Star Trek: Theurgy

Scosche Bellde'side had been stowed away for months now, stuck in this cargo chamber with little to do.  He'd done the best he could, nearly breaking several bones as he set up the training equipment, equipment he needed to keep himself in peak physical condition.  The gymnastics he performed was difficult in the cramped space of the room, and to use one piece of equipment, he had to move the others each and every time.  He had never been trained for isolation and found it difficult, not to his liking and had looked forward, more and more, for the petty officer, who'd first brought him aboard, to bring him the scant supplies she'd been able to scrounge.  A rolled up sleeping bag, a thin pillow, those were the only items he'd had to sleep with and were items he had to stow for him to exercise.

Days had passed since she'd last been to see him and, try as he might with his limited Betazoid senses, he could not detect her aboard any more, which scared him somewhat.  The last few weeks alone had been the most fearful and seemingly insane, the intense arousal he'd assumed was coming from the crew driving him nearly to the breaking point.  And, now, even his one point of outside contact, the petty officer, seemed to no longer be near, leaving him alone and without access to food or water without leaving the relative safety of his small, empty cargo area.

As he sat with his back against the wall, pondering his situation, he couldn't remember exactly how he'd gotten talked into the tour that had landed him here.  Way back then, a lifetime ago it seemed, he'd met a young, attractive petty officer and, after spending the night with her, had accepted her offer for a tour of the latest ship in the fleet.  He knew it was undoubtedly improper for her to bring someone unauthorized aboard, but could recall enjoying the illicit nature of the endeavor, the sense that he was doing something he could definitely get in trouble for but doing it anyway.  And, then he'd been trapped aboard when the ship took off into warp, the petty officer not telling him why or what was happening for several days, only telling him to remain in the cargo area until she returned.  When she did, he found out just how deep his troubles were.  The ship had been hijacked by lunatics, was his first thought and became the reason for him to remain hidden, out of sight of the rest of the crew who might kill him if they came to know he was here.  How else would they treat a man who was on their ship while they were seemingly at war?

The hours seemed to blend into each other for everyone and the Wolves were right in the thick of things.  There were patrols as well as repairs and other duties they had to perform on board.  Even the bit of free time they had was usually spent doing more on their Valkyries.  After a check of several, some replacement parts were needed in the cockpits.  "Computer ... where would I find translucent aluminum for the cockpits of the Valkyries?"  The almost dissonant tone chimed and Thea's voice came through the comm link.  The translucent aluminum is located in a small cargo hold on Deck 11, Number 11.  "Thanks Thea," she replied and headed that direction.

When she opened the door, something seemed a bit off but Skye couldn't put her finger on it exactly.  Things were piled all around, some boxes had even fallen, but there was something that reminded her of the old barn back home.  With a little shrug, she started working through the piles and stacks for the materials needed when she spotted some crumbs of food.  "What the ...?" she muttered.  Looking behind a haphazard tower, she noted a ration pack that was open and still had a bit of food.  Glancing up, she noticed some rings hanging from the ceiling and her forehead creased from her frown.  Walking over to a couple of what she thought were stands, she realized they were a crude imitation of parallel bars.  Blowing out a breath, she started back to looking about but the aluminum was forgotten now.

Poking around here and there, she found more evidence that someone was spending time here which she thought was strange.  Everyone had quarters and it didn't look like someone had made a lover's nest.  Pausing in her movement, she listened intently having thought she heard something and moved carefully in that direction.  Behind another box she found a sleeping bag and pillow with a PADD laying next to them.  Crossing her arms over her chest, she stalked to the center of the area and looked around.  "Alright, if someone is in here I'm really not in the mood to play hide and seek and this better not be a prank Miles.  My toilet seat has never been the same since you welded the seat up and I can't get a new onereplicated."

Scosche started at the sound of her voice, his heart thudding in his chest, blood pounding in his ears.  Part of him feared coming out, feared the death that might find him should he do so, but part of him roared at her tone, angered by the need to hide.  He had struggled all his life, fighting down the Klingon instinct to take arms against anything that might harm him.  This time, however, was different, harder to control.  He had been isolated too long, left alone without sentient contact and wanted nothing more than to lash out.  As quietly as he could, he got to his feet and edged along the wall until he caught sight of her.  For a moment, he felt taken aback by her beauty, her brown eyes and blonde hair captivating him for half a second.  With a shake of his head, he dove from his hiding spot, launching himself at her.

He had absolutely no combat training, the few fights he'd been in occurring in the school yards on Betazed, but he was dexterous, limber and strong.  He had no way of knowing his nearly a foot taller than her, or his almost one hundred pounds of additional weight meant little in a fight, where he lacked even the most basic experience.  Still, he would go out fighting.

A slight scuff of a foot on the floor and a tiny bump of a box were the telltale signals that something was about to happen.  Maybe Miles had more in mind for training that flight simulations?  As soon as the body launched at her, she actually turned to face it and fell back, using the momentum to send it up and over to land unceremoniously in a bunch of boxes.  Quick as a cat, she kicked up to stand facing him again with her left hand out open palm out and right hand pulled back ready to punch.

The face was no one she knew and warning bells rattled along her spine.  "Thea seal the exit and send security!" she ordered and backed up a moment as she assessed the man.  "I don't know who you are," she said quietly but with every manner of being able to back up herself, "but let's be civilized about this so you don't get hurt."  Her eyes narrowed and then her head tilted slightly to the left.  "Wait a minute ... you're Scosche ... the gymnast ... explains the apparatuses around here."

She didn't let her guard down, not completely, since he had jumped her.  "Why in the heaves would you be on Theurgy?  You're not Starfleet and last I knew we didn't need a gymnast for entertainment though you are kinda cute," she grinned trying to charm him a little and maybe get him to talk.  "I'm Ensign Skye Carver and I'd rather have your autograph than a black eye."

With a thud, he felt the impact jar him, the boxes making his landing only slightly better than hitting the wall directly.  Still, he had had worse during his training and rose to his feet quickly, orienting himself back on her.  He was competitive by nature and his civilized side was suppressed.  That she recognized him meant little, though it did sink in when she asked for his autograph.  It might have been months, but autographs were a huge part of being a celebrity, even if it was only in Olympic sports.  He sank back down against the boxes and sighed.  He hated fighting, always had, even now he wasn't sure why he'd decided attacking her was a good idea.  The fact that she'd thrown him as easily as she had showed just how bad an idea it had been; he would probably have gotten his butt kicked.  With a sigh, defeat mingling with the hot, bitter taste of anger, he nodded, "Fine, fine, you win.  You found me."

He held his wrists up to her, expecting that now he'd be taken to a cell somewhere, if they even allowed him that much.  Maybe it would be an airlock instead, or a firing squad.  He had no way of knowing, but there was at least some relief.  Whatever came next, it would be better than the endless sitting and waiting, the not knowing.  Looking up at her, he sagged just a bit, "I suppose you'll kill me now, huh?  Can't leave a civilian alive when you're at war with the Federation."

Skye had expected him to come at her again and it looked like he might but then he just seemed to fold in on himself.  It was when he held his hands up to be cuffed and taken away that she dropped her guard.  She knew that posture and the tone of voice too well.  "Hey ... we don't go around killing famous gymnasts without a good reason," she said gently and approached him somewhat cautiously.

"Someone's been talking to you at least a little about the shit hittin' the fan and after all this time they've been providing you with some food ..."  Looking in his eyes, her own were concerned on many levels.  "We're Starfleet but we're not the bad guys," she tried to explain.  "They tried to take us out and keep sending people after us but so far we've managed to keep limping along."

Squatting down, she placed her hands over his.  "Security will have a lot of questions for you but you don't seem like a threat.  As big as you are, I shouldn't have been able to toss you so easily ... you've been eating those damn rations too long and need some real food.  Once we have an escort, we'll have the EMH check you out and maybe they'll let me bring you a good hot meal."

In a way it was surreal, seeing one of the greatest gymnasts ever.  She'd tried hard as a kid but never could make it past regionals.  She had the power but not the grace they were looking for and by the time she did well enough with dance classes to incorporate it she'd decided she wanted to be in Starfleet like her father.  Good thing she wasn't security because she wasn't exactly following protocol.

He still wasn't sure he could trust her, or anyone else aboard, but for the moment, he had little choice.  Despite his size, she was right, she had tossed him far too easily.  It forced him to rethink his exercises of late, realizing that he'd begun wearing out sooner than he should have, stopping earlier and earlier each time, unable to keep up the pace he'd had only half a year ago.  It was depressing, more depressing than being kicked in the gut by a girl and taken down by someone who seemed almost half his size.  It didn't help that he'd had little to eat in the last 48 hours, rationing out what little food he had when the petty officer hadn't shown up at her usual time and faced with the thought she might not show up at all.

Almost crying at the thought of a hot meal, he leaned forward suddenly and kissed her, daring to hope he might actually survive.  His mouth was harder on hers than he'd intended, but his intent was the same, gratitude, elation, and just a touch of true hope.  The petty officer had offered nothing, and it came to him that she had been keeping him like she might a pet, dependent upon her good graces to keep himself alive and deceiving him about the trouble he might be in should he be discovered.  While still not letting what little of his guard that remained down, he wanted to believe that maybe they weren't all crazy.

Crazy is a relative term and one used to describe Skye more often than not but though she acted a tough girl, there was definitely a cream filling inside.  Watching his expression, she saw the hurt and anger as well as fear and loneliness and was about to say something when suddenly he leaned forward and took her head in his hands and kissed her.

When the crew member of the Relativity had beamed her aboard and she knew she was safe, she'd thrown her arms around the man desperate for that moment of contact that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the person standing before her was real.  There was that same feel in this moment and she didn't resist but simply returned the kiss and touched his face with gentleness.

When their lips parted, she looked at him and brushed the hair back from his ridged forehead.  "Shhhhh, it's okay," she murmured softly and held his gaze as she tried to comfort him.  "It's going to be okay, just breathe."  Glancing at the equipment he'd devised, she smiled.  "Maybe once things are settled, we can work out together.  It'll be good to get me back in practice."

"Um... sure," he answered softly, his eyes traveling up and down her body, evaluating her condition.  Her size would give her some advantage, but if she was out of practice, it would take him a while to get her up to even a token's throw of his own abilities.  She might have been able to kick his butt, but when it came to his sport, he had proven himself to be the top competitor.  It took him only a minute to calm himself, mostly because of his weakened state, but at least in part from the touch of her hand over his forehead ridges and the way she smiled.  There was something about her that eased the stress of the past months. 

