Profound Cause
By Zuzu Petal
The jig was up, the game was over.
She knew who he was now. She knew his real face, his real name, it wasn't different but it had an unfamiliar taste. The weight of it was heavier and denser. A thick fog had surrounded them...
It had never been a game to him though. He wanted to tell her he came back for her. It was always for her.
That her counterpart had almost been convinced to join in the rebellion, but she had never been able to answer. Her body swallowed in an explosion as she gasped for air in her last moments, alone and afraid. Without anyone to offer comfort... without him.
And when he awoke, a stranger in a strange land, unfamiliar waters all around him, he had played the part well.
There had been no need for him to face psych evals when there was nothing wrong with him; this other version of himself.
Nothing their primitive Starfleet doctors could uncover. He was clinically depressed if he had to guess, but that was hidden easily enough.
The love of his life was murdered in front of him by one of his supporters and he was forced to leave her behind and he ended up here... or there, now.
The total destruction of his ship didn't help either. But he had faced worse than this before. It had always been worse in his universe; every moment was a test, every breath could be his last, you never quite learned to live with it... until he didn't have to anymore.
Every moment he thought of her, every moment those glassy eyes that spoke volumes in her final seconds of life: they said many things to him in the dead of sleep, encased in his nightmares.
Betrayer, traitor, liar, murderer... turncoat.
He had resigned himself to never knowing her like again. How faint their time had been, how short yet it had given him a new reason to breathe when it could be his last. Instead of fighting for his own survival, he fought for theirs. And there was no way he saw them surviving their world under a cruel, merciless and imperialistic emperor.
Gabriel didn't believe in destiny until he was recuperating and heard her name spoken; but it was out of context, out of sync and yet completely in concert with everything else.
His eyes were still recovering, he had been blinded by the injury and bandages. But he heard her name: Commander Michael Burnham.
Mutineer, heroic in her glory days as a first officer of this Starfleet and their Federation. Turned outcast and prisoner, public enemy number one.
No, this was destiny that he would find her again. That they would find each other. He just needed to persaud destiny, give it a little nudge and point it in the right direction.
Yes, he had moulded events and played puppet master. But his intentions had never been evil. He didn't see himself as a good man but he didn't see himself as a villain either.
It had taken him great personal strides not to constantly look over his shoulder in this new world. He refused to let his guard down, though. Even in his new private quarters, safety did not exist. He had been spun headfirst into a new universe, where war was forgotten until it became a part the daily Un-Terran way of life.
These people did not know war as he did.
But perhaps she did? He had meant what he had told her when they first met, that she had a predictive sense of danger. Perhaps that was a lingering part of her other self that was dead, bits of her floating in space cold and forgotten by all but him.
Now... now was different. Now he was back, but now he had her by his side. Manipulated, but how could he have told her the truth?
And it was this that she asked him in the present, now when all was said and done.
"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"
Gabriel cast his eyes downward; it didn't matter what universe they were in, she was the only one he allowed his guard to lower to. The draw bridge to his confidence and cock-sure persona was null and void as soon as her eyes met his.
"It... it's not that it wasn't an option," he explains grimly. "It's that I couldn't tell you one part without the other. And that leads to complications."
"You were lovers." She says matter of factly. He wished the words sounded different, not Vulcan or scientific. He wished they sounded... charming, even fanciful. But that was his Michael. And this Michael was very different.
But he loved her all the same. Two women, both the same and yet inherently different.
Inexplicably contrary. Two sides of the same coin, constantly turning and changing and yet always together. One body, two minds, the same heart he loved. His Michael always had the power to turn the tide, to possibly see beyond war and conquering. But there had been little hope in her.
This Michael... she exudes it, it was damn near contagious.
"Yeah." He answers with a breath.
There was a beat, she moves to the viewing screen in his ready room. Although, it would most likely not be his any longer once they returned to their normal space... her space.
"I understand," he begins slowly. "What you have to do, I mean."
Michael tilts her head and sighs, crossing her arms and slowly shaking her head.
"I wasn't lost, you know," she says vaguely. He frowns and slowly begins his approach. "When you found me. I wasn't lost. It was worse than that," she pauses when he comes to her side.
Finally, his eyes meet hers.
"I... was defeated," she admits. "I had nothing. I was nothing. And then..."
"What?"
Michael lets out a little breath, much like a sigh... but more like a shiver.
"You found me. You were the first person since the Binary Stars to speak to me like a person, like an officer. You didn't belittle me, you didn't shun me. You didn't isolate me. You gave me purpose again. I didn't think I could ever repay that debt."
