Ruth was doing her best to look bored and petulant as she lounged deliberately by the inventory reports she was checking. She was supposed to resent any attempt to force any real work from her, so she filled her head with complex physics problems and did as little, as slowly, as possible, her fingers idly playing with her jewelry. She'd practiced with the elaborate make-up and hair styles until they felt almost natural, but she still wasn't used to the metal in her ears, or around her throat or forearms or upper arms or fingers.
It was difficult for her, too, to put forth an insulted, cowed charade. The crew expected that reaction from the former First Officer's ex-woman. Spock expected her to play at it as well, even though he knew the reality of it; and that, coupled with the fact that she couldn't be happier about it, was a hard test of her acting ability. Kevin was good to her, a gentle considerate lover, not forcing anything on her, understanding her hesitancy - any raped woman would be, he said. She realized that here she could easily feel the love Kevin had always wanted from her. Until she thought of Spock. She was so terribly ambivalent - he was a monster, but he'd been so caring - beloved - and his telepathic ability felt so right, and it might help jar her own talents back to usefulness. After all, he hadn't exactly raped her, not really, and compared to Kirk... Stop this, Ruth, she told herself sharply.
Come.
The word sounded suddenly in her mind, soft, commanding, expectant. Sensual. She blinked and looked up. Spock stood in the doorway of the lab, his eyes locked on hers. He raised his hand, crooking a finger at her.
Her throat went suddenly dry, and her eyes darted quickly around the lab. Moreau was looking at her blandly. No one else seemed to notice the Captain's presence.
Ruth, I need. Now.
She took a deep breath, hearing the silent warning even in his mind's tone. One hesitant step and the image of sleek olive arousal flooded her senses. She came into his arms with the rush of passion, her mouth on his, her body yielding to the caresses that began even before he pulled her into a deserted lab room.
Kevin waited half an hour after Ruth should've been off duty before sauntering into Sciences. When he didn't see her, he announced brashly, "Where's my woman?"
Everyone there looked up. No one answered, but Moreau stared at him. He approached her. "Have you seen Miss Valley, ma'am?" he asked with almost a sneer.
Moreau smiled coolly. "She's with the Captain, Riley. She has been all afternoon." At his shocked look, she laughed. "As long as he's kept happy, I don't care," she went on. "And I wouldn't advise you making any trouble either. He's just waiting for an excuse to kill you. Besides - " her smile turned cruel. " - he is the Captain, isn't he?" She turned. "And you can thank Sulu for that."
Kevin stood dumbstruck with pain and grief, then swallowed as it hardened into anger. Damn that monster, damn him to hell! Ruth, my poor baby...
He left the lab and headed straight for Sulu's office.
"Well, Kevin, what do you want me to do about it?" Sulu demanded in exasperation. "I thought she was safe, I did everything I could to make her safe. I didn't count on Spock still wanting her."
"We could kill Spock," Kevin pointed out.
Sulu's fist slammed down on his desk. "No! I'll risk anything and anyone to keep that Vulcan alive!"
"So he can rape Ruth, and Jilla, anytime he pleases? What the hell is wrong with you?"
All the anger drained out of Sulu's face. "What do you mean?" he asked hoarsely.
"Hadn't you thought of that?" Kevin nearly jeered. "He can do what he likes, he's the Captain. Or have you forgotten you conveniently gave him all the power he needs on a fucking silver platter!"
Sulu turned away. "He wouldn't do that, he can't..."
"Oh? When did Jilla stop being kal'aroun?"
"Damn it," Sulu rasped. "Damn it! I can't let him die, Kevin, it would mean Jilla's death."
"Letting him live means rape, for her and Ruth. How is that so much better?"
Sulu's eyes blazed. "Get out of here," he choked, barely able to get the words out for the rage and despairing realization that boiled in him.
"What - " Kevin began.
"I'll think of something. OUT!"
Kevin stormed out of the room, and Sulu slumped back into his chair, head pounding, his hands shaking. How could Kevin ask such a damned stupid question? Damned. That says it, doesn't it? Because Jilla fears death more than rape or torture or slavery, that's why. What can I do, god, what can I do?