He looked down at himself, at his once skin-tight clothing, loose now from the loss of weight, and at the smudges of dirt that coated him.  Much as he might have tried to maintain a hygienic schedule, without a sonic shower or running water, it was difficult for him to get truly clean.  Given the last few days, he had no doubt he probably had a particular smell, unwelcome, around him and he looked up at her in apology.  His eyes traveled past her and to the equipment he'd cobbled together, "If we do, I surely hope you have something better than these things.  They were torture to put together, and they aren't particularly stable."

Slowly, he rose to his feet, stretching out his long limbs, working out the kinks being thrown had caused.  He'd be bruised in a couple of places, he was certain, but it could have been much worse.  Had he landed differently, he might have ended up with a concussion or a broken bone.

She had known talking about his equipment and possible work outs would help him and it was certainly good to see him calm down, knowing when security got there that he would be calmer and they wouldn't have to resort to firmer measures.  His evaluation of her brought a smirk and beep of his nose.  "I may not be your caliber but I can probably surprise you with a few tricks."

When he looked at her, obviously embarrassed about his condition, she patted his hand.  "Not that long ago I spent weeks alone in the black.  I've scrubbed and aired out my Valkyrie I don't know how many times and I myself took at least five baths before I felt clean again."  When he stood, she did as well.  "Computer ... unlock the door," she stated though stood between it and him just in case.

In a much more friendly manner, she stated "Thea, I know you're really busy but would it be possible to beam myself and our guest straight to Sickbay and have security meet us there?  He's been tucked away and looks to be suffering from some malnourishment.  He could also use a good bath and some more comfortable clothes so he can enjoy a decent meal.  Might want to have Lt. Nelis meet us too."

Jerking his head back, he rubbed at his nose, her action surprising him.  He couldn't remember the last time someone had done that to him, it had been at least since his childhood and, if he knew his father, it had probably been some well-meaning person who had gotten beaten up for doing it.  It made him feel small, like a child, as though despite everything he had achieved, he was undeserving of respect.  He knew he would likely get knocked back down, so he restrained himself from lashing out.  No doubt, she, just as that long ago person, meant no harm by it and, after all, there might be actual hot food somewhere in his future.

Rising to his feet, he glanced at the door as it opened, and then at the way she stood between it and himself.  He wanted to point out that, even if he should decide to make a run for it, there was no where he could go.  It wasn't like he knew the ship and could find another place to hide.  No, the only thing that would happen, even if he made it past her, was likely getting shot in the back by some security officer.  As he had been before, he was entirely dependent on someone else, which rankled him.  He had grown accustomed the most liberal restrictions on his freedom while growing up, most of his time spent in the deep forests of Betazed, practicing and training while his mother collected her samples and tested her biological theories.  She'd had few rules, most of them around not touching the lab equipment and making sure she knew where he was at all times.  And, it wasn't like there was much to do in the back woods, the nearest civilization hundreds of miles away.

He looked around the cargo area, then back at her, "I seem to be at a loss.  You know me, and apparently you know... Thea, is it?  Whoever she is.  But I don't know you or her.  Is there someone out in the hallway?"

[Acknowledged,] said the disembodied voice of Thea over the intercom, [Initiating Medical Transport]

There was a shimmer around them, and they both ended up in Sickbay. Given the hour, Dr. Nicander was not present, so Thea activated the EMH Mk. I once they materialised. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency," said the hologram and sighed a little, eyes coming to wander over the two possible patients. It picked up a medical tricorder and began to scan them both in turn.

Right then, the sliding doors opened and two Security Officers with hands on the grips of their phasers stepped into Sickbay - alerted by Thea while on patrol and being closest in that area of the ship. "Identify yourself," said the blonde one, stepping forward and leaving the dark-haired one to watch the trespassing person for any sudden movements.

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OOC: A short transition post for you guys, where I relinquish the hologram and the security guards to your control. I am spread too thin for another thread atm. Hope this works!

The look on his face when she tapped his nose reminded her that not everyone enjoyed having their space invaded but after he'd kissed her she'd thought he might enjoy a bit of playfulness.  There was a light sigh but she didn't want to make him feel any more defensive.  All she wanted was to make him feel comfortable and not alone, like someone actually cared.

"The only people who might be out in the hallway would be security," she informed him.  "And Thea is the ship, sort of short of Theurgy.  There's a holographic projection in a humanoid form that interacts with the crew.  She's really neat and when she has the time, I'm sure she'd like to get to know you.  Most of us just talk about work so she might like to actually talk to someone truly spectacular."

Her words were sincere though he might sense a moment of embarrassment.  Once she'd realized who he was, there was a definite fan feel to her emotions though she was doing her best to hide the little crush she had on him when he first rose to fame.  More than that though, she admired him for his achievements.  She knew how hard he worked to become one of the greatest athletes.

No sooner had she made the request, they were in Sickbay and the EMH materialized.  There was something about the grumpy balding projection that was endearing, at least for Skye.  He was no-nonsense and when it came to dealing with trauma she'd take the grumpy because the end result would be the best possible care that could be given.

"I'm fine, Doc, just him," she said and then looked up as the doors shished open, signaling Security's arrival.  "Easy guys," she said holding up her hands.  "He's a little misplaced and feeling picked on enough.   If he wanted to hurt me when I found him, he would have and honestly ... where's he going to run?  Why don't you talk to him while Doc looks him over and I'll just wait over there."

Reaching out slowly, she gave Scosche a light rub on the shoulder.  "They'll get you a shower and clean clothes.  Once the doc's done with you, I'll take you to the mess hall and get something decent in you," she reassured him and turned to security.  "I know things are crazy right now and Lt. Commander Grayson will want to interview him as well as the captain, but I'd be willing to stick with him until that could happen.

"And, you cal..." he'd been about to ask a question when he was interrupted by the prickling sensation of being transported.  While not unaccustomed to being beamed, his preferred method of travel was walking, which, if not possible, was followed by shuttlecraft.  It was an odd, defenseless feeling to not be in control of one's movements, to have to rely on the transporter and its technician to make sure he arrived at his designated location in one piece.  Unlike walking or shuttlecraft, where at least he either knew, or could get to know, whomever was in charge, could evaluate for himself whether he or she was at least competent, not that he knew anything about flying a shuttlecraft.  Perhaps it was illogical, but it still reassured him.

With the abrupt arrival in Medical and the unexpected appearance of the EMH, he stepped back in surprise, then nodded at the hologram, who eyed him with dispassionate interest.  It made him slightly uncomfortable, but doctors were doctors, it seemed, even holographic ones.  He turned his head as the doors opened, admitting the security officers and cringed back, taking Skye's hand without thinking.  While most of him seemed locked in place, a part of him snarled at them, wanting the fight.  The security guards took two paces away from each other, as though sensing his unspoken aggression and Scosche moved a little behind Skye uncertainly.

The security guards eased their postures but only a little at Skye's words, still not taking their eyes off the towering man before them.  Scosche still wasn't sure what to do, but the EMH seemed not to care one whit about the guards and took Scosche's arm, pulling him toward a medical bed and forcing him to lay down.  Nervously, his eyes trying to keep the guards in sight, which fought with his natural curiosity to watch what the EMH was doing, who kept telling him to lie still as it ran scans.  The EMH spoke aloud as it worked, commenting on the healed bone fractures and breaks, signs of Scosche's long training, though more fractures than breaks, thanks to his Klingon genetics.  Almost as an after note, the EMH said something about malnourishment and Scosche jumped as he felt a hypo against his neck.  Turning to Skye, who had activated it, the EMH pronounced Scosche in need of proper nutrition and, judging by Scosche's appearance, a bath, then stood aside and waited to be deactivated.

The dark headed security officer smirked when Scosche ducked behind Skye, the image of a Rottweiler ducking behind a miniature dachshund coming to mind.  That dachshund had a mean bite though, this much he knew.  She didn't have much of a chance to step aside and thankfully the exam was over fairly quickly though she had glanced back a couple of times with a grin as the man didn't want to remain still.  She knew how he felt, hating laying there like a lab specimen waiting for dissection.

After a few minutes of talking with whoever was currently in charge of security, the blonde guard looked at the EMH and seemed satisfied that the stowaway wasn't in medical danger.  Stepping forward, his eyes seemed to water a moment and his nose wrinkled.  "Definitely a shower," he said a bit nasally and hooked a small metal bracelet around Scosche's wrist.  "Tracker," he explained and stepped back once it was secured.  "Time to get you some clothes from the quartermaster and a shower," she said.  "You boys are welcome to come along," she said to the security officers.

"We'll be close by ... just not too close," Blondie replied and Skye's lips pursed as she tried not to snicker.  "Alright then," she said and with a tilt of her head toward the door, raised an eyebrow at Scosche to follow.  "Thanks Doc, you're a real peach," she said with the Wolf salute and then "Computer, deactivate EMH."

A quick trip to the quartermaster garnered him regulation underwear and the black slacks and shirt.  It would be comfortable at least though definitely wouldn't confuse him with actual personnel.  After that, she pondered a moment and decided it was best to ask.  "Would you want to shower in the gym or somewhere more private?  My shower is a little small but you wouldn't have anyone peeking at you."

Flushing deeply, ashamed of his appearance, Scosche shrank back on the bed the closer the guard got.  It was, for a second or two, a struggle for the guard to get Scosche's hand long enough to get the bracelet on and Scosche winced as it snapped in place, wondering to himself if it was absolutely necessary and, more darkly, if it was so they could find him more easily to kill him later.  Either way, he was stuck with it until someone else decided to remove it.  Yet another thing he would have to be dependent on someone else for.

Rising, he followed along after her, anxiety making him twitch his head to watch the guards the longer they remained around.  It was nerve-racking to him to have them there, to not be sure what exactly they were for.  He was hardly a security risk, though, it occurred to him that maybe he should just treat them as he might bodyguards, people nearby who were meant to keep unsuspecting celebrities safe from particularly aggressive fans.  Once he made that distinction in his mind, he settled some, able to take in the ship around him, admiring the construction and recessed lighting.

Running his fingers along the wall, he was a little surprised to find the lighting not as bright as most other ships he'd been on.  It was probably a conservation of power thing, he decided, and maybe he'd ask about it later.  In the meantime, he paused when she did, arriving at the quartermasters.  When she handed him the garments, he stared at the pile of fresh clothing for a few moment, his fingers taking in their unsoiled texture.  He wasn't sure why, but something about having clean clothes was... well, euphoric, as though he'd never thought to experience it again.  Lifting the pile to his nose, he breathed deep and smiled broadly.  Though the garments were not his usual apparel, their manufacture below what he, and his sponsors, would have chosen, he was still glad to have them.  Looking up at her, he shrugged, "Either is fine with me.  It's not like I'm unaccustomed to being gawked at.  I've been on twenty different planets for various competitions and I get gawked at no matter where I go.  I'm kind of hard to miss."