Gabriel loses his senses and touches the small of her back.
"There is no debt." He assures her. "Please believe me when I say that. I never... I never expected anything from you."
Michael smiles gently, then touches his forearm. He inhales slowly, but the reaction was not lost on him. They had touched so few times. There had never been cause to before. But now...
"There is a debt, Captain," she says to him. "One that I now have the power to compensate."
Michael wraps her arms around his waist, his own leaving her back. He suddenly doesn't know how to hold this Michael. His hands hovered lifeless around her as she rests her head in his chest. He feels his stomach flutter, his heart race, and he inhales the sweet scent of her hair.
Swallowing, his allows himself this and gently endears her with his arms, closing them in around her, committing the moment to memory.
"This is confusing." She says, almost childishly but he relates nonetheless.
"I know."
"I can't deny that I have been changed recently," she mumbles into his chest, he feels her jaw and lips moving, her breath warm and tantalizing it's way through the material of his uniform.
"May I speak freely?" She asks and he chuckles.
"I didn't know we were on the clock." He jokes, unable to help himself.
"Not as officers," she says hesitantly, pulling away only a few inches to look up at him, the moment suddenly heightened with the new intimacy of the space between their lips. "As a woman... to a man."
Gabriel swallows again, he refuses to allow himself to hold her anymore tightly for fear he might lose all impulse control.
"Speak freely." He urges and she takes a breath.
"I can't deny the attraction I do feel towards you," she begins. "But it's not like... with others."
Gabriel nods.
"It's something else. When we were on the ISS Shenzhou and you were in my care, I knew what was being done to you and it... hurt. It took everything in me not to tear you away from your torment as you had done for me. It was agony to see you broken-"
Her voice cracks he hushes her, gently guiding her head back into the protection of his chest as she weeps. He shushes her, kindly stroking her back, resting his chin in her curls. Rocking her, the way this Michael Burnham needs to be.
Gabriel knew what kind of man he needed to be for his Michael, but he was learning what he wanted to be for the one he now held in his arms.
"I wanted to save you." she says, muffled by his jacket now stained with her tears.
"You have, Michael. You don't know how you have."
This time, Gabriel pulls away. This was his last chance. To show her he could be tender...
Before Michael could say more, he cups her face and brings his lips to hers. Their noses bump, it's a clumsy attempt. But their lips only rested together, and it was enough to remind him of the torch he would always carry for this woman, damn whatever universe held them captive.
Michael gasps weakly, but she doesn't fight him. She enjoys it, savors it.
His thumb runs along her jawline, sending minute sensations across her skin.
When their lips detach from one another, their faces simply rest together. The personal sense of intimacy overwhelms him. He shouldn't have taken such liberties with her. Not so soon after Tyler.
"I'm sorry." He says quickly, removing his hands from her, turning away and moving behind his desk.
Once more putting an island between them as he had when they met, clinging to it like a chain... a shackle.
"Captain-"
"It's alright. Forgive an old man for indulging in his illusion." He adds quickly, embarrassed.
Michael doesn't press it, his eyes pleaded with her not to. She nods, awkwardly taking her leave.
He bites his bottom lip and chastises himself. He flings himself from his desk, his fists telling him to smash the glass apart. He chose to admire the view instead, ignoring the empty space beside him.
X
Shoreleave wasn't granted to the crew of Discovery from Starfleet. On their journey home with many repairs still needing to be seen to, Captain Lorca was informed there was a nearby by planetoid capable of sustaining life but there were very few inhabitants. The temptation was strong, his crew tired and exhausted in need of some sort of distraction.
He himself remained on board, overseeing repair crews before they each took their turn to spend a little time on the small green planetoid below them.
Michael came to his quarters, still in uniform to go over a duty roster.
"Not gonna take in the sights?" He comments, noting her formal attire.
"No. I would rather work." She replies, he looked over the PADD, grunting. "And you, Captain?"
Gabriel shakes his head.
"Not my style." He hands her the PADD, their fingers brushing, both ignoring the sensation the small touch ignites in them both. She clears her throat and departs.
It was hours later, in cargo bay 2 where he saw her again. Of course they were alone, she hadn't heard him come in. She was going over the manifest, but she was staring off.
"Burnham?" He asks quietly, she was shaken from her thoughts, her eyes glazed over and she blinks, turning away from him. She makes a motion with her hand to her faces that looks like she brushing away tears.
