I Don't Bow

By Zuzu Petal

AN: I was listening to The Kiss from The Last of the Mohicans soundtrack, then this happened. And seeing as how there's still plenty of love for this ship and many unanswered questions I don't see the harm in posting this.

Michael's phaser was fixed on him, her bottom lip trembling. His hands were up, a sign of peace, defense. A treaty of friendship.

"It's me, Michael-"

"Stay back!" She warned, her trigger finger feeling twitchy... anxious.

"Michael, I need you stay calm." He said gently, his accent tickling her core the way it always had done in that strange and confusing way that she could never understand.

But perhaps now she did... in another life, another universe there was a reason for the nervous trickle of sweat at the nape of her neck when he stood close, the slickness she would feel after a conversation.

There had always been a reason.

He put out a hand.

"Give me the phaser."

Michael shook her head, she felt her eyes filling with tears. The compartment they were trapped in shuddered with turbulence as the imperial lethiavan of a palace rocked in and out of place, a battle taking place behind these closed walls.

But she remained steady on her feet. They both did.

"Tell me the truth." She demanded.

"Michael, we both know you're not gonna shoot me." He said knowingly.

How dare he? What did he know of her? He knew nothing. He was a liar in her world and a traitor in his own. What kind of a man was he? He cheated her out of her confidence. He had used her past and the Binary Stars against her.

Gabriel Lorca had no honor.

"You don't know that. This place has changed me." She told him, threateningly. But he was undeterred. He took a cautious, calculated step towards her, she was tempted to move backwards but something kept her in place... it was his eyes.

Pools of blue sadness, over a mask of spirit and determination.

"Then why haven't you changed the setting to kill?" He asked.

Her brow furrowed, her eyes swept to the meter on the phaser. It was all the time he needed. In seconds he was across the few feat that separated them. She struggled, she fought hard but he overpowered her. She was emotional, thinking with her fists and not her head. Her heart sore.

"Let go of me!" She shouted, her voice had nowhere to go and neither did she.

He had her back against his chest, his arm around her neck and her wrists gripped in a tight fist behind her back, her fingers weakly hanging onto the phaser.

"Calm down!" He roared in her ear, it shook her and she shuddered, forcing herself to remain calm and wait for her opening. He would get tired eventually, she would find a weakness and exploit it.

"I'm going to let go of you. But I need something first." He said into her ear, she shivered.

"What?" She snapped, ignoring the almost familiar sensations that coursed through her.

"This." He wiggled the phaser free from her hands, encompassed by his larger one, and tossed it to the other side of the room, where it clattered to the floor.

Gabriel released her and she stepped raggedly away from him, bending to rest her hands on her knees, breathing deeply. Remembering her Vulcan training, calling on all her years of meditation and introspection to help her now.

"Who are you?" She asked, rising to her full height again but not turning to look at him, still feeling as small as she did when they first met.

"I'm Captain Gabriel Lorca. But not your universe's Lorca." He said simply.

Michael rubbed her forehead and turned. She had been fooled by him, by those eyes, by his voice, by his promise of redemption. He had used her, he had used them all.

"You're not Captain Lorca." She accused and he shook his head.

"I'm still the man you thought I was." He said, unashamed.

"You lied-"
"No!" He barked, cutting her off and holding up a finger. "I... withheld, but I never lied. Please do not insult yourself by pretending to not know the difference. You're better than that."

Michael gawked at him.

"Your flattery has run its course with me." She said strongly.

"Be that as it may. I never wanted your goddamn war or any of the bullshit that came along with it."

"Then what did you want?"

"Liberation, freedom, a fucking choice. Hell, I don't know. The ability to breathe without it coming at a price."

Michael had no smart retort or quippy come back. That's what all creatures wanted in the end, what they all deserved by right. He had been denied that his whole life. How old was he? Fifty something years old? Half a century living in fear... Michael couldn't cope after only a few days.

"This place didn't change you," he went on. "It opened your eyes. Don't tell me you didn't see what I was."

Shaking her head, Michael leaned against a bulkhead for support,

"I didn't."

"I always knew I had to come back," Gabriel continued, she felt his voice coming closer. "But there were a few things I didn't quite count on when I ended up in your universe."

Finally looking at him, she realized how close he was standing and how much softer his voice sounded.

