I want love to walk right up and bite me
Grab a hold of me and fight me leave me dying on the ground.

And I want love to split my mouth wide open and
Cover up my ears and never let me hear a sound.

I want love to, forget that you offended me
Or how you have defended me when everybody tore me down.

Yeah I want love to change my friends to enemies,
Change my friends to enemies and show me how it's all my fault.

Jack White, Love Interruption


Chapter Two


Quinn moved through the ship mechanically finishing his duties, checking for messages, and gathering the reports sent by the Belsavis Imperial attachment. There was an impressive amount of material to review, and normally, he would have spent the next several hours familiarizing himself with mission reviews, organizing his med supplies, and resting. It was his normal routine before landing on a new planet…

But the only thing his mind could settle on was her. Lord Sevign had gone to her quarters to "clean up" as she had put it. And her final words to him had been an invitation to join her when he was ready.

He realized he was stalling; it wasn't that he didn't want to be with her, but now that he was facing the next six-and-a-half hours alone with her, he found that his nerves weren't quite as prepared as he'd thought.

Peirce was making himself scarce. Vette was on the bridge; every time she caught Quinn's eye she grinned like an idiot, and seemed on the verge of a burst of laughter. How she knew what was about to transpire was anyone's guess, but as usual, it annoyed him.

Finally, without anything left to be done, he sighed and gathered the datapads in his hands. Vette turned in her seat at the helm.

"Going somewhere?"

He looked up. "To review the large amount of information sent from the planet with Lord Sevign. Mission preparation – same as always."

"Right," she said with a wink, then frowned. "So…you're wearing that?"

He looked down at his Imperial uniform. "I don't see how my clothes are of any significance when preparing for missions…"

Vette rolled her eyes dramatically, stood with a loud sigh, and walked over to Quinn. She took the datapads out of his hands before he could protest and tossed them into the Captain's seat. Quinn looked startled as Vette began combing her fingers through his black hair.

"Vette – what…stop," he stuttered. She ignored him.

"At this point you're better prepared for a mission than a romantic evening. Take off that jacket, at least…when did you bathe last?"

Quinn huffed. "That's completely irrelevant, not to mention none of your business," he said, shoving her hands away as she attempted to unbutton his uniform jacket. She slapped his hand and continued her work, jerking the uniform top off shoulders.

"You'll thank me later. Trust me, you want clothes that are easy to take off – these uniforms are impossible to get off and it will totally ruin the moment. I can't even believe there's going to be a moment, but…the least I can do is stop you from embarrassing yourself."

Finally, he stood clad only the simple long-sleeve undershirt. Vette yanked on it and pulled it free of his trousers.

"Vette – honestly, I think I can manage on my own," he said, feeling a deep blush creep into his cheeks. "I don't know how you know about…but I'd appreciate it being kept discreet."

Vette grinned. "It's a bit of a gift. Or maybe too many trashy romance novels; I'm not sure. But, listen…a happy Sith is a happy crew. Things have been a bit tense around here lately. So I'm counting on you to not screw this up. You need to go in there and rock her world. Make her feel like a woman, all that stuff."

Vette punctuated this statement by giving his arm a weak punch.

Quinn could only stare at her, flummoxed. "You are so annoying."

Vette smiled and stuck a small box in his face. "Breath mint?"

He stood in front of her door clutching the datapads in his sweaty hands. Vette's preparation had done little to soothe his nerves; in fact, he was more anxious than ever. So much depended on what happened next…his tactical mind reviewed every possible consequence in brutal detail.

You're being stupid, he told himself. She invited you here.

He cleared his throat quietly and rang the chime.

A voice, barely audible. "Come."

The hatch slid open and he stepped quickly inside, closing it behind him. The sounds of the ship outside drowned out and Malavai took notice of his surroundings. The room was darkened except for the controls and the monitor, and two candles burning atop a small altar. He realized this must be part of her meditation ritual; something that he had never been able to master. He found that quieting his mind was an impossible task. But then, he wasn't Force-sensitive…

"Quinn."

He turned and saw her; she was emerging from a rather spacious refresher room. He felt what he could only describe as an electric shock. She had transformed. Sevign wore an ankle-length silk robe in deep blue that revealed a sliver of leg. Her feet were bare. Her hair was damp from the refresher, but she had run her fingers through its lengths leaving it tousled.

"My Lord," he said with a short bow of his head. She smiled, shaking her head.

"Quinn, you don't have to address me so formally. We're in my bedroom; where I sleep, meditate and make love."

His eyes roamed over her but caught on the last thing she had said. "Have there been others?" Quinn asked, and then immediately wished he had not.

But she only smiled softly and took slow steps forward until she stood mere inches from him. "No, there's been only you, Quinn, and my sordid fantasies in which you were the star." She took the datapads from his hands. "Should I call you 'Quinn' or 'Malavai' then?"

