I arrived at the client's door somewhere around eleven. I had been instructed to let myself in and that my client will be waiting inside. I shouldn't have been surprised by the room they had given her, but I was. Her hotel room was large, lush and only used by the highest standing guests to Starfleet. Rarely do they spend that amount of attention on their own. But her arrival had been the happiest surprise to fall out of orbit in years.
"Perhaps" they thought " perhaps she will bring a new hope and trust into Starfleet. Perhaps she will guide the people of the Federation back to us."
She was to be buttered up and pampered. She was to be the star of the show and they wanted their star happy. She was to be showered in amenities in hope that she would be distracted enough that her seven year trauma would not reflect in her features and break the allusion of an overjoyed Starfleet angel. I was to be one of the amenities.
For years, I had worked in what they call "The Oldest Profession". I was the gateway to the animal that lives in all of us. My services allowed people to induldge their deepest primal urge. I specialized in the shaken and the lonely. I was the gentle, intimate hand that soothed the wounded, growling beast. As a Betazoid, I was able to better understand when to touch, when to speak, when to listen and when to exit. I had spent enough time with enough clients to know what they needed long before they did. I was very good, the best in fact, and that is why I found myself standing in the hotel room of Starfleet's newest shining jewel.
I was about to open my mouth to call out my presence and to reveal where she had been hiding when I heard a light splash. Good. She was already starting to relax.
"Hello?" I call out.
She doesnt respond in kind but I hear the sound of water and I follow suit. I arrive at the bathroom door which was ajar, I lightly knock before slowly entering. She was lounging in a deep tub with bubbles covering her well enough. There was an empty bottle of champagne tipped over on the floor near the sink and a half-eaten platter of cheese sat on the ledge of the tub. Her eyes were closed but as soon as I repeated my greeting her eyes slowly opened and I was greeted by a rather intense stare for someone who was half asleep.
"Well you certainly are not champagne nor are you strawberries" she states dully
"Afraid not" I reply bemused
"Do you work for the hotel?"
"No"
"Do you work for Starfleet?"
"Not exactly."
She scrutinizes me for a moment before a realization dawns on her.
"Courtesy of Admiral Paris I assume."
I nod. She chuckles.
"Those Paris boys. They certainly like the finer things in life."
"Indeed."
She examined me, looked me up and down.
"How old are you?"
"Does it matter?"
An eyebrow quirked up in response. She was drunk but not to far gone. I assume she was able remember that night but possibly not with fondness.
"How long are you….scheduled?"
"I'm yours for the night."
"I'm not very proficiant in…." she jestered to herself and then to me.
I smile. She was unsurprisingly meek when it came to addressing her own sensuality. That's how brass are. They can command the outer world with grace but when it comes to themselves they are unsure and unassuming.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to. We could just talk. I could make you a meal or I can simply leave. This night is yours."
"The night is mine…" she said more to herself
"Anything you want"
"I don't know what I want" she laughed "I don't say that very often"
"Oh I'm sure"
She began to sit up slightly and let out a pained grunt.
"Damn" she grumbled
She had technically been on the battlefield for seven years straight, only to spend what I would guess ten to twelve hour days in debriefings in those painfully uncomfortable military issued chairs. Her body must have been screaming.
"I can help with that"
She considered it. She shifted again clearly trying to cover herself.
"If you sit up facing the wall I wont see anything"
She debated with herself, she wanted to argue but her body was demanding the help. She turned from me and I approached her.
"Where does it hurt"
"Where doesn't it hurt? But mostly from between my shoulder blades and down."
I knelt beside the tub. I reached to her and placed my hands against warm, slick skin. She jumped at my touch but after a pause she eased into my palm. I pressed my thumbs beside the knotches of her spine and followed the mucles down. Her back was beautiful, long, straight and strong. Captains always had great backs. A Captain must almost appear god like, they must remain above and so they must hold themselves tightly up right.