The battle waged on all around them, people were dying and people were looking for them. They didn't have much time...

Swallowing, Michael dared to ask, "What?"

"Finding a reason to stay there." He raised his hand.

Gabriel touched her face, his thumb running over her bottom lip. She trembled anew, feeling her body relax so naturally into his touch.

"You're the reason I left this hell and the reason I want to stay gone." He said, he lowered his head to her shoulder, dipping his height significantly.

This was her chance, his neck was exposed, his shoulder. Other vulnerable parts of his body were also open to attack.

She could punch his throat breaking his windpipe and then cuff him with her elbow. Maybe his eyes... take his eyes.

So why wasn't she attacking?

"Michael, you can't believe what she told you." He said raising his head once more, those sad orbs begging her to listen.

"Captain Georgiou-"

"Is dead!" He barked again, shoving himself away from her with a exaggerated sigh. "That... woman, is not your Philippa. She never was. She's using your relationship and personal feelings for your dead captain against you. Against me."

Michael felt foolish, but it couldn't be that entirely. In this world she had called this Georgiou "mother". There must be more than that?

"Why would I help you here?" She asked. "She said you... that we had a relationship. That I needed a father and instead you groomed me."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed and then relaxed, realization dawning on him and he curled his upper lip in disgust.

"She said that, did she?" He said, his voice ragged. The compartment shook again, this time nearly destabilizing Michael off her feet. She staggered to another bulkhead, placing a hand on it. And yet he remained firm and immovable.

"Did she tell you she had been molesting you since you were eight?" He asked calmly.

Michael felt her stomach clench, her heart was in her ears. A battle drum, a war cry.

No... No! She cried inside of herself.

"I found you once afterward," he said, but the words were difficult for him to gnaw on, like it left a putrid taste in his mouth. "You had to be twelve maybe. I didn't know it had been happening but... you finally told me. And that's when I knew I couldn't let it happen anymore. You're right, you needed a father. And what kind of father figure would I have been if I let you remain in her clutches? You weren't the first child and you wouldn't be the last."

Michael felt the tear fall from her cheek; she could picture him, even herself because it was easier. He would've been younger, less lines on his face, perhaps already beginning to feel the cracks inside himself. And her abuse had pushed him over the edge.

"We had to wait years and it killed me, every second of every day. But when you were old enough to fight back, to put an end to it... it made things easier." He explained, he hung his head. "I hated myself for not just killing her and taking you somewhere safe. But there was nowhere safe."

Michael let out a breath, her heart breaking for a person she had never met, the other side of herself in another universe. She wanted to find that little girl and hold her, save her. Be the mother she deserved.

"And did we have a more intimate relationship?" She asked and he let out a shaky breath and she had her answer.

"Yes. Would you believe me if I told you we never had sex?"

Michael wanted to laugh at him, but she relied on what he had said before; that he had never lied to her.

"Then what was it?"

"A connection," he began coming to her again. "There were so many times I wanted to give up and run away but you kept me in my place. Kept me alive. We were all we had."

"You loved me?" She whispered and he nodded.

"More than a father should love a daughter and for that I am ashamed of."

Gabriel reached out to her.

"Take my hand, I... I know you'll feel it." He said vaguely. She swallowed thickly, and hesitantly placed her palm in his. His fingers curled around her smaller hand, drawing her in. Closing her eyes she did feel something. It was hard to describe. But it was there, an electricity coursing between them binding and connecting them.

His chest was firm against her own, his breathing sharper, her own quick and uneven. She felt her belly quiver as his fingers trailed up the side of her waist.

"Why didn't we have sex?" She knew the question was ridiculous to ask at a time like this. Their people, both sides, needed them now. But the world was ending and neither of them seemed to care. And besides, she hoped she already knew the answer.

"After everything that monster put you through I couldn't do that to you, Michael." He said against her cheek. "I didn't want you like that when you were a kid. I'm a womanizer, I'm not a rapist. And besides, you deserved better."

Michael had always felt an attraction to him, one she couldn't understand or put into words because it had always gone beyond the physical. It lingered and annoyed her. It teased her in her dreams that she wouldn't admit to anyone. Perhaps that was their bond crossing universes, his undying love for her despite his own faults.

