Author's Note: Very first foray into writing for a fandom I've been in for years. Do hope you enjoy. ;)

Sylvia Tilly was excited.

This was why she had joined Starfleet, to make a name for herself, to have the chance to exhibit her strengths her skills. To prove that she was worthy of induction to the officer core. Perhaps this stealth mission was just what she needed to convince Command that, one day, she would be Captain material. After all, how many cadets had the opportunity to infiltrate the very, very off limits Klingon homeworld? Surely the Admiral and Michael had faith in her abilities to even let her go on this mission, Qo'noS was the mother of enemy territory and Federation people weren't exactly welcome and/or expected to leave still breathing. No, she was definitely good enough to beam down there, and darn it she was going to do a freaking good job while she was at it. And it wasn't like they were short on crew to pick from, no she had earned her place on the away team. An away team which consisted of two people in a very sad and confusing state of failing relationship. She worried about Michael, it was bad enough that she'd nearly been kidnapped in that terrifying other universe but her sort-of lover had turned out to be a sleeper agent. Not that Ash had agreed to that, poor man, but his new expertise on Klingons was a god-send now. Some folks said she had too big a heart, but she couldn't help but hope for a resolution - of any kind - for those two which ended up at least kind of harmonious.

One set of buckles down on her boots, one to go. She kept up the motions of getting dressed in an attempt her lightyear a minute thoughts. Michael was a specialist in darn near anything, Ash was an alien expert, the team had to use those skills to get out alive. Tilly was an engineer, it was her duty to carry, set and activate their secret weapon. Which was currently being held by the last member of their team. One former Emperor that Michael rescued from certain death. Said dictator happened to have the name and face of her former captain, it was must have been an easy decision to save her but still….the woman was scary. Apparently she had already defeated the Klingons ages ago in her own universe, and since they were losing the war here the Federation didn't have much choice in not employing her. Or so she had heard and surmised. So a spy, a supposed traitor turned savior, and a bloodthirsty tyrant walk into an Orian bar...Yep she was ready for this.

Just as soon as she figured out how this corset-thing worked.

The plan was to sneak into the trading post disguised as smugglers, get in to set the trap and get out. It had been a while since she had worn any kind of civies, not since her going away party after graduation. But even then she tended to lean more towards the comfortable than the fashionable. This….thing had it uses, maybe. There were hidden pockets for knives and grenades, a pouch for her communicator, and it certainly looked the part of a lady smuggler. Just like putting on the Imperial uniform except more revealing. Maybe she could put on a shirt underneath?

"Having some trouble with your costume?"

When had her door opened? How had it opened? There was a woman in her room, Tilly gulped.

"I just haven't had much...experience with this things," she stuttered. "How did you get in here exactly?" Oh yes, just question the dictator of the scariest place she'd ever been, how intelligent.

"I don't image so. This universe doesn't seem to have much in the way of…" Emperor Philippa Georgiou looked her over from head to toe and she wished she wasn't blocking the only way out. "Taste." Philippa took a step forward, Sylvia took one back. Not that this did her any good, her back hit the wall within three more steps.

"Well I don't really do much...much infiltration work. Not much use for corsets in engineering."

"That never stopped my Tilly." It was positively sinful the way her tongue wrapped around her name. She tried not to notice how her alto voice practically purred out 'my' in regards to her other self. The Emperor ran her fingers through her hair, newly straightened and still smelling of her favorite floral shampoo. "Much better. Those ridiculous curls just don't do you justice." Was she shaking in fear or something else? Did she even want to know the answer to that question?

"My mother would agree with you there." Idiot. Philippa smirked and the breath caught in her throat. She'd always admired Captain Georgiou, brave, honorable, noble beacon of the Federation. Tilly had read the reports on each and every one of her missions, followed her career and wished for the chance to meet such a remarkable woman one day. Admitting to herself that she might have spent a little too long staring at her picture still brought a flush to her cheeks. Any fool with eyes could see that Philippa was a gorgeous woman, all sharp features and piercing eyes. It was terrible that her Other self was all that and far more than should be allowed.

"Here, let me help you with that. We'll be working quite closely for the next several hours, we should be comfortable with one another."

Before she knew it, she was turned around, half pressed to the wall. Strong, sure hands at her shoulders held her in place. Her pulse sped up. This wasn't happening, it was to strange, these kind of things never happened to her.

"I'm sure I could….I'd eventually figure it out on my own," she managed to squeak. A shiver trickled down her spine as those hands fluttered down her back, following the curve of her body to rest on her waist. The Emperor took a step closer, until Sylvia felt her breath at the back of her neck.

"Is it not the Captain's duty and privilege to train her cadets for any and all situations? Am I not your acting Captain for this mission?" It might have been a simple set of questions, but her voice left no room for disagreement. And it was even worse that she was weak in the knees for that sort of commanding tone. "Are you going to answer me, cadet?" The hands on her waist gripped hard, bordering on the painful. She should call security, try to slip away and get out her reach, but she couldn't

"Yes, you are," she whimpered. Again, was she afraid or was the hitch in her words from something else, something darker? It had been so long since anyone had taken the time to learn her, really learn what she wanted. When was the last time she had the chance to give in, to let someone who knew how to take charge and use her? It wasn't fair. One glance from this...this terrifying woman and she was all but on her knees.