"You alright?" He stops, keeping a distance. She nods simply, sniffing, her back straight and her eyes downcast at her PADD. But she wasn't making corrections and she wasn't counting. She hadn't checked in, in hours. Something was wrong.
"Take a break," he says, kindly, "We've still got three days before Starfleet expects us back."
Michael shakes her head.
"I need to finish this." She counters, rigidly. He comes towards her now, taking the PADD from her hands.
"No. You don't." He tells her, setting the device down on a cargo container. She reaches for it but he stops her, settling his hand on her elbow. "Stop burying yourself."
Michael sighs.
"I need to." She argues.
"You're exhausted, Michael, you need rest."
"What I need is-" she stops herself. She removes her elbow from his grip, turning away again.
Shutting herself off used to be so easy, and with other people sometimes it still was. But with him... it was like he saw every part of her, every secret she was trying to hide. Every thought, feeling and emotion on display for him. She couldn't hide anything from him, and she didn't want to.
That's what scared her most.
"Cadet Tilly is on shore leave until tomorrow," she said suddenly. He didn't understand. "I have no company."
The heaviness of her words sunk in like quicksand.
"What are you asking?" He needed clarification, he didn't want to humiliate himself again.
"That you come to me... as a man." She relented and she faces him as she spoke.
"That's not what you need." He tries to tell but she silenced him with a look.
"You mistake my meaning," she told him. "I want to sleep with you but... I need to know something first."
Clearing his throat at her admission he waits for her to continue, the agony of the prolonged silence giving him chills.
"Is it more than my physical appearance?" He knew what she meant. He nods him and came to her again.
"So much more." He tells her.
Michael wavers on her feet, he stares at her lips and her eyes; up and down he appraises her. He admires this Michael Burnham, pines for her in ways he hadn't with his own lover. He didn't think it was possible to love the same woman at different times in different ways.
With his own Michael it hadn't been difficult to make his intentions clear; in his world, man or woman, you staked your claim and took what you wanted. But here... there were certain courtship rituals he was unfamiliar with. And this new and different Michael needed something he had never needed to give his own.
She needed time, kindness... she needed to be loved from afar. He desired to give that to her.
And yet the woman remained ever independent. How did he fit into that?
"I'll finish this shortly, Captain. I'm sorry for my tardiness." She says, clearing her throat and returning to her stale, Vulcan demeanor. The attitude in the cargo bay shifted back to Captain and subordinate, no longer man and woman.
With her back to him once again, he itched to reach to her. But he couldn't allow himself that kind of closeness again. He disappeared as silently as he had appeared. He didn't go to her quarters.
X
Michael had experienced longing before; she had longed to join the Vulcan Science Expeditionary Group, she had longed for Sarek's approval. She had longed to become Captain... she had never longed to be desired. But when Captain Lorca kissed her, however brief and faint it had been, it had awakened something within her.
The only other time she had felt brave in a similar sense had been with Tyler. And now he was gone, replaced with a monster that had mentally and emotionally tortured her.
And now because of Ash, she doubted every word anyone said to her. The sincerity of, the truth, the meaning, the motivation and the goodwill. Was everyone lying to her...?
In place of Ash's betrayal, a new wave of restlessness had taken shape. She felt defeated as a woman, that she was not enough to make him try to win the battle he had waged inside of himself. She had never needed a man's validation before, but now that she felt worthless and unwanted under the weight of rejection.
It was only human.
It had all been a part of the Klingon's plan. And she was left with nothing but the memory of a facade, a lie that had been so beautiful she felt foolish she had not seen through the hollow wrappings.
"Are we friends?" She asks Captain Lorca, the last night of shore leave.
They both had decided, separately and much to their own surprise, to go down to the planet.
They had been on different shuttles and when he saw her across a field surrounded by campfires, faces of his crew smiling and laughing gayly for the first time in weeks, he felt himself drawn to her once again.
Their own campfire was small, only the two of them. The rest of the crew enjoying one another's company, telling stories and singing songs. One of them had replicated an acoustic guitar.
The air was a little chilly, she had wrapped herself in a heavy shawl and warmed her feet by the firepit, inches from his booted foot. He ignored the closeless.
"That's up to you," he says. "I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again."
Michael notes his chuckle at the end of his sentence; a smokescreen, a mask to hide that he would be deeply hurt if she never spoke to him after they returned home. But she was hurt more than he would think so little of her. That he would even entertain the idea that she was so petty.