It took him a moment to realize she'd offered her own quarters for him to get clean in, that maybe there was something else to the suggestion he was missing.  He'd been around women only a few times, his training keeping him both busy and exhausted much of the time, and, as most men, knew little about them.  He watched, hesitating, then added, "Your quarters would be fine, though."

Skye had given the guard a nasty look when she saw Scosche's embarrassment and struggled to not double up her fist and punch him.  The poor guy had been through enough, she thought, and she was trying to put him at ease which was hard to do when he was feeling like a freak show.  She also tried to put herself in their place, to understand that they were trying to do their job but maybe that was part of the reason she never stuck with security.  Sometimes you just had to be too much of a bitch.

When he held the clean clothes to his face and inhaled deeply, his smile brought another one from her and she nodded.  "Nothing fancy but comfy," she said and waved him on to follow her.  "There are a lot of repairs going on right now so lighting isn't as bright as usual," she stated when she noticed him looking at the lighting.  "Guess we look a bit like a ragamuffin but we're still moving and that's what counts," she continued to chat and hoped it was helping at least in terms of not feeling so lonely.

Stepping into her quarters, she wondered if their shadows would come inside but they simply stood on either side of her door.  Well that's gonna make people wonder came the amused thought but then she remembered his comment about people gawking.  "I'm sorry if you feel like I was gawking, sort of got caught up in the fan thing a little myself," she stated.  "I promise I won't do that anymore and if you'd like to ask questions while you shower, I'll do my best to answer them."

Showing him where the soap and shampoo were, she pulled out a big fluffy towel for him and set it on the sink.  "I'll just be out there with my back turned," she said again with that reassuring tone.  She wasn't going to hurt him or molest him even, was simply trying to offer herself as a friend and someone he could trust.  Andrus had treated her much the same though admittedly that had been a little different situation and there was definitely some molesting going on much to mutual satisfaction.

As the door closed behind them, he took a deep breath and released it slowly, glad to have at least a token wall between himself and the guards.  Even with his usual bodyguards, it had taken him months to get used to being followed around, to having next to no privacy.  They'd known when he did even the most basic and private of things, but he'd been told time and again that they were for his own protection, that his life was at risk from fans who might want to hurt him, both his own and the fans of those who'd lost in competition to him.  They'd been with him most of the last four years of his career and he'd grown to trust them, especially Thomas, a Rigelian who had saved his life on more than one occasion.  Why he'd never learned to fight he attributed to never having time, having spent all, when he wasn't sleeping, on the mat, rolling, tumbling, flying over and under the bars.  That was the part he loved the most, the complex ballet of dancing from one bar to the next, defying gravity, especially at his weight and size.  On a good day, he could keep it up for an hour or more, his moves graceful and, by now, instinctive.

As they stepped inside her quarters, he took in the room, not sure what he should expect, though he turned his attention back to her.  Blushing, he confessed, "I don't think I'd mind you gawking at me."

Watching her as she backed out of the bathroom, he began undressing, soon enough down to nothing.  Now that he had a chance to notice, he found it hard to believe she'd deigned to be in the same room as he.  Even to himself, he smelled bad.

Her quarters were quite spartan really, just her bed and a bedside table, dresser, and a desk and chair.  Her closet was small and next to the bathroom.  There were a handful of pictures on the desk and two on her nightstand, all of an older man and woman who were likely her parents.  Other than some of her dirty clothes on the floor, which she hurriedly picked up while he was showering, it could easily have just been a cheap hotel room or bachelor ... well, bachelorette pad.

His comment brought a sly smile, a teasing glint in her eyes.  "Careful or I just might peek," she winked.  Considering she usually went for things like that at Warp 9, she was tempted to offer to scrub his back but as skittish as he seemed she figured that might not go over so well even if he did seem a bit interested.  As she tossed her dirty clothes in her hamper and listened to the water pouring, she thought it amusing that one of her crushes was right there in her shower and she was out picking up dirty clothes.

Sitting on the bed, she thought about the man and his situation.  Who had brought him on board and why had he been left like he was?  It was inhumane and she felt herself wanting to hunt this person down and stick them in that hold with barely anything so that they would know just how much they had made Scosche suffer.  Now he was stuck on the ship away from everyone he'd ever known and no purpose.  In his position she would be seething and wanting to lash out too from the humiliation.

"So what's your story?" she called out over her shoulder to where he could hear her.  "How'd you get on board and what the hell has been happening to you all this time?"  There was genuine interest and concern in her tone though not pity.  She wouldn't want anyone to pity her and he still had most of his health and faculties and the ability to take care of himself which meant he had every chance of finding a purpose on board until the captain figured out what to do with him.  Until then, she'd help him as much as she could and as much as he would allow.

His blush deepened with her response and he smiled as she walked out.  Finished undressing, he looked at the sad pile of clothing, then decided to worry about them after his shower.  As he stepped into the frosted glass stall, it took him a moment to figure out the controls, yelping as the first shot of cold water splashed against his chest.  It took only a moment for the water to heat up and, soon, he was pushing his head under the jets of spray.  At first, he didn't hear her, the heat and moisture sinking into his uncared for skin, seemingly down to his very bones by the way it relaxed him, making him feel almost like jelly.  He never wanted to leave, could only barely imagine better sensations than what was currently bombarding him.  Despite all the things he had missed while... well, while being held captive, showering hadn't even been a consideration.  He would have to ask for something chocolaty, maybe a sundae or some cake!  But, for the moment, a shower should have been near the top, he thought to himself.

Jostled out of his thoughts by the realization he'd missed something, he tried to decipher what it might have been.  Shaking his head, he couldn't for the life of him remember her words, only the sound of her voice.  Leaning his head out of the shower, he said, "I wasn't paying attention... and it's a little hard to hear you over the water."

Before he could think, he added, "You can come in here, if you want.  Just, no peeking."

When he first didn't answer her, she figured he had his head completely under the water.  She'd done the same thing herself when she had the chance.  Her long hair had been snarled so badly it was almost matted, tempting her to cut her hair but she was too stubborn and liked it long.  Short hair just didn't suit her taste for herself though there were lots of women on whom it looked really wonderful.  So ... she'd showered an inordinately long time, soaping herself and rinsing and soaping and rinsing only to do it all again and she remembered the sensation of finally being clean again.

"I wasn't paying attention ..."  She had been at that point herself and shook her head to clear the cobwebs that seemed to try to collect in the corners.  "You can come in here, if you want.  Just, no peeking."  Thankfully he couldn't hear the throaty chuckle and the muttered "Nothin' I haven't seen before."  If he were looking he would see her walk in with a hand over her eyes, granting him that bit of dignity.  "Not much better than getting clean after weeks of  being grimey," she commiserated and turned her back so she could drop her hand.  "I was just asking how you got on board and, well, I know it's probably not a pleasant story but I'd listen if you wanted to talk about things."

"I was taking a tour of the ship," he started, looking at her back, noticing that she'd entered and given him the privacy he'd asked for.  It was courteous of her, but he wondered if she'd taken a peek anyway, and part of him hoped she had.  He'd worked hard on his body and stood tall and slim, stronger than most men his age.  Turning back to the shower, he began soaping himself, cleaning his skin.  He grimaced at the swirl of dirt that spun down the drain, patches of his skin growing paler and paler.  It was pleasant to begin to feel clean and he began scrubbing his skin as he answered her, "Ja... um... a petty officer brought me aboard.  Things were going well, the ship was in a much better condition, at least from what I've seen.  Then things just... they fell to pieces.  The alarms rang hard and the petty officer hid me away in the cargo area before running off to her post.  It was a while, almost 24 hours, before she returned, her first day of keeping me locked away.  She brought food and water and news.  She told me the ship had been taken by mad men, the captain claiming the Federation was being destroyed from within.  It was madness, obviously none of it was true."

He sank his head beneath the water once more, rinsing the soap from his hair.  It gave him a moment to think, then ask, "It's not true, right?  It's impossible.  That the Federation is no longer in control of our leaders?"

"A tour of the ship ..."  Skye shook her head and sighed.  Pretty ballsy of the gal since even Skye wouldn't willingly bring someone on board without clearance and given how he was tossed in that hold and kept hidden, the petty officer knew she was in the wrong.  She had to put those thoughts aside though because the stupidity that led to cruelty angered her entirely too much.

The rest of the story was just as sad and hearing that tone, begging her to say it was all a lie and insane, brought her chin down toward her chest as she crossed her arms.  "I'm afraid it's true," she said evenly though it broke her heart admitting such.  "We don't know who all is involved but there are people in strategic places who apparently aren't who they appear to be and somehow we have to find out the truth."

She almost turned to look at him, so he could see the honesty in her eyes, but she held her position.  "We're all fugitives, torn from everyone we've known and loved.  I'd only been assigned on Theurgy about a week before all hell broke loose and even then it was only a few weeks before another outbreak of fighting with Federation fighters separated me from Theurgy.  I couldn't go home so all I could do was try to find this ship ... my new home."

With a bit of trepidation, she broached another subject.  "You know you're going to have to tell who it was who brought you on board.  We all have to face the consequences of our actions and considering the condition I found you in ... it's only right."  Now that he was probably completely disillusioned, she turned but kept her eyes upward to search his.  "Her actions led to your unfair displacement and while I'm thrilled to meet you, I know it has to be incredibly hard on you being here."

"I am a prisoner here, then," he murmured, knowing even if those she spoke of would leave him be, the crew of the Theurgy could hardly risk letting him free.  Even if he promised to say nothing, he might let something slip of the ship's presence, of where it was or where it was going.  Or, worse come to worse, the impostors within the Federation might decide to torture whatever information from him, regardless of whether he knew something or not.  He could never go home, unless... he turned to face her, "What is being done about it?  Do any of you have even the slightest idea of how to retake the government?"

He thought for a moment, recalling the difficulties encountered during the Dominion invasion of Betazed.  It took only 10 hours for the Jem'Hadar battleships overcame the defenses of the planet.  He had been away from the planet at the time, but his mother had been in her beloved trees.  She'd remained there, but told him of the troubles of the people, how they'd had no choices, been given no option except surrender.  The Betazoid were a peaceful race, not given to fighting, but they'd rallied in the end, driving the Dominion from their world with a mental attack, something his mother had participated in.  Some kind of invasive telepathic attack, one his mother would not describe to him afterwards.  Many Betazoid died during the effort, the strain of it killing them.  It had stirred his Klingon side, pride in his people's strength and victory.

With a sigh, he began scrubbing once more, "Is there anything to even be done?  This is only a single ship and you do not even know the name of the enemy, unless I'm mistaken."