"Good," her lips brushed along the tender skin of her throat. "Now hold still as I get you laced up."

Cool hands stroked her own heated flesh, tracing along the edge of her leather pants, teasingly dipping below the waistline. Sylvia bit her lip and closed her eyes. Had anyone else noticed how at their first encounter, as the Emperor fondled her wayward curls she had flushed and nearly leaned into her hand? She prayed no one did, just as she prayed Michael wouldn't try to come into their shared quarters and find her like this. No one could ever know how her hands pressed against the wall as she tried to steady herself when Georgiou spread the corset open along her back, leaving goosebumps in her wake.

"My Tilly and I would do this often," her low voice echoed in the spartan room. "Our Empire is not so prudish as yours, and she had such a collection of enticing garments that would make even the Orion slaves blush." It was so difficult to concentrate on her words when those strong hands were drifting up the sides of her nearly bare torso, fingertips just barely grazing the underside of her breasts. "We created such lovely music together, did you learn that in your studies of my dimension?"

"No, no I didn't!" she gasped.

"Such a shame," Philippa tutted. "Here, you should brace yourself." Her legs were kicked into a wide stance, harsh and quick. She could feel the flush across her cheeks, down her whole body really. Embarrassed and shaking, what she now was afraid of was that this woman would notice just how wet she was fast becoming. Damn Georgiou, and damn her own traitorous body.

"Will, will it hurt?" What would be worse, or better, if the corset was constricted gently or forcefully around her?

"If you wanted that, I can easily accommodate that desire." Sharp nails bit into soft skin and Sylvia arched back into the Emperor's battle hardened body, a needy moan barely held back at the feel of her. "There you are, my Tilly" a dark chuckle accompanied a swift nip at her neck. "Such a shame we have not the time to play you like the pretty instrument you are. Next time, I assure you, we'll see how you sing."

She pushed her away. Her cheek pressed harshly against the cold metallic wall, her hands barely catching her fall. And the first of the laces cinched tight. At her gasp the woman playing with her laughed again, putting her knee into her back and pulling the leather taut.

"I...how are you…please?" She didn't even know what she was asking but she wanted something, something she couldn't name.

"Speak your needs, girl," she commanded. The corset drew in around her waist, turning her form into a forced hourglass shape that set off her wide hips. This must have pleased the Emperor because she took the time to run a hand along them, cupping her ass and giving it a harsh squeeze.

"Tighter...please," her voice was barely above a whisper but her words were still heard.

"Oh I intend to. We need you ready for our mission, after all."

Leather on her warm skin was an indulgent feeling. When the laces were pulled tight around her chest and tied off, her breathing was labored but she could not find it in herself to complain. Again she found that harsh grip at her shoulders, this time turning her around and damn near slamming her to the wall again. Dark eyes looked her over, she hoped they liked what they saw. One finger moved along the edge of the corset, scratching a thin red line along the tops of her breasts. Tilly mewled and fought to gain some sense of her sanity.

"Such a shame I could not have arrived sooner," Philippa tilted her head and watched her with a predator's gaze. The hand at her hip drew them in closer, until the other woman was caging her in, towering over her if not in height but in presence and command. Her face dipped in close, until scant millimeters separated her lips from her own. "All trussed up and nowhere to go, my Tilly." If she had any kind of answer to that she wasn't given the moment to utter it. Her words and her lips were captured in a kiss that sent electricity through every inch of her body. One hand buried itself in her hair, now free of its curls so that Philippa could easily grip it and bend her neck for her demanding kiss. Her tongue pushed past her lips, tasting her mouth and drawing a desperate moan from her in reaction. Sylvia instantly wrapped her arms around her lithe form, pulling her in as closely as she could. With her legs still spread wide, it was easy for the Emperor to slip her thigh between them and rock against her sex. It wasn't fair. She shouldn't be like this. But damn it all she didn't have it in her to stop.

"Bridge to Cadet Tilly, the away team is preparing for departure. Report to the transport bay immediately," the computer broke through the haze of lust and shattered the moment. Growling, Georgiou pulled away and stepped back, adjusting her clothes and hair. Tilly damn near fell down to her knees gasping and panting.

"Yes! I'll-I'll be right there!" she answered, her breathing labored from far more than her constricting disguise.

"Bridge out."

Silence. She looked at the other woman, cold and beautiful, and bit her lip. What had just happened? Had she really…?

"It seems duty calls, cadet," she said as she smoothed down her ebony hair. "It seems you have still have a costume to complete, I suggest you get to it."

"I...yeah...sure, right on it." Tilly hurried to her bed where the rest of her smuggler clothing was laid out, a long black coat and several layers of mismatched items she didn't bother to categorize. With her back to the other woman, she busied herself with the mundane task hoping she would draw her back down to sense. But the hand that lightly griped the back of her neck and ran down her corseted spine, drew her instantly back into that confusing state of indulgence.

"And when we are done, I hope to continue our acquaintance. Don't you?" With that, Philippa Georgiou, acting captain, former dictator, made her way out. Just before leaving, she looked over her shoulder, winked with a lovely and cruel smile on her lips, and vanished down the hall. The doors hissed shut and Tilly stood alone.

"Holy shit."