisfied with my response.
"Well, ladies, thank you for joining me for dinner," I say as they are both finishing dressing. I don't know what else to say. Seven gets ready to leave, her biosuit simple to adorn. She is twisting her hair back into form, saying, "It was a most enjoyable evening, Captain."
She approaches me and my heart beats faster. She kisses me deliciously, soft on my lips and the taste is so familiar now, it makes my knees weak. She turns and leaves my quarters. Her scent lingers in the air around me.
"Don't worry, I'll catch up to her before she gets to Sickbay," B'lanna assures me, zipping up her uniform jacket. She turns to me. "Why did you let me knock you over, anyway? I know you could have stopped me. Not indefinitely, but I was only going to try the once."
"I wanted to see if you would really do it, Maquis! And what you would do next." I give her an inscrutable stare, then can't hold it and grin. "Won't ever call me the Ice Queen again, will you?"
"No, Ma'amâ |" Her turn to kiss me. Soft lips embrace mine. Ohhh... and then she gives me a little nip on my lower lip with her teeth that startles me, and sends a jolt right to my belly. She knows it too, as my stomach muscles jerk.
She steps back, and I am close to losing it again. My body seems to want hers next to it.
She says, "Will you get that recipe from Neelix? As part of your documentation, of course."
"Of course. Yes, I think that would be prudent." I reply.
She says "Good," and then leaves.
After a few minutes I think I want the headache back. This head-rushy giddiness is making me feel dizzy and disconnected from the solidity of the deck and my perception of reality as I knew it. I must still be full of alien toxins, I tell myself.
How else can I explain my behavior towards my crewmembers?
And where else would this stomach pain that aches like longing be coming from?
* * *
My traditionalist parents spoke of â ޣabin fever' like it still existed. "The ancient settlers would get snowed in during the winter for weeks at a time, honey," they told me. It had to be explained to me at age six that there was a time when there were no transporters, food replicators or weather control; that pioneers could be winter-bound in their homesteads and would get â ޣabin fever', the result of long periods of confinement and lack of contact with the outside world.
I like to sit in the messhall and read my daily reports some evenings just to break the monotony of sitting in my Ready Room or quarters. Sometimes, like now, I imagine I am back at the Academy in the Cafeteria after midnight working hard at my papers. Saves a trip to the holodeck, and I still get work done. I understand cabin fever *very* well these days.
B'lanna shatters the Academy illusion for me by walking up to the couch I am sitting on with a coffee next me on the end table. She looks fidgety. I feel distinctly panicked by her approach. I had just managed to get last night out of my tired head for two seconds while reading the security report. She asks how I am as casually as she can, but doesn't pull it off well.
It is not yet after midnight and a couple of the dozen or so crewmembers in the lounge glance over at the very odd tone in the Chief Engineer's voice. I go into damage control mode.
"Just catching up on a few extra reports, Lieutenant. Is there something I can help you with?" I hate doing that to her, but I do it anyway. This is not the place to have any sort of discussion with her. I put on my command mask as I am thinking desperately, â ާet the hell out of here!!'
"Ah.... no. I was just... wondering if you had gone over that.... impulse drive refit schedule I gave you last week." Oh, God, she doesn't know what to do. Which makes two of us. She is looking like she is in fourth grade and has to go pee.
I know I look cool as a cucumber under this kind of stress; enough boyfriends and diplomats have said as much. "I'll go over it first thing in the morning. Tuvok has been insisting his security report takes precedence over all." I wave the padd I have been reading in the air.
She looks confused, says, "thank you," then skulks out of the hall.
My heart is racing. I go back to reading the padd. I stay for five more minutes to make the timing of my exit appear â ޮormal'. Then I bolt for my quarters. I am not waiting for Seven to find me here too, a sitting duck.
* * *
She's entered my quarters. I wish I had said "who is it" instead of "come."
"What the hell is the matter with you??!" B'lanna is demanding as soon as the doors shut behind her. She's actually yelling a bit.
"What's the matter with *me*?" I reply indignantly. Jesus, I am too tired for this right now.
"You are pushing me away. After last night, and this morning, now you are all cold. I deserve more than *that*!"