Its facinating how well the body adapts to the job. Security built big, their strength coming best from brute force. Engineers are well toned all around from crawling about jefferies tubes but their secret strength comes from a strong core and great legs. You have to hold yourself in up in precarious positions without any hands. Ops and pilots strength less obvious but they tended to have strong hands and great endurance.
Slowly, I kneaded away the knots tightly wound in her body. I pretended not to notice the barely glowing green veins leading to puncture wounds long since healed. I have heard of her many rumbles leadong to a grand finale with the Borg but I would not breathe a word to her about it. She sighed in relief and moaned softly when I hit areas with the most tension. I continued until she began to shudder. She's overwhelmed.
I reach for a hand towel near by and hand it to her.
"This is…not common…I…" she attempts to explain as she presses the cloth against her cheeks, blotting her tears "I'm so sorry…its…just getting back my earth legs."
"Touch can be an overwhelming experience. Especially when you have been deprived of it."
She pulled away slightly and I regret making her feel called out.
"I didn't mean to imply…" I began but my words faded away
She turned to me with a weak, crooked smile.
"It's fine" she replied in sincerety "You're not wrong"
"Returning is never easy"
"I adapted for seven years"
"There's a difference between adapting and assimulating."
"Assimulating…" she said to herself and I can hear a novel long story hidden beneath her words, a novel no one will ever read.
"Thanks" she said turning again to see me "I think I will be getting out now….would you mind?…"
"Of course"
I exited the bathroom quickly and listened to her movements as my eyes scanned the luxurious abode. I was somewhat surprised I had not been kicked out much sooner. But as she said, she was unsure of what she wanted and it seemed, for the moment, she didn't mind my company during the deliberation stage. I stepped into the common room, it was so spacious. I ran my hands over the smooth fabric of an emerald green couch. It felt plush and over stuffed in all the right ways. I gently fingered the glass tear drop bottle of whiskey that proudly wore a Starfleet insignia on it's label. The hotel room had quite the old school charm.
"To believe they expect one person to stay in a place like this" she half-snorted from the doorway.
I turned to her. She wore a long pale pink sleeping gown and matching robe. Her wet hair unceremonously framed her face. Her cheeks were red from alchohol and warm water. Her crooked smirk apologized to me for something I didn't know of.
"You look good in pink"
She looked down and lightly fingered the frayed cuff of her robe.
"I got it for a Christmas present from my sister before Voyager. It was far too…bold for my taste but I brought it along. You know why?"
To my guess it was her way of feeling human in a space where that was not allowed. But I just shook my head.
"Because my favorite pair of pajamas were in the wash and I was to lazy to get them when packing."
She then threw her head back and barked out a laugh. I chuckled. It seemed champagne had brought the mirth out of the ever stoic Kathryn. She smiled sheepishly and looked at me as she ran her fingers through her damp locks.
"How long are you here?"
"As long as you like"
"What do you expect of me?"
"Nothing."
"I don't like wasting time."
"You don't like being uncomfortable."
She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. My boldness had surprised her.
"How do these nights usually go?"
"It's different with each person" I say with a shrug
"Whats the median?"
I chuckle. Always the scientist when it comes to brass. They can only comprehend in numbers and fractions. Sadly, the nature of what we are can not be divided into comprehensable parts.
"Food. Booze and fornication."
"Well that just sounds like a date. What makes you so different?"
"No walls. No games. We know where we stand. We are free to just lose ourselves"
"Can we lose ourselves in some scrambled eggs?"
"That sounds wonderful"
I found myself sitting crossed legged across from a giddy Captain and a coffee table full of hot breakfast foods.
"I havn't been able to just replicate at a whim without mentally counting my rations and breakfast has been my drunk meal since my Acadamy days!" she informs me as she plunged her fork into a steaming yellow cloud. She slid her fork between thin pink lips and let out a moan, dramatically leaning against the table.
"You really are drunk" I chuckle
"I really am!" she giggled "If only my crew could see me now! They wouldn't believe it!"