Ruth gasped slightly with Spock's withdrawal and collapsed onto the bed, Spock's weight pressing down on her back. He began kissing the back of her neck and she moaned, trying to breathe evenly and deeply.
"Let me rest," she managed, and Spock growled half playfully and rolled off of her. She raised her head, wearily pushing her matted hair from her face. Her body ached - delightfully - and she shuddered remembering the slow progress from the lab floor, to against the turbolift wall, to over Spock's desk, to her hands and knees on his bed. And still he wanted more. His telepathic messages were no weaker, the lust no less intense. She hadn't had time to think of herself or anything else, no time to think about what he was doing to her. It felt good, incredible, and it was all she knew.
She turned over just as Spock reached for her. His eyes were burning, and he set her mind burning to match them. She shivered, her body welcoming. Yes, Spock, I don't care, make me want you!
He froze and the sudden change sent a searing pain through her. She searched his now icy eyes desperately, her voice faltering. "What - what did I..." The answer came in her mind.
You spoke to me?
What?
And again. What is this, do you keep secrets from me, Ruth?
Ruth began to panic. She hadn't spoken to him, at least not deliberately. Was her telepathy back so soon?
Spock sat up, pulling her with him. His gaze sought deeply into her. "Ruth," he questioned out loud. "How can you do what you did?"
"I..." She thought desperately. "I don't know, I... was just thinking... I..."
He shook her once. "Woman, don't lie to me."
"I don't know!" she wailed. He stared at her eyes, then abruptly reached for her temples. "No!" she burst out, then damned herself. His face hardened.
"You will tell me what I wish to know," he said, and his voice was soft but by no means gentle.
She closed her eyes, nodding desolately. She forced herself to keep still as his fingers touched her. Her mind screamed frantic useless rejection and his words penetrated her.
My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts...
It was strange and terrible and frightening. Ruth felt herself being invaded, searched, and could neither join nor hinder. She couldn't search him in return. She was passive, helpless, unable to stop or control the surrender of her mind. Is this what its like when I touch a non-telepath? she thought, and suddenly understood all the fear and awe that had been aimed at her. To be so powerless, so completely dominated by another's mind, totally under that mind's control and whims and orders... goddess, stop this, stop him, I'm afraid, help me!
Speak to me, came the sudden command. She tried, but could tell he heard nothing. Woman... Nothing still. Can you not control it?
No!
Ah, extreme emotion is the catalyst. I will remember. I am Spock, Miss Valley, and I am more than pleased to meet you.
His laughter was drowned in her hopeless fear and the sending, once again, of inarguable passion.
Sulu paced in his quarters, waiting for Jilla. He'd found out that she was usually expected on duty - he didn't spoil his women like Spock did. He worried about her every moment she was away from him, ever since Ruth had told him about Miller in Engineering. Ruth had said she'd screeched she could take care of herself. God, Buddha, Aema, I hope she never has to. God, Buddha, Aema, I'll kill anyone who tries. Chief of Security, even First Officer hasn't turned out to be much of a shield for them, has it? What to do, how to do my duty to them, as senior officer, as friend and husband - Husband. She'd have a fit over that, wouldn't she. What am I then? Why label it? She's my responsibility, for the rest of our lives. And now so is Ruth. And Kevin. What do I do? How can I protect them? I can't count on luck, and I can't hope to bluff for too much longer. That leaves only one way. Make us valuable to Spock. Make us indispensable. Give him more power on the 'fucking silver platter'? Yeah, silver and gold and bronze and cream. Tell him. We need your protection, we demand some modicum of respect for what we are, we'll use all we know, all our formidable talents to help you in any way you want. Another bargain. Will this one explode too? I can't know. I have to risk it. Or accept that Jilla is his kal'aroun, Ruth his woman. And I can't do that. So it's confess, deal. Imperial thinking doesn't come so easily after all.
His thoughts were interrupted by the hiss of the door, and he glanced toward it. Jilla's appearance still stunned him - her brand, her tattoo, the wild, animalistic quality the make-up and lack of clothing gave her delicate beauty. And the near madness of emotions swirling in fiery eyes. Crystal flame, god, crystal flame!