Fuck, I had to sleep with the only Klingon on board, the only person with the nerve to yell at me like this. All day, the events had plagued me. The Doc confirmed it was the food reacting in our systems. He thinks I just told a few jokes, though, said a bit more than usual. Ha! I couldn't keep my mind off of Seven and B'lanna all day, and how *good* they felt, how good it felt to be held, caressed, fucked, fucked bloody hard for once in my life, and fucked so lovingly, except when I couldn't keep my mind off the ship, the overwhelming responsibility I have for it, the way I potentially endangered it by indulging myself, albeit in the madness of a poison in my system. Shit, shit, shit!
"You deserve? What do *you* deserve, Lieutenant??" Mercy, I am pissed now! I have felt torn in two all day. "Not one of us on this ship is getting what we really deserve! I, for one, deserve my privacy, and now you've seen something of me I would never, ever, have revealed to you under normal circumstances. Your Captain laid bare, so to speak." I don't even smile at the pun because none of this is at all funny. "We all deserve to be at home with our loved ones. Deserve not to be attacked on a weekly basis. Deserve better than we have gotten ourselves into here! I deserve to pursue your love if I want to and if you will have me, but I don't *have* that freedom. When it comes to this crew's welfare and survival, there's me and then there's whatever creator exists, if one does.
"So damn you for asking for more! Damn you for offering me more than I can have!" I am almost hysterical. I know I am letting go of the control I usually keep on myself. Part of me is thinking if she wants me, here I am in all my â ާlory'! She will not again question that I am giving everything I possibly can already! I shove her hard backwards, my hands connecting with her shoulders. "You were so soft, so giving, soâ | and I am the fucking Captain of this misfit crew, damn, it! I have no luxuries, aside from my blessed coffee. Not allowed any. Duty, drilled into me, restricting me and if not that, then my natural and desperate hope to get everyone home driving me. And how many have I lost already?? B'lanna, you can't know... " I almost cry, but my anger asserts itself again. "So fuck you if I am not looking after your every need... Fuck!" I shove her again. She stumbles backwards and I try to catch her, not wishing her any harm despite my tirade, but instead, we tumble to the floor together. Again we are on the deck. I lie there, the fight gone out of me. She is on top of me again, but now I find I don't care one way or the other.
She starts kissing me, putting delicate slow caressing lips on mine. I am not responding, but I don't think she is trying to arouse me. In spite of my completely unprofessional behavior in the last few minutes and instead of returning my belligerence, I find compassion coming through her contact.
"B'lanna," I make it a half-hearted command to stop.
"No," she says, "let me."
She is kissing down my neck, the same slow, thoughtful touch. It is soothing so I allow it. I have little power to do anything else at the moment. I haven't slept. I haven't had a peaceful thought all day. I have been fighting with myself in my Ready Room, I have nothing left to fight her with. I don't *want* to fight her off, that's my conflict. But my position as Captain demands it of me.
I am a weak woman today, something I have rarely allowed myself to be and B'lanna's attentions, the way of them (and she has gotten under my jacket collar now, unzipping it to reveal my throat, which she is breathing warmly on in between nips and kisses) is urging me that it is safe to have this weakness, this need. Is it??? I have no choice because I can muster no resistance.
I am weak now. I surrender. I collapse the bearing of my command. She unzips the rest of my jacket.
It is not passion she is awakening, but longing for touch. I allow her to pull my arms from my jacket sleeves. Her lips return to mine. I still do not kiss her back, I moan instead. I say her name, in recognition and acquiescence this time.
"Stop fighting yourself, Kathryn," she whispers into my mouth.
"I am not fighting. Your tide has me and I am drowning," I respond, desperation evident in my tone.
"You won't drown."
I kiss her then. I wrap my fingers around her arms and kiss her like she is my last breath of air. Our lips play and she lowers her weight onto me. We are kissing for many minutes, and her body keeps shifting gently over me, its movement reminding my body of her embrace around it, protective, mirroring, a gentle surface against me. It's not sex, it's connection. And it's the structure of rank falling away. We are human to human, skin to skin. But I feel as though I am being ministered to, I am being provided for. She is kissing my breastbone through my shirt like I have seen women kiss the feet of a crucifixion icon. I accept her benediction. My all-too-human heart is beating mightily towards her lips through my ribcage.
