textfiles/sex/EROTICA/N/needle.txt

Prick of the Needle

	Astonishingly, Kathryn Janeway made it through her entire shift without
having to retire to her ready room.  She reminded herself repeatedly that
the if rest of the crew could go about their duties without cracking, she
certainly should be able to do so as well.  There would be other wormholes,
other aliens, and perhaps even now a message traveled from the Romulan
Empire to Starfleet Command revealing their whereabouts.  She tried not to
look at Ensign Kim, who made no attempt to hide the grief on his face, nor
at Tuvok, who kept a close eye on her as if he were concerned for her
welfare.  Only Tom Paris seemed nonchalant, which made a perverse sort of
sense; he probably had the least to gain if they found their way back to
the Alpha Quadrant, and the most to lose.
	She turned toward the operations panel to find Chakotay regarding her
cautiously.  His face had been impossible to read from the moment they
found the wormhole; he had seemed to share the crew's infectious
enthusiasm, but Janeway suspected that a deep ambivalence lay beneath his
cheerful efficiency.  He had said little as their plans to flee the Delta
Quadrant progressed, even failing to give B'Elanna's exceptional efforts
the praise he usually reserved for her.  She had not completely bought his
use of the Prime Directive as an excuse for aborting their launch, and
thought he had seemed relieved when Tuvok revealed that all their
preparations had probably been for naught.
	A touch of cold anger coursed through Janeway, for which she was quickly
grateful:  it inhibited her sorrow.  She understood why her first officer
did not share her misery--like Paris, he had much to lose by returning--but
she wondered how he could block out the mourning which had descended over
the crew, giving the vessel the atmosphere of a funeral barge.
	Out of the corner of her eye she saw the chronometer:  the shift was
almost over.  "Tuvok, you have the Bridge," she said as she rose, knowing
the Vulcan had been working for fourteen hours straight, yet trusting him
to understand that even so, he was the senior officer best equipped to
handle command at such a time.  He nodded comprehension as she headed for
the turbolift, Chakotay and Kim behind her.  The three rode silently to the
lower decks, Kim staring at the floor.
	Chakotay clapped the ensign on the shoulder as the lift stopped.  "Next
time, Harry," he said quietly.  Kim nodded at him, biting his lip, then
took off at a near-run when the doors opened.  Janeway looked levelly at
her second in command.  "It's going to be harder on the Starfleet people
than Maquis," he observed.
	"B'Elanna seemed rather enthusiastic about the idea of getting back," she
retorted.
	"I didn't say that we don't all want to go home. But I think..."  He had
been going to say "my people," but caught himself.  "...I know that at the
back of my mind, I was wondering exactly what happens when we do get back.
Do we report in to Starfleet Command right away?  Or plead our case to the
Federation Council directly?  Or were you planning to let us contact our
friends in the Maquis before we told anyone where we were?"
	"I don't know, Commander."  Her voice sounded strangled to him, and as he
watched, she clenched her eyes and her fists shut.  At first he thought she
was furious with him, but when she turned her face to the wall, he realized
that she was close to tears.
	"Halt lift," he said quickly as the doors began to open.  "I'm sorry. I
guess this isn't the time."  She did not look at him, keeping her eyes
tightly closed with her lips pressed together.  "How are you holding up?"
	She told herself that she was not going to cry in front of him, then
realized it was too late for such ultimatums; her hands came up to cover
her face.  He did not speak or touch her, for which she was extremely
grateful; she did not want any further damage to the already shaky protocol
between them.  When she had regained control a moment later, wiping her
eyes in annoyance, she was surprised to find him staring at the floor, face
twisted with an emotion she couldn't identify.  "I'm sorry," he said again.
"I know how hard it must be for you.  I don't mean to interfere with how
you deal with it, but if you want to talk, just tell me."
	She nodded, shamed but relieved that he had used those terms.  "I never
realized how complicated it would be to run a ship without any larger
command structure," she admitted.  "I'm still having trouble figuring out
what my relationship with the crew is supposed to be at a time like this.