The compartment shook, forcing Michael deeper into his arms, he wrapped them around her, anchoring her to himself. She was overwhelmed by his scent, his warmth, the strength in his arms and his broad chest. She felt his lips against her ear but he wasn't kissing her, the stubble on his chin at her temple near her eye.

"Did you ever kiss me?" She asked him pulling away. He frowned.

"Why does that matter?"

"Please. It's scientific." She answered and he cracked a smile, blood still dry at the bridge of his nose and the side of his head.

"Once." He answered honestly. "The last time I saw you."

"It was a goodbye." She finished for him. He sighed and nodded, minutely.

"I promised I'd find you again."

Without thinking, putting aside her logic and listening to her intuition, she raised herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

The shock was powerful, instant, and quaking.

She felt what her mirror self had felt... sadness, grief, longing, anger, love all in a single kiss. It was true. It was all true.

Michael tore herself away from him, pressing a hand to mouth like his lips had burned her, branded her with an invisible seal. So much more had crossed universes than just mere bodily vessels.

"Oh my god." She whispered. A hand touched her back, turning her, taking her face in his strong, battle worn hands.

"I love you, Michael." Before she could answer it was now his turn to kiss her, the way he had wanted to. The way she wanted him to. Thoroughly and passionately.

The bulkhead became her shore and he was the waves crashing down on her uneven rocks. He hoisted her into his arms, she knew he must be exhausted and in terrible pain and yet he stayed for her. She reached for him as he did for her. She didn't know what or who to believe anymore.

"Stay like this," He whispered against her mouth before kissing her again. "We can stay like this forever." The words were mumbled between kisses; as she ran her hands through his hair, as she held onto him like he was holding her back from falling off a cliff.

How could a kiss evoke so much from one person? Her body was on fire, her hands were shaking but determined to touch him everywhere. His own hands roamed freely abroad her body, unclipping her breast plate and bringing it over her head and shoulders until it clattered to the floor.

Another shackle broken.

She looked smaller as he ran his hands from her small, rounded shoulders to her waist, keeping her firmly against the bulkhead with his wide, male hips.

Gabriel Lorca had always been extremely male; dominating and potently virile. She couldn't help but wonder what his counterpart must be like, and if they were always meant to meet... no, those kinds of thoughts made her get lost in an endless forest of 'what-if's?'.

But this man before her, who observed her with deliberate eyes, was everything she now knew she had been missing.

It was a shame that knew she deep down they were never meant to be together.

"Where are you?" He whispered against her cheek.

"This isn't going to end well." She said, knowingly. He sighed and planted her back onto her feet.

"I know. Maybe some of your Federation romanticism washed off on me." He joked, but within the thin threads of his humor she could hear the minor crack in his voice.

Gabriel ran a finger down from her temple to her jawline. It sent shivers through her body, she could feel him shudder as she pressed herself against him.

"I don't want to go back out there." He admitted.

"Don't die." She said, and she tried to sound strong but the words broke apart in her mouth.

"Shh." He rubbed her back and he kissed her forehead.

Suddenly there seemed no time to say everything she wanted to say. The words tumbled from her mouth, they made no sense, they were ridiculous, they were innate, but she said them anyway,

"I don't think you're a monster. I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm sorry-"

"Michael. It doesn't matter anymore." He promised, doing everything in his power to reassure her. To guide her in the same direction of light she had done for him.

"Kiss me again." She whispered.

Michael didn't have to wait long. He took her chin between his fingers and guided her mouth back to his. Exploring her mouth with his tongue he groaned as her own met his. Her hand slid to his ass, pulling him harder against her.

He knew he should put a stop to this, it was wrong and selfish when people were dying outside this very room. But Michael was right. He would never hold her again after this.

The world was on fire with blood and pain and he didn't care. He just wanted Michael.

First he was her lord protector, then he was her shield from afar, a father she never had and he never considered himself an apt role model. It was only when they were faced with death and the certainty they were never going to see each other again did he finally realize how he felt about her.

And in truth, it sickened him. He had seen her grow up as a younger man, he had seen the hell she was forced to live in day by day, in the close quarters of the emperor. He had hated himself for falling in love with her.

Those humiliated, depressed and fearful child eyes always reminded him of his failings as a father. It was through Michael he wanted to be better and through her he remembered he never could be.