The heat evaporates as she pulls away and sits up, straddling me. She calls the computer to eliminate the lighting, and my eyes adjust to the starlight filtering in from the passing dashes of light in the window. She is undressing me the way they undress Sickbay injured, restricting their movement. She must still think that I will resist. She takes off her own clothes too and then lays back down over my naked body, excruciatingly slowly, so I feel every inch of the contact being made. Her thighs feel cold, her belly hot and her chest warm as we connect.
I wrap my arms around her tightly, not wanting to let go of her, afraid now of losing this relief from anxiety, this warm, safe place between us. She has led me here and I am deeply grateful. Her weight on me feels like a good anchor. Her tongue playing with mine speaks a language; one I have not used in so long, maybe never. It feels like never.
She pauses and whispers to me. "Watching you come last night was the most beautiful thing, Kathryn. Your face..."
I blush. My hands are roving over her strong back all the while.
"Will you show me that again? Will you let me make love to you?"
"Ohh..." is all I can reply. It comes out of me a moan. We have been at this an hour, my body is relaxed, my passions are rising, my mind is compliant. I shift under her to try to separate my thighs for her. She lifts herself off me and trails kisses down the center of my chest and stomach. I feel gentle warm energy flooding me. She moves back to my chest and puts a warm hand over each breast, holding them as she licks at my breastbone. She massages one breast and allows the nipple to surface between her thumb and forefinger, then covers it quickly with her lips and pulls it into her so hot mouth. I cry as if I have been hit with a phaser and arch up painfully to her. Fire is running through me now. Every cell is aware of her. Before I can protest to her too fervent approach, she recedes, again slowly kissing the bottom of my ribcage, working her way across my belly, releasing my breasts to take my hips in her massaging hands, and arrives at my parting thighs, blowing air over them.
No one has ever gone down on me. I've claimed I didn't like it. I didn't really know if I would and it seemed so personal an act that would make me especially vulnerable. I think of this now as B'lanna's tongue is meeting my swelling pearl for the first time. So warm! A soft sensation I immediately like as much as I like kissing her. I think of the others I barred and that I was right to do so. It *is* an intensely personal experience. She runs her wet tongue all over my wet sex; a curious sensation, like an unexpected massage. She is showing me that my most private and sheltered place is beautiful to her, the way she is so tenderly addressing it. I am drinking in the affection and acceptance.
She makes her soft tongue into a point and flicks it a little into the well of my vagina, and suddenly I feel my relaxed energy tense into sexual desire so quickly it takes my breath away. Her tongue returns and probes deeper. It is so amazing a sensation, it centers me on my sex completely. She bathes my pearl again with a soft flat tongue and looks into my eyes as I gaze at her from propped elbows. Then she drives her tongue deep and I call to the ceiling and collapse back to the floor and she licks the inside of me over and over. I never, ever thought I could feel this way. As each stroke of her beautiful tongue satisfies its last departure, it creates a stronger longing for its next return. Continued indefinitely it will surely kill me. I am gasping in every breath. Wholly undignified, I spread myself more, silently begging her to fuck me.
She slides her delicate fingers in, finding spots I thought only I could. I won't be long now. I am grinding my hips fiercely against her hand and her mouth returns to my outer sex. I am almost howling. It feels like she is touching every inch of my body at once.
"Kathryn, let me see your face. Look at me," I hear her say.
I struggle back up on my elbows. Meeting her eyes gives me jolt and I know why I avoid absolute vulnerability like this. Her eyes are on me, her fingers inside me and I am about to burst in front of her. But she has shepherded me here, I haven't drowned or last my way. I am safe and she flicks her tongue and I come onto her fingers jerking my hips and holding her gaze. She looks like she might come too, just from watching me. Then I close my eyes to hold back tears, but I can't and a few tears fall as I am still coming, the last few convulsions. I lie back on the deck on my jacket.
She is crawling up over me, looking into my face I am glad it is so dark in here. I am a little shy now. I feel blissfully weak.
"Thank you," she says as she kisses my cheek. I don't know how to respond to that so I don't.
