Michael awoke to familiar sheets in a familiar bed, but when she opened her eyes she knew immediately that this was not her room. The presence of her brother, both physical and mental, had stayed with her throughout the night and the events of the previous evening were front and foremost on her mind. Alone or lonely most of her life, it wasn't until the previous year, when she'd been brought to Discovery by Captain Lorca, that she'd been able to imagine a future that held anything but a lifetime of imprisonment for her act of mutiny. Being free, having a second chance, she had devoted herself to the Discovery, her duty as an officer, and her crew. She'd been brought up on Vulcan and had learned to repress her emotions, and though she'd been lonely at times, she knew it was illogical to feel that way when she had responsibilities to attend to, but her parents and her foster mother had been as human as she, so she also knew to embrace her feelings, as well. Sharing Spock's mind and body had been an extremely nice change.

She turned over to reach for her brother, her lover, but she was alone in the small bed. She didn't wonder where he'd gone for long, because light filtered into the dim room from where Spock had left the bathroom door open a crack and the sound of the hydro-shower, like heavy rain tapping their windows in monsoon season when she was a child, lured Michael from bed.

Still completely naked, she was only a little shy as she slid her legs out from under the covers to tiptoe across the cool floor and push the bathroom door open just enough to peer in. She didn't enter right away, but leaned in the door way to watch rivulets of water and soap run down Spock's back as he washed his hair. He faced away from her, toward the shower head, and she admired the shape of his body, his broad shoulders and thin waist, the contrast of his dark hair against his pale skin.

"You may join me, if you wish," he said, breaking the silence, and Michael startled a little when she realized her eyes had been lingering on his bottom and he'd caught her in the act. Coming out from her hiding place, she took the few steps across the water resistant flooring to stand behind him.

"Good morning," she said, tracing her cool fingers down his spine and up across his shoulders, making his skin jump.

"You are cold. You should not have lingered at the doorway so long."

"I was just admiring the view," Michael admitted. He turned his head to see her, a look of puzzlement on his face as he reached for her wrist to pull her into the stream of water.

"The view?" he asked, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her close. "But there are no windows in here."

"I think you are beautiful, Spock," she said, leaning into his embrace and enjoying the hot water on her back.

"Hm," he pondered her statement. "Beauty is subjective."

"Yes, I agree with that," she said with a tease in her voice which he was more than familiar with, "but as you are the subject in this instance, and I'm the only other person here, I think I am entitled to my opinion. In fact, my opinion is the only one that matters."

"May I kiss you again, Michael?" he asked, ignoring her opinions on silly, subjective things, or maybe, taking them to heart, as the corners of his lips were turned up in what could only be a smile. Nodding, she stood up on her tippy toes to cradle his face and pull it down to hers in a sweet kiss that parted their lips and had them tasting one another's wet mouths. He slid a hand from her back to cup her breast, rubbing a thumb over the pebbled nipple, then down her middle, past her belly button, to press through the thatch of dark curls that grew at the apex of her pelvis, and finally slipped his fingers into the satiny, wet skin of her slit. Michael's breath hitched as Spock began to circle her clitoris, pushing his fingers past and into her, only to pull them out and repeat the gesture again.

His other hand tugged her even closer, holding her tight from behind and the kiss turned quite heated as she sucked his lips into her mouth, one by one, her hand drifting between them to tentatively touch, to stroke the erection that was pressed firmly into her belly, and she heard his sharp intake of breath at the sensation. His lips made their way to Michael's ear, where she heard his sweet endearment, breathy and meaningful. "T'hyla."

His contentment rolled like gentle waves through their physical connection, relaxed, aroused, affirming. "Spock." Michael said his name like a sigh, leaned her head back and closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of him and what he was doing to her. "I want you."

