This is my captor. Through some damnable cosmic occurrence I have fallen right into her hands. Now she's destroyed the Array – the one chance we had of getting home. B'Elanna is furious with her, and with me for allowing it to happen. Some part of me went along with it, I guess. This damned Starfleet Dudley-Do-Right way of operating was drilled into me at the Academy and like Pavlov's dog, I obey without question.
I try to summon hatred for my captor. It will not come; it will not gell within me. She may be in charge here, but I feel the vulnerability in her; a petite woman with a big heart determined to run things. Something in me knows we're gonna be butting heads for seventy years. The Maquis way and the Starfleet way are as night and day. I don't know if I can be subordinate to her.
I stand here, towering over her; the faint aroma of pear glacae assailing my nostrils; she moves and it wafts over me, undermining my hatred. Her blue eyes drill into mine, arousing sensations long forgotten. She moves purposely, determined to make things work. I find myself respecting her in spite of myself. She could be the one to fill my soul. If I'm not careful I'll fall in love, for my heart has long despaired of finding anyone like her. She will not cling like Seska. She won't cast longing glances like B'Elanna. She will stand firm until the day I decide to take her. I don't know what her reaction will be when I do. She could resist, forcing me to hold her to the bed. She could coldly refuse my advances and turn haughtily away, wounding my pride. Or…she could submit willingly to me, becoming the Maquis Captain's Woman.
How will it end?
-oOo-
How did it end? She became my Captain. Her loyalty and devotion won me over. She embraced my crew; made my hot-headed engineer her own. That alone would have won me to her side, but something else about her captured my heart along with the rest of me. Perhaps the knowledge that her loved one was a lifetime of years away from her made her so lonely that she was unconsciously drawn to me. Whatever the reason, in time, we became a formidable team. Oh yes, there were head-butting sessions, and despite my advice, she seldom backed down. If she had a failing, it was damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, as an ancient saying went. I stood by her, right or wrong, blessed or damned. And as time went by we grew close.
Starfleet regulations still give me a pain in the neck. Doing as I pleased in the Maquis included having an affair with anyone I chose. The crew didn't give a damn – in fact, they often envied me. Here, it's another story. No fraternization among the crew, especially between the officers. All right, Starfleet, here's a question for you: has any other starship in the Alpha Quadrant ever experienced this? Are we to remain in secular limbo for seventy years? Come on. Human nature has rules of its own, far older than those of Starfleet. My bet is plenty of the crew have already bedded together on the sly, because the records can't show any evidence of this most basic human need. They expect us to live like that android I heard about that was assigned to the flagship. I'm willing to bet about the others because she who is my Captain has drawn closer to me and has accepted me, willingly. Trust, subtle advances, soft touches, discreet whispers, a stolen moment behind a bulkhead…those were the tools I used to make her mine. I succeeded in allaying her fears and soothing her loneliness, and she came to me like a moth to a flame.
She lies beside me now, sleeping, and I will let her rest and watch her soft bosom rise and fall in the rhythm of life, until I must wake her in the early hours to return to her quarters. Security normally does not monitor private quarter corridors unless called, so we're safe. Her commbadge is here in case she's summoned. We feel secure in our deception and feel no shame in it, for we are both hungry for something not to be found in Neelix's Mess Hall. We can better govern this vessel if we are filled. We manage to project complete professionalism on the bridge and wherever anyone can see us, but behind closed doors, our time is our own.
She is a tiger in bed. Something in me felt that, and I anticipated our first coupling with quivering anxiety, hoping I could be all that she wanted and needed. I must have succeeded, for she sleeps so soundly, I wonder if I can wake her. I remember thinking as we stood glaring at each other at that first meeting that I would one day take her. Hell, she turned the tables and took me. I was never so astonished in my life. I could barely feel her slight body as it rested on mine, like a feather, but deceptively strong and forceful. I was completely in her power. Despite my urge to turn her to the bed and overpower her, I could not. She held me in the palm of her hand.
So it ends, and I don't think it emasculates me to follow her to the end of our days, whether or not we ever reach home. My heart is hers, and no power in the universe can prevent us from being…as one.
The End