I am laying here, totally in awe of what has just transpired between us. And I am dog tired. B'lanna gets up and goes to my bed and returns with a blanket and my pillow. She lays the blanket over us both, places the pillow under my head as I lift it for her, and then she snuggles into me, her head on my shoulder. If she is craving my touch, she shows no sign of it. This woman has shown me such devotion. Not the devotion of time, but one perhaps more fleeting, yet at least as powerful, of deep connection, reverence, and understanding. I wonder what a relationship with her would be like. I'd never survive. Or perhaps I would just learn to swim.
"I'm going to fall asleep," I mutter. I don't want to, but I can barely keep myself conscious after the last 24 hours. "Sorry..."
"Why don't we go to your bed, then? I'll carry you." B'lanna replies.
"Don't be ridiculous. I'll walk." But I am already in her arms, scooped up in the blanket. I throw my arms around her neck. One more surprise this evening. "Don't drop me! I won't bounce," I say, laughing. I wake up a little, thinking of the heap we will be in if she trips.
She half dumps me onto my bed as her strength gives out. We arrange the blankets back into some semblance of order and snuggle back in. The bed feels kinder to my still-aching body than the floor had. Coming face to face, I just want to kiss her, and so I do. My tiredness has receded to unsheathe again my desire for her. I am astounding myself. Not as old as think. I wonder what her sex will taste like. Her lips taste... I can't describe her flavour, but it is unbelievably good. I don't know if I have the patience to treat her to the divine doting she bestowed upon me, but I'll try.
I start by sliding down the bed a little, kissing a trail to between her breasts. In the dim light, I can see her nipples are hard. In my head I challenge myself, seeing how long I can hold back, not putting my wanting lips on them. See if she gives in first and presents one to my mouth. I lick between and under both her breasts. I am trying to turn her on, to excite her and I know that she was only caressing me in reassurance when she started on me. I am being much more devious.
Her nipples are still taught little peaks and she moans as I lick up to her collarbone again.
"I am trying to be patient," she whispers through clenched teeth, her head thrown back on the pillow.
"My Love, what are you desiring?" I say innocently. She takes my face in both her hands and moves her torso to bring a breast to my face. I take it in between my tightly pursed lips. I win. And then I lose it as I feel the texture of her hard nipple, my tongue caresses around it, it is the sweetest thing I have ever tasted as I circle it with my tongue around and around. She moans quietly in sweet victory. I take more in and nurse her beautiful breast, for the longest time as if my life's supply is coming from it. I release it and take in the other. She moans loudly his time. How could it have taken me *this* long to realize I love breasts *this much*?? Better an epiphany late than ignorance forever, I guess.
I am ready to venture lower, even as I hate to leave those magnificent and firm, young breasts. I trail my lips over her stomach to circle her belly button and I see she misses my attention above as she pinches her own nipples. Something I have never thought to do, touch myself while making love to someone else, or while they are making love to me. I try it experimentally, rubbing my fingers roughly over my right breast. I gasp at my new-found arousal, and push my tongue into B'lanna's belly button. She growls.
The growl makes me suddenly remember she is half-Klingon. I blow air across her skin and sink my teeth into her inner thigh. Before I know what has happened, she has grabbed a handful of my hair, twisting it in her fist. She is sitting up and lustfully cursing loud Klingon at me. I yell in pain. She lets me go. I half expect some of my hair to remain in her hand.
She looks a little bashful. "You've never made love to a Klingon before," she states.
"I'll be more careful," I say sincerely. I decide to leave her Klingon passions as undiscovered country for now and tread more carefully. I place gentle kisses along her thighs experimentally and get no violent reaction. I kiss up to her hairline and she parts for me and immediately I am dragging my tongue into that hair, probing down to the parting of her folds and I taste her for the first time as I reach moist and slippery skin. Salt. Then sweet, but not like any sugared anything I've ever had. A new kind of sweetness floods my palate. I feel a nub of swollen her and she groans again. I suck at it, gently just to be safe. Her pleasure gives me a feeling of power but humbles me too. I know the vulnerability I felt earlier.
I rub my tongue across her. I start a rhythm against her. Rubbing my tongue over her sex feels like an ancient activity, deep within my bones I recognize it. The rightness of worshipping her this way. I find it strange how instinctually familiar this is, like the first time I went camping and gathered wood, made a fire, smoothed the ground for a bed; this feels deeply and intuitively *right*. I am at a loss to explain it. Something essential, of essence. Like tying knots in rope. Survival. Ritual. Am I making any sense in this age of fantastically advanced technology?? I lap up her juices knowing they somehow nourish me as she moans her pleasure.