He released a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding as he muttered, "I…prefer 'Quinn' actually. But that may be because I've become so fond of the way you say it."

She set the datapads down on her terminal and then closed the distance between them, her hands briefly sliding up his chest, neck, and face before pulling him down into a deep kiss. When she finally pulled away, Quinn marveled at how full and pink her lips had become, the flush of heat in her cheeks. He couldn't wait to see how the rest of her reacted.

"I feel like I've waited an eternity for this," she whispered, her lips ghosting over his. "Ever since the day I met you, on Balmorra, I wanted you. But of course, I wasn't exactly subtle, was I?"

"No," he replied, lips turning up into a smile. "But I never assumed you wanted anything more than to toy with me."

Her hands smoothed down his back; the left resting on his hip and the right kneaded his firm backside. "I have been cruel in the past, for my own amusement. I didn't find as much pleasure in it as I thought I would." She kissed him hard and quick, and met his gaze. "But I can honestly say that I have never felt a pull to another person the way I have with you…"

A stunned sort of expression washed over his face. "I…I had no idea, my lord," he said, his thumbs grazing her jawline. "But I hope you know that the sentiment is mutual. I have always been drawn to power, and you are power. Working alongside you, being your protector, your companion, has been a dream for me that I never thought possible as I languished on Balmorra. It was your power that drew me in…but your beauty, your grace, they entranced me. They kept me wanting more. But then I came to know you, how you exist simultaneously as a fierce warrior, as well as a gentle spirit, capable of both fury and compassion…"

He shook his head, finally at a loss for words, and kissed her.

"I can't believe you're real, my lord," he breathed against her lips.

"Such poetry," she sighed as his kisses travelled down to her neck, "will get you everything you desire." She laughed silently. "And I would compose something as beautiful for you if you weren't stealing my ability to…think…ooh…"

She didn't see it, but Quinn smiled. One hand tangled her thick hair; the other slid through the opening of her robe to touch soft, bare skin. He smoothed his hand along her ribcage, then the underside of her breast, his thumb grazing over her nipple. He felt a shiver pass through her. His hand dropped to her hip and pulled her to him with a jerk. She moaned.

Sevign stepped backward, pulling Quinn towards the bed. When she felt the solid frame behind her, she dragged him to her for another kiss while she pulled his tunic up from his waist, then over his head. It was dropped on the floor and forgotten.

Sevign took a moment to slide her long fingers over his naked chest; it was toned and more muscular than she expected. As she touched him he drew a ragged breath; his eyes filling with unabashed arousal.

Her deft fingers slid down his torso and paused at his belt. Kissing him fervently, she released the catch on the belt, and then the buttons of his trousers. He inhaled sharply as her delicate fingers slipped down inside. She dragged her open palm against his straining erection.

A low moan escaped Quinn's mouth; he was quickly losing what control he had left. When he felt her hand grasp him firmly, he became dizzy for a moment. It had been a long time since he'd been touched by a woman, and to be touched by her was enough to undo him completely.

Feeling all inhibitions leaving him, he parted her robe and bent his head to her neck, kissing his way down to her soft breasts. Her head fell back and he lowered her to the bed, covering her torso in kisses before returning to her mouth.

Sevign pushed herself toward the middle of the bed and pulled Quinn on top of her; he lay beside her and continued his exploration of her torso. She arched her back as his hand slid down between her legs, petting the manicured patch of soft hair and slipping a finger between her slick folds. He pulled back to watch her reactions to his touch; nothing gave him more satisfaction than to see her writhe.

She bit her lip and whimpered as his long finger dipped further inside, and then out. He smirked triumphantly.

Quinn pushed himself up on his knees and knelt between hers. She gasped in surprise as his mouth connected with her heated sex, her body arching further forward, seeking more contact. He attacked her clitoris with fervor; he'd fantasized about bringing her to orgasm for weeks, maybe months and he wasn't going to draw this out. His groin ached more by the moment, fueled by her moaning, her gasping, and the way her fingers raked his scalp, twisting in his hair, urging more, more, more

She suddenly tensed beneath him and cried out as her release washed over her; it seemed to go on forever and he wanted it to. He tasted her nectar as he continued to apply pressure and friction until he could siphon nothing more from her body, and she lay still and quiet and quivering in the aftermath, whispering his name over and over.

Quinn sat back, looking down at her. It gave him a sense of masculine pride, this exquisite woman, naked, wet and positively spent. Some evil part of him wished that Peirce could see this, and know that he, Quinn, had been the instrument of her gratification. He licked his lips and tasted her again, trying his hardest to commit it to memory.

She exhaled a long, satisfied sigh.

He lay beside her once again, the way they had started out, and stroked her belly.

"That was…to say that was 'amazing' would be an insult, it was…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "Dare I ask how you got such a talented tongue?" She turned to him, a sensuous smile on her lips.

He didn't answer her; he only smiled.