He had drowned his sorrows in alcohol and women. Drinking and fucking his way through life until he felt numb. Trying to scrurge the rot from his soul. And it never worked.

What kind of man falls in love with the abused and the subjected? He wasn't a good man at all. Not the kind of man she deserved. He never would be.

How many wrong turns did he have to take until he ended up on the right path? He wanted to stay in her universe with her forever... he wanted... he wanted...

There was no time for the proper way he wished he could make love to her, he had never had the desire to make love to anyone. But he wanted her to know the extent and the depth of his devotion to her.

"We don't-" he started but she shook her head, silencing him with a look. She always had the power to do that.

"I want you. Here, now, with the world crumbling down all around us." She told him passionately, breathlessly, hugging him closer and folding herself into him.

The arrangement was not what he had hoped for but if this was to be their only night together he would take it and cherish it. It might be his last happy memory.

Gabriel was seated as she removed the lower layers of her clothing. Shaking but she wasn't afraid. This was her man, her protector in this life and the next. The voice inside that had been searching and looking for her. A journey that had seemed endless now brought to a close, the final chapter, epilogue incarnate.

Michael straddled his waist, holding his sturdy shoulders for balance. She trembled when she felt his hot, engorged flesh pressed against the opening between her legs.

"Hey," he whispered. "Look at me. Just me."

It began as a delicate exploration of two souls and slowly exceeded either of their expectations. His grip on her hips was bruising as it was exciting, Michael thought again of how it felt like a brand. But if his touch was a brand to her, then her imprint on him was like a birthmark; there from the beginning and would remain until the end.

Michael cried out, reaching for a shelf above his head. He slowed his pace.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked, worriedly. She closed her eyes, sinking back down further onto his rigid length.

"No." She answered truthfully.

Gabriel pushed his back off where he was seated, holding her firmly in place, she couldn't move. His thrusts slow and meaningful.

"Are you close?" He whispered against her mouth, she nodded, unable to answer but also unable to break from his gaze.

The air left her lungs, her throat dry and coarse, as he snapped his hips upward inside of her; stimulating every inch of her.

"Gabriel." She moaned, her hands on his neck, kissing him soundly as she felt herself reach her peak.

He groaned hard from his chest as she collapsed against him, weightless and boneless. He couldn't stop now, powerfully marking her with his seed as it rushed out of him, cutting him and relieving him.

Gabriel kissed her gently, rolling her tongue over with his own as they breathed deeply and enjoyed the silence of the compartment before the reality of what was happening outside came back to haunt them once more.

"We have to go." He reminded her and she nodded. But she didn't want this moment to end. She knew once they stepped outside that door nothing would be as it was in that moment.

But all things must end.

X

He broke his promise and he died. Michael had had enough mourning to last a lifetime. He didn't die on his knees, he died in her arms, a painful laugh tickling his throat. Raising a hand and brushing away a tear from her face.

And then, if matters weren't strange enough, he told her his secret. He whispered, in his last moments, where to find him.

It was a moon far away from any inhabited planet, far from life and Federation outposts. There was no guard, no lock and key. Michael had been lead to believe that the fact was when one person from her universe crossed over to the other, there must be an inevitable switch. One must take the other's place. And yet he had somehow managed to take not only himself but the real Starfleet Lorca to safety as well?

It was an abandoned medical facility at the beginning of Starfleet's exploration into deep space. It hadn't been used in almost ninety years. It lay quiet and cold, floating in the void forgotten except in a meager data entry in an archive.

The away team had been astonished to find him in a medically induced coma, quite healthy, and dreaming.

The new MO couldn't explain it. He was in near perfect health, if not a little underweight from only receiving fluids by robotic assistant. They could only place a single word to it: miracle.

Michael had a hard time arguing with the medical officer. It didn't stop her from standing watch every chance she had. The crew didn't know what to think.

This wasn't the captain they had served with, he was technically a stranger to them.

Michael hoped... she prayed.

When he woke Michael wasn't there, she was on duty. And the MO announced the news from sickbay to the bridge, Saru and she had shared a look. She shook her head, she couldn't go and face him. Saru was acting captain, it was his call. He went and she stood looking out into nothingness. She could only imagine how Captain Lorca would take the news.