"I'm a prisoner here, then ..."  If he were keeping his senses open, he would feel the ache in her soul at his words and see it clearly as she stepped to the shower and placed her hands on the glass as she looked deeply into his eyes.  "We are all prisoners in a way," she stated.

"My father has been missing for a while now and I don't know if it's because of the enemy or something else.  I never really got to say goodbye to my mother because of the rush to get on board and situated ... don't even have most of my things because we had to fly before I could have them transported."

A rueful lopsided smile formed and she looked at the ceiling for a moment before stepping back to lean against the sink.  "You're alone ... I'm alone ... we're all alone out here," she said and something welled within her chest.  "But we're alone together and we'll find a way back.  Captain Ives will make sure."

"I'm just an ensign and a fighter pilot so I'm not in on the meetings where they discuss what we're going to do.  They say fight and I fight.  They say make repairs and I make repairs as best I can.  It may seem hopeless sometimes but if we start to believe it's hopeless, then it is and everyone is doomed."

Taking the towel and stuffing it against her stomach, she chewed on her bottom lip.  "I know it's a lot to ask but trust Captain Ives and this crew.  We're going to do everything we can to make things right and even though we're only one ship right now, I have to believe there will be others who feel like us."

He met her gaze and a bit of color drained from his face as he felt how much his words hurt her, felt the sympathy his statement caused within her.  When she turned to face him, he didn't turn away and made no attempt to hide his physique from her.  Instead, he reached out and touched her face, wanting to believe her, to accept that people he didn't know would fix what he found hard to believe.  To put trust in something and someone he didn't know, that was difficult for him.  Harder to still to bear was the loneliness she felt, something from her that called out to that part of him that felt the same and had for the last several months.  It made him want to take her in his arms and hold her, to chase the lack of a shadow away from them both, that darkness.  His gaze softened and he looked away, not wanting to take advantage of their situation for something meaningless and trivial, momentary.

Taking the towel, he again didn't turn away from her as he began drying himself off.  Much as he might have been used to sonic showers and the dryness of them, he had to admit the towel felt almost as good as the water, especially when combined with finally being clean.  It made him feel a bit less manly having used her scented soaps, but after the way he had smelled, it was a welcome improvement.  He tried to be unobtrusive in the way he watched her, wondering if she would turn away while he dried himself off, or if she couldn't resist a look or two.

When his hand touched her cheek, all the tough girl image faded and standing before him was simply a young woman struggling in a situation out of her control but doing her damnedest to make things right.  She believed in her captain and crew even if she didn't know most of them at all and the few she did not to a deep extent.  They were her family though and she would live or die with them but she longed for something she had never truly felt and despaired she never would.

In that moment of soft contact, she almost reached out for him but he'd been toyed with enough and given the extenuating circumstances she didn't want him to feel used and tossed aside.  She respected and admired him too much to give in to the urges she felt.  Yet her attraction to him was evident physically and psychically as her warm brown eyes held his gaze when he took the towel from her.  He wasn't shy per se but she felt like he was testing her.

She wanted to prove to him that she wouldn't take advantage, that she wished him to only feel comfortable and treated with respect around her no matter what the circumstances.  But she was a woman and when he stood there in front of her drying himself, she couldn't help but let her gaze drop slightly.  She only gazed at his torso, the lower parts covered by the towel, and it was only a quick glimpse but still a glimpse.  Her cheeks flushed, not a common reaction for her.

"I didn't mean to gawk ... I'm sorry," she said quietly and cleared her throat as she looked out the door to her room wondering if she should give him some space.  "I'm not sure what they'll have in the mess hall but they usually have something really good for dessert," she tried to distract even herself from the heavy feeling in the air.  Of all her randy encounters over the years, only one other had touched her deeper than the surface and in that one touch to her cheek she'd felt a rush without even a kiss.

He couldn't help but smile peacefully at her inner emotions and her beautiful brown eyes, so full of emotion and honest belief.  Her emotions were tangible in his mind, the hope in her superiors, the love for her crew.  They mixed with the loneliness and fear and made something else, something that made her stronger, gave her reason to get up everything morning.  At the moment, he had no such reason and being a gymnast would no longer be enough, not without the competition, the challenge of being not just his best, but the best of everyone.  He'd have to find something else, he realized.  Some other passion, but it could wait, for the moment.

Finished drying, he leaned past her to grab his clothing, not deliberately touching her, though he brushed against her for a moment.  He turned his back to her and pulled the pants on first, had to turn from her before saying, his skin reddening in a bit of thrill, from his chin down to mid chest, "You have my permission to gawk as much as you like."

At the mention of the mess hall, his stomach grumbled noisily and he pulled his shirt over his head before turning back to her.  A broad smile graced his lips and he asked, "Chocolate?  I've missed chocolate!"

The soap she used was a neutral scent, one that brought out a person's own scent rather than false flowers or substances.  When he leaned forward to gather his clothing, she would get a whiff of his definite manly scent and her eyes rolled back as he turned away and she held her breath to hold on to the aroma for just a little longer.

Letting out that breath very, very slowly ... and silently, her eyes dropped again from those broad shoulders to the narrow and powerful hips.  His ass was perfectly curved and toned making her fingers curl under the lip of the counter to keep her from grabbing that delectable derriere and a surprised coughing chuckle erupted when he gave permission followed by a mumbled "good thing."

Even as he turned to face her, the smile was there to greet him.  As delightfully uncomfortable as he could make her, there was something else that made her comfortable at the same time.  Yeah, too much time in the black most likely but it was a thrilling feeling.  "Aha!  Someone else with a deep love affair with chocolate I see.  Well let's get some shoes on you and see what we can find."

Stepping out into the hall, their shadows were still there and she sauntered past them with her arm through Scosche's to hopefully help him skirt past them with a little more ease though it was only part of the reason.  In the mess hall, she went to the replicator and paused.  He was Klingon and Betazoid but had traveled all over so she wasn't sure what particular foods to order.

It might help him feel a little more in control, she thought, if he were to place the order.  "Whatever you'd like, hopefully it will be able to replicate it for you and I'll have the same," she offered him and waited to see what he would order.  She was always willing to try new things but if he chose something very basic and homey, she was good for that as well.

He felt the heat of her desire within her and, as he settled his shoes on his feet, couldn't help but admire her own body, wondering what she might look like in the throes of passion.  Maybe he'd find out sometime, at least he hoped he would as his eyes followed her buttocks as they left her quarters.  Feeling more humane and more himself now that he'd bathed, he couldn't help but murmur, "That's not the only thing we both seem to have desires for."

Moving a step faster, he took his place at her side and slid his arm in her companionably, once again taking in what few details that he hadn't seen of the corridors his first time through.  As they walked, he was careful to avoid gazing at her too long, but couldn't help an occasional linger on her lovely face or her deep brown eyes.

The closer they drew to the mess hall, the more he could swear he smelled food and his stomach agreed with him, grumbling noisily.  As she walked him to the replicator, he thought for a moment about what he might like.  Ordinarily, when he was training, he would get something with a small portion of meat and a healthy side of vegetables.  Now, however, not having eaten properly for months, he felt a need to gorge himself.  It was hard to resist, though he reminded himself at the last moment that, should he do so, he would probably suffer for it later, his body unaccustomed to anything but the scant rations he'd had.  Finally, he settled for a vegetable stew and the largest chocolate sundae the machine could make.  He smiled at Skye as he waited for the hum of the machine, "I hope you won't think badly of my choice.  I have a definite craving topped with lots of chocolate."

"That's not the only thing we both seem to have desires for."  He seemed so sweet and yet had a simmering sexuality to him.  It was at that moment she realized that his Betazoid heritage was luring her and yet the power of his Klingon heritage was boiling just beneath the surface.  Andrus had been completely sensual and Isley powerful yet here was a man who encompassed both wonderful traits.  "Apparently not," she replied and licked her lips before turning her gaze back to the hallway.  It simply wouldn't do to run into a support beam like a school girl right then.

Glancing back at the guards, she felt the urge to tell them to run along and play somewhere else.  They'd put a tracker on him after all but she knew they wouldn't abandon their post until one of their superiors called them off.  So for now they would get to watch them eat dinner and continue with the lingering glances while the other wasn't looking.  Scosche was proving yet again that her call sign was appropriate, willing to shamelessly engage in more intimate maneuvers when opportunity knocked.  As far as she was concerned, he could knock her up against the wall anytime.

His order brought one of those more happy smiles and she was glad he wasn't going to glut himself sick.  She'd made that mistake herself and was waiting to see if she needed to suggest he start off a little slowly.  Every moment with him she found herself relaxing and falling into old habits, a bit of swagger in her step and heat in her gaze.  "How can I think badly of a choice like that?  It's good stuff though ... computer make my vegetable stew with beef."  One of her slow grins started with one corner of her mouth and then the other, a slight drop of one shoulder and hip backing her words.  "A girl can't get enough meat and chocolate," she winked.

 Unbidden, but not unwelcome, came the image dripping cooling chocolate on her naked body, followed swiftly by his tongue across her pale skin, of sucking each drop from her body as he... he stopped and shook his head.  As the thought crossed his mind, he'd not taken his eyes from hers and blushed at how his own desires must have been plainly obvious, even if her eyes were to remain on his and not drop down to how his pants had begun to tent.  With a blush, he turned away and coughed, clearing his throat from the sudden desire to taste her.

Gathering up his food, he stepped back and waited for her to gather her own before heading to an empty table.  As he was accustomed to, the conversation in the room seemed to slow, then stop as those around them realized who he was, their eyes falling on him, gawking.  He sighed inwardly, but outwardly did his best to ignore how uncomfortable it made him.  He'd never sought fame, only the competition, the desire to prove himself the best, but with that desire the fame came anyway.  There were a few faces he could see who looked at him with confusion, only to be informed of his history by their companions in hurried whispers.

Glancing at her, he tried to disregard the growing pressure on his mind, the curiosity to know him mingled with awe at his accomplishments and even a few minds that prickled with resentment.  Those he had wondered about before, how anger over what he'd made of himself burned in others, until he'd figured out they were jealous, knowing he'd done what they couldn't and never could.  Had he not actively tried to avoid such people, he might have told them fame and champion weren't all they were cracked up to be.  He wouldn't have changed his choices, granted, but he would still prefer being able to go somewhere, anywhere, without having a constant gaggle of fans, or the weighty eyes of bodyguards protecting him.  Though, maybe things would be different aboard the Theurgy, given they were all, more or less, in the same boat and his accomplishments meant little aboard a ship on the run.

Skye saw something going on behind those dark eyes and his embarrassed reaction, knowing she had gotten to him a little.  "Computer ... add some Kaeston bread," she requested.  It was something she remembered was native to Betazed and thought it might make him feel a little more welcome.  A quick glance downward brought a flash of a grin but around others she thought it might be best to not bring attention to that part of his body.  When she had her own food she walked in front of him to block anyone's view of his nether region, in a way trying to protect him as much as possible from prying eyes.