"Now…" she purred, pushing him onto his back. "Let's see what noises I can coax out of you."

She settled beside him and wasted not a second. Her deft fingers opened his trousers fully and pushed down inside, grasping his swollen length. As her fingers played with him, her mouth laid kisses on his chest, her tongue sliding over the dips and valleys created by his muscles. His chest rose and fell rapidly in anticipation. He breathed a heavy sigh of pleasure as her mouth moved over his body, her hair gently tickling his skin.

Somehow she worked his trousers down while still maintaining her efforts on his upper body. Quinn was lost in between the sensations of her hands, her mouth, her hair. So much so that it was a surprise when her warm, wet mouth enveloped his swollen member. He tensed and let out a low groan, which only encouraged her further. He lifted his head from the bed and looked down at her, but all he could see was a curtain of her hair gently bobbing up and down. He would only last a minute or two if she continued…

He pulled gently on her arm and she stopped to look up at him.

"This will be over all too soon if you keep doing that," he said, his eyes heavy with need. He wanted her to continue, but more than anything he wanted to be inside her, to experience her the way he fantasized about all those nights lying alone and still and hard in his bunk, the way he imagined when he brought about his own release in the refresher, so careful not to make a sound.

The way she looked as she crawled on top of him nearly caused him to finish prematurely. Her hair was a wild mess; the way it looked after a battle. Her eyes were dark and focused. The robe still hung loosely from her shoulders, partially obscuring her body. One taut nipple peeked through the curtain of blue silk as she moved to settle over his hips, her wet core sliding over his agonizing erection. He hissed.

With a sudden jerk, he slid into her, filling her to the hilt. His mind was flung into sensory overload for a moment, and he had just enough control to keep his eyes open. Her mouth fell open and her eyes squeezed shut. She started to move; at first it was slow…smooth. She bent and captured his mouth in a violent kiss; teeth and tongues warring and colliding. And then the she threw her head back once again and increased the pace, her hips crashing into his with strength only a Sith could muster.

Quinn ground his teeth and grasped her by the hips, raising his own body to meet her vigorous surges. Her hands clawed at his chest, her fingernails scraping against his sensitive nipples, and trailed down to where their bodies were joined. Quinn watched in astonishment as she began to stimulate herself. The effect was almost immediate. Within seconds he felt her slick interior begin to contract and pulse around him. This sent him spiraling over the edge.

She let out a sound that was both a groan and a scream, riding out the orgasm and siphoning his with relentless power. His cry was quieter but the whole galaxy could have heard him and he wouldn't have cared. When it finally ended, she collapsed on top of him, her chest heaving against his and her sweat mingling with his.

He put his arms around her.

She rolled to his side and laid her head on his chest. "Gods…"

Quinn wasn't certain what to say. His mind was blissfully blank, for once. His heart, on the other hand, felt fit to burst inside his chest, so filled with affection for the woman in his arms he wondered if he might weep. How long it had been since he'd felt a real connection to another person? How long had had he felt so alone? It wasn't something he thought about anymore; just accepted it. Now the chains had been cast off, his heart beat again for something other than the Empire. It was a strange epiphany and he wished that he could stifle it for the moment. It was too much…too much. He blinked.

As if she could sense it, she raised her head and met his eyes. There was concern there, and he berated himself. She was Sith, after all, and she probably could sense the emotion coming off of him in waves. Get yourself together, damnit.

She considered him for a moment, before a drunken smile spread across her lips. Without words, she kissed him softly, tenderly. Then she settled into the crook of his arm and placed her hand on his chest, her fingers idly exploring his bare skin.

"Watching you lose your composure was quite cathartic for me," she said playfully.

The corners of Quinn's mouth twitched. "I'm happy to provide a boost to your ego, my Lord. I'm certain that it suffers."

"It does," she said earnestly. "Every time I fail to crack that stony façade of yours, it brings me down. I need to know that there is really no one in the galaxy that I can't unhinge."

Quinn cleared his throat. "As I was saying about your ego… terribly wounded. And I am your medic, after all."

Listening to her laughter, and feeling his own spread through his chest, he realized he had not felt this happy in so very long. It was a strange feeling, not unwelcome, but strange. He was a man of facts, of duty. The Empire was his life, his one true love. There was nothing…literally nothing he couldn't do or wouldn't do for its glory.

But in that moment, he questioned himself. Doubted himself.

As she pulled a blanket over their cooled bodies, the smile slid away from his face, and deep in his chest, a feeling of foreboding was born.

Maybe he was being cynical, which was his usual approach. Hope for the best, and plan for the worst, his mother had always said. But in his experience, hope was for fools. Hope amounted to naught whereas careful planning and a cunning spirit won every time. It was easy to live life this way for a man who had no other love but his beloved Empire.

He suddenly realized that the sense of foreboding he felt was knowing that he now loved something that could be taken from him.