My deepest wish is to bring her to an orgasm. To give her that pleasure, participate in it, that ancient right. I don't understand what is happening to me but I go with it. Maybe Chakotay can explain it to me, if I ask vaguely enough, about this type of sacred fusion. She is calling to me to accelerate her pleasure. I lick into her, into that dark place. She calls "yes", desperate and guttural. I drive my tongue, deep as I can. I slip my fingers in, two of them to stroke into her, feel her in her moist woman-ness. She is ripe and I pluck at her. Her moaning song grows quicker and stronger. I tickle and massage, vibrate and nurture. She releases against me, I move to lick her pearl, my fingers taking her crushing jerking capture. For a split second her grimace makes me picture her in childbirth. I keep my thrusting contact, witnessing this release. Sharing in her divine experience. Goddesses, us both.
Her sex is red and wet, swollen and she is bathed in a sweat. She has just worked herself into a fever over me. That thought takes a moment to sink in. We aren't merely two women in bed, I realize. My heart has opened. Something unexpected has found its way out.
* * *
The alarm goes off. 0500h came too damned early this time. I turn over to regard B'lanna who has pulled the covers over her head. This time at least I expect her to be there beside me. She doesn't seem to be a morning person. I have to be on the bridge in an hour.
I reach over and stroke what hair is left outside the covers. She emerges and sees me and smiles. We move immediately to embrace; breasts, bellies, gazes meeting. Her warm glow surrounds me.
What am I going to do? I sigh.
* * *
"Katarina! How are you?" DaVincy is always so happy to see me. The warm colours and antique surroundings never fail to calm me here.
"Master. I am troubled today."
"Sit, sit. I am finishing a drawing. What is your trouble on this fine day?" He sits back down at his table and gestures me to unburden myself.
"I have won the affections of someone I command." I say simply.
"Ah. A troubled place indeed. Surely this is not the first for this? You are such a handsome young lass." How refreshing to be thought of as young!
"Yes, I'm afraid it is. I find I don't know what to do. I take my leadership very seriously, of course. But this...one gives me such a deeply pleasant feeling. Would I not be a better leader if I were more content and not lonely all the time?"
He pauses to consider this. "How willing are you to suffer disgruntlement amoung your ranks? How able are you to stop it?"
"Master?" I ask.
"Surely you've turned many a young man's head! To choose only one leaves the others unsatisfied and discontent, and you know the danger of an uninspired army. But perhaps you have their undying faithfulness. You must look at your rank and file and act as you find the generosity of your men allows. After all, you are there to lead *them*, and through some difficult times too, if I have any understanding of the task you face."
I consider his answer. It is not the carefree go-ahead I was hoping for. He has made an excellent point, though, one most definitely mirrored by Starfleet regulations.
"Thank you, Master. If I may give you my leave, I have duties to attend to." My head feels clearer, but my heart is heavier.
"It is always a pleasure when you come by, Katarina. Think well on this. I know you will choose wisely."
* * *
I am in my Ready Room with the other council I must seek.
"Commander, what would you say to the idea of me taking a lover amongst the crew?"
He looks surprised. "Have anyone in mind?"
"Why yes," I grin wickedly. "Neelix, of course. No, this is purely hypothetical. Your opinion, please."
"I think that could land you in some hot water," he says thoughtfully.
"How so?"
"Well, how would you pick this person?"
"The usual way, I imagine. See who shows interest and who captures mine. Provided they are the same person."
"What about the ones who show interest and are not picked? Or the ones who secretly have desire for you and say nothing? Or the ones who have no thought of you, but only of their own unsatisfying loneliness that at least you are bearing along with them? I would think that it could ruffle some feathers. Like when you picked B'lanna over Carey for Chief." I look sharply at him. Did he know? "That took a little while for everyone to accept. But that was a necessary command decision. It was understood that it was to be accepted by the crew.
"This could be a little different, given the personal nature of it. Jealousy is a powerful emotion. On the other hand, I don't know that I have ever been part of a crew that was more loyal to their captain than this one is to you. It may be that after an adjustment period, it would become a non-issue." He was considering this with the same attention he gave all our decisions.
