Sevign, Lord of the Sith, lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling of the medical bay. Quinn bent over her, his brow furrowed as he dabbed wet gauze on a particularly nasty laceration on her side. There was plenty of blood, but he was used to seeing it, although he felt a jolt of unease when he realized that the cut was quite deep. He stole a glance up at the Sith Lord's face. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing normally – a meditative state that she often entered while he worked to heal her wounds.
She wasn't bothered by pain, even though he knew this must have hurt like hell. He quickly reached for the kolto gel, broke the blister pack and began to fill the wound with it before the bleeding started again. He felt her jump slightly, and she caught her breath.
"Apologies, my Lord," he said. "The wound is deeper than I thought."
She casually waved her hand, indicating that there was nothing he needed to apologize for. He finished his work with a permeable bandage to allow the wound air flow and prevent maceration.
"I'd like to give you something for the pain," he said, reaching for an injector.
"That will not be necessary, Captain," she replied, swinging her legs over the bed and sitting up. She flattened her palm over the now-dressed wound. "Excellent work, as always," she said with a slight smile that looked suspiciously like a grimace.
Quinn looked troubled, however. "My Lord, may I speak freely?"
Sevign chuckled at his continued persistence at formality. "Of course, Quinn."
The Captain took a quick breath. "Your armor, my Lord. It seems rather, impractical."
The Sith looked down at herself, and then back up at Quinn, a smile playing on her lips. "In what way, Captain?"
Quinn frowned; he knew very well she understood without explanation, but she apparently was going to make him say it. He cleared his throat.
"For starters, you wear no helm. Your neck and head are completely vulnerable," he said. When she gave no response, he continued. "Secondly, your…midsection is completely exposed, and a great portion of your legs are as well. You are far too…exposed," he said, stumbling over his words. He braced himself for the witty response that was sure to come.
There was delight in her eyes, however.
"Do you find my armor…distracting, Quinn?"
He stared at her as though the question didn't make sense. "No," he said, too quickly.
Smirking, she asked another question. "But, isn't it attractive on me?"
Quinn looked incredulous. "I-I suppose it is, my Lord, but that's hardly the point of armor! It is supposed to protect your body, not showcase it!"
Sevign stood from the table and took a step closer. "You're afraid I'll get hurt."
"Yes. Yes, my Lord. Every time you go into battle, I fear that you may sustain wounds that I cannot heal. You make my job all the more difficult by not wearing proper armor. You should be covered from head to foot in heavy steel," he said quickly. "I fear failing you, and you're not exactly making it difficult."
Surprising him, she reached up with a gloved hand and touched his face, stroking his roughened cheek. Her eyes slid to half-mast as her eyes roamed over his face. "I have complete confidence in you, Quinn. You're an exceptional medic and deadly with a blaster."
The moment seemed to stretch out; his eyes betrayed his confusion and excitement at her touch. Her hand fell away, and he blinked. He released a breath; not realizing he'd held itt. His heart bounded in his chest. What had just happened?
She released him from her gaze. "The armor I wear wasn't selected at random, Quinn. I'm fully aware of its ability to cause distractions. That is one of the reasons I wear it. I have found that men – who make up the majority of my foes - make assumptions when they see a woman showing a lot of skin. They are quite mesmerized by bare skin. It makes them think about things other than fighting. And for a moment, I have the upper hand. And a moment is all I need."
Quinn blinked and shook his head. Sevign smiled. "When they see me, they think of sex. They think of a helpless, tiny female. I'm no warrior. I'm no bringer of death. I'm a plaything." She chuckled. "And those sorts of thoughts make them feel overconfident. Powerful."
The Captain wasn't aware that his mouth had fallen open whilst she was speaking. He was quite aware that his trousers had become uncomfortably tight.
"Women have a power that few of them ever realize. It is a weapon that I make full use of. My enemies underestimate me. By the time they realize they've realized their mistake, it's too late," she said with a sly smile.