X

"I had the strangest dream," Gabriel began. "But now this acting captain Saru tells me it wasn't a dream at all. I did meet myself. I did lose my crew. I think I'm in shock. I've been close to death before. I beat it every time but that ambush... I was sure it was the end."

Michael listened, her heart pounding in her chest, but her exterior was calm.

"So you're Michael Burnham," he said with a smile that was all too familiar. "Didn't think we'd ever meet."

"I thought we already had." She mused sadly. She lowered her eyes, she couldn't tell him.

"I remember giving the order to abandon ship but it was too late," he continued. "Something happened... my science officer said we were in bound for a collision course but that was impossible. There was nothing out there except the Klingons."

"It must have been the other Buran." She concluded. He nodded.

"My thoughts exactly." He decided. "The whole crew..."

"Yes. I'm sorry." She offered and he shook his head.

"They were good people. A fine crew. The best." His eyes filled with tears, his teeth clenched as he spoke.

"I'm sorry." She repeated, not knowing what else to say.

"How do you fit into all this?" He asked her, she met his eyes and he frowned. "Burnham?"

"I... I shouldn't have come." She rose but felt something familiar, something strong grip her wrist. Words were at the tip of his tongue but they became mute in his throat when his hand touched her skin.

"Who are you to me, Burnham? Why were you on this ship?" He finally asked.

"No one. We've never met before today, technically." She said, trying to give him the brush off. She used to be good at that. Now...

"Don't do that," he commanded. "You're important somehow. Beyond your mutiny you're on this ship for a reason and Commander Saru informed me it was my counterpart who needed you here. It's more than that though. More than overthrowing a vicious dictator. Isn't it?"

Gabriel's grip on her wrist relaxed, gentled. She shuddered and he felt it.

"It doesn't matter who I was to him," she said. "That part of the story is over."

Michael's wrist slipped entirely from his grasp as she walked out of sickbay, tears in her ears, avoiding contact with everything around her.

It wasn't until he sought her out that she began to fully understand the cosmic connection between the two of them.

"You're the only one who can give me a glimpse into what I missed." He explained to her.

"I believe Commander Saru has been quite thorough in that regard." She replied.

Shaking his head, he sighed and looked at her with those piercing eyes. Why had his counterpart sent her to him? His last shot at redemption? Saving and returning a man whose life he stole back to the safe hands of the Federation... or was it for her hands he delivered him to her?

"I mean an intimate peek inside," he said. "Who I hurt, who I... what I did."

"It wasn't you."

"Can I ask a personal question without any Vulcan deflection?" He asked and she mulled it over, she wished he wouldn't. But despite the circumstances he still outranked her.

"Vulcans don't deflect." she countered.

"We both know that isn't true." He joked in good humor. Then he became serious again. "Were we... involved?"

Michael's stomach clenched. She couldn't tell him.

"Why would you be involved with a mutineer?" She asked.

"Why would a man travel to another universe to bring you back with him?"

They were getting nowhere. It reminded her of meeting the other Captain Lorca for the first time.

"To overthrow a dictator, as you said in sickbay." She reminded him and he took a step towards her and she moved back, he had his answer.

"A man with the power of a rebellion at his beck and call doesn't leave his followers for no good reason." he said thoughtfully. Why did the room suddenly feel so warm and constricting?

"Then why does he?" She dared to ask. Another step, she backed further away, playing into his hand without meaning to. The two Lorca's she knew were more alike than she realized. They could leave her paralyzed with those eyes...

"Two reasons: he's a coward," he paused, another step and she had nowhere to go.

"And the other?"

"He's in love."

The room became thick was tension, Lorca's science lab where he honed his craft, rarely used now and one she sought out when she needed to be away from everything around her. She swallowed and downcast her eyes.

"Were we?"

"You're very direct." Michael commented.

"Was he?" She nodded.

"You're not in love with me," she said shaking her head, still unable to look at him. "So why does it matter?"

"Because I saw your face in my dreams and I can't stop thinking about you since I saw you in sickbay."

"Nightingale syndrome." She said dryly.

"Vulcans don't deflect?" He asked and she sighed.

"I am not Vulcan."

Gabriel planted a hand on the bulkhead beside her, boxing her in, finally giving her no way out. She would have to stay and talk, no more deflections, no more hiding. But she couldn't tell him... he had already figured it out. Leaning in he lifted her hand in his own. They both inhaled as the touch seemed to increase the particles in the room around them.