Those eyes seemed mostly only on his face and the realization of who he was, bringing out a lot of different reactions.  Some giggled and others did double takes.  A few looked rather pissed but one she remembered had made a pass at her that she declined rather rudely, justifiable though as he'd been rude first.  All in all, she figured he was feeling more than a little uncomfortable so broke off half of the bread and handed it to him.  "I don't know about you, but I love to dunk chunks of bread in the broth and this has the perfect texture," she proceeded to eat as if everything was normal, ignoring everyone else around them.

Of course their main interest, other than each other, was the decadent sundae with hot fudge, whipped cream, chopped peanuts, and a cherry on top.  If she thought it wouldn't melt too fast, she'd suggest they take them back to her place but it was far enough away they'd end up just drinking the concoction.  Plucking the cherry from the top, she slipped it past her lips and then licked her fingers with a definite air of pleasure that only increased as she spooned into the rest of the dessert.  "Oh hell I almost forgot how good this stuff is," she groaned and sat back with the dish in her hand as she scooped small bites, savoring the thick rich chocolate.

"In the morning I go on duty shift," she said conversationally but he could sense her concern for him and the feelings of loneliness he might have.  "Depending on everyone else ... security and captain or whoever ... do you think you'd like to hang out at the gym or something?  Maybe they'll assign someone who can show you around and get more comfortable here and when I'm off shift we can have dinner again."  In spite of the sexual tension, though that was certainly loads of fun too, she enjoyed the simple presence of his company.

"It is certainly one of the best breads of my planet," Scosche replied as he took his seat across from her.  He did as his mother had taught him and ate his soup, though she'd be sorely disappointed at the way he seemed to near enough inhale it.  It warmed him through and satisfied more than just hunger, filling him as though it were the finest foods of any gods, his or anyone else's.  As he set the bowl down, he barely covered his mouth in time to stifle the exhalation his stomach produced, though he still gave her an apologetic look.  Pushing the empty bowl aside, he eyed his dessert with eager purpose, though he hesitated as he pulled it in front of him.  Slowly, he drew the cherry from the top and, eyes meeting hers, swirled his tongue around the small red ball, before wrapping his lips around it and breaking it off from the stem.  His eyes fluttered as he chewed it slowly, savoring the taste and texture, the sweetness of it so far above that of the rations he'd had no choice but to eat for months.

He blinked at her for a moment, once more lost to the sensations that inundated him, realizing she'd been speaking.  With a nod, he managed to recall the barest whisper of what she spoke, "I would certainly enjoy using something more favorable than that which I was able to construct with my own hands.  Having some actual equipment to use would be... I need to regain my strength.  I would certainly enjoy dinner with you again, as I do this one."

Skye had actually eaten as quickly as he had and when he covered the belch, she almost informed him given enough carbonated beverage that she could burp the alphabet with the best of them.  Being around guys a lot, those kinds of things were the norm really.  Training at the academy usually had contests of who could outdo who though PJ had been Top Burper.

When he picked up the cherry and so erotically consumed it, she unconsciously crossed her legs.  There were places on her body she wouldn't mind that swirling tongue finding and she could just imagine how his lips tasted right then.  How she'd managed to continue talking about anything normal was beyond her and she wasn't about to second guess, happy she just didn't make a fool of herself.

"Once we get the holodecks going again, we can definitely get some proper equipment to use," she nodded and slowly bobbed the leg draped over the other.  "There's definitely weights, treadmills, and other stuff to help you get your strength back but don't overdo it at first and make sure you have a buddy to spot you.  I'd be glad to when not on duty ... and dinner tomorrow it is," she grinned.

She doubted they'd put him in the brig but even if they did she'd make sure she took dinner to him.  Her mind kept going over things he might be able to do though none of it was nearly as good as performing.  "I know you're sort of in limbo but is there anything besides gymnastics you really like to do?  Or would at least like to try?  If we have a few things ready, it might help you adjust quicker," she offered optimistically.

"I've never made use of a holodeck," he commented with a shrug.  He'd never had need of it, given his sport was only for one person.  Instead, he had learned to use the forests he mother had taken him to, driving himself from tree to tree, sometimes falling and breaking bones.  Still, he had learned and done better in each attempt.  And, even when he'd taken up competition, he'd always used the equipment provided at whatever arena he had been at.  He gathered a scoop of ice cream and nibbled at it, delighting in each small taste, the mix of chocolate upon chocolate consuming his attention.  It felt as though his whole being were absorbing each atom of the dessert.

Taking another spoonful, he smiled, "I will look forward to you joining me, then.  In the meantime, I will endeavor to keep my strength until you show."

He savored another bite, thinking over her questions as he enjoyed the creamy mix.  He had little other talents, save his gymnastics, having spent nearly every waking moment working towards the goal of the Olympics.  However, he had been schooled and was no fool.  Thinking a moment more, he sighed, "Unfortunately, no, very little.  The arena was all I thought about, even when I was schooled in other things.  If I had to give answer, I would say I learned science at my mother's side, specifically biology.  I know not whether such knowledge though would be of much use in our current situation.  What little I know surely is outweighed by those with actual schooling in such matters."

Watching him eat the ice cream, Skye could see his wheels turning to try to come up with something and found herself biting her tongue to keep from commenting on him needing to keep up his strength for her.  Ohhhh Skye, honey ... you can be so shameless sometimes but hot damn if he isn't more tempting than the sundae! she chastised herself mentally.

"Science and biology, hmmmmm," she mused as she turned the spoon upside down in her mouth and used the tip of her tongue to pry out some chocolate that had stuck to the bowl section.  "You might be able to help out with cataloging things in the science department or the hydroponics bay," she suggested with a wag of the spoon.  "Might not be exciting but definitely useful."

"Maybe once you have your strength up you could be a personal trainer or something in the fitness area.  If we work on your fighting skills, you could even apply for something in security eventually."  Setting down her empty dish, she had a bit of a frown.  "I know it's going to seem like things take forever but we'll figure something out and I think as long as you're able to continue training and doing what you love that everything'll turn out fine."

"I... I have little desire to fight," Scosche confessed, looking down at his sundae.  It embarrassed him, the fact that, unlike his father and much to his father's disappointment, being a warrior held little interest for him.  Not that he didn't feel the urge to fight nor the desire to please his father, but he felt it every time he caused pain, the sudden surge of emotion in whomever he happened to have been swinging at, at the time.  It was almost a physical pain to himself when he hurt someone else and he had no hunger for hurting himself.  He had taken up gymnastics as a way to still be a champion, but not be directly in competition with anyone, at least not one on one.  It had made his father roar in anger whenever the man had tried to teach him his Klingon heritage, the way he cringed away from hurting anything placed before him.  Even now, he wondered if it had been one of the reasons his father had left.

He cleared his throat and took another swallow of ice cream, not looking up at her.  She was a fighter, obviously, and he had no way of knowing how she would respond to his self-imposed pacifism.  There was nothing wrong in fighting to defend one's self, family or people, or so he'd always thought, it was simply something he found difficult to do himself.  The cause, whatever it might be, would have to outweigh the pain he would cause, both to his target and, by reflection, to his own mind.

With a nod, he pushed the half-finished dessert away, "Whatever else might happen, there would be little point in continuing a training for a goal that no longer exists.  Even if I were to return to the Federation today, without being pursued by your mysterious enemy, I am no longer ready for the Olympics next year and doubt I would be able to regain the proper physiology by then.  I might be ready for the next one, in 5 years, but even that is uncertain, given you, nor your superiors, cannot offer assurance that we'll be returned home by then.

She might not be an empath or a counselor, but she could understand his feelings.  It was obvious given his two heritages how conflicted he must be and when he pushed away the dessert, he could feel her hurting for him even before she reached out and took his hand.  "I'm trained and I'll fight to the death if necessary, but it's not something I truly enjoy ... unless the guy I'm punching was a total jerk and deserved it," she gave a half-smile trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"I can't begin to know how you're feeling and believe me I wish I could watch you in the next Olympics, but you are so much more than a gymnast.  You just haven't found you yet is all."  He needed a goal, something to look forward to and to offer him direction and there was determination in her to help him find just that.  "You may think it's senseless to train and get back to competitive strength, but I disagree.  The sooner you feel more like yourself, the easier it will be to expand your horizons."

With that little smirk, she turned her attention to the half-eaten sundae.  "You realize if you don't eat that, I will, and then I'll have to find a good way to work off the calories," she stated with a mischievous grin.  "Otherwise I won't fit into my flight suit and end up grounded and trust me ... when I'm bored, it's not a good thing.  Too much time on my hands usually lends to all sorts of havoc.  So," she propped her elbow on the table and put her chin in her hand, "are you going to save the crew from me?"

It was a struggle to push past the depression that felt comfortable, that had been most of his existence the last few months.  He hadn't only been locked up in body, but in mind as well, never knowing if he might be captured, tortured, killed or if the nightmare might end and he be able to return to his life.  As she gripped his hand, he clung to it with... he dared not hope, not yet, not until he'd met with whoever would next decide his nebulous fate.  But, he might imagine that there might be hope yet in his future.  Recovery, it seemed, was not to be had in a day or hour.  Still, he squeezed her hand and nodded at the ice cream, "I would have you bored, with me as your soul target for relieving it."

Lifting his gaze, he smiled gently, though his eyes bore the heat his words carried, "I can imagine a few good ways to do away with pesky calories, most, however, would not be meant for public display."

He had almost forgotten the guards by now, but mention of having privacy brought them back and he turned his head, looking at one, then the other quickly.  With a sigh, he pushed the ice cream further away, "I, however, cannot eat more and so would welcome you to it.  Better it be enjoyed than fall to waste.  If we are to work off those calories, I would much prefer it be without audience."

"I would have you bored, with me as your soul target for relieving it."

Skye's eyes were already on his face but he could feel the passion rage up within her, see the dilation of her pupils and a slight sucking in of her cheeks as her lips pursed as a particular scene of a movie from ancient times replayed in her mind.


[glow=red,2,300]Suzanne Dorn: You mind if I join you?

Rick Vaughn: I don't think I'd be very good company right now.

Suzanne Dorn: Why not?

Rick Vaughn: Nothing. Job. I'm a ballplayer.

Suzanne Dorn: I know. But that's not why I came over here. I don't chase ballplayers.

Rick Vaughn: Why'd you come over here then?

Suzanne Dorn: Because you are the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on, and you look like you could use a friend.

Rick Vaughn: Check?

~Quote from Major League~
[/glow]


"I can imagine a few good ways to do away with pesky calories, most, however, would not be meant for public display."