The Captain swallowed hard, and then cleared his throat as he tore his eyes away from Sevign. He stood and turned abruptly, back to his table of instruments and supplies and rummaged through them needlessly.
"I see your point, my Lord. Of course, that rationale only applies if your enemies happen to be heterosexual males and not droids, females or aliens that don't fancy you…"
Sevign grinned and slid off the table. She noticed how Quinn's shoulder's tensed as she approached him.
"Well, if they all had such a weakness, I wouldn't need you, Captain." Sevign moved in close; her body very gently brushing his back. He drew in a breath as her hand wrapped around his upper arm and slid up to his shoulder. "Would I?"
Quinn felt her breath against his ear and felt lightheaded. "I suppose not, my Lord."
He felt her push herself up on her tip-toes, so that her mouth was directly behind his ear and her breasts nudged his shoulder blades. If he ever had anything to make fun of her about, it was that she was so short. "And," she breathed into his ear, "isn't it good to be needed?"
The minx, he thought to himself as he suppressed a violent shudder. But a moment later, he felt her stiffen, along with a painful hiss. When he turned, she was clutching her side again.
He didn't wait for her invitation before bending to look at the dressing, which now had a patch of fresh, bright blood spreading over it.
"Oh, brilliant," he moaned, "you've pulled the kolto packing loose and you're bleeding again. Lie down before you hemorrhage to death."
She sighed and acquiesced. "It was worth it to hear your heart crashing against your ribcage like that. I barely touched you." She laid down flat and closed her eyes. Quinn ignored her, which was easy to do when he was doing medical work. His hands and his eyes had a purpose. But he received no small amount of pleasure from this task when he was tending her. He felt perfectly justified in touching her almost anywhere and asking her to remove clothing when it seemed necessary.
It was when the work was done that Quinn found it hard to know what to do with himself. Looking into her eyes seemed a deep and dangerous territory, and he feared that he would never be able to look away if he stared too long.
Quinn enjoyed being the man that accompanied her, supported her, and lent her his opinion when asked. He watched her, studied her, memorized her. But in the silence and privacy of the ship, when she really turned on the charm, he found himself frozen like a pubescent boy.
He wanted her; that much was true. But it confused and astounded him to no end that she would want him. Quinn wasn't shy so much as avoidant with women, but this woman - this Sith Lord – was the epitome of power and might. She was also the embodiment of beauty and grace and those were things he had never seen combined. It was like staring into the sun.
It was inconceivable that she'd want him for more than a plaything. She wasn't cruel by any means, but that was the only explanation. She had a craving for a stiff Imperial officer and Quinn fit the bill. That was all.
But, he asked himself, wouldn't it be worth it? Even if it was just once and she never looked at him again…?
He finally decided it wasn't, because such a situation could ultimately put his position on the crew at risk. He wanted to be doing this – by her side, doing this – for as long as he could serve. That was more important than sleeping with her.
His groin ached in protest of this thought.
He finished applying her bandages in silence. When he finally looked up at her face, Quinn found that she had been staring at him with a quiet expression on her face.
"Healing the sick and injured," she said quietly. "Do you know what that means, Quinn? You're a god among men. And to me, you're my savior. Every day, every hour that we fight together, you're by my side, keeping me strong."
He stared at her, struck by her words. The moment stretched out.
She extended an arm and he grasped it, helping her into a sitting position. As she came upright, her other hand reached out and pulled him into a surprise kiss.
He didn't fight her; he didn't pull away. As her mouth moved against his, he merely accepted its onslaught graciously, not too eagerly, but welcoming. He heard her soft sigh and her delicate fingers on either side of his face, and he gasped involuntarily, encouraging her to deepen the kiss.
It seemed like minutes passed like this; he pulled away slowly, his eyes opening and focusing on her. His mind felt frozen in this moment; he was still trying to process the fact that after months of flirting innocently with him, she had now taken another step towards claiming him.
Quinn had to be real with himself; he had been claimed since the moment she sauntered into his office on Balmorra. She smiled softly.