She was staring at him and he beat down the hedonism too late. She was shaking, but she viciously tore her clothing from her body, snapping out, "There, look at me, it is what you want, all you want, all anyone wants!"
He swallowed, closing his eyes, stopping the pain and righteous anger. "What happened, hon?" he asked softly.
"Everyone - stares, lusts..." Jilla answered, her head lowered. "So blatant and I cannot help but respond..."
Sulu felt his anger building. "Respond how?" he said, but it was difficult to get the words out.
She laughed. "How do you think?"
"Who?" The word was a phaser blast of agony, her reply a whispered echo of the same.
"Ramon."
He wanted to shake her, demand to know when and how, then take it to Ordona and make him pay for every microsecond she'd endured. But the knowledge that it wasn't 'endured', that her fire had caused it as much as Ordona's presumption stopped him, turning the anger to ungovernable pain. He didn't blame her, it wasn't her fault. Yet it wasn't Ordona's either. It's got to stop, I have to stop it!
She was crying and he went to her with a robe, covering her. He kissed her - or tried to. She turned away.
"No..." she mumbled brokenly, "do not touch me, no..."
He was suddenly filled with a strange sensation that he was becoming Indiian, for he knew what she felt - filthy, unclean, sullied, degraded. He stroked her hair. "Go on and take a shower then, baby," he whispered. "You're not, but you feel it, so go on."
"Come with me?" she asked, childlike. He couldn't help smiling.
"In a minute, there's something I've got to do."
She nodded, picked up her clothes and left the room. His face hardened and he stepped out of his cabin. Kevin had been relieved he knew, and he whirled on the guard who now stood there. The beating was quick, systematic, as painful as his skill in martial arts could make it and still leave the man standing and functional.
"Test me again, Ramon," he said softly. "Test me again."
Then he returned to his cabin and joined Jilla in a long, hot, cleansing shower.
Spock rested, his mind pleasantly dull with exhaustion. His body was equally sated and he smiled down at the sleeping form across his chest. Ruth Maxwell - how unflattering - Valley. Federation again, and trapped this time. More useful, perhaps then a Captain, a doctor, a communications officer, and I have an engineer as skilled as the Chief. Only one member is of no obvious use - but perhaps Riley can be made useful. And now it was more important than before that he regain possession of this golden marvel. The power that was inside her, the talent inherent in her was incredible. Had it been inherent in his Ruth? He had never explored her in that manner, would never have done so for this one if her mind had not called to his. A mistake, perhaps, on his part. Had he known of a native talent in his Ruth... But that is irrelevant now. She would have been the perfect tool, but I will make do with what I have. With luck, my telepathy can guide the return of hers to levels and inclinations best suited to my needs. Lovely Ruth...
He smiled again, then it faded as a dark realization came to him. He had been cheated out of her. The Federation boy had bluffed him because he was used to ascribing double and triple layers of meaning to everything Sulu did and said. But the boy must be shrewd, very clever to have carried off the most difficult role on the ship with no suspicion whatsoever. And how had he managed to mark Ruth so characteristically? And now that he knew of their origins, how did the kal'aroun - who wasn't - know what it was, or how to act, or the proper positions and titles? She had said 'tra'feean', and with little flaw in pronunciation. Ruth knew only what he'd said regarding it, so she couldn't have told - Jilla. The kal'aroun has a name. Resourceful, these Federation officers. And obviously better equipped to carry on a convincing charade than their predecessors in this predicament. Laudable. But the boy still tricked me. I do not bluff easily. Perhaps it may say more of his quality than my lack. And in any case, I have the lever to get Ruth returned to me.
His smile returned, and Ruth stirred. He carelessly pushed her off of him, kissing her as he shifted positions. He got up, slipping on his robe. Before he could cross to the com, it signaled abruptly.
"It's the only choice I've got, Jilla," Sulu murmured as he stroked her hand. "Kev's right. Spock can take you or Ruth whenever he feels like it. There's nothing to stop him unless I give him something."
Jilla's face was buried against Sulu's chest and she tried not to hear the sense in his words. He'd made love to her in the shower - she'd known he would - telling her Ramon didn't matter, or Spock or Sepak. She wasn't a whore, and what was done to, with, her body meant nothing. And he listened as she tried to explain that it meant everything.