Ducking down, Spock continued to press open mouthed kisses down her water soaked skin, across her chest and further, until he was kneeling in front of her, her thighs clasped in each of his hands. He glanced up at her, and she liked the way his wet hair had been mussed up by her fingers tangling there, at once making him look younger and also quite sexy. There was no mystery to what he was about to do and Michael found herself very anxious to know what his mouth would feel like on her most sensitive skin. Not able to help herself, she gave a little cry of need when he didn't immediately attend, only traced the creases of her thighs with his nose and teased the back of her knees with his fingertips. Placing a hand on the back of his head, Michael urged him to where she wanted him most, not caring about how wanton or needy she appeared, and he gladly did her bidding. His tongue between her legs might have been the best thing she'd ever felt, and God, he knew it, could most likely feel her swooning over the fact, building his ego up just that much more. She had nothing to hold onto except his hair, or maybe his ears, and if he hadn't been holding the back of her legs, they might have given out on her.

She came easily, her pleasure spilling into his senses, causing a low moan to issue from Spock's mouth, barely audible over the sounds of the hydro-shower. He rose to stand before her, kissing her mouth greedily as she tried to catch her breath. He was far from done with her. He turned her body away from him, but kept her hugged close to his chest, arms tight around her, rocking his pelvis against her bottom every so often. "You are the beautiful one," he said into her neck. She felt his probing fingers, then his achingly hard erection was pressing up into her while he clutched around her middle. He was bigger than she'd realized last night, because this morning, this angle, allowed him to penetrate deeper than before. It was a tight fit, causing her vagina to clench and flutter, and their combined pleasure once again had her dizzy and close. "Oh God," she cried.

He pulled almost all of the way out, then a hard thrust back in was followed by complete stillness. "Michael, I was under the assumption that science was your religion," he stated in his usual dry way. Too bad the strain in his voice belied the emotion that underlay his Vulcan repression.

"What?" she asked, her mind muddled with too many things to hold a conversation about spirituality.

"Twice now, you have called out to, whom I can only surmise is, the deity worshipped on Earth several hundred years ago. Do you now believe in this…God?"

Michael couldn't tell if he was sincerely curious or teasing her, but waited a short moment to clear her mind and answer his question. "You were correct. Science is my religion, but sometimes it isn't too farfetched to believe in a creator. Take your body, for instance, and how it fits perfectly in mine, well, it puts me in mind of a master architect and engineer. Your beauty, your body, your mind," -she turned her face up to nuzzle his jaw- "speak to me of an artist who lovingly, painstakingly, put you together. What if there is someone, more powerful than us, more benevolent than us that, out of all the people in the universe, picked you and me to be together. If he is out there, then I think he deserves some acknowledgement."

"That theory is illogical," he answered, but she could feel his affection for her after this strange proclamation, through his hands and the tender kisses he placed along the side of her neck, moving his hips again, slowly, deeply at first, then, in response to her quiet plea for more, faster. Bending her forward, he pressed her palms flat against the wall of the shower while keeping a hand around her hip, nestling his erection inside her core. He leaned heavily over her, mouth pressed to her shoulder, palming her breast, stroking hard and thrusting fast, becoming heedful only of one goal, of claiming her.

Because that was all he could think of. He wanted her in every way. Now that he'd had her he couldn't begin to imagine a life without her. He wanted her to be his and this desire leached into her brain and her heart and pumped through her veins all the way to her fingers and toes. "Tell me, T'hyla," he began to implore. "Tell me you're mine." His voice was rough with emotion, and he was quickly nearing his climax. Michael had never felt so full, with Spock's shaft pounding into her, his spirit shining though her, and his will testing hers. It was lovely and marvelous and she never wanted it to stop. She pressed her cheek into the cool wall of the shower, letting the heat of the water and the friction of Spock's body drain away her reticence.

"Please," he begged. "Say it." He clung to her, hand spread wide over her belly, and pressed his other palm hard into her hand that remained braced against the wall of the shower, letting his need and his hope ring through her, like the tolling of a bell, clear and deep and vibrating out of her fingertips. "Michael!" He was at the point of no return, that sweet, infinitesimal span of time right before, that made Michael hold her breath, then he let go deep inside her, his face pressed into her shoulder blades and breath ripping from his lungs. Her womb spasmed right along with him, her inner walls squeezing him gently as he stilled.