"He sent you to find me," he whispered, even though there was no one else in the lab. Michael nodded. "Destiny."

She laughed weakly.

"Do you feel it?" He asked, his alternate had asked something similar.

"Yes." She said with a shaky breath.

"Me too." He rolled her hand against his chest, over his heart.

"Did I kiss you?" He asked and Michael couldn't believe he was asking this, when she had only days ago asked a similar question.

Scientific, she had called it.

Fate... destiny, things that were always meant to be bound together by the mysterious threads and strands of the universe. Interwoven, weaved together into a tapestry of events that were always meant to happen. People destined to always meet.

"Why are you asking?" She trembled.

"Because," his voice deeper, his body closer, the heat radiating off of him. "If I feel this way just holding your hand..." he trailed off, until finally their lips were inches apart.

Michael fought not to close her eyes.

"Did I?" He asked again.

"Yes."

When their lips met it was like the calm before the storm, until there was lightning and thunder. Until the storm swept them both away because some things were meant to be.

"How is this possible?" He asked her breathlessly when he pulled back, but not far away. Never far.

"I don't know. It shouldn't be." She said, weakly attempting to put some space between them but failing when he struck her with another kiss. He was devouring her, possessing her. It was wrong, it was good. It was right and terrible.

The strength and vigor he exuded seeped into her bones, dwarfing the voice inside of her to put a stop to this.

"We shouldn't. It's... confusing." She pleaded as he trailed his lips down her neck, kissing her like a starved man. But isn't this why he had sent her to find him in the first place? Because he knew he would need her... they would need each other.

"It's fucking complicated as all holy hell." He admitted against her throat, but that didn't stop him from sliding a thigh between her legs, she moaned hot against his mouth as she planted her core firmly down on him.

"Christ, I've felt you before," he whispered against her skin. "I've known this before."

Michael felt what he was feeling, she had felt the same way the first time she kissed Gabriel in that compartment when the world was ending and it was just the two of them; she had felt her counterpart's pain and longing and love. Now this Gabriel was feeling that too.

What kind of strange cosmic divine could do this? It wasn't logical.

"Ca-captain." She moaned, he slid his hand around her back, sliding it further down until he grasped her ass and kneaded her flesh through her trousers.

"Say my name." He whispered into her ear, panting and hard against her.

"Gabriel."

Why was this scene so familiar? A drafty, small room... mingled breath, thick with sexual tension, bursting with lust and flooding them and locking them in together.

"I want you," he said roughly, hoisting her up as he had done before, wrapping her in his arms and carrying her to a table.

"Please." She whimpered. Gabriel removed her boots before grasping her trousers in his large hands and pulling them down her hips and off her legs, settling himself between her thighs without a single protest from her.

Bending over he kissed her stomach, running his tongue over slick skin. Moving upright again he pulled her to the edge of the table, her legs tightening around his waist.

"Do you want me?" He asked her, his eyes searching hers. "I'll stop if you say. I'll... fucking bow to you if you asked."

The parallel was not lost on her... his counterpart would've thought differently to bowing to anyone. But perhaps she would always be the one thing that changed the definitions of the man, no matter what universe he was split from.

Michael grasped his face in her hands and brought his mouth to hers.

"I want you." She said quietly.

Michael felt him reach between them, she felt his hard length sliding between her legs, gliding across her and setting her on fire. It felt the same, it was the same. The blunt head of his cock teased her opening gently, then concentrated the impact to its rightful destination.

Gabriel groaned with his face in her chest, kissing her skin through the fabric of her shirt. She pushed his own jacket off his shoulders, sitting up as he began to thrust deeply and slowly inside of her.

"Hold me." He moaned in a husky voice, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her elbows knocking against her knees, she bent herself as he planted his feet more firmly before delving into her at an increased pace.

"Ye...yes." She mewled, nearly weeping from the sensations, from the emotion, from the passion.

From the man.

"I know this," he said almost in disbelief. "I know this."

"I feel it too." She acknowledged.

It went on, she didn't know how long. She didn't keep track of the minutes or seconds that ticked by as they rutted inside the science lab surrounded by some of the deadliest weapons in the galaxy.