"It isn't you," he'd said.
"It is, it has to be, there is only one me," she had replied.
"Different universes," he began.
"One goddess, one time," she had said miserably. "One now, one past, one eternity. Physical change is nothing to Aema. This body is me. All it is, I am." It was impossible for an Aeman to believe otherwise. He didn't understand - so much he never understood - but he accepted it and went on from there. She knew telling Spock who they were was the only logical alternative, the only hope for changing the way they were dealt with. She knew, too, logically, there was no way for Spock to get around it. The case Sulu would present was honest and aboveboard, no deceit, no hidden clauses, no place for exception or hedging. Yet there was a fear in her, nameless, without direction. It didn't come from worry about breaking the Prime Directive. Valjiir technology was advanced, but the differences were not of society-changing magnitude. Nor was her fear based on Spock's taking advantage of their Federation naivete. They had lost that the second day here. Sulu's idea was logical - and something inside her knew it would do no good.
Sulu gently pushed her away and she glanced up, panic coming into her eyes. His face was set. "I have to do it, Jilla. It's my responsibility, my decision. It's the only way I can see to get some guarantee for our safety."
For a moment she thought of distracting him, using the involuntary seductiveness of her 'training' to stop him from calling Spock. But he shook his head at her.
"Please, honey. Don't," he said and she bowed her head, chagrined. She went to the bed and curled up, hugging her pillow in silent dread, never once questioning how he had known her intention.
Ruth raised her head from the mattress as the intercom buzzed. Her mind was still sleep-fogged and tingling from Spock's presence, and his voice sounded far away.
"Spock."
"Sulu," came the answer, and Ruth struggled to clear her head. "All monitoring devices are off this link, no recording is being made. I've deactivated yours as well as mine. Mine you'll have to take on faith, you can check yours if you want."
Spock's voice was clearer. "Mr. Sulu, what precisely is the meaning of this communication?"
"I've got something to tell you. There will be no evidence to prove I've ever said it should you try to use it against me - or mine. I'm not doing it in person because my Security Chief would get suspicious if there was a time lapse in certain recordings. I can speak freely from where I am. I trust you can manage to keep your voice level down."
"I am listening, Mr. Sulu." There was an edge to Spock's voice and Ruth sat up, starting toward him. He glanced at her, a command flashing in her brain: Stay.
She swallowed helplessly. There was a long pause before Sulu spoke. When he did, all the oily suavity was gone. He sounded young, efficient, determined - and definitely not Imperial. No, Sulu, goddess, no!
"I and Ruth Valley and Kevin Riley and Jilla - Costain - are not who you think we are."
NO! Ruth cried and found to her horror that it was silent. Spock smiled at her.
Do not tell him I already know, my beloved, echoed with soft amusement in her mind.
"Indeed, Mr. Sulu?"
As Sulu's voice deliberately explained what had happened, Ruth clawed uselessly at the bed, her tongue refusing to voice her helpless thoughts. He'll use it, he already knows, Sulu, don't! I'm sorry, I couldn't help it! He'll trick you, he'll trap you, Roy, stop! There were tears in her eyes and her pleas to Spock to stop the charade were as futile as her words to Sulu. He wasn't letting her speak. She could feel her mind pounding against the restraint, but Spock's strength held.
"We've got stores of knowledge that could, if properly used, give you anything you want," Sulu said. "But there's no way you could force it from us. A meld would get it for you, but you're a Captain now and you need the hands as well as the ideas. To force us to work for you with threats or pain would be a fool's solution. How could you possibly check every detail of our work? Who here could you trust to give the knowledge to who could do it for you? We're trapped here, we know that. You've trapped us, we know that too. But we can take you down with us, and if you leave us no choice, we will. I'm not as clever as he was, but I'm not stupid either. We'll give you what you want, freely, but on our terms. As I read it, you're as trapped as we are."
Ruth could hear Spock's laughter, but his expression didn't change, and his tone was one of grim, reluctant capitulation. "And your terms are - ?"
Sulu, don't! Ruth begged. Don't give him the weapons he needs, he has too many already! Please, don't tell him what's important, don't give us away please, please!