"If I could only move without destroying your work, I'd have you right here, right now,"
Quinn was barely aware of her gently stroking his hair; his cheek. His eyes settled on hers with an expression of confusion mingled with desire. He mumbled something about a pain hypo, and she laughed; it was a deep, sensuous noise that made his head swim.
He opened his mouth to speak, to say something…anything to let her know that he was willing to be whatever she wanted, wherever she wanted. He had to kiss her again, had to touch her again and now was the moment…
A loud commotion broke Quinn out of his spell as Lieutenant Peirce lumbered into the medical bay dragging a piece of his armor behind him. He looked up in surprise to see Quinn and Sevign, standing too close to be anything other than intimate. Sevign's hand fell slowly away from Quinn's face; the Captain moved away quickly and picked up a handheld scanner.
Peirce mumbled an apology to the Sith, which she acknowledged with a nod of her head and looked away. Quinn looked up at the door, hoping to see Peirce's departure, but he lingered for a moment in the doorway, long enough to throw Quinn a murderous look.
Moments later, there was shouting coming from the crew quarters that sounded suspiciously like Vette ordering Peirce to knock before bursting into the refresher and Peirce shouting back that she wasn't in possession of anything he hadn't already seen.
Sevign smiled at Quinn. "There'll be talk…"
He acknowledged this with a silent nod.
"You should get some rest, my Lord."
She sighed and slid off the table. "Yes, I think I will. We should continue this later, Quinn."
"Agreed, my Lord."
As she walked out of the medical bay, Quinn noticed the sag in her shoulders, and the delicate way she took the steps. Why she refused pain medication was something he'd never understand, and he practically had to order her to sleep. He shook his head. We should continue this later, Quinn…
His heart thudded against his ribs at the thought of "continuing" what had just happened. Was it anticipation? Fear? Dread? Or excitement?
He decided it was all of those things and more. His head told him it was a bad idea, but there were other parts that staunchly disagreed. He usually proceeded into anything unknown with extreme caution, but he wasn't sure if that was possible in this case. Either he dove in head first with all that he was, or he refused, and it all ended.
It wasn't that he didn't like an aggressive woman (he clearly did); it was just that he now felt a sense of doom – in what way would this end up that could be good for him? He shook his head. Maybe, he told himself, you just think too bloody much. For once in your life, ignore the fucking committee in your head and just go for it. Don't think about what may or may not happen.
Hours later, he lay in his bunk and tried to review reports on datapad, but when he could find nothing of interest, he picked up a book instead. When that couldn't even hold his attention, he resigned himself to staring at the datapad screen while listening to the noise around him.
The crew quarters were more than he could bear at times. Vette, Peirce, Jaesa and Quinn shared the large room, sleeping, dressing and socializing. Peirce seemed to enjoy being cooped up with two women, and mostly ignored Quinn, which was why it surprised him to hear Peirce address him.
"You're dead smart. She likes that in a bloke. Can't say I'm surprised to see that she's taken an interest, but I'd hold off on picking out baby names if I were you," Peirce said.
Quinn looked up at the larger man from his bunk. "Excuse me?"
"Sport," Peirce explained. "That's all it is to her. You know that, doncha Captain? She'll use you as a bedwarmer until she's gets bored of you, then she'll drop you like you was nothin'."
Quinn glared at Peirce, and felt an overwhelming sense of annoyance that he was being addressed in such a submissive position. Peirce towered over him, a cruel grin on his face.
The Captain forced himself to look away, back to his datapad. "I assume you're referring to Lord Sevign. There's nothing going on between us; certainly nothing that concerns you."
"Not yet," Peirce said. "I imagine my turn will come later, when she's tired of you and realizes not even a Sith Lord can remove the stick from your arse." He sniffed. "I was never one for sloppy seconds, mind you, but she's not exactly a common bird, is she?"
Quinn was barely cognizant of rising from the bunk. He suddenly found himself in Peirce's face, which delighted the Lieutenant.
"You will not speak that way about our Lord," Quinn said, his tone dangerous. Vette looked up from her datapad, her eyes wide.