How did you cope with it in the Maquis?"
	"With difficulty," he grimaced, and she smiled a little.  "We've both been
lucky to have very dedicated crews."
	"Thanks.  For reminding me, I mean."  Their eyes met uneasily as she
touched his sleeve and he slid his hand up to take hers.  They both looked
nervously away at the sudden intensity, until a smirk quirked the corner of
his mouth, which contagiously spread to hers.
	Her communicator chirped, making them jump guiltily apart as if someone
had actually seen them together.  "Tuvok to Janeway.  It has come to my
attention that your turbolift appears to be stalled.  Do you require
assistance?"
	"No, Tuvok, we're fine," she answered quickly, then cursed herself
inwardly for the plural pronoun before she realized that the security
officer surely knew that she was not alone--in fact, almost certainly knew
who was with her.  "Resume lift," she amended.  The doors opened almost
immediately.  "I made you a promise when you took this job," she reminded
Chakotay without looking at him as they exited the lift.  "It's going to
work out when we get back, one way or another."
	"I hope everyone at Starfleet HQ is as optimistic," he said dryly.
	They had been walking at their usual clip through the halls, but slowed as
they approached quarters.  Janeway thought of the photographs and the
crushed hopes which awaited her inside.  Not ready to be alone with them,
she racked her brain, trying to think of an excuse to ask him in for a few
minutes.  Just as she thought she would either have to say goodnight or
blurt out an invitation which would destroy all pretense at protocol, he
exclaimed, "I forgot to mention, Neelix showed me some interesting charts
on the dilithium in the systems past that dust belt we've been monitoring.
Do you want to see them now or can it wait until morning?"
	In spite of herself, she laughed conspiratorially.  "Oh, you'd better let
me see them now.  I don't know how I'll fall asleep until I get some
answers about that dust belt."
	He rested his palm against her lower back as they approached his door; she
looked at him sideways but did not step away.  The lights were dimmed for
the evening; he did not bother to order the computer to change them.
Grabbing a padd off his desk, he handed her the report, then moved behind
her and put a hand on her shoulder while they stood pretending to read in
the half-light.  She tossed down the padd quickly, bowing her head, and his
other hand rose to rub her neck.  When he stopped, she smiled weakly over
her shoulder, relaxed but still profoundly sad.  "I think I need to talk to
my animal guide," she said.
	"I think you need to be around people right now."  Her face appeared
younger and terribly lonely in the eerie light from space coming through
the window; he did not remove his hands from her shoulders.  She looked as
though she would turn out from under him, but just when he thought she
would extract herself from his clutches, she swayed back against him.
	"Tell me, do your people have any rituals that are purely joyous and
life-affirming?"
	He scanned her face, trying to read beneath the serious demeanor,
half-suspecting that a scientist like herself would have only a cursory
interest in his culture's mystical practices.  Wondering whether her
curiosity was merely a form of flirtation born of boredom and proximity, he
decided he had little to lose by playing along with whatever game she had
in mind.
	"Actually, yes," he confessed mysteriously.
	"Will you show me?"
	"You may already be familiar with it," he smiled a little, "it's very
well-known outside mytribe."
	"Refresh my memory," she said, puzzled.
	"All right," he agreed, a strange look lighting his features as he turned
her around.  "Come closer."
	"How close?"
	"Right here."  He put his arms around her waist lightly and, after
glancing up to see him nod, she wrapped hers across his chest, clasping her
hands behind his neck. The solemnity of her expression made him want to
grin.  "Close your eyes, and think about something that makes you happy.
Something that makes you like yourself." He waited until he felt her
muscles loosen, seeing the ease in her face. "Now concentrate on how you
feel physically when you're happy. Let your whole body feel it."
	Her eyelids fluttered and he commanded, "Keep your eyes closed," wondering
if she could hear the humor rising in his voice. "Remember the most joyous
experiences you've ever had. The big celebratory ones, and the very
personal ones, and the way light moves through your body when you're happy.