The air was thick with the smell of their sex, their bodies raw and perspiring against one another. Perhaps she was needed elsewhere... perhaps he was needed for another exam. It didn't matter. She knew what it was like to make love when the world was ending, knowing it wasn't now didn't cheapen it any less. It invigorated her further.

Gabriel brought her legs closer to her chest, pressing them together at the knees as he seemed to senselessly drive himself into her, forcing himself deeper inside her than she knew was possible.

Michael couldn't stop the broken moans that escaped her lips, it was the most intense pleasure she had ever felt. And it only continued to build. To the point where it splintered between an unholy, beautiful cocktail of pain and pleasure.

The look on his face seemed to tell a similar story. He was not holding back, he was giving her his all. He chiseled his lower lip in his teeth as he claimed her, taking what he wanted and giving her all she desired. He would give her anything she wanted.

He knew why a man cut from his own cloth had gone to hell and back for her.

"Ah... oh." She clenched her teeth and pressed a hand to his chest, he stopped. "It's... too much. This angle." She told him before he could speak. He nodded and repositioned her legs, wrapping them firmly about his waist, he took her in his lap, seating himself at the edge of the table with his feet still on the floor.

"How's that?" He whispered against her mouth, her tongue slithering out to tease his lips. He moaned softly as she wiggled her hips against him; she felt powerful and yet totally at his mercy, suspended in his arms, connected together below the waist.

"It's good... so good." She encouraged and he lifted his hips to meet her, roughly smacking into her body as she held onto his strong arms.

"Yeah?" He said, emboldened by her responsiveness. "Are you going to cum?"

She nodded eagerly, meeting his thrusts without delay.

"Please... please, don't stop." She begged feebly.

Michael never wanted him to stop... it was too much and yet not enough.

"Fuck, Michael, you're... you're perfect." He found himself stumbling over the words, his stomach was clenching and he felt his orgasm approaching. He was going to cum inside her, plant his seed in her, claim her as his.

They were of an equal kind, she and he. He felt it in whatever soul he had. He couldn't explain it. He had never met Michael Burnham before a few days ago and yet he felt like he had already spent a lifetime with her. Was it the residual effects of some cosmic trickster? How was any of this possible?

How was it possible that when he looked into her eyes he saw stars, memories, hope... love.

How was it that she made him want to give up his principles and fall completely into her arms with one look.

"Fuck yourself on me, cum for me." He ordered, halting his own thrusts to give himself more time. Although the flutter of her sex, her breathy moans and the smell of her almost undid him.

Michael worked herself on him, chasing her pleasure, until she caught it. She pressed her face into his neck as she felt her orgasm overpower her, her insides twitching and delivering shock after shock of spiraling pleasure.

Gabriel took the opportunity to gently soothe her back, while alternating between deep, hard thrusts, holding her tightly to him until she couldn't move. Until he came with a loud yell, spilling himself inside her, ignoring the wrong and sinful way he relished in knowing he made her cum from just his cock.

That she might feel so hollow and empty without him inside her nearly kept him hard.

And here they were, laid low before each other in the euphoria of their carnal embrace.

What was there to say now? Michael knew she couldn't bare losing him again, it wouldn't do.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, he pulled his jacket on, leaving it unzipped, his brow furrowed.

"I don't know what I am." She said blankly, her trousers remained undone, hanging on her hips.

She felt his hands again on her face, turning her to look at him. She did without shame.

"We'll figure it out, together." He promised.

Moving to the door they both had made themselves presentable again. She took his hand as they stood there, holding it loosely but with meaning.

To Michael, he was the highest tree branch she had ever climbed, now she looked down at the world below; unable to make the descent, unwilling to move from her high point.

"I don't want to." She said to him, he understood her meaning.

"Neither do I."

Michael kissed him again. Once they walked through those doors they were back to Captain and specialist. Back to strangers because to everyone else they were. She wasn't ready to let go.

"Hey," he said, soothingly. "I'm here, Michael. I'm not going anywhere."

Michael closed her eyes. The last moments of his life, dying in her arms, flashed before her.

"Find me..."

And she did.

AN: I am aware we have no idea where this show is going, but I love the theories and metas. And I refuse to stop writing when inspiration strikes : ) I hope I'm doing my part on keeping this ship alive.