Michael wasn't sure she could stand, but Spock tenderly pulled her back to him, holding her close, and let the warm water wash away the evidence of their love making. They stood silent for a long moment, and Michael pondered on what would be the right thing to say. Turning in his embrace, she looked up at him, raised her arms to run her thumbs over his cheekbones, his jawline, and his eyebrows. "I am yours…in a way that I have never belonged to anyone," she said very seriously, expectant, and he nodded a stoic acknowledgement though she could feel a glorious elation bubbling up within him. "But, I also belong to myself. I am nobody's property. I am free to make my own decisions and govern my own body." He nodded once, curtly. Michael continued. "And if I am yours, then you are mine. Partners. Agreed?"

"That goes without saying," replied Spock and he pressed his forehead against hers, not hiding his relief at her words. He began to kiss her softly, but the computer alarmed an incoming call. Michael switched off the water, and Spock handed her a towel and wrapped one around his waist, stepping into his bedroom.

"Computer?" he said to the room at large.

"Incoming call from Captain Pike," said the computer.

"Send it through."

"Lieutenant Spock?" came the Captain's familiar voice over the com. Michael began to dress in her underclothes, and unfortunately she only had her used garments from the night before.

"Lieutenant Spock here. What can I do for you Captain?"

"Good morning," Pike said more exuberantly this time, and the Captain's good attitude was infectious. "Would you mind an early morning meeting in my ready room? I've got some news about the intel you and Commander Burnham found on the Andorian ship yesterday."

"Of course, Captain. I can be there in approximately," -Spock looked to Michael to see how far along she was in dressing or if she had an opinion, but he continued on when she shrugged- "fifteen minutes."

"Perfect!" Pike said, and Michael wondered what had him in such a good mood, better than usual, by the sounds of it. "Oh, speaking of Commander Burnham, have you happened across your sister this morning? I haven't been able to reach her on her com."

Michael and Spock shared a complicit look before he answered, "Yes, sir. She is here with me."

"Oh," he said. "Well, I guess the early bird catches the worm. Could you bring her along with you then, Spock? This involves her, too."

Michael grinned, shaking her head. "I'll be there, Captain."

Once dressed, Michael and Spock lingered at the door, putting off the beginning of the day for another minute. "I hope the meeting isn't too long," Michael stated. "I'm starving." Spock's fingers played through hers, his thumb brushing circles over her palm.

"Yes," he agreed. "May I accompany you to the mess hall after?"

She nodded, reaching up for one more chaste kiss, and wondered at his expression as she lowered herself back to her heels. "Try not to smile so much," she teased. "Captain Pike won't recognize you."

He touched his own mouth, trying to register the difference. "I will endeavor to do so," he said seriously.

"No," she admonished, pressing the button to open the door. "I'm just joking. I like your smile." She stepped out into the hall, laughing and pulling Spock by the hand, but stopped abruptly when she encountered Ash Tyler right outside the door. "Ash," she said in surprise, immediately dropping Spock's hand to stand straight and professional. Spock also stood at her shoulder, hands clasped behind his back, mirroring Michael's exact pose.

"Michael," Tyler replied, looking curiously between the siblings. "Lieutenant Spock. I was coming to see if you knew where Michael was. I haven't been able to get her on her com." Apparently Michael was popular this early morning. Tyler turned to Michael. "I went by your quarters and Tilly said you weren't there this morning." Michael glanced at Spock, but his expression had dropped to polite aloofness. Tyler continued, "No one has seen you since yesterday evening."

"I am sorry to have caused so much confusion. I wasn't aware that I would be needed. Is there something wrong?" Michael asked, concerned, beginning to wonder if they'd missed out on something in their evening together, too caught up in one another to notice the ship going down.

"No. No, nothing like that. I was wondering," and he glanced at Spock like he wished he would go away, "if we could talk?"