Focus on where you feel the joy." He held her silently for several long
seconds, watching a trace of pleasure drift across her features.
	She knew from the warmth of his breath against her skin what he was going
to do the moment before his lips touched hers; part of her wanted to pull
back to laugh at them both, while another part wanted to lock her arms
around his head so that he couldn't get away.  Instead she simply let him
kiss her.  His mouth brushed hers so gently that she could almost pretend
it was part of the memory she'd been having rather than the present, but
did not want to; instead she half-opened her eyes to find him regarding her
curiously.  "Feel better?" he inquired.
	"Mmmm," she purred noncommittally.  "Do you use this routine with all the
officers who come to you seeking solace?"
	"Only with my superiors," he winked.  "Wasn't it joyous enough for you?"
	She lowered her eyes.  "I guess this should be my cue to exit gracefully."
His arms tightened reflexively around her waist and she let her face rest
against his shoulder.  "But I'm too tired to make nonessential decisions."
	"Are you too tired to take a walk?" She looked up in surprise as released
her, taking her hand, tugging her gently towards the door and guiding her
through.  She was aware of him walking very close to her through the halls
of the ship; fortunately they passed very few people.  When they reached
the holodeck, he pulled her inside.  "Computer, engage all privacy measures
except emergency override, priority communication only.  Run Chakotay
program eleven-B."  Abruptly they were standing in a clearing in a deep
wood, surrounded by wildflowers; in the grass, a small stream trickled down
a slope until it reached rocks, them tumbled free into space down a steep
cliff.
	She could smell the flowers:  they reminded her painfully of home.  "What
is this place?" she asked.
	"It's a sacred grove," he said.  "A place holy to the spirits of my ancestors."
	"It's beautiful."  She knelt beside the water, splashing it onto her face
while she considered her next words.  "You weren't, um, planning to defile
it?"
	"Why would I do that?"  The touch of mischief in his smile matched hers.
"This place is holy to the gods of the soil.  It was used," he paused to
toss a flower to her, "for fertility rites.  The only way to defile it
would be..."  He had been about to say, "...to kill something," but stopped
himself.  "...to show disrespect," he finished instead.
	She had the same suppressed smile she wore while trouncing Tom Paris at
pool.  "So we have to do something life-affirming before we can leave?"
	"Mm-hmmm."
	Earnestness warred with anticipation on her face.  "Is there anything
we're supposed to recite, or perform?"
	"Only if you want to get married first," he grinned in surprise.
	"Oh."  She looked away, suddenly self-conscious.  "I thought I was the
only person on this ship authorized to perform weddings."
	"I used to have my own ship, remember?"  She felt him sit behind her and
leaned back into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his.  "Kathryn," he
murmured reverently, making her shiver with pleasure at the familiar yet
alien sound--she was herself the only person on the ship who ever called
her by her first name.
	"I was hoping you'd do this," she whispered.
	"I was hoping you were hoping.  But I didn't know which rules you were
playing by.  And when you ask me about myself and my background, I can't
tell whether you're just passing time or you really want to know."
	"Of course I really want to know.  Although I guess I was just teasing
when I said you struck me as the bear type," she sighed, feeling his
laughter warm her hair.  "I don't know if there are any rules that work out
here.  And I don't want to say anything that could be misconstrued as your
commanding officer speaking."
	"I know."  His hands were stroking up over her abdomen and across her
breasts; her scent and the heat from her body inflamed him.  She tried to
turn, but he held her still.  "I'll do you a favor, then. This time it can
be my fault.  I'll do all the work and all you have to do is scream if you
like it."
	"What if I want to..." she began but he clamped a hand over her mouth.
	"You'll have to wait until it's your turn.  Aren't you tired of giving
orders?"  She parted her lips just enough to bite down on his middle finger
and felt him press himself into her in response.  "None of that, now.  I'm
going to pull your clothes off, and you have to promise to stay completely
still so nothing gets ripped.  All right?"  She nodded and he lifted his
fingers from her mouth to stroke back to her hair, loosening the bun until
the waves fell free.  "I've thought about doing this when I walk behind you
on the Bridge," he confessed.  The hands dropped to unfasten her uniform.