But she let it go, choosing to say something else instead,
"I couldn't do that," looking down at her hands clasped in the shawl, playing with a loose thread. "Not after everything."
"Everything was pretty bad." He adds. She nods and smiles sadly.
"You've... made it better."
Gabriel glances at his tent, feet behind her, then back at her, her eyes now trained on him.
"Can I sleep with you tonight?" She asks him, unafraid on the surface but deeply fearing his rejection. He internally compiled a list of reasons why she shouldn't.
"Michael-"
"You think you would be taking advantage of me." She finishes for him, he nods, affirming her assumption.
Michael rises and wraps the shawl tighter around herself, her breath coming out in little clouds.
"Allow me to make my own decisions." She holds out her hand to him, the fire illuminating her soft face and piercing eyes. He clenches his jaw and forces himself to relax.
He takes her hand and she leads him to his tent.
Inside, they stand facing one another. The muffled sounds of an acoustic guitar mingled with the natural breeze of the planted and the sweeping zephyr of trees swaying.
Voices outside of the tent did not concern him, but he did notice how she glanced at the opening of the now sealed tent when a shadow would pass by or when a voice got too close.
Cupping her face he takes her attention back to him. This was her idea after all, wasn't it?
Michael was trembling, she held the shawl around her like a security blanket. Suddenly self conscious, aware of the way his eyes roved over her. But she did the same when he wasn't looking, or... now when he was.
Brushing her fingertips over his lips, the shawl pools to her feet.
"What do you want?" He asks her, low and rough.
"Hold me."
Lying together on the cot, he spoons her and holds her close to his chest. But he didn't imagine it was his Michael. No, that woman was dead and gone. He had mourned her, grieved her... and then found her all over again.
Their hands clasped together, she wiggles closer to him until it was almost impossible to breathe.
And growing impossible to control himself.
"Michael," he whispers her name against her ear and she shivers as his breath washes over her, arousing the deepest parts of herself.
With his hand in hers, she rests it on her stomach and he fans his fingers out, broadly reaching her waist than traveling to her hip. She cooes in his embrace, she seemed to vibrate under his hands.
Groaning softly against the back of her neck he kisses the space under her hairline and she grabs his other hand tighter. For a moment he fears she was picturing Tyler until she rolled over to face him, kissing him softly, her upper lip cupping his own.
Control... he reminds himself.
Michael pulls away only a few inches, their eyes searching one another in an endless journey of discovery.
Closing her eyes she kisses him again, another genuine elementary gesture. He bravely pulls her hips closer to his own, allowing her to feel his desire... aching for her to realize the effect even her smallest actions have on him.
Her mouth parts but a little, her tongue remaining inside her own mouth, but he caught her bottom lip between his own eliciting a gentle moan from her. Would this Michael enjoy the same ministrations his own had? Perhaps yes... perhaps no.
Only further exploration would give him the answers he sought.
Michael removes his jacket, wishing she didn't have to remove her lips from his. The heat between rising ever so slightly, the warmth inside the tent grew.
"You're beautiful, Michael." He says before he could stop himself, but it was true. She was terribly breathtaking. It had been agony to be so near to her on Discovery and yet so far away... unable to tell her how when he looked at her it was always like the first time.
She looks away, shy again and he kisses her forehead.
"I'm sorry." he whispers against her skin, she shakes her head and gently strokes his chin.
"You make it feel different somehow," she says. "I don't know how... but you do."
The kissing ceases being tentative, upon their next salute of lips, she opens her mouth further, allowing him to take the lead and explore her mouth more deeply.
Gabriel groans at the feeling of her pliant mouth beckoning him deeper inside her. She didn't taste like his Michael, she tasted sweeter and innocent. Like raw honey, like fresh flowers, like a meadow at dawn.
Taking her leg he throws it over his lip, testing her waters by pressing his hardness into her core. She gasps and wriggles closer to him. Intensely she grapples at his chest, feeling over his muscles and sliding a hand under the back of his shirt.
Gabriel knows she isn't a blushing virgin and yet she still managed to retain a beautiful innocence about her. She was eager and shy all at once. He hardened even more.
"Can I touch you?" He whispers between kisses.
"You don't have to ask." She assures him, he swoops in to kiss her again and she cries out as his hand wasted no time in cupping her soft breast in his hand, the material of her shirt causing a beautiful friction against her hardening peak.
Gabriel tears his mouth from hers to kiss and nibble at her long neck, she whimpers quietly; encouraging him with her hands and the sounds she makes.
