Michael Burnham was being hunted.
Whoever thought it would be funny to release Orion pheromones into the air ducts of the grounded starship they used for training had been very wrong indeed. When they were caught, and Michael had an idea Cadet Finnegan was responsible, they would likely be suspended, if not outright expelled from Starfleet Academy.
In all honesty, Michael didn't think that was too harsh a punishment. She was even tempted to add flogging, but then again, that could've been the pheromones talking. Considering how violent her thoughts often got, she wondered if perhaps she wasn't a part of the small percentage of people immune to the effects of the pheromones, like Dr. McCoy thought. She patted her pocket to make sure the compound he needed for an antidote was still there and found it securely in place.
Michael waited at the corner of the hall, her back pressed to the cool plaster of the wall as the red emergency lights pulsed around her. She took in the sounds around her. Somewhere in the distance she heard moaning that had the distinctive sound of sexual pleasure to it. There was also a banging sound, as though someone violently beat against a bulkhead with something heavy.
As cautiously as she could Michael peered around the corner, hoping the man who pursued her wasn't there. It would be easier to head down that corridor to a turbolift and simply head back to sickbay. Her breath nearly caught in her throat when she saw that it wasn't to be so easy as simply taking a turbolift. Her former foster brother stood at the end of the hall. His head was cocked to the side, listening, and she knew one false move would alert him to her presence, if he wasn't already aware of her.
Nobody knew better than her how keen a Vulcan's senses could be, especially a young one in their prime, as Spock was. His hearing, sense of smell, taste, and strength was much more sensitive, much stronger, than a human's. He sniffed the air and began to turn in her direction. Michael resisted the urge to jerk back and give her location away to Spock. Even with the red alert klaxon blaring she knew he would hear her. He probably already sensed her there, considering his psychic ability. Deciding not to risk waiting, Michael took off down the hall in the direction she'd just come.
"Michael! Stop!"
She looked back to see Spock skid to a stop where she'd been standing moments ago. There wasn't a trace of the boy she'd known growing up. There was now a young man, leaning on the wall, flushed green and sweat beading on his skin. There was madness in his eyes. No, not madness. Lust.
"You're always running from me! It's what you do best isn't it?"
"You're not yourself, Spock. We need to find a way to evacuate the ship and get everyone help."
"I have never been truer to myself than I am right now, Sister. Come to me."
She hated the mocking tone in his voice when he called her sister. "Spock…"
She turned and used her palm to slide open the door to the storage room she'd taken shelter in for the past hour. She nearly screamed when she shut the door to see Spock had nearly made it down the length of the hall before she could hit the close button. Would the door shut in time? She knew Spock was fast, but this kind of speed was alarming. The door snapped shut barely a second before his outstretched hand could reach her.
The door rattled in the frame, proof of Spock's inhuman strength. He screamed her name from the other side as she cowered, trembling, unable to move, frozen in place by fear. What exactly would he do if he caught her? Rape her? She couldn't imagine Spock doing anything so vulgar, especially to her.
"Michael…" He practically moaned her name, sounding pained. Desperate. "Do you not remember the first time you saw me as a man? I do."
She tried to scream but her words got caught in her throat. She choked them out. "Shut up, Spock. Don't speak of that."
"Mother's Valentine's Day party," he continued, forcing her to remember. "You convinced me to grant a temporary truce in our never-ending war. We stole the bottle of gin Ambassador Tinsley brought Mother as a gift. We laughed at his obvious infatuation with her. We watched him ask her to dance, and then laughed again when father cut in."
"That was the first time we'd laughed together in years," she sighed. She closed her eyes and gave into the memory. It was right before she was to return to the Academy after winter break during her second year. She and Spock drank the gin straight. The alcohol had burned at first, but then they'd gotten used to it.