"But then I'd want to do this, and I think some of the crew might get
suspicious if I needed to see you in your ready room for an hour every
shift."  He picked her up, one arm under her legs and the other around her
back, so that her face was turned sideways towards his.  She regarded him
from half-closed lids, one eyebrow raised in appalled amusement.  "Shall I
show you what else I think about when there isn't an interesting
singularity to explore?" he inquired formally.
	"I thought you were making the decisions," she said.  "But yes, I always
want to know what my senior officers are thinking."
	He lay her down and kissed her very gently over and over, as though she
were asleep and he feared he would wake her.  His touch was incredibly
light, and when she raised herself up towards him, he pulled back just
enough to maintain the electrifying distance.  He peeled her clothes off
almost without contacting her skin, then stood up to hurl his own across
the grove.  When she reached for his erection, he twisted away from her,
sneaking a hand across to probe between her legs.  His body throbbed in
excitement at the wetness he found.  He rolled her over, pushing her legs
upwards with his own to curl her into a ball, keeping his fingers pressed
against the hot soft opening.  His other hand squeezed between her doubled
form to cup her breasts, tickling each nipple until both poked rigidly out,
while he licked down the back of her arm to curl his tongue into her
armpit.  She snickered and squirmed under him, causing his fingers to slide
deeper into her, which in turn made her moan.
	Shifting his body upwards, he pressed his penis into the cleft between her
buttocks, then slid down just enough to guide it between the slick folds of
her sex.  He kept the swollen orb at the opening secure between two
fingers, rolling it gently as he moved with great deliberateness in and out
of her.  His weight prevented her from unwrapping herself, his arms kept
hers pressed back against his legs, and she found that she could not move.
She began to struggle but he kept her pinned in place, licking the back of
her neck very softly, running his teeth against the top of her spine, his
hands mercilessly teasing her nipples and circling her labia while he made
love to her so slowly that she wondered how he could stand it.  Her body
felt as though it was melting, growing beyond the space he had allotted
her, expanding from their sweat and the heat they were generating.  He held
her this way for minutes, her knees and toes digging into the soil, while
she thought she would explode if he didn't work faster or let her move.
Something surged within her, fighting her constraints and contracting her
muscles as it took her over.
	She did scream when she came, digging her fingernails into his thighs with
a suddenness that almost caused him to lose control.  Her back heaved
upward against his torso and she bucked like a horse trying to throw its
rider.  He eased her up onto her knees, one of his hands gripping both of
hers tightly at the wrists, the other remaining between her legs where she
writhed frantically against it.  He remained still while she wrenched
herself around him, sobbing "Stop stop stop stop please" until he finally
let her loose, moving his fingers to cup her backside as he continued to
penetrate her very slowly and them let himself slip almost out.
	She slumped against him and he bent her back over, lowering her onto all
fours.  He felt her fingers begin to slide up his thigh and pulled the hand
away, entwining his digits with hers as he kissed the knuckles.  Then he
stopped thrusting entirely and pushed her to the ground with his weight,
waiting as she bent her knees out from under her.  For what seemed to her
like several minutes he lay absolutely still on top of her, matching his
breathing to hers.  She felt his climax start in his hands, which pulled
fiercely back on hers; then his head lifted, the muscles tightened across
his chest and rippled in his belly, his thighs shoved against hers.  He
moaned her name just before he peaked, voice rising on the last syllable,
and then whispered it again with his final gasp at the end.
