A/N: Originally written for the Writing Rainbow flash (Silver) on AO3 for LittleRaven.
Slay Me with Silver; Gild Me with Gold
Michael stood with her hands clasped together behind her. It was the only way to keep them from shaking. Here in the belly of the beast there was no room for error, no room for doubt. She regarded the agonizer in front of her with her expression ironed clear of any emotion. Among the crew of the ISS Shenzhou - her crew, for now at least - she could not waver.
The hypospray concealed in her inner pocket seemed nearly pointless. Inside the booth, her captain writhed and convulsed with each new jolt to the synapses. Had the previous dose done anything at all? He was unable to keep eye contact with anyone in the room. Michael turned to the operator, swallowing the urge to demand he be freed immediately.
"Give him another hour. Then send him to my quarters." Even her tone - casual, as though this was as straightforward as relaying the order to change course - felt alien to herself.
She didn't allow herself to retreat. That surely would have been worse; to spend the next stretch of minutes simply waiting and wondering if Lorca would break under the strain. Instead Michael rejoined the crew on the bridge. There was nothing quite like knowingly walking into the viper pit. At least she had her eyes open now. And she was a killer, too, just like them. Not as prolific as her counterpart she was playing, but Michael was not unfamiliar with the blood on her hands.
Diving into those melancholic thoughts was only marginally better than ruminating over the fate of her captain. It got her through the next seventy minutes before one of the bridge officers relayed the message that Lorca had been deposited in her ready room for interrogation.
She faltered only once when the door opened to reveal a security officer making mincemeat of Lorca's jaw with the butt of a baton. Lorca fell to the ground, his wrists bound and a pained cry cut off by a second blow. Then Michael let that cold persona in once more. Striding forward, she snatched the officer's wrist in a bone-crushing grip before he could swing again. Something drawled from her mouth as she brought her blade to kiss the officer's throat. He stepped aside with a murderous expression, yet remained obedient nonetheless.
Once he left and they were alone, Michael dropped to her knees. She cast aside the knife and reached to cup the captain's chin with her hand. He flinched from the contact before resting the side of his face on her instead.
Michael found herself transfixed as she regarded Lorca. She was studying to see what injuries could be tended, what bleeding could be staunched, yet her eyes were drawn mostly to his. As he leaned into her hand, they fluttered closed. She should have gone for the hypospray in her pocket or the emergency aid kit that Ash had stashed when they arrived. But Lorca was barely holding himself up as it was. If she moved, he would fall.
He murmured something and Michael tried to admonish him. It would only exacerbate the injury on his jaw. She still hadn't determined if anything was broken. Then the meaning of his words clicked and Michael demanded he repeat himself, just to be certain.
"You're beautiful when you're angry."
A/N: I apparently can't stay away from writing ambiguous Michael/Lorca scenes especially in the mirrorverse. Oh well!
Blanket statement for my oneshots - Please do not ask if I am continuing these. They are single "chapter" fics which I am considering complete. Thank you. - DragonMaster65