"Hmmm. I'd like to think that the crew would adjust. But Master DaVincy had a similar concern to yours, that resentful people quickly stir the pot and influence others, even if not meaning to. I must ask then, how jealous would you be?"
He pauses. "My jealousy would be equal to my happiness for you. And would be lesser than my devotion and willingness to serve you and this crew."
"I see. Thank you for that honesty, Commander."
* * *
I have been thinking all day about what Master Da Vincy and Chakotay have said. Chakotay's admission of jealousy was brave and sweet, and his loyalty even sweeter. He has proven over and over the greatness of his humanity. He revealed his love for me on New Earth. This would be difficult for him.
Am I falling in love? I don't know. It's more than just hormonal longing, that is for sure. I've watched my dogs go through their heats and there have been many times on this ship I could sorely sympathize with their frustration. A terrible thing to rut unaccompanied, unrelieved. True, B'lanna and Seven brought the heat out in me, when I was not expecting it.
But last night with B'lanna, I felt a closeness, and a letting go I have never before experienced. Only read about in books and dismissed it as overly romantic 19th century literature. Last night I felt my instinct rise and my barriers against vulnerability fall. I felt that I touched the timeless power of female: both within me and moving under B'lanna's skin, flowing between us as her sex gripped me when she came. Are men aware of this? Do they even know the Sacred Garden we welcome them into? Surely not if I, myself a female, experienced my own self as ripe and beautiful fruit in the eyes of another for the first time at the age of 42. How *could* they have an inkling?
Mark never made me feel like this. Nor Justin. Maybe I never allowed them to. Maybe it just wasn't possible for us. Maybe I needed a woman to bring me to myself like this. So many questions!
I suddenly feel there is a vast uncharted landscape within me I have just become aware of. I need a guide, or a co-wanderer. When I was given Voyager, I thought how becoming a name it had, suiting well my questing (scientific) nature. I remember as well, those annoying psychology-major cadets who claimed the greatest voyage was within. I thought them so smug. Damn them for being right!
The thought of licking B'lanna's nipple flits across my mind. Pure lust! It is followed by the memory of my contracting womb, as we had held each other, spent, raw, and safe in each other's arms, and it even gives a little shudder now in the recollection. We were One. For a short time. The vastness of space only the rest of our body.
I am not one with all space now. I am again a small humanoid in a lost ship battling those impossible distances and odds. Must I choose only one of these voyages?
Clearly I have to do some more soul searching and speak with B'lanna. And Seven.
Seven. I have not spoken to her since she left my quarters yesterday morning. Unforgivable. I can't begin to think what I will say to her. I hope she can tell me how she is feeling. I hope I can figure out how I feel. I love her. I know that. I have loved her long and hard. How else could I have given her so much, so easily all this time?
* * *
I walk into Cargo Bay two. Seven is at her station working on something.
"Captain," she says, looking up at me only briefly.
"Seven. How are you?" I ask. "I thought about you a lot today." Oh God, that sounds lame. I want to blurt out, â މ love you! Oh god I don't know what I am doing!' which of course I don't. I *am* the Captain.
"I am almost finished calculating the best course for the ship through the next parsec." Her tone is efficient, neutral. I can't tell if she is offended or distant or *normal*. I've had a fondness for her right from the time she paced angrily in the brig demanding to be returned to the Borg. That feeling comes upon me much multiplied as I look over her facial features trying to discern her mood, finding those full lips I had kissed, her cheek I had stroked softly in lovemaking, the implant beside her eye she had allowed me to lick.
Damn.
"Annika."
"Kathryn?" One eyebrow raises.
"Where are we?" I tilt my head saying it softly. I am not the Captain. I am a woman wondering.
"Cargo Bay Two." Eyebrow falls, then creases towards the other in confusion.
"No. I mean how are we? I mean, things have changed. I came to see how you were with that. With us."
"Us?" She pauses. Her bearing is neutral I decide. Mine is less confident than I am used to projecting. More vulnerable, which at this moment I can accept, a new sensation for me. "I didn't assume there was an â s', Kathryn. Should I have?" She looks puzzled indeed. I had forgotten that human emotions were difficult for her to understand and process. Why had I forgotten that? The connection the three of us shared had allowed Seven to come out from behind her controlled shell and show emotion and *passion*. It made me think somehow that she would be able to share emotions more easily afterward, as B'lanna had. I forgot that I wouldn't be dealing with a normal woman in these far from normal circumstances.