He couldn't hear her, of course, and Spock said, Softly, beloved. You will give me a headache.
Spock, please!
Extreme emotion. Delightful.
Ruth shrieked and cursed and wept as Sulu answered Spock's questions.
"I can't keep Ruth from you, I know that now. It was stupid to try. But you can treat her as a competent science officer, an intelligent being, and an equal. No beatings, no orders, and have consideration and respect for her needs and desires. She's not to be your whore. The same for Jilla. Keep away from her, keep your damned brother away from her. She's not kal'aroun. Leave Riley alone. He'll steer clear of you. And me - don't plot or plan against me. Paget belongs to me and I've proven I can keep Security mine. For my part, I guarantee you'll get the full range of our abilities. I'll keep my people working for you."
"You can guarantee the cooperation of - I believe you refer to them as 'your people', Mr. Sulu?" Spock asked dryly.
No, he can't! Ruth shrieked.
"Yes," Sulu replied.
We shall see, Spock said in Ruth's mind. "Very well, Commander," he continued out loud. "Since I seem to have little choice, we have a bargain."
"Done." The toughness returned, the undertone of cool amusement. "I'll restore your bugs to normal, Captain. Trust me. Sulu out."
Spock closed the com and turned to Ruth. He let his eyes sear into hers, calling, commanding, and laughed heartily as she came to kneel before him.
"I'll tell him," she rasped in a choked whisper.
"Of course," he returned, his fingers stroking her temples, "but not just yet. And it is already too late."
She sobbed once, then her mind lost coherent thought with the emerald flames consuming her.
Kevin was skeptical, almost hysterically so, as Sulu told him what he'd done.
"What reason has Spock got now to keep me, any of us alive?" he demanded. "Sure the technology would be nice, but he doesn't need it."
"You don't understand how Security works in this universe," Sulu tried to explain.
Kevin snorted. "And you do?"
Sulu ignored the comment. "More than any other section, Security makes or breaks a command," he went on. "And here, Security is unquestionably loyal to me."
"And if Spock tells them who you really are?" Kevin sneered.
"He'd have to prove it." Sulu took a deep breath, fixing a steely gaze on Kevin. "And I don't think he can."
"You can be that monster?"
"If I have to."
Jilla moaned softly, curling more deeply into the blankets on the bed. Kevin would be convinced, calmed. He would take what concessions could be gotten from Spock. He would move carefully, curb his pain and grief and learn to hide his hatred. For Ruth's sake, he would have to accept that she could not be kept from Spock. Jilla felt tears coming to her eyes. As Sulu must accept that she could not be kept - from anyone. She herself had to accept it. I might as well have given myself to Vulcan. It would have saved Ruth and Kevin - and Sulu would be free to do what would save himself rather than worrying about an already lost cause. Perhaps I should surrender, even now. But Sulu has already sold our only hope. She sobbed and heard the hiss of the door. Kevin cried, "Ruth!" and she closed her eyes and tried not to feel.
Ruth heard but ignored Kevin, her attention was completely on Sulu. "Do you realize what you've done!" she screamed at him, and realized that her anger was as much at herself as at Sulu. She didn't give him time to do more than register surprise. "He'll destroy us. He'll use everything. And you didn't have to tell him," she added as she started to cry. "Not a word. He already knew."
Sulu was suddenly grabbing her shoulders, shaking her. "How?"
"He's a telepath!" she screamed back. "He took it, just like he takes everything else he wants. When you called he already knew."
Sulu's hands dropped to his sides as he backed away from her. "Then I haven't done any harm, have I?" he asked bitterly.
"I could've bargained..." Ruth began futilely.
"To betray us?" Kevin shrieked at her. She whirled to face him.
"To save you! He could've done anything to me..."
"While you supplied him with information about us, while he plotted against us with our own ace..."
"Riley, shut up!" Sulu shouted. "She didn't have any choice, and Ruth, neither did I. I played our ace. It wasn't enough. But he agreed..."
"To stay away from Jilla and that's all you care about anyway!" Kevin snapped viciously. "Keep your little nymphomaniac from at least one man on -" His voice choked off in surprise as Sulu fiercely backhanded him. It was a gesture of contempt as well as anger and Kevin's eyes hardened. "If you have to," he said. "I'm sorry I doubted you." And he turned and left the cabin. Ruth stared after him and Sulu slumped wearily into a chair.