Slowly Skye reached for the dish of unfinished ice cream but still holding his hand started to rise from her chair.  "Check?" her lips echoed the memory and obviously didn't give a shit about anyone's thoughts as she led him right out of the mess hall, leaving the guards to hurry along at their convenience.  To hell with them, she thought as she pulled his arm around her so she could lean in and eat the ice cream on the way back to her room.  The entire way he could feel her simmering desire.

"Buckle up boys, it's going to be a bumpy ride," she said for the guard's benefits as the door shut and left them outside and just her and Scosche inside.  Setting the dish down, she rounded on the gymnast and pulled his face down until her lips were almost on his.  "Gentle Betazoid or Rough Klingon ... your choice but make it fast," she growled at him and remained poised to strike.

At first, he was surprised by her actions, the pull of him by her hand.  It was unexpected, especially for a woman he'd known for such a short time.  While not entirely unfamiliar with women, and though he did recognize the way her eyes changed and her breath came differently, he hadn't expected her to move quite so expediently.  He blinked at the word she used, having no clue what a check might be.

As they entered the turbolift, followed by the security guards, he couldn't be as free as he wanted, not comfortable wrapping his arms entirely around her, but he did so anyway.  He tensed, though, as the guards eyed him, and he wondered if there was some kind of jealousy on their parts.  The heat from her, the obvious desire, made him hard, which she could no doubt feel as she pressed back against him.  As the lift came to a stop, he leaned his head down and whispered in her ear, "You're beautiful."

Being dragged to her quarters, as though they were young children off to play, made him laugh.  As she pulled him in, he kept his eyes off the guards and, as soon as the doors closed, he met her as she turned to him, pulling her close, his entire body bending down to suck on her lips, groaning at the taste of chocolate and ice cream and her.  He growled, a very Klingon sound, as he found some of his strength put to use, ripping her shirt down her back, his large hands sliding beneath to kneading her smooth, soft back, her silken skin making him all the more hungry for her.

There was a definite feeling of giddiness, of being so completely naughty that it was like ejecting from an old plane and free falling.  The only difference was with that you usually had a parachute and Skye didn't intend to slow down until they both crashed.  A wicked smile grew as she felt his rigid member poking her backside and when the blonde looked at her, she winked and ran her tongue around the edge of the spoon while the dark haired guy scowled.

Being called beautiful touched her though, the way he said it at least made her actually feel beautiful.  There were many other women much more beautiful and she was typically classified a handsome woman because of her strong jaw and features.  His sweetness earned him a surreptitious booty rub, just enough to ensure he stayed hard until they got to her room.  She wished she had more to offer him, a nice suite and tub but for now she was just an ensign.

His lips were just like she imagined, firm and practiced setting off electrical shocks but the real kicker was when he literally ripped the shirt off her back.  She gasped in surprise but he could sense the euphoria already beginning in her.  "Oh this is gonna be good," she said in a voice somewhere between a growl and a purr.  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kicked off her shoes and then let go long enough to start ridding him of his nice new clothes though much more carefully.

Clothes flew everywhere until both were bare, skin slipping against skin, and Skye literally climbing up his body to lock her legs around his hips as she buried both hands in his hair.  It was hard to say who was devouring who but there was a definite love of chocolate leading to them licking and sucking every last bit off of each others' lips and tongues.  "Don't worry about me," she whispered huskily as she leaned back out of the kiss long enough for a good breath.  "I won't break."

It had been a long time since a woman had said that to him and it caused him to wonder how much experience she had with Klingons in bed.  Not that he was a typical Klingon in that respect, though he had been known to give as good as he got, but he did not feel, as some Klingons seemed to, that sex was about domination and required the shedding of blood. So long as it was immensely pleasurable for them both, what did it matter whether blood was involved or not?

He held her up by her buttocks, keeping her firmly planted against his abdomen, his long, hard cock waving back and forth between her thighs, occasionally making contact with her nether lips.  Already, fluids leaked from his tip and he felt his heartbeat treble in his chest.  Gripping her by her arm pits, he maneuvered her back to the small dining table and set her down on it, stepping out of his pants as he did, leaving him tall, muscled and entirely naked as he bent over and, mouth open wide, engulfed a good portion of her left breast between his lips, tongue working slowly back and forth over the hard tip.  His hands moved between her thighs and spread her wider, massaging her thighs, his left sliding down her right leg, caressing her silken skin, kneading toned muscle beneath.  Moving his right hand, he slid his fingers up into her golden hair, gripping tightly then releasing, his hunger for her growing with each second, each movement and touch.

Skye gave every impression she was definitely enjoying him and he could sense she liked it rough though harbored an awe of the more sensual ways, something of a treat like the sundae had been.  Sex for her was something wild and free.  No holds barred was what he was getting the most at that point, especially when she could feel the trail of moisture streak her lightly rippled abdomen as he pulled her up so easily and plopped her ass on the table.

A very dirty sounding chuckle erupted as he leaned down and almost inhaled her breast, a light shudder and groan of delight her response to his tongue brushing along her nipple.  Strong hands gripped her thighs and then parted them more, the sensation forcing her eyes closed as part of her longed for him to just plunge right in because she was more than ready for him.  Her entire body tensed in anticipation as he caressed her.

It was when he grabbed her by the hair though that a feral smile formed.  "Oooo I like," she purred and reached for his hips, letting her short nails press firmly into his flesh though not enough to bring blood.  She seemed quite like minded with him regarding blood-letting, that it wasn't necessary but so be it if it happened.  There was such a sweet gentleness normally about his lips and eyes but right now that was vacillating with a harsher needful look.

Even in his weakened state, she had felt nearly light as a feather in his arms.  It gave him some hope that, in a yet uncertain future, he might regain what he'd lost, at least physically.  Right now, however, he pushed all thought but her out of his head, focusing his abilities on detecting which of his actions brought the greatest pleasure to her.  He groaned at the way she reacted to his hand in her hair and gathered it up again, his lips moving up to her neck, biting gently at the silken skin there.  With his left hand, he reached between them and caressed her labia, ensuring she was slick enough for him to enter.  Satisfied, he took hold of himself and, with only a slight amount of effort, found her entrance. 

For a moment, he hesitated, pulling his head back to look down at her, meeting her eyes and letting her see the hunger and need he held for her.  Standing upright, he took in the length of her body, her full, firm breast, her taut stomach.  He couldn't resist, as his gaze fell on her belly button and circled it with his thumb, before sliding his hand between her lower back and the table.  Pushing the crown of his staff between her labia, he returned his eyes to hers and, without preamble, gave a quick jab of his hips, sinking as much of his length as he could into her, grunting animalistically at the sudden wet, tight, warmth around him.

A lewd curl of one corner of her mouth formed as he groaned and grabbed her by the hair again, pulling her head back to bare her throat to him and bringing out a groan of her own as he did a little more than nipping the flesh.  Her hands smoothed up his arms and then her fingers dug into his biceps as he touched between her legs, teasing along slit which made her moan even more turning into soft pants of anticipation as the tip of his impressive cock touched her velvety lips.

He paused though, his expression setting her on fire seeing her own need mirrored in his eyes.  One hand reached up and cupped his neck while the other slid down his chest to curve around his waist then she invited him in with a smile and tilt of her hips that brushed her nether lips along the flaring head.  Then he stood and gazed upon her, eliciting an even stronger response within her as he caressed around her navel.  It was such a tender gesture amidst the more primal acts and led to the ultimate instinct.

With a speed she knew he had but hadn't expected in that moment, he plunged forward and spread her hot, slick walls out in every direction only to snap back and hug him tight.  Her own grunt joined his a fraction later and she nearly lifted herself off the table, the strength of her arms supported by his neck and side bulging in a knee-jerk reaction to the penetration.  "Fuck yeah," she snarled and forced herself to let go enough to settle back down on the table.  "You nailed that landing," she said with a shiver of delight.

"I always do," he answered huskily, referencing his gymnastics, as well as the pleasure he knew he'd brought her.  It was one of the few results of his Betazoid heritage he enjoyed, and certainly the best of those few, the ability to sense what pleased his lovers, not that he'd had more than he could count on one hand.  Still, he'd always enjoyed the sense of power that came with being able to tune his well-trained body to another's, to know that a specific twist of his hips, swirl of his tongue or, in Skye's case, a hand in her hair ushered in even greater peaks of ecstasy.

Slowly, as she stretched out on the table beneath him, he started a withdrawal of his erection, now shiny with her secretions, before jabbing back in, a pace he kept up for a few minutes.  Even now, his stamina was above average, but he knew he couldn't last for very long, weakened as he was and it having been a while since enjoying a woman's body.  He couldn't imagine, however, enjoying a woman more than he was right now and arched his long back, bringing his head down to her nipple, taking the hard point between his lips and tugging, only barely biting down with his teeth.  His right hand continued to hold her head back, fingers entwined in her hair, his left strode down her right side, caressing her, feeling her soft skin, over her hip and to her thigh, massaging her strong muscles.

"Mmmmmmmgoodtoknow," she moaned as he withdrew and thrust back in rather quickly, causing a light huff and dirty chuckle.  They both knew he wasn't at his best and she fully intended to help him get back in shape because already he had her dancing near the edge.  Her own appetite was quite large but she would try to ensure she didn't wear him out too much for now.

Laying there she reveled in the feel of his teeth on her sensitive nubs, deep inhales followed by sighing exhales sounding loud in the small area.  Her nails scrabbled firmly along the flesh of his shoulders and back as her heels rested on his perfect ass though she did graze those nails along his ribs on occasion.  Keeping her hips tilted down at a slight angle, he continually grazed that hard shaft along her clit giving them both that not so little added extra pleasure.

Even as he felt his peak rising quickly, he knew his body would soon be at the end of its strength, at least for a few minutes.  It dismayed him slightly to realize how much his time in the cargo hold had affected him, despite the intense training he'd attempted to keep up.  Little held your body in check the way competition did, even if it was against oneself, but there had only been so much he'd been able to do in the tight quarters.

With a pop, he pulled his lips from her teat and bared his teeth down at her, his hips near to slamming now, though there was at least a bit of surprise that he hadn't pushed her completely over the edge of the table yet.  The wet sound of their groins meeting rose to his ears and filled the room, making him wonder if the guards outside could hear them, as well.  If so, let them be damned for not being allowed the pleasure he was feeling now.  Leaning down again, this time he caught her mouth with his own and thrust his tongue possessively between her lips, as though he would catch the very breath from her lungs.  His large hands, one in her hair, the other beneath her back, forced her ever harder against him, until his erection seemed to swell and, finally, with a throaty yell, he released within her, pushing his hips fully against hers until he felt the tip of his erection pressing against her cervix.  He knew she was a professional pilot and imagined, like most women he'd met, that she was on at least some form of birth control and, thus, gave no thought to filling her with his seed.