"Oh," she replied awkwardly. "Well, I suppose…" but she didn't finish her thought, couldn't finish her thought, as Spock found a bit of bare skin on her wrist to discreetly press a finger into. Memories of the night before, of their morning together, flooded her in pictures. The way her naked body looked against the sheets of his bed, her neck arched and eyes shut tight, calling Spock's name in ragged ecstasy. Then another flash of memory, his mouth against her core, water dripping down her body, the way she tasted, sweet and tangy, then the way her cheek pressed into the shower wall as he pounded into her this morning, and finally the way he'd felt when she had promised to be his, glorious and good and euphoric. It all made her dizzy and aroused, though a bit irritated as well. It was his silent passive aggressive way of claiming her, but all she could say to stop the onslaught was, "Spock," and it sounded less like a reprimand and more like a sensual invocation to her ears. Her cheeks suffused with warmth, both from the vivid and explicit memories Spock shared with her, and from having to relive it right in front of a colleague and friend.

"Are you alright?" Tyler asked in concern.

Spock withdrew his hand from Michael's skin, and turned his attention back to Tyler. "Commander Burnham is well. If you would excuse us, Lieutenant. We have an appointment with the Captain now in his ready room and we will soon be late. Then Commander Burnham requires sustenance, as she has likely exceeded her metabolic needs and is experiencing a calorie deficit. Your desire for a conversation with the Commander will need to be postponed."

Tyler looked to Michael for confirmation, but she was looking at Spock, shaking her head, an inexplicable grin on her face. "Ridiculous," she said to her brother, but it had nothing to do with their present conversation with Ash Tyler, and everything to do with the way Spock felt about Ash Tyler. Tyler was looking between the two of them like they were sprouting bunnicorn horns. "Illogical," she added, still shaking her head. Finally, she turned her attention back to Discovery's previous security officer. "Maybe later, then. Ok, Ash?" Spock literally growled and she hoped only she could hear it.

Spock turned abruptly and began briskly down the hall, and Michael fell in right behind him, leaving Tyler alone to speculate about such strange behavior between Vulcan siblings.

"I am not ridiculous," he said curtly.

"Yes, you are. And you're jealous," she accused. "I can't believe you don't trust me."

"It is not you I do not trust."

Michael didn't actually believe that for a second, although she gave him the benefit of the doubt that he did believe it, for total honesty was important to her brother. She let silence reign until they reached the Captain's ready room. Before Spock could reach for the button to slide the door open, Michael grabbed his hand. He looked down at her expectantly, and she let her own memories slip into his consciousness. The way his hair felt, soft and shaggy, between her fingers, and the way she'd felt more than herself, as if she were doubled or tripled, invincible. She remembered the feel of his hands on her thighs, the way he'd slid into her the very first time, and the soft, intimate groans of pleasure he had made into her neck.

It left him as disoriented as she had felt moments ago when he'd pulled the same trick on her. She did to remind him that he had nothing to worry about, that he could trust her, that she had enjoyed him as much as he had enjoyed her, but also she wanted a little vindication for making her experience something so private in front of someone she was trying to maintain a professional relationship.

"Michael," he said softly. "I apologize. I cannot promise it will not happen again, but I will do my best to control my emotions." His eyes were sincere and she forgave him immediately. There was much to overcome and many issues to navigate through if this thing they had started was going to work out.

"Good…because next time I can't promise I'll have so much self control. I might have to have my way with you right then and there, and then what would the crew think?" She was teasing and her forgiveness and lightheartedness made Spock smile again, and she didn't think she would ever get enough of seeing that smile.

Just then, Captain Pike opened the door and was surprised to see them standing on his threshold, so deep in conversation. "There you are," he said jubilantly. "I haven't had breakfast this morning yet. Let's say we take this meeting to the mess hall."

"Sounds perfect, Captain," Michael happily agreed.

The Captain smiled at each of them, then did a double take at Spock. "Are you smiling? I can't recall ever seeing you smile before, Lieutenant." Spock glanced sideways at Michael, no doubt remembering her warnings about smiling too much. Pike shook his head, pondering his loyal officers as he led the way down the hall, looking back at Spock once more, curiously, then at Michael, who couldn't help but be amused at the situation. The pair shared another complicit look under his gaze, maybe incriminating, as the Captain turned his attention forward, musing out loud. "Well, well, well. I wonder what could've happened to make you so happy this morning, Lieutenant?"

Michael bumped her shoulder against Spock, whispering, "I told you so."

The End