"Ruth, whether Spock knew or not doesn't matter," he said quietly. "I gave that information. The bargain was using it."
"But Sulu," Ruth whispered fearfully. "You can't control Valjiir. I can do what I have to - except if he tells me otherwise. And Kevin was right - " She paused. "About Jilla. No one can control her, not even herself."
Sulu's face was set. "But she won't work with you. Not if I tell her not to. Valjiir, remember?"
Ruth searched the dark, guarded eyes. "Is she all you care about?"
He looked directly into hers. "Do you want me to lie to you?" She shook her head. "Then don't ever ask me that again."
"Sulu..." she began.
"Go to Kevin. Help him. I've been idle too long, I've got tapes to check."
"You sold us out."
"I did what I thought was best. It didn't work. It couldn't work. Would you rather I'd done nothing?"
"I'd rather you hadn't sold us out."
"I'd rather you hadn't too. Go on Ruth."
Choking back helpless tears, Ruth turned and followed Kevin.
Spock absented himself from his cabin as Moreau's things were moved out and Ruth's moved back in. Marlena had been no problem. She was humiliated and not inclined to earn the Captain's anger after having failed to hold his interest. Not that she could not have been interesting, Spock acknowledged. He recognized that her lack was solely due to the fact she was not Antari. He had had perfection. He was no longer intrigued by less.
And now, with the promise of more than perfection... There was simply no room for mercy to the late Captain's favorite. At least Marlena understands such things, even if she is not overjoyed at the turn of events. It was somehow very satisfying to have one thing so predictable amid all the new situations he had to contend with.
He gave Ruth several hours to adjust to what were, for her, new quarters, then silently approached. He reached out with his thoughts and touched helplessness and fear - and breathless though unwanted anticipation.
I come, he sent gently. He felt her mental start, and she was alert, watching the door when he came through it.
Welcome me, he thought, an urging more than a command. I feel it within you, golden one. Do not deny me.
His mind was flooded with a cacophony of images, all triggered by the phrase 'golden one.' A picture of himself - sans beard - naked and obviously in the blood fever, fierce control evident in every line of his body, rasping 'It is not over. I need!' The kal'aroun glowing with silver fire - with a jolt of surprise he recognized the empathic feel that lay within Ruth's mind.
She, too, in the fever? An Indiian? A woman? By the gods, how delicious! The realization that, of course, it was not his kal'aroun was sharply disappointing.
His other self again, an emaciated wraith, sunken eyes full of fear, 'she brings pain, she is no healer!' and more, hesitant wonder, 'Not alone? Never alone?' Her answering thought, as full of terror and awe as it was joy, 'Never alone...'
Hands covering his face, dark green blood spilling between his fingers. Her panic, clear and tortured, "His eyes, goddess, not his eyes!' A miracle - he could see again! - knowledge of the depths of her emotions toward him...
Not towards me, he reminded himself, and was surprised at the anger this caused within him.
But... could she believe it was towards me?
Not forever. Her mind is too strong, even untrained.
Yet... long enough to make it towards me as well as him?
Carefully he examined the traces in her mind concerning him. Fear, first and foremost. Anger for what he had done to the kal'aroun. Sorrow for the pain he had caused - Roy? You have been friends, lovers with...! The Federation boy, not Duce Calvario's apprentice. He searched until he found the reference. LeRoi, a racing title. How quaint.
He filed the information and continued his examination. Fear, anger, sorrow; horror at his expressions of temper. And undeniably, though she was confused and disturbed by it, desire. Strong, passionate, a response that while of the body, was also for the feel of his mind in hers. And there was the seed he could use, for with her confusion came the conviction that he cared about her. It was colored by her hope for the affection of the other, beardless one, but it did exist for him, Spock, Captain of the I.S.S. Enterprise, fed by his care and concern after Kirk's brutal assault. Care that had been for her double. Yet that thought had not occurred to her.
I could do it, he mused. It would require some time, and a dedicated effort, but the rewards...