"Well, no. I am not assuming anything, either. It's just that usually, after you have shared what we have recently,.."
"You mean sex, Kathryn."
"Yes, but more than that, Seven." How to explain? "So much intimacy. It can be an uncomfortable feeling if you aren't ready for it. It wasn't *only sex* because we know each other and care for each other and we shared something much deeper than we have before. And now we have to keep working together comfortably. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That we are okay."
The things I have to explain to her! I wonder if I am doing her a favour. I hope I am doing this well. Shit! I'm afraid I'm not.
"Seven, I want you to know that I care for you greatly. I love you. I'm not sorry about what happened and I want you to know that, that I don't feel any differently towards you. I feel a little exposed and unsure, but I think that is to be expected. My feelings are deeper for you, if anything. This sort of thing usually makes people feel uncomfortable or strained if there isn't some communication about it. I don't want that to happen." I am looking at her earnestly. For all I know she has filed the experience under some Borg classification of intimate relations experiments and gone on with her duties, thinking no more about it. I was hoping the humanity she showed me the other night would continue to flow for her. I hoped she would continue to trust me with more of herself, but maybe she couldn't. Sometimes I had no idea what she needed.
She was gazing back into my eyes. "Thank you, Kathryn. I am touched. I am unsure what I want. But neither am I sorry for the adventure we had. Do not worry."
I move closer to her and cup her face in my hand, looking sincerely into her eyes. "Please talk to me about this anytime, Seven. All right? My door is always open for you."
"Yes, Kathryn. I will." She takes my hand in hers and kisses the palm. "Thank you," she says, releasing me.
I lean up and kiss her on the cheek. I smile at her and she smiles back a little shyly. I find it reassuring, that small smile.
"I'm glad we talked, Seven. Thank you." I smiled again at her and left the cargo bay.
* * *
0500h. The alarm goes off. A deliciously warm body is pressing against my back and a slender arm is curled around my chest. I have B'lanna's hand in mine nestled between my breasts. I don't want to get out of bed and leave her warm embrace; my small oasis of comfort in this vast unfriendly quadrant.
The alarm goes off and I wake up alone. It was a dream. I sigh. I miss her.
Damn.
* * *
"Captain," Ensign Kim has that rising inflection in his voice that I know means trouble.
"Report, Ensign." I shouldn't really have to prompt him like I still do, but during his first few bridge duties, we evolved this pattern of call and response that never got discarded. Clearly something on his monitor is troubling him.
"There are three ships on long range sensors approaching our position. They are coming at high warp. I don't recognize their signatures." Harry reports.
"Distance?" I demand.
"50,000 kilometers and closing. Estimated intercept in 3 minutes."
"Raise shields. Mr. Paris, continue on course, but prepare for evasive maneuvers. I don't want to be caught with our pants down!" Chakotay surpresses a smile beside me. He knows I occasionally throw in an oddball remark like that to diffuse tension. I think Tom considers me a fuddy duddy with these little sayings, and that amuses him, so mission accomplished. I hope we all grow old enough to be considered socially out of step one day by young whipper snappers like Paris. Depends on what these latest ships want.
It is a tense two and a half minutes as we wait. Harry breaks the silence only once to tell me that the ships have their shields raised and armaments ready. I ask Mr. Tuvok to make the same preparations. Twenty seconds out we receive a hail, audio only.
"Clear this area at once, this is your final warning!" A voice that I can only describe as *slithery* broadcasts across the bridge. I picture a reptilian species.
"This is Cap...."
I don't get to finish the statement as the ships cruise right over us at what must be Warp 8, firing as they go by and rocking the bridge with multiple hits to the ship. A panel crackles and smokes on the aft deck and Paris leans to the left to stay in his seat.
"Shields down 26 percent, some minimal damage to Engineering reported, Captain." Tuvok relays.
"Ensign Kim, where are they now?"
"Continuing their course and speed, Captain, they seem to not want to bother with us."
"That's welcome news," I quip.
Engineering. B'lanna.
"Bridge to Engineering, Lt. Torres, Report!" I hear myself bark. I *need* to hear her voice.