"You got hot and took your shirt off," she said, closing her eyes and remembering the night. She'd been shocked at how he'd developed into a real man. How muscular he'd been. How hairy his chest was. Most Vulcan men had very little body hair, but Spock's human half had made him quite hirsute, and she'd been aroused by it. "I felt…I…"
"You wanted me," Spock said. His voice was muffled on the other side of the door, but still audible. "I kissed you, and you opened your mouth to me, and gripped my shoulders. Remember how it felt when I put my fingers between your legs?"
Michael gasped. She was sure Spock had reached out and touched her mind, enhancing the memory psychically. She could feel him rubbing her over her trousers. Feel his fingers pressing against her clit and sending shocks through her.
"Remember my tongue in your mouth? The taste of me and the way my weight settled on you when I laid you down? Don you not remember how you ached for me to pull your panties down before I pushed my way into your tight, throbbing pussy? Do you not remember the way you ached for me to be inside you?"
"Stop it, Spock!"
She pulled away from him, moving backward, and called in her years of training from Sarek to block Spock's attempts to invade her mind. She slowly regained control of herself, shut Spock out, and turned to the access panel that would give her an escape route to sickbay.
"Michael! Open the door! Please, I need you. We can be together again. We can enjoy one another the way we did that night, on the rooftop courtyard. We were under the stars, flesh to flesh, and it felt so good. Let us feel good again."
Her heart broke at the plaintive quality to his voice. She knew his need was artificially induced but it still caused him pain. Despite her determination to resist, she wanted to feel him inside of her as she'd felt him that night.
"Do not leave me like this," he pleaded.
Those were exactly his words the last time she saw him on Vulcan, begging her to stay, to replace T'Pring as his promised. She'd chosen Starfleet, and now, in her final year, Spock had chosen to join Starfleet as well, as though he unconsciously chased her.
A hard hit to the door caused it to buckle ever so slightly, sparking fear in Michael's belly, and to remind her just how strong Spock was. She pulled the access panel at the back of the storage space off and then climbed in. She quickly replaced it before hurrying through the Jeffries tubes that would lead to the exit at sickbay.
Concentrating on the climb helped focus Michael's mind. She pulled herself up three decks before crossing two more corridors. She paused outside of sickbay and listened for any sign of activity. She heard a familiar southern drawl. Leonard McCoy. After opening the hatch, she realized the trouble he was in.
"Now, listen to me, young lady," he was saying. "I appreciate the situation you're in but you're not yourself right now."
"Who cares? Let's play doctor. You can," the young woman reached low and squeezed McCoy's crotch, "give me a thorough pelvic exam."
He swallowed and tried to step away from her. Relief flooded his face as he caught sight of Michael.
"Thank God, Miss Burnham!"
"You want some privacy?" Michael joked. McCoy didn't find it at all amusing.
"She can join us," the woman said. She was young, undoubtedly in her first year. Slender and blond with eyes as blue as the ocean on a summer day. Michael held the small canister with the compound up for him to see.
"Fine, come inside," McCoy said. The young woman insistently ran her hands over his chest and back as she followed McCoy into sickbay. They sealed the doors shut and Michael sighed in relief. There was no way brute force would be enough for Spock to break through the doors. She was safe.
Rather than looking out into space the ports offered a view of San Francisco Bay. The sky was overcast for the third day in a row. December had brought rain and cloudy skies. Even as she stood at the viewport, looking out on the boats bobbing in the wind-roughened waters, rain began pelting the window until it was too blurry to make anything out.
"Please, Miss, if you just let me finish up here, I can begin our little game of Doctor. Wouldn't that be nice? Go sit with Miss Burnham."
The girl turned to Michael and allowed her eyes to roam over her body with open interest.
"Such a beautiful young woman," the girl said. "Wanna play nurse while we wait for the good doctor?"
"Nah, I'm good. Really."
She pouted and continued her advance. "That's no fun."
Michael was saved by sudden pounding on the doors. It was frantic, as was the tone in the woman's voice.
"Help! Please, let me in!"
McCoy looked up from his station, where he calculated the correct measurements of each compound to go into his antidote.