	He released her quickly, not wanting to trap her uncomfortably under him
for any length of time; she felt a dizzying rush of satisfaction as their
fluids spilled from her into the grass.  Not quite rolling off her, he
turned her onto her side so that her upper body was free but kept a leg
wrapped between hers; he pressed his head into her neck and purred like a
cat, letting his lower lip vibrate against her skin.  She flung herself
over and lowered her head to his, kissing him passionately, taking his face
in both of her hands to stroke back through his hair.  When he finally came
up for air, she whispered, "Thank you. You're even better than I've
fantasized."
	"Thank YOU," he almost blushed and kissed her again, leaving marks with
the force of his hunger around her mouth, which he traced gently with a
finger once he had released her.  "Would you do something for me? A little
thing?"
	"Yes. What?"
	"Stay with me while you sleep. Don't go back to your quarters and cry for
whoever it is that's making you so unhappy."
	She thought briefly of the Vulcan on the Bridge: if Tuvok had traced her
communicator signal to the turbolift, he could surely find out where she
was spending the night if he tried to reach her in her quarters and she did
not reply. It was a risk she was willing to take.  She did not think she
could bear to be alone, remembering Mark and reliving the past hour
simultaneously. "All right," she agreed.
	He hugged her happily; he had not really expected her to go along with
him. "Too bad we can't just use the transporters," he grunted as he felt
around for the pieces of their clothes. They dressed and walked out
quickly; she felt certain that anyone looking at them would know
immediately what they had been doing, but the corridors were almost
deserted. To his amusement, she actually looked both ways before entering
his doorway.
	She lay down next to him and discovered that she could no longer look at
his skin without wanting to taste it.  They made love again before falling
asleep, touching one another in aimless tenderness until their bodies
lazily fit themselves together, lulling each other into silent bliss.

	The morning shift dragged interminably. 
	Janeway glanced over at her former enemy commander turned first officer
turned--she was NOT going to think about him that way--and found him
watching her.  He looked away, but not before she caught the naughty grin
that lit his eyes.  It was too late to condemn either of them for the night
before, but she had no idea what to do about the situation they had
created.  For three hours now they had been covertly regarding one another;
she feared that the rest of the Bridge crew must have noticed, although the
day seemed like any other, Kim and Tuvok busy at their consoles, Tom
cracking jokes about the monotony of the dust belt.  Chakotay slouched a
bit more than usual, but probably just appeared bored to onlookers.  He
glanced up again, aware of her gaze, and cocked an eyebrow in such perfect
imitation of their chief of security that she had to suppress a laugh.
	Obviously, she raged, he knew her too well.  When she considered how
completely she had lowered her barriers with him, a low fury would possess
her, gripping her in a manner not unlike desire.  She was mostly angry with
herself, but the irritation only served to heighten her arousal.  She
thought she could smell his musky scent, although he sat several feet away;
she shoved herself to her feet to escape it and found the entire Bridge
crew looking at her.  "I'll be in my ready room," she snapped at them.
"Tuvok, the Bridge is yours.  Commander...may I have a word with you?"
	His eyes registered nothing but idle curiosity as he rose to follow her.
She did not look behind nor wait for him as she strode purposefully off the
Bridge.  From the far side of the ready room, she paused with her back to
the door until she heard him enter and the doors slide shut.  "Computer,
lock doors.  No communication except emergency override, voice only."  She
turned to him then, jerking her head toward the couch.  "Sit down."
	His mouth curved whimsically as he moved to recline, never taking his eyes
off hers.
	"Hurry up."  She put her hands on her hips.  "I figure we have ten minutes
before anyone misses us--if we're lucky and Tuvok doesn't notice that I
locked the door.  So I'm not going to say anything."  Joy and amusement
crossed his features as she paced, looking him over as if he were edible
and she hadn't eaten in hours.  "And neither are you."  He regarded her
silently, waiting.
	She crossed quickly to him and pulled him roughly against her, pressing
his head into her chest while she buried her face in his hair, breathing
deeply.  Then she dropped down quickly, her fingers tugging hard as they
assaulted the closures of his uniform.  His breath quickened when she
pressed her nose, then her mouth, into the hollow of his throat.  She felt
his hands move lightly to rest on her waist, but he made no aggressive
moves.