He smiled to himself, then gave himself to the images and to the need they sparked in the Antari who was soon to be his; body, mind - and heart.
Why did he have to say 'golden one'?
The question hung, heavy grief in Ruth's mind, as she lay against Spock's chest. He had explored the images the word evoked, she knew, but he hadn't used them against her. He had wanted her to welcome him, and with thoughts of the Spock she loved, it was far too easy to do. He was patient, more gentle than he had been previously, though no less sating. She had wanted desperately to know why, hoping against hope that Sulu's gamble had been right, that Spock in any universe was a man of his word. Her desperation sent the thought to him - extreme emotion.
"My woman was an Antari whore," he replied matter-of-factly, his long fingers idly toying with a strand of her hair. "I treated her as such. You, however..." He let the explanation trail off, then added in her mind, And, yes, I am a man of my word. I believe you already knew that. There was a pause, in which Ruth felt a strange mix of emotion; sorrow, desire, confession - hope? I call you golden one because, beloved, you are. His next words, out loud, confused her, for they were almost sardonic.
"I trust you do not object to the endearment. It has become habit."
"As long as you know I'm not your 'beloved'," she returned.
He shifted, turning his head to look down at her. "Are you not?" he asked. It sounded like the same dangerous baiting he had done at their first encounter, yet, again, her empathy picked up both hope and despondency. She swallowed, wanting, for safety's sake, to play his game, yet pulled by the haunting touch of conflicting emotions.
"I'm not your Antari whore," she said, but she smiled to soften it.
"But you are my Antari," he rejoined, and something in the depths of his eyes softened that as well.
To her surprise, a spark of joy leapt up within her. It's only hearing that voice call me his, she rebuked herself. Get a hold of yourself, this isn't him. To cover her reaction, she murmured, "Well, Antari, anyway."
"At least we agree on something," he murmured back, almost conspiratorially. His fingers trailed down from her shoulder, lightly caressing the side of her breast. "That," he went on, "and golden one."
Ruth shivered, and her body responded before she realized it, turning to him even as he turned to her. Her eyes closed as his lips touched hers, and for an instant, at the moment of contact, she caught the fleeting thought: Still, you are beloved to me.
It is what you want, all you want, all anyone wants!
Keep your little nymphomaniac from at least one man on...
Is she all you care about?
You sold us out.
Sulu slammed his hand down on his desk, damning himself. His mind had wandered, again. He knew it was vital that he study and memorize all the information in the security reports, but he couldn't concentrate. Kevin was sullen and snarling, not really a problem since that fit well with the Captain's appropriation of 'his' Antari. Ruth was privately cautious, but playing new Captain's woman to the hilt in public. And Jilla...
Keep your little nymphomaniac from at least one man on...
She can't help it, it isn't her fault. She's got no Vulcan in her, her sensitivity has been manipulated into unbridled, unthinking response. Her body's been trained, she can't help it...
It is what you want, all you want, all anyone wants!
His mind went on, conjuring pictures of her with every crewman he saw. It wasn't true, he knew. He had made it clear to the Chief of Security that he would no longer tolerate her casual sexual activity, and had instructed Paget to report any infraction. Paget had been surprised.
"Boss, keeping that hellcat on the straight... It would be a full time job."
"Did I ask your opinion, Jeremy?"
"No, sir. I'll see to it, sir."
Yet it tormented him, far beyond all that was reasonable. Every time he looked at her, desire shot through him, followed by nearly savage possessiveness. The seductive way the skimpy halter and skirt that passed for a uniform molded to her lush body filled him with jealous need. The whore's mask she had to paint on her face every morning haunted him, remaining even when he closed his eyes. And always at the edge of his awareness, taunting him, calling to him, was crystal flame.
Stop it, damnit, you can't let yourself get preoccupied like this! he scolded himself. Taking on the First Officership had doubled his work load, since he had no intention of relinquishing the advantage security monitors afforded him. He wanted desperately to trust Paget, as he trusted the man he had known all his life. But that would've been a stupid move. He simply had Jilla double all the feeds. But it made this distractedness all the more dangerous. If only I didn't feel so damned guilty...
Guilty about what? You're doing all you can to keep your people alive. There are some trade-offs. That's not my fault.