Gazing down at her, he slowly pushes the loose off-duty shirt up, revealing her flat stomach quivering under his hand. She doesn't stop him, she only waited breathlessly for it to continue.
As more of her torso is revealed he kisses her cheek, then her bottom lip, her chin, down the column of her throat, her collarbone until eventually his lips make landfall over her peak, cupped strangely as he pushed her sports bra over her breast.
He inhales sharply as she digs her nails into his lower back.
Michael sat up, tossing her shirt and bra off entirely, throwing both garments with a grunt, happy to be rid of them. Without missing a moment, she pulls his own shirt over his head, leaning into press a kiss to his heart. He held her there for a moment before leaning her back again.
When they are both completely naked, wrapped around one another, he wasn't sure where he began and she ended.
He wedged himself between her legs, her thighs tethering him to her. He was so hard but he didn't want it to end. And she was incredibly wet, so supple and beautiful under him and around him.
Michael bites his shoulder when Gabriel thrusts inside her, being careful and gentle because that's what this Michael needs. He groans at the sensation of her surrounding him, deeply and fully.
The small cot that held them creaks, he gives her time to adjust, the pain visible on her face. But she relaxes, flexes her hands, her nails dragging up his back as she holds him to her, unwilling to let go.
"Don't stop... not now." She begs him and he rallies himself, putting aside whatever had happened in the past. Throwing events that had lead them to this moment to the wind.
Michael feels him inside, she feels him everywhere. She feels him in the darkest, quietest parts of herself, as if he had been waiting there all along. Perhaps it was destiny after all, despite his interference. Was all always meant to be...?
Watching him under heavy eyes as he finds pleasure in her body but also in the way she gave back as much as he gave in, she relishes in the sweet sensations they find together.
Always together, side by side. Good mixing with bad, Terran and Starfleet. She had overcome her own upbringing, forging her own path. He had done the same.
Born into war and battle, conceived perhaps through pain and suffering, but alive and changed.
Changed for the better, changed... for her.
"Gabriel." She sighs against his chest, feeling her pleasure rising to its highest peak.
Whispering his name for the first time, yes, it had always been there.
Michael doesn't know who is panting harder, whose heart beat was whoms. She keeps her voice quiet, there were still crewmen out there, enjoying their shoreleave, unaware of what was happening between the two people they knew as Specialist Burnham and Captain Lorca.
But they aren't those people now. They were just a man and woman, seeking solace, seeking redemption, atonement... it didn't matter. It was only this moment that mattered. Morning would come, so would Starfleet. But that was for Michael Burnham and Gabriel Lorca to worry about, it wasn't for them.
"Shit." Gabriel grunts, exhaling through his nose as he increases his pace. She felt a bruise at her hip forming from where he clutches her to him.
Releasing a quiet sigh, she finds her release, coming apart in his arms so peacefully it nearly makes her cry. She feels him find his own as well, cumming inside of her as his hips jerk powerfully against her.
Once it was over he props himself up on his elbows, wiping the sweat from her brow and simply staring at her. She gives him the same courtesy.
"What happens now?" She asks, he was holding her to his chest, the tiny cot affording them little room.
"Now? Damn if I know." He muses, his lips moving against her forehead. "Are you hungry?"
Michael frowns into his neck.
"Hungry?" She repeats, but now that he mentioned it she was ravenous.
"If you've worked up an appetite it means it was good." He assures her, with a humor in his voice she hadn't heard before. She sits up.
"Really?" She questions, raising an eyebrow, her tone almost playful. He grunts a response. "I'm not that hungry."
Somehow, she knew he knew she was lying. Because his eyes darkened and he sits up as well, running his fingers down the length of her arm.
"You sure about that?" He asks her quietly, leaning in and resting a lingering kiss to her throat. She shivers, her hand automatically going to the back of his neck, holding him in place.
"Yes." She answers.
Another kiss, wetter and warmer.
"Still sure?" He asks, leaning down closer to her breasts.
"Gabriel..."
"Say the word, darling."
A kiss to her breast, before engulfing her nipple till it hardened. She moans high, but cuts it off to save herself the humiliation of being discovered in her captain's tent.
Tightly winding her fingers into his hair she yanks his head back, his upper lip twitching into a snarl.
Michael's smirk matches his own, she brings her lips close to his mouth, her hold tightening further. She imagines forcing him to bow to her... picturing him groveling at her feet.
She speaks quietly, in a husky voice that made him harder,
"I'm starving."