Skye liked being pushed to the point of pain and his grip in her hair and literal slamming into her with his meaty cock was enough to bring her quickly to that point with him.  There was no thought spared for the guards outside, no thought of anything but this man with her.

When he bared his teeth at her, she mirrored him with a feral growl and sank her nails into his shoulder she was holding to keep from sliding across the table.  Hearing a bit of a cracking sound, there was a momentary worry it would break and they would fall to the floor but then he arrived.

His bellow was joined with her own as she leaned forward and bit his chest, the blood on her tongue tasting sweet as he ground and pumped her full of his seed.  When finally she was able to see again, she pulled back and licked her ilps clean.  "I can hardly wait to build back your stamina," she grinned wickedly.

Keeping him firmly buried within her, she embraced him in a more loving fashion.  "Whether Betazoid or Klingon, you are always most welcome," she purred and nuzzled his neck.  "Think you can carry me to bed ... let us rest a bit?" she chuckled lustily.  She wouldn't wear him out this time at least.

Almost immediately, he seemed to come again, as her teeth sank into his flesh.  He barely felt any of the pain and only the pleasure, but even so he could tell it was probably deeper than any other bite he'd ever received while having sex.  She very obviously was stronger than most women her size, with the way she'd taken him and her methods.  That she'd enjoyed the pain as much as he had was incredible to him, but there was no doubt she had, not with the way he touched her confirming his desires.  He managed to pick up the sound of cracking a moment before he rested his wait on her and pulled away, his glistening erection sliding out of her with an audible pop.  He closed his eyes for a moment, catching his breath and when she spoke, he opened them again and gazed down at her, "I'm starting to wonder if you might actually be able to handle all of me when I do.  There are very few females outside of Klingon space who can."

Moving to her right side, he slid one arm beneath her legs and the other along her upper back, easily lifting her, though he knew he wouldn't be able to for long.  Already he could feel exhaustion sinking in and was relieved it was only a few short feet to the bed.  Laying her down, he pulled the blanket back and wrapped it around her before laying at her side, "Can I assume by the always welcome part that you wouldn't mind me sharing your... well, your quarters again?  I would say your bed, but we really didn't make it that far."

Gazing up at him, there was amusement in her expression though still a bit of a lustful haze.  "If I pop something out of joint, just snap it back in place.  If it breaks, there's always the doc.  Old Earth expression ... no pain, no gain," she replied.

There was a moment of concern when he lifted her easily but seemed to sag a little halfway to the bed.  As they lay there, she placed her hand on his chest and looked down at him.  "You need to rest and I promise I won't molest you," she said with a grin but he would be able to sense her real concern for him.

A tender expression took over when he asked if he could join with her again.  "You are welcome here, whether it's the bed or table or floor, yes.  Who knows though, you will probably get better quarters and I hope I can visit with you there too."

Brushing the hair off his forehead, her fingertips caressed along the brow ridges.  "I will never hold you back or imprison you in any way.  As soon as the captain clears you, I hope you'll get out and meet people so you won't feel so alone like you did before.  You're too special to keep hidden away,' she said with a sweet kiss.

It horrified him just a bit when she mentioned popping things and breaking bones.  He'd never wanted to hurt anyone in his life... well, at least, most of the time.  He'd spent a lot of time working through his Klingon need for blood, or so he thought.  But... he couldn't deny there was a part of him that growled hungrily to explore sex as a Klingon would, with the biting and fighting and as rough as they both could be.  It appealed to him in a way that surprised him, never having previously met a woman, human or otherwise, who was willing to even try.  As her words sank in, followed by her kiss, he met it gently for a few moments, then slid his hand into her hair once more, pressing her lips tighter against his own, as his once-dwindling erection grew back to full.  He wondered if he had the strength for anything exhausting and doubted it, so it'd have to wait, but he could certainly please her, and himself, at least once more.

Though she didn't have his Betazoid abilities, she could pretty much tell what he was thinking just by his expressions.  That look of shock when she'd spoken of dislocations and breaking of bones turning into one of possibilities brought a hint of a smirk.  Perhaps the holodeck would be an appropriate place for them so they could break things without worry.

When he returned the kiss, she was surprised but pleasantly so when he deepened it and stirred erect again.  "Now how did you know I love seconds?" she teased lustily and before he could blink she was straddling him, her fingertips pressing firmly into his chest as she leaned forward to lip his earlobe.  "You did all the work last time so now it's my turn," she purred and nipped at his neck.

Her body teased his, lips and tongue dancing along his and hands roaming his torso.  His member was being teased as well, that firm backside rubbing its length as she worked her hips up and down.  She wasn't cruel though, eventually easing herself up and then essentially dropping herself down on him.  He was buried completely within her and she shimmied with pleasure, a feral growl flowing past pursed lips.

"Who doesn't," Scosche answered, grinning boyishly up at her, delighted that she shared his growing passion.  He wouldn't have pressed on for a second go, being too much of a gentleman for that, but her own desires matched his own and, after a moment's thoughts, perhaps exceeded them.  She was certainly unlike most women he'd met and well above them, just from understanding the needs of his Klingon side.  He'd only experimented with one other woman and had never seen or heard from her again, not that he blamed her.  When she'd left, she'd born the wounds of the hardest sex he, and she, had ever had.

For the moment, he was content to let her lead, to take charge, but knew he would want to be male.  Still, he groined at the feel of her, and his breath stopped for a moment as she seated him deep within.  Her tightness was exquisite and everything he could hope for in a lover, and judging from her mental responses, she felt the same of him, the fact of which made him groan again with increased pleasure.  He'd always felt more masculine knowing the pleasure he brought to those he shared a bed with.

Fully seated, he quivered in reaction to her movements and thrust up with his hips, knowing he couldn't get any deeper, but it allowed him room to withdraw enough to thrust again.  His growl matched hers as he slid into her once more.  His hands slid up her thighs and grasped her hips, pulling her down as he pushed up, the action setting the entire bed beneath them to thudding into the wall.

"Only those who don't enjoy the firsts," Skye chuckled richly and gave him a saucy wink.  "I did promise not to molest you but I seem to be breaking that promise.  Better be careful or there'll be thirds and midnight snacks, waking early for breakfast ..." she teased him lustily.

Apparently he had just enough breather to give some back and her nails dug into his sides along his ribs when he thrust up into her.  She should have known he'd need to still take charge a little and sent a little mental thank you for going to look for that material in the cargo hold.

Whether she was on top or bottom, there was just something about a man taking her by the hips and slamming into her.  With his guidance, she rose until he nearly popped out of her and then dropped back down as he thrust up into her.  Along with the thuds of the bed, her voice could be heard in soft growls of pleasure.

Over and over she moved along him, rising up to fully impale herself on him.  Every slam jarred her breasts until she took hold of them, squeezing them and tugging at her engorged nipples.  Her strong thighs continued to ripple with motion as she let go completely, intent to please the man below her.

So many sensations filled him, everything driving him to thrust harder and pull her down with all his strength.  More than just being alone all those months made him want to please her.  With every determined push of his hips upward, he sought to fill her with his length.  Groaning, he sat up, taking a nipple between his teeth and biting down, trying to temper his desire to draw blood with her pleasure.  He desired to see her come again, to feel her tight sheath ripple orgasmically around his plunging staff, her skin grow rosy as her blood rushed through her.  That moment would come, he knew, when everything faded to nothingness, when all that mattered was the explosions of ecstasy drove away all thought and circumstance.  What she would allow and wouldn't. could wait until he was better able to assess them, and right now, it was enough to be with her.

Soon enough, his motions became erratic, his hips hunching and his breath hitching as he felt his release approaching rapidly.  Pulling back from her breast, he leaned his head back and growled, doing his best to hold off until he felt her readiness.  If he had to be stuck on this ship, being with this woman would make it worthwhile and he could only hope she would feel the same, especially if they tried to utilize his more ferocious side during sex.

Things were getting a bit wild and Skye could feel her hair flinging about with every impact but there was only a lusty chuckle as he sat up and sucked hard on her nipple.  "Ooooo that's nice," she growled and sank her nails into his shoulders as she dropped herself down hard on his shaft.

He could sense her definite pleasure, taking the bit of pain as simply part and parcel then reveling in all the sensations.  Over and over she felt herself slammed upward and the grinding of their bodies bringing her rapidly to that end they both desired.  "Harder," she 'commanded' and then felt the tightening.

Soon his motions became less focused but no less wonderful and she leaned her head back, unabashedly moaning in ecstasy though the sound was almost like hiccups as her hips slammed down repeatedly before finally a low snarl issued as she ground herself against him for that last little extra as he filled her again.

Holding him close with his cheek against her breast, Skye caught her breath and then kissed the top of his head before pushing him to lay back on the bed.  "You are entirely too delicious for your own good," she murmured and appealed to his Betazoid side as her lips lightly danced around his chest, shoulders, and neck.

"And you are more woman than most," he answered, his voice soft as he stirred beneath her kisses.  Even as he grew soft within her, he knew, if she wanted to, he could probably get it up once more, despite the rest of him groaning at the exertion he knew it would be.  Worth it?  Definitely, but sleep beckoned to him.  As her lips danced across his skin, his hands brushed up and down her back, fingers deftly kneading her flesh.  There was more to her than great sex, though and, although tired, he wanted to know that, as well.  With a sudden roll, he lay atop her, one leg between hers as he looked down at her, "Do you ever just talk to your lovers?  Not that there should be much of it, given how good you are at it, but I've only known you a short time and there's so much about you I don't know, while you know probably everything about me... at least what's been publicized, which leaves little else."

Interspersed with his words were occasional kisses, his turn to enjoy the taste of her flesh as his lips touched her clavicle, then traced along her neck.  His right hand massaged her side, moving up to cup a breast and tease a nipple between his slender fingers, before traveling down her arm and entwining his fingers with hers.

Skye was prepared for him to sleep soon, was deliberately trying to do soothing things to him so he would get the rest he needed so desperately.  He surprised her though by rolling her over and actually wanting to talk.  A rueful expression crept up and she actually chuckled.  "I do like to talk actually but I was more worried about you getting some sleep."

This was something she did enjoy, the soft touches that didn't have to lead to anything yet comforted both lovers.  "I have to admit I didn't read everything, just mostly watched your performances for the simple enjoyment.  Every dismount would have me holding my breath and then I'd cheer when you nailed the landings.  I know that you're part Betazoid and Klingon but other than that I didn't worry about so you don't have to worry about a creepy stalker gal who knows every tidbit of your life," she said as her palms smoothed up and down his back.