"I don't recognize her voice," Michael said. "Could be a ploy to get in and harm us."
"Or it could be someone in need of shelter," McCoy said.
"We can't risk your safety, Doctor. The doors should remain closed."
"Pardon me, Missy, but you're a cadet and I'm a commissioned officer. I outrank you. I say open the doors."
"Sir…"
She doubted she could convince him to keep the doors shut, but maybe she could convince him to be smart about it.
"At least keep working while I answer it."
"Fine, but don't take too long," he agreed.
Michael grabbed the only phaser in the room and headed to the door, where the banging continued. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she hit the door release and aimed the phaser. A young woman stood on the other side, her face streaked with tears, her eyes bright with fear. Red skin along the left side of her face promised a bruise that would darken her eye, cheek, and her swollen mouth.
"Marla?"
"Please let me in. He's gonna—"
A hand reached around the door and snatched the phaser from Michael's grip. A moment later Spock stepped into view. He shoved Marla into sickbay and pointed the phaser he'd taken from Michael at McCoy.
"Don't!" Michael shouted, moving between Spock and his target. "He's developing an antidote to the pheromones, Spock. We need him so everyone can return to normal."
"I am quite satisfied with how I feel right now."
"Spock think about what you're doing, and how violent you've become. You struck Marla. You're threatening the doctor who could cure us. You…you want to rape me."
"I don't want to rape you, Michael. I want to please you, the way I did the night of the Valentine's Day party. You want me, too. I can sense it."
Michael struggled to swallow. Her throat clicked, dry, as she kept herself between Spock and McCoy.
"Listen to her, son," said McCoy. "I'm thirty minutes away from synthesizing this antidote."
"I am not your son," Spock practically hissed. "And just so you know, I have daddy issues."
He started to shove Michael out of the way, but she dodged his hand and remained planted between Spock and the doctor.
"I'll make you a deal," Michael said. "Leave Dr. McCoy to his work and I'll come with you. We'll go somewhere private to be alone."
Spock focused on Michael. "You swear it?"
"I swear it."
Michael wasn't sure Spock even believed her considering how long he kept the phaser aimed at McCoy while staring her in the eye. Finally, he nodded at another room off of main sickbay.
"In there."
"I can't allow you to go with him under duress," McCoy said.
Michael immediately held up a hand to silence him. "My choice. I can handle Spock. You work on the antidote."
She moved past McCoy, stepping into the private exam room. The rain lashed against the viewport, the only sound in the room aside from her thudding heart. There was a single exam bed in the center of the room. Judging by the design and the stirrups it was likely made for birthing. She heard Spock putting in a complicated code to lock the door.
"How did you find me?"
"I followed your scent," he replied from close behind her. She could feel his breath hot on her neck.
"Whatever you're going to do, do it."
He turned her to face him. Without the phaser to distract her, and in the steady bright lights of sickbay, Michael got a good look at Spock. He was paler than she'd ever seen him, as though bloodless. Sweat still beaded on his skin. He steepled his fingers in front of his lips and closed his eyes, as though in prayer.
"Spock?"
"You still reject me."
Guilt flooded her chest. She inched closer to him and reached for his hands.
"I'm not rejecting you, Spock. I just know this isn't you. I know you're acting by an outside influence. If you'd come to me as yourself I would probably…"
"Probably fuck me? Probably?"
There was such a wounded look on his face that Michael inwardly cringed. She reached for him, placing her hands on his face. At once she was assaulted with everything Spock felt. The hurt, confusion, above all else, the uncontrollable lust.
"I keep hurting you," she whispered. "I never mean to, but it keeps happening."
Spock's desires spread through her palm and into her arm. Like a shot of venom from a serpent's fangs she felt his lusts infect her. It didn't take long for her pulse to pick up, and wetness to soak into her panties. She moved away from him, hurrying to the viewport to stare at the fresh drops that slapped against the glass. She struggled to bring her breathing under control even as that familiar ache of need began to throb in her center.