"What you gonna do, Captain? Write me up for insubordination? I'm just talkin' here – you're the one that's in my face. Take another step and I'll be happy to defend myself, though."
Quinn glared at Peirce. "I will not repeat myself again, Lieutenant. You will not speak that way about Lord Sevign. You will not disrespect her; nor will you disrespect your commanding officer, which happens to be me."
Peirce smiled. "Apologies, Captain. It's just hard to give respect to the man who spends most of his time sucking Darth Baras' cock."
Quinn shook with anger and before he knew it, his hands had balled into fists, his lips tensed, his nostrils flared. He reared back and punched Peirce directly in the nose.
Quinn was vaguely aware of Vette's shriek.
Peirce stumbled back, touching two fingers to his bloodied nose. He smiled. "I been waitin' for this." He lunged at Quinn, throwing him to the floor. He sank two punches into the floor beside Quinn's head before making contact with his left cheek.
Quinn gained some leverage and latched onto Peirce's elbow; he applied pressure and the larger man howled in anger and Quinn was able to throw him off. The two men got to their feet and before another punch could be thrown, a flash of long, white hair and the power of the force separated them, throwing each of the men against the opposite walls.
"What in the bloody hell is going on here?" Sevign shouted, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Speak!"
Both men launched into loud explanations, attempting to speak over one another. A crowd had gathered; including Vette, Jaesa, Broonmark and even 2V.
"Shut it!" Sevign cried. "It doesn't matter. I don't care. If you've got problems with one another, you had better work them out without fighting. You are a TEAM, for pity's sake. If you insist on dividing yourself in this manner, you will create weakness in this team, and I will not have it. I will not have weak, foolish men fighting alongside me in battle. We fight our enemies, not our own crew."
Silence fell on the crew quarters. Sevign walked up to Peirce, her small frame dwarfed in comparison with his.
"You," she said, pointing a long finger in his face. "This was you. You've been itching to fight Quinn since you met him. I can feel your rage, Lieutenant. It is a beautiful thing, but it is misguided and inappropriate here."
Peirce looked indignant, but definitely afraid of the Sith. "Apologies, my Lord, but I feel I need to mention that he hit me first."
Sevign glared at him. "I have no doubt that he did, after you provoked him. What did you say to make him so angry, Peirce? Some crack about fucking me?"
Peirce's eyes went wide; he was spectacularly inept at hiding his reactions. He blubbered, saying very few actual words. Sevign turned around to Quinn.
"And you…why, Quinn? Why would you let him get under your skin? You are a man of great control, to the point that it irritates even me. You are better than this."
Sevign sighed and let her arms fall to her side. "Rage. Anger. They are useful tools if used the correct way. You will not – ever again – direct them at your fellow crewmembers. If you do, I will kill you myself." She turned around, her eyes sweeping the entire crew, before she settled on one.
"Peirce – I feel this is an appropriate time to remind you that Quinn is your commanding officer and the Captain of this ship. I trust that I don't need to say anything more."
"No, m'lord."
Silence filled the crew quarters again.
"Carry on, then. Quinn, with me. You're bleeding all over the deck. Report to the medical bay, now," the Sith Lord commanded, pushing past 2V and Broonmark. Quinn swept a hand across his cheekbone and looked at it. The single blow Peirce managed to land had put a deep gash in his face, and was responsible for the blood that was now staining dripping onto his shirt, boots, and the floor.
He glared at Peirce as he swept out of the room, and avoided the stares of the rest of the crew.
A few moments later he was back in the medical bay. "Close the door behind you," she said, leaning heavily over the exam bed, her face serious. Quinn touched the doorpad and the hatch slid shut with a sshnk. He pressed the second pad and locked the door as well.
"Come here."
He obeyed; approaching the exam bed. She pushed gently on his shoulders and he sat on the bed with a wince he tried to hide, but nothing escaped her.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, beginning to dab wet gauze over the area.