She responds quickly, much to my relief. "Warp drive is functional, Captain. We got a little shaken up down here, but we're managing. I don't advise pushing past Warp 7.5 if you can help it for a while."
"Understood," I respond. "Mr. Paris, let's get out of here, Warp 7. Commander, you have the bridge, I'll be in my Ready Room," I say to Chakotay.
I ask the replicator for a coffee, and stand holding it and watch the stars streak by. This has never happened to me before. The moment I heard Tuvok say â ޅngineering', all I could think about was that B'lanna might be injured.
Previously I had always thought of the crew as a whole, as a functioning part of the ship I was responsible as its leader to protect. Not that each person wasn't an invaluable individual in their own right, but to me, we were all one unit that I must keep as intact as possible for all our sakes. Certain individuals were more crucial, but no one life significantly more *important* to me than the others. Until now. Suddenly the loss of one specific one of them is more than I can face. I haven't felt this gut-twisting fear since the loss of Daddy and Justin on the Ice Planet. It is something I never wanted to feel again. I think I am in over my head.
On second thought, I'm *sure* I'm in over my head, but I think it might feel kind of good this time.
* * *
B'lanna bursts into my quarters at the end of her shift, covered in dirt. Where do you even *find* dirt on a starship, I wonder, much less near the pristine environment of the engine core?? She looks so cute, and so capable. I love both things about her. I've come to grips with it. I love her. In the small way you love someone when you have just fallen for them, though it feels so large until it matures into something larger, or else withers away.
"Ready to talk?" she asks.
She has given me the almost two full days I asked for to think things between us over. Seeing her in Engineering during that time has been difficult, the meeting room discussions sheer torture. I could barely keep my attention off her at times, knowing I may have to choose to abandon our hatchling relationship. Wanting to touch her just once more. She was seamless in her professionalism towards me. It was agony.
"Yes."
"Can we do it in bed?" she asks hopefully and with a cheeky grin.
"Yes, I suppose that would be all right," I reply. I have been craving her touch since I asked for the time to think. It is amazing to me that a week ago, I had never known it or sought it. Now, I was desperate for it.
She walks into my bedroom, and I follow, unzipping my uniform jacket. As I cross the thresh-hold, she has already removed her own jacket and turtleneck. She smells of sweat and I notice her clean arms in contrast to her dirt-smudged face.
"Did the warp-drive win today?" I ask playfully.
She rubs her hand over her cheek and looks at the smear evident on her fingers. "Do you want me to take a shower or are you asking me for a report?"
"Neither," I say as I am striding towards her. I take her in my arms and breathe into her neck deeply. She smellsâ | heavenly. I want to hold her and touch her, but as much as that I want her company. I want to share her presence and her friendship. But right now I want it minus our clothes.
We both strip. The two uniforms are unceremoniously discarded on the floor and we climb into my bed. She climbs on top of me, our breasts just touching as she holds herself up over me to look into my face. My hands wander up and down her back of their own accord, stoking down and over her beautiful bottom and back up her strong back to her neck.
"Well, Captain?" she asks. Evidently she knows I have been weighing my duty against my lust. Not lust, I remind myself, need. Human physical and emotional need, and ability to share the more private parts of myself. And love. I would give that to her. Suddenly I know I want to trust her with that. And that I can.
"Are you ready to be a Captain's girlfriend?"
"Any Captain, or did you have a particular one in mind?" she retorts and I deserve that for starting with so flippant a remark.
"I was thinking about the Captain lost in the Delta Quadrant - the one who's been a little lost without you these past couple of days."
She descends on me, kissing me, pressing herself into me as her answer. I gratefully accept her weight and her affection. She feels so good against me. We embrace for minutes until I push her up off me gently and say, "It won't be easy, sometimes, for us."
"Nothing in this damned quadrant is easy, Kathryn. But we can make it a bit easier for each other, together. What else matters outside of that? We can both keep on doing our jobs and be here for each other. I can't think of any better way to get home, can you? I think I'm in love with you Kathryn, and I'd like a chance at that, if it's okay with you."
"Yes," I could hardly choke out the words, "that's okay with me."
We are holding each other as if we've been apart for years instead of days. It feels to me that we've journeyed so far together already, and I hope this is just the beginning'.
End.
(but I hope not)