Except that you're never the one doing the trading.
I do what I have to do, just like everyone else. I hurt Ruth when I had to...
And enjoyed the hell out of it.
I can't help what I am, what Cal made me...
There. ' Apprentice to Duce Calvario' here. Wouldn't you like to explore that?
Shut up, stop it, get back to work!
"Boss?"
Startled, Sulu looked up. Paget stood in the doorway of his office. Christ, how long has he been there? "What the hell do you want?" he snarled.
"Can I talk to you?"
Sulu's guard immediately came up and he felt himself stiffening. "What about?" he asked.
"Private."
Dread raced through Sulu's being. Shit, he's found me out. Please, god, don't let him have found us out! He took a deceptively casual breath, then gestured to Paget to close the door and take a seat. The tall, black man did so. You look great with that gold sash at your waist, Sulu caught himself thinking, then shook the thought away. This was a dangerous assassin, not his dearest friend and former lover. "What's on your mind, Jer?" he forced himself to say.
"First, I've intercepted three infringements by your Indiian so far today. In my opinion, you should take a couple of hours off and cool her down a little."
Anger seethed through Sulu's mind. "Intercepted how?" he growled.
"Literally. I told the offender to take his hands off the First Officer's Woman." Sulu bristled, and Paget quickly went on. "Frankly, Boss, I'm pretty sure she started it."
"She started it?" Sulu hissed.
Paget seemed to draw back in his chair. "There were a few comments made, but yeah, from what I saw, she came at them."
A few comments. 'It is what you want, all you want, all anyone wants!' She can't help it. "I'll take care of it," he said aloud. "What else?"
"Can I ask why?" Paget said.
"Why what?"
"Why you suddenly care who the whore fucks," was the blunt response.
Sulu swallowed the fury that threatened to consume him. "Because she's mine," he said in a calm, deadly voice.
Paget's dark eyes widened. "When?" he stammered. "I mean... I didn't think you were... interested in her for that. Does she have some substance after all?"
Completely confused, Sulu only replied, "Would she be mine if she didn't?"
"No, of course not." Paget grinned. "Sorry, boss. I should've guessed." He started to rise from his seat. "Well, that settles that. But it's gonna get messy, Sulu. The Don trained her too well."
"I know," Sulu returned.
There must have been some kind of edge to his voice, because Paget stopped, staring at him. Finally, he said, "And you want it that way."
"You know me entirely too well, Jeremy," Sulu bluffed. It hurt when Paget paled, his mahogany skin losing some of its ruddy cast.
"I'm yours too, Sulu," he whispered. His brown eyes sought for - something. Sulu didn't know what it was, and wouldn't know how to give it if he had. But he stood, moving around his desk toward the Security Chief. He saw Paget inhale, but the strong, slim body relaxed rather than tensed and Sulu could almost feel the sensual welcome. The words that came out of his mouth seemed alien, as though some other brain were using his vocal chords.
"Do you need to prove it, Jer?" he murmured.
Paget swallowed. "If you want," he rasped.
Sulu moved very close to him. Heat radiated from the taller man, his heart obviously thundering. "Keep my woman safe," Sulu said, very softly and very clearly.
"Yes, Sulu," was the reply.
Sulu turned away and the spell was broken. Paget's body-language returned to its usual alertness as Sulu went back to his chair. "Anything else, Jer?" Sulu asked as he sat down.
"That about covers it," Paget returned.
Again, words came out of Sulu's mouth without conscious intent. "Then I have something for you." Paget straightened expectantly. "The Captain will test you, your section, your loyalty to me. Keep him guessing." He paused, looking directly into the chocolate brown eyes. "But not me. Understood, Mr. Paget?"
Paget nodded. "You got it, Boss."
"And one more thing. Have someone get Miss Costain and take her to my quarters."
"Right away," Paget replied with a grin. "Thanks."
"Anything to make your job a little easier, baby." Some intangible communication passed between them, and Sulu waited only a few moments after the Security Chief left before securing his files and heading for his cabin and the luxury of taking a couple of hours off to cool down his Indiian. If there was any part of him that remembered his distractedness or his guilt, he refused to notice it.
To Be Continued...