"No, it's my back," he answered truthfully. "It's been giving me trouble for weeks, and being body slammed onto the floor didn't help matters."
"I'll run the e-stim over it. You should have told me if you were suffering."
"I wouldn't call it suffering, my Lord. Just a mere annoyance," he replied. She took his chin in her steady hands and turned his head to get a better look at the laceration. She dabbed Kolto gel in the crevice.
Silence passed between them for a moment. Quinn watched her while she worked, her face full of concentration and…something else. She was cross with him, he imagined.
"I meant what I said, you know," she began. "You are normally a man of great control, and fighting him was beneath you. You shouldn't have let him get to you."
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "But what he said was completely inappropriate and disrespectful, both to me…and you."
"So, I was right?" she said, smirking. "He made a snide remark about sleeping with me. Do you know how many men have done the same? Do you want to venture a guess as to how many of those men are still alive?"
Quinn chuckled silently.
"I do appreciate you defending my honor. Do not believe for a moment that I will let that go unrewarded." Her face turned serious. "Pierce must adapt…and I believe he will be an excellent asset to this team once he does. Until then, I think there will be more tension between the two of you. Please don't fight him."
Quinn reached up and grasped her wrist, stilling her movements. Her eyes met his, surprised.
"I cannot guarantee that, my Lord. If he continues to disrespect you, I will not stand idly by. I have too much respect for you to allow that."
A smile crept over her face. "Even if I give you a direct order?"
He spoke quietly. "Even then."
Her eyes softened and she exhaled, her shoulders falling. Quinn thought she was about to tell him off, but she leaned forward and kissed him, cupping the sides of his face in her hands.
The shock of being kissed again wore off more quickly this time. He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. He was done trying to pretend he didn't want this, and, not knowing if he would have the chance again (but suspecting that he would), he deepened the kiss and didn't stop until she pulled away, breathless.
She searched his eyes for a moment, before leaning in and resting her head against his.
"This is difficult for me," she said quietly, "being attracted to someone that I'm supposed to be leading. I doubt myself; the best course of action. But I cannot continue to pretend that I don't have feelings for you…strong feelings…I'll not deny that I fancy you, Quinn."
He pushed out a shaky breath.
"It's time I spoke the truth as well, my Lord. Thoughts of you have begun to…distract me. No, that's not the right word. Thoughts of you consume me. I cannot think properly, cannot serve properly. I am a danger to you in my current condition…"
"Nonsense," she said, her thumbs caressing his cheek. "Our passion makes us stronger. We merely have to confess it, let it grow and take on a life of its own. It is the tension between us that puts us in danger."
Sevign bent and kissed his cheek, his jawline, and then, his neck. He shivered with want; an aching need for her contact. He had fantasized about it for so long and it was so much more than he imagined.
"Tension – I…I confess there is a great deal of that," he said.
"Then allow it relief," she whispered into his ear. He needed no more invitation after that; his hands slid down to her backside and lifted her onto his lap. She laughed softly as he attacked her mouth with his. She ground her hips against him, eliciting a groan from the Captain.
The intercom beeped. The two looked up at the source of the noise and glared murderously at it.
"M'Lord… Peirce here. We've just received an urgent message from Belsavis requesting aid. The local Imperial attachment sent a bunch of reports to review. Should I set a course?"
The Sith Lord's jaw clenched. "Yes, Lieutenant. I'll review the reports with Captain Quinn en route. ETA?"
"Seven hours, m'lord."
"Do it, and don't bother me until we get there," Sevign said sharply.
There was a short pause. "Understood, m'lord." The comm disconnected. Sevign turned back to Quinn, her fingers now finding his black hair and running through it. His eyes fell to half-mast, but he managed to speak.
"Far be it for me to dodge my responsibilities, my lord, but those reports are about the last thing on my mind at the moment."
Sevign's smile was positively carnal. "I agree, Quinn, but it provides a good reason for us to be alone in my quarters for the next seven hours."
"I see your point," Quinn said with a nod.
A/N: To be continued, expect the next chapter to be quite smutty...