"As for me, I'm a pilot from Earth .. Colorado to be precise.  My mother does some survival training and a lot of mountain climbing, taking groups up for guided tours.  Dad ..."  she paused then and he could sense some hurt and worry.  "Dad was a pilot, one of the best in Starfleet.  He and Mom didn't marry because she didn't want to be a Starfleet wife.  He'd come for visits when I was little but then he was too busy or we couldn't work our schedules out together ... then a few years ago he just disappeared.  No one knows anything."

"I lost my Dad, too, when I was young.  Though, it wasn't a disappearance that took him, so much as his desire for blood and battle," Scosche admitted, taking a moment here and there to nip lightly at her skin, sucking the sweat from her with pursed lips.  He enjoyed her fit body lying beneath his, savored the feel of contentment his actions brought her.  He tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, the pain of a little boy losing his father, and was mostly successful, "He wanted to fight, prove his loyalty to the Klingon Empire, as though there was honor in taking the life of another simply because it is there to take."

He sighed, "I grew up with my mother, who encouraged me to compete, but not become violent about it.  That's why my events are always ones where there's only me in the arena at the time.  I tried track once but... let's just say it didn't end well for anyone.  The rings, though... now, there's something I can excel at, without having to worry about someone being across from me, someone to focus my emotions on, my anger.  There's only me."

As he imagined being suspended in mid-air, his blood pumping, emotions raging, released from the cage within, his fingers entwined with hers, squeezing tighter.  He closed his eyes and recalled how it was to challenge himself up there, to feel wholly alive, without restraint on the half of himself he usually denied.  He growled in his chest at the animalistic emotions, "Things seem easier up there.  No worries, no concerns, nothing but me and those rings or that bar."

His father would have understood his words, would have recognized that, even though Scosche didn't want to be Klingon, that he was one nonetheless.  The way he moved and swung and twirled, each movement a mimic of a battle move, something never learned, but instinctively acted out.  Even without meaning to, Scosche had honed his body to a razor's edge and only a lack of training made him less than a warrior.

The woman in her ached seeing him trying to hide that pain and the hand he wasn't already holding lift to his face, the backs of her fingers drawing softly along his jawline in a sweet way.  "Duty and honor," she breathed and nuzzled into his hair even as he nuzzled against her collar bone.  "Things to believe in and do your best to uphold but there's always a price isn't there?" she murmured.

"It kept my father away though admittedly it was mostly my mother's fault as she could have gone with him.  I love them both deeply ... but resent them both too.  They kept to their own honor and duty but it left me sort of stranded, hanging in limbo," she admitted.  "Mom did all she could though to try to make up for it and she taught me a lot, gave me her time and support."

As he spoke of being on the rings and started to clench her hand, a soft smile formed when he spoke of things being easier.  "It's like me and flying.  There's a sense of freedom you don't get anywhere else, where you and you alone can do anything and the rush of speed is like good sex," she chuckled and pressed her lips to his browridges.  "We'll get you a proper set of rings and bar, I promise," she whispered.

"That would be nice," he replied, sighing as he slid to her side and settled in against her, his cheek resting on her upper breast.  It had been an eventful day, to say the least and came as a culmination to an even more stressful time in his life.  While never stress free, his life had certainly never had the anxieties of the last few months.  And, tomorrow promised nothing better, aside from Skye's company; after all, he still had to face the captain of the ship and explain his presence. 

And, what of the woman who had smuggled him aboard?  Did he give her up?  Certainly, he had no reason to be loyal to her, given they'd barely known each other and his isolation was due to her actions.  Still, it would mean trouble for her and he'd never been one to turn someone over, just to save his own skin.

Turning his head, he looked up at Skye sleepily, despite how his mind raced, "What would you do to someone if they'd basically trapped you somewhere for months on end, with no end in sight?  Minimal food, water, very limited access to bathroom facilities.  No other point of contact or reference with the outside world.  No night or day, just get up when you're awake and sleep when you're tired.  I guess I should be thankful I at least had control over the lights.  Let me tell you, though, it took me a few days to navigate back to my pallet to go to sleep.  Left me with a few stubbed toes, too."

Scooting over to allow him room, Skye kept him in her embrace as he rested his head on her breast.  Her fingertips continued to caress along his back and arm, the gesture sensual but geared more toward soothing.  It brought back the memory of Andrus doing the same to her, holding her as she faced some of her own demons.

He was quiet for a while and she was content to lay there snuggled up together but she could tell his mind was working, trying to come to terms with a lot of shit that happened in such a short time.  He was vulnerable, probably more vulnerable right now than he had ever been which brought out the protector in Skye.

Glancing down into his face as he shifted, the look on his face as he asked what she would do in his position melted her heart.  "Oh Scosche," she whispered with deep emotion and leaned in to kiss him tenderly and then held him tightly.  "I know what that isolation feels like but I have no name to put to my torment."

Her hand rested on his cheek and her eyes closed a moment.  "I can be a real bitch sometimes but what that woman did to you makes my blood boil, want to find her and leave her somewhere hellish ... after I beat her half to death.  She was selfish and abusive beyond redemption and deserves to be punished for her crimes."

There was a moment she was silent and then she shook her head.  "From what I've heard, there were a few casualties over the infection so she might be in stasis or even dead which might account for her not coming back but the fact remains she imprisoned you, went against everything Starfleet teaches."

"People deserve respect until they prove otherwise and even then we are not to treat them with cruelty.  You are not only talented but you're one of the nicest people I've ever met and there's no excuse for what she did to you.  I believe you should tell the captain everything, including this woman's name so justice can be served."

Skye knew she wasn't perfect, that she didn't always show the proper respect at times but she was horrified knowing what had happened to this incredible man who was the perfect blend of Betazoid and Klingon even if he didn't let the latter loose too much yet.  "You deserve so much better," she murmured and stuffed a certain feeling in her chest back, knowing he would find better elsewhere.

He listened to her speak and felt the pangs of pain at certain points, knew better than to mention or ask about them, especially from someone he'd really only met a few hours ago.  Not that they hadn't just been incredibly intimate for near strangers, but emotions were tricky, something he'd found out growing up.  It made them harder to deal with, not being a full Betazoid, since he didn't know the accompanying thoughts and how they interacted in her mind.  He could guess at some, possibly the loss of a lover leaving her feeling alone, hence the sympathy for his own enforced isolation, but that was her secret, her own pain to bear and not one he could just come out and ask about, not that feeling her own pain didn't hurt him some.  And, while, the future between them might be different, given the way she seemed to understand him, but for now they were still mostly strangers.  Still, sometimes, it amazed him that the most beautiful of people could be the ones who were hurt the most.

Turning his head, he kissed the line of her jaw, his hands moving to match hers in their intent, comfort with just a touch of sensuality, feeling better for having spoken and been heard and wanting to return the feeling.  He felt something, just a tiny thing, but it was gone to quickly for him to be sure and he blinked up at her for a moment, uncertainly.  He decided it was another secret and something he shouldn't pry into, not now.  In the meantime, he nodded, "I will, then.  If she's dead, then so be it, but she needs to know what she did, how she behaved, was not how civilized people should."

Meeting her eyes, he gave her a serious look, "And, I think I found better already."

Skye found herself completely lost in Scosche's eyes, not just for lustful reasons though.  She admired his thoughts and caring demeanor, how he listened and seemed to really understand.  They had just met but already she knew she was in trouble with this one.  She'd always kept things light and casual, some of her lovers even still a friend.  Andrus had brought her a sense of peace and she could have stayed with him but ultimately she knew he was too peaceful.  Scoshe somehow melded war and peace and he drew her like no other ever had.

Those kisses and touches continued, warming her all the way to her toes.  Yeah, she was in trouble for sure though this was the kind of trouble she liked.  When he said he would tell the captain the name of his captor, he could see and feel the relief flood through her and no small amount of pride in him.  It was a huge step for him to do so but one she knew was important for him to start taking back what was rightfully his ... pride and good sense of self.  She felt honored to be with him, to be able to help him with all this and not just because he was a celebrity.  She embraced all of him.

As she continued to swim in his gaze, she could see the seriousness rise and when he spoke again she thought she'd never breathe again and that would be okay.  In those seven words, she felt something inside of her crack and gape open.  Now she was in more trouble than she could get out of and yet she couldn't trust herself just yet.  It was too soon for these kind of feelings ... wasn't it?  Her lips pressed against his, tender and loving.  Her promise had been made to not trap him and she would keep her word.  He was free to choose but she would never tell him no.

He returned her kiss and held her close, finally starting to drift off to sleep, awash in his own contentment, as well as the intensity of her feelings.  He enjoyed them, wanted them more than he could say, but a part of him held back, kept himself separate.  What if she turned out to be like the last one, imprisoning him and locking him away?  He doubted she was like that, but the thought still lingered.  Her eyes, though, there was a depth to them, an honor in them, that almost made him hate himself just for thinking like that about her, as though she might become dirty just from the thought. 

He sighed as he curled up against her, one leg thrown over hers, he softened member pressed against her hip and remembered how she'd looked as she came, flushed skin and strained muscles, possibly the most erotic image he could recall.  It brought a gentle smile to his lips and he touched his lips lightly to the upper slope of her breast.  For the moment, he wanted nothing more than to luxuriate here with her, to push off the thoughts about tomorrow and what it would bring. 

Imaginably, the captain would not be happy to see him, and, though he didn't think it likely, knew the captain would certainly have the authority to force him into an airlock and off his ship.  There was a certain fear, though, a reminder of what he'd already been through, the lack of choices, of being in control, and that didn't seem likely to change any time soon, unfortunately.  This ship had trapped him, as surely as it had everyone else aboard.

Skye lay there for quite a while, listening to Scosche's breathing and knew when he'd drifted asleep.  Though he was an adult and she knew he could take care of himself, she felt protective of him and felt those stirrings like she'd had with Andrus.  It seemed something within her was wanting more, needing to be more than just an occasional bedmate.

This life wasn't suited to that though, especially not a fighter pilot.  She couldn't dare to dream the dream of settling down with someone and having children.  The birth control would have to continue because there was no way they'd let a pregnant woman do what she did and that would trap her even worse than she already was now in their current situation.

For now all she could do was be there for Scoche, be his friend and prove to him that not everyone was like that horrid woman who had duped him.  Somehow she had to restore his faith in people, even when she herself didn't have a lot in people in general.  One thing she knew though was usually if you were a true and stalwart friend to someone, they reciprocated equally.

And really, a good friend was a treasure as much as a lover.  Taking those desires for more, she buried them deeper and hoped they wouldn't rear up at her again.  The stars knew her path better than she did and she would just have to follow it, accepting whatever came along and hope she could reconcile her feelings better at a later date.