	There was nothing coy or seductive about her as she worked purposefully,
exposing his skin, sniffing and licking her way down his body until she
yanked his pants out of the way and closed her mouth over his already erect
penis.  He stroked her gently as his fingers sought to open her clothing,
careful not to muss her hair in his excitement.  She was sweating lightly
under the uniform and he pushed it down her shoulders.  Without lifting her
head, she pulled her arms from the sleeves and squirmed the outfit down
around her ankles.  Then she replaced her mouth with her left hand and
crawled up his body, pushing him back against the couch.
	She kissed him deeply, tickling the top of his palate with her tongue,
while her free hand tipped his head back against the top of the seat.  Her
legs swung around his body to kneel above him; she slid her wet sex over
the head of his swollen organ and he wheezed a little.  Without warning she
sat back on her ankles, taking him inside her so quickly that the pressure
made her moan.  He held her hips, trying to slow her, but she bucked
against him and he gave in, feeling himself harden to an almost painful
stiffness.  Her fingers gripped his shoulders as she rocked, raising
herself up onto her knees and then falling back, rubbing herself against
his belly each time she pressed down.  He leaned forward to kiss her neck,
but she shoved him back firmly, arching away, one hand falling from his
shoulder to touch his nipple, the other to reach behind her.
	As her fingers wrapped around his testicles, something seemed to burst in
his head, knocking his voice free as well as his control.  "Wait," he
gasped urgently, "don't, I'm going to..."
	The sentence dissolved into a groan as his hips thrust helplessly upwards.
"I know," she sang delightedly into his ear, tightening her entire body
around him while he fought to hold back, fingers digging into her rear
during the intense buildup.  Her ravishing eagerness throttled him, turning
his cheeks red and widening his eyes while he struggled to breathe through
it; she saw the precise second that he surrendered, eyelids drooping and
nostrils flaring.  When he erupted, she was the one who cried out in
jubilation.
	By the time he managed to focus on her, she had slipped one of her own
hands between her legs and was ramming against him.  He stroked her breasts
gently, watching her eyes flutter and her sculptured features contort with
concentration.  "Keep your hands where they are," she commanded without
seeming to move her lips.  In the minute or so that it took her to drive
herself to orgasm, slamming her body down against his groin, he had already
begun to become aroused again.  She buried her face against his chest and
murmured a series of incoherent syllables, her entire body shaking, then
threw her head back and hyperventilated while tremors rolled through her
loins.
	He was studying her affectionately when she recovered, his eyes moving
from her face to her erect nipples to the hand which still pressed against
herself.  She removed it self-consciously and he caught her wrist with a
lecherous grin, bringing her fingers up to his face to sniff like an
animal.  She laughed in embarrassment and he leaned forward to kiss her,
taking advantage of her moment of weakness.  "That wasn't even ten
minutes," he accused.
	"It will be by the time we have our clothes back on," she tossed back.
"You go out first.  I'll wait a little while and then join you."  She
climbed off his lap and raced awkwardly to her desk, muttering, "Where did
I put the damn tissues?"
	They cleaned up and dressed silently, closing one another's uniforms with
a minimum of contact. He pressed his lips to her cheek before he exited;
she put her hand up over the spot and watched him as he backed out the
door.  Once he was gone, she sank back onto the couch, dropping her
forehead into her other hand, trying to remember what command composure
felt like around the burning between her thighs.
	Tuvok rose as Chakotay reentered the Bridge; the first officer sat in the
Captain's chair, imagining the curve of her back pressed into it.  He
sighed involuntarily, and Paris looked at him strangely. "Back so soon?
The Captain sure seemed to be fired up about something."
	"She didn't have much to say," Chakotay rejoindered.  "The meeting was...a
quickie."
	Paris turned back to his panel, grunting sympathetically, while Chakotay
stared at the floor suppressing a buoyant smile.  Tuvok raised an eyebrow,
wondering what sort of human joke he had missed this time.

END