She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth as she desolved into a fit of giggles. Usually, I would kindly just observe with a smile. But something about her carefree demeanor and how rare it must have been for her to loosen up made me laugh along with her.
"I know Tom Paris" I interject "He seems like he would have far too much fun with you like this."
"He would have a field day! Chakotay would too…" her glee deminished slightly, her smile faultered. The latter of the names had brought what I can only describe as the perfect essence of bittersweet.
"We could talk about him or not at all."
"Who?"
"The reason your laughter left."
She looked at me as if I had slapped her.
"I have crossed a line" I state as a wave of shame washed over the room.
"No" she states with a sigh "But why couldn't you be Bajoren?"
I look up to see a half hearted shrug. I realize the care free Kathryn will be gone soon. The woman sitting before me will return to her hidding place for quite some time and I still had a job to do.
"Have you been with a woman before?"
"Yes."
"Have you been with a woman seriously before?"
She takes another bite and mulls the thought over as she chews.
"She was…..a great source of comfort when I most needed it. But as for dinners in the Officers Lounge or moonlight sails? No, I guess we weren't serious in that sense."
"Do you like women?"
"I like women. I like men. I love connection. I especially love minds."
"So its not the body you like?"
"I like the body as well. How else will I get into your mind?"
She grins mischieviously and winks.
"Well?" she asks
"Well what?"
"Are you going to kiss me or should I kiss you?"
I let out a laugh. She was refreshing to say the least. She enjoyed the dance I play for many clients but she also didn't want to play a game. She charted a course through the waters where most usually just float with limp limbs.
"Its your night" I remind her gently "Whatever you want."
She reaches out and lightly cups my face into her palms. I'm pulled in and lips meet. She kisses me softly but with intention. I tasted champagne, eggs, laughter and sadness. Her thumb lightly brushed my cheek. My hand found the back of her neck as I invited her to go farther. Her teeth lightly niped my bottom lip. She leaned in slightly more until a thud emits from below us, she released to look down.
"Ugh" she replies in response to lovely silk robe smeared in scrambled eggs and syrup. We both stand.
"I'm sure we can get that out we just…" I offer
"Its nothing to worry about" she interjects "It's seen worse"
She attemps to wipe off the breakfast from the fabric but quickly gives up. She then unties the belt and slips off the garment all together. She looks up at me. I step aside and we meet without a glass boundry between us. Without hestitation she pulls me back in, we continue to kiss, I wrap my arms around her small waist. Her fingers find my hair. My fingers dance against her throat. She sways ever so slightly. I can sense her meriad of emotions, she never sticks to one. Her breath is warm but her heart is chilled. Not cold. But it has cooled like a warm beverage on a winter's day.
I go for a signature move, I placed a finger at the nape of her neck and with the lightest of touch, trace a line straight down her spin. She trembles and leans into me. I place my palm against the small of her back. Her emotional jumps pick up in pace. Her anxiety peaks and she breaks the kiss.
"Not the bed." she instructs breathlessly.
I sense her quick stab of pain but as our eyes meet it fades.
"Ok." I reply
I kiss her in the space below her ear and before the start of an exquisite jawline. She gasped and her nostalgia tasted so good. Her head leaned back and a deep moan erupts as I nip down her neck and across her collarbone. She fists my hair and pressed me into her skin. Her moans build in excitement and I can feel the vibrations against my lips. I had made it to the pulse point underneath her other ear and I latch on with out mercy. She yanks against my roots as her back arched and a leg slid up to my hip. There, her nerves are alive. She was slowly coming aflame. I could taste her sadness, a deep, relentless sadness, she shudders and as her body relaxed into me she falls effortlessly into the moment.
I fall with her, I cradle her in my arms and we fall. We fall into desire. We fall into weightlessness. We fall into demand. Her back against the rug was artwork. The pink silk falling to reveal sinewy thighs was music. The rise and fall of her chest as my hips introduced themselves to hers was the sun setting against the horizon.
I urged her with a gentle hand to fall more deeply and she obliged.
To be continued ;)