He came to her, as much a victim of uncontrolled need as she was. Michael felt the heat radiate off Spock's body, where it warmed her back like warmth from a fire. Vulcans burned as hot as a desert sun, and Spock, despite his human half, was no less pyretic than any other virile, green-blooded Vulcan male.
"Let me touch you…I beg you."
Everything happened so quickly. One moment the word "yes" had slipped past her lips, and the next Spock's right hand plunged into her trousers, slipping into her panties where his fingers found her clit and began stroking with the lightest touch. She cried out, unable to hold in her need, and pushed back, wantonly grinding her ass against the turgid bulge of his erection. He gave as good as he got, pressing back and putting delicious pressure on her aching entrance.
"I will not force you," he whispered, his deep voice vibrating in her ear and making her ache harder for him. "I will stop, no matter how much it would hurt to do so."
"Don't stop. Oh fuck, don't stop for anything."
"Are you certain?"
"Spock, damn it!"
She was sure she felt his lips curve up in a smile as he pressed them against her neck for a kiss. Her body longed for more of him, and she couldn't stop from grinding hard against him as he eagerly unzipped her trousers and began to push the material out of the way.
A moment later Spock's hardness was between her legs as he slid his cock through her slit, slicking himself with her wetness and teasing her with a promise of what he had to offer. The head of his dick grazed her clit, sending jolts of pleasure deep inside. She moaned, partly frustrated by the tease even as she enjoyed it. It wasn't until he wrapped a hand around her neck that she knew he was done teasing and was ready to deliver.
He eased her forward, bent her over a bit more before he put himself at her entrance and moved forward. Despite her intense state of arousal, there was just a moment of pain as he pushed inside. She hissed and forced herself not to tense up.
"Are you alright?" Spock whispered.
She nodded and breathed out, allowing him to ever so gently enter her.
Michael adjusted her clothes just as the air filtration system kicked in. She could smell something in the air—some kind of chemical that coated the back of her throat with a sour taste. Spock frowned at the smell before gripping his head and bending over in pain.
"Spock?"
"Dr. McCoy's antidote, no doubt," he said, taking a few deep breaths before standing upright again.
"How do you feel?"
"More like myself."
He looked down at her and touched her face. He allowed his emotions to play clearly across his features. Pain, regret.
"I never wanted to frighten you, or force myself on you."
"You haven't," she assured him. "I wanted you. I wanted this to happen."
"You ran from me, and rightfully so."
"Spock," she said, gripping his shoulder as he tried to turn from her. She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "You weren't yourself. Most of the cadets here were vulnerable to the pheromones. Don't be too hard on yourself."
"What does this mean? For us?"
"I don't know."
He closed his eyes and nodded. "I should have known that would be your answer. Next you will say you want to go back to pretending to be family."
Spock tried to push her away, but Michael held on.
"I said I don't know, because I don't. So rather than jumping to conclusions, why don't we get the hell out of here and go get some lunch?"
"Lunch?"
"Yeah. We can report Cadet Finnegan for his little stunt after that. And then after that…well, lets start with a nap. My quarters. I'm dead tired."
"Very well," he said, allowing her to take his hand in hers and lead him from the room. "I will need your help in finding a gift for Cadet Marla Thomas. I…I hurt her in my efforts to find you."
"I'm sure she understands you weren't yourself, Spock. None of us really were."
They searched sickbay as they moved through. Marla was under the care of Dr. McCoy, who treated her injuries so there would be no bruises left. She made no effort to make eye contact with Spock or Michael.
"You've improved, you know," she said, as they headed through sickbay and into the corridor.
"Improved?"
"At sex," she clarified. "You were quite a beast this time. You've built up stamina."
She watched Spock's face flush a light shade of green before allowing herself to give in to a rare fit of laughter. When the turbolift doors slid shut, she saw that Spock smiled with her.