Disclaimer: see chapter one
What had just happened? Kathryn forced herself to focus her mind. Her headache had gone from throbbing agony to pounding obscenity in the span of five minutes. She'd let slip her highly inappropriate feelings for her first officer, who'd then practically attacked her by way of a response…with his mouth, no less.
With his warm, sensual, perfectly sculpted and quite talented mouth…Stop it, Kathryn.
The moment, though satisfying, though thrilling and intensely stimulating, had done absolutely nothing to resolve any of the issues lingering between them. If anything, it had probably served to complicate matters far more in the long run.
Thanks to the revelations of only hours before, the captain now had a fair idea of just what had been behind her strange ill temperament of the past few weeks: jealousy. It galled her to know it, to have to admit it, but Kathryn Janeway was certainly not above the simple human emotion of jealousy. Not if her recent temper was any indication, at any rate.
That, she could handle. Now that she'd been made aware of it, she could watch out for it, prepare for it…guard against it.
But it had been more than that, more than the envy. There'd been something infinitely more devastating in her first officer's seemingly callous affair with the rogue Borg leader: it had hurt. It had hurt like hell.
Granted, the situation had been emotionally exhausting while he'd been down on that planet, and granted he'd just lost Ensign Kaplan, who had been his responsibility at the time. Of all people, she knew how that felt, what it did to one's insides…
Granted, he'd been seriously injured but…could any of that excuse such a glaringly obvious betrayal of his supposedly deep feelings for his captain? Had he sincerely developed similar feelings for the former Starfleet officer while spending that short bit of time with the woman on that planet?
She didn't think she could bear it if he had…if it was that easy for him, if he was that shallow, that fickle…if his affections could be so easily gained and lost. It didn't fit with the description of the man she thought she knew.
So had it been just about the sex, then? And if it had, did that somehow make it all right? Was it just that simple for him? A matter of physical comfort because she, Kathryn, was unable to offer what he craved? And he had had sex with the woman; this she knew from the doctor's predictably thorough report.
Unbidden, her stomach twisted treacherously at the thought, just as it had when she'd read that report initially. Her uniform jacket still bore the stain from the coffee she'd accidentally spit out upon reading those uncompromising words. At least now she knew it was hurt which had prompted the unusual loathing for the concept that he had slept with Riley. At the time, a tiny part of her had feared that it was the fact that the woman was a former Borg which had made her ill. At least she didn't have to worry that she was that closed-minded, that prejudiced after all…
But back to the question – or questions – at hand. Hadn't Chakotay stood in her office just a few short months before all of this, admittedly "bothered" by Q's attention toward her? Yes, he had. And that barely a few months after declaring his eternal devotion to her… No matter that he'd done so in obscure language and through thinly veiled references. She'd been meant to take them as the declaration of love he'd intended that little Angry Warrior speech to be. She was certain of that. Well…fairly certain…
She hardly felt the tug of Enahr's grip on her arm as he pulled her along behind him. She entered the corridor after him, hobbling unsteadily on her good leg and trying to favor the injured ankle as much as possible. It hadn't hurt so much while lying or standing, but walking had become a special agony…
Shaking her head clear of everything but her surroundings, she carefully surveyed the long, dim corridor, trying to memorize the route she was being escorted along…
"I don't suppose it will do any good to ask where you're taking me?" she quipped dryly.
"You'll see soon enough," he responded cryptically. Infuriatingly.
For her part, Kathryn opted not to resist. It wouldn't do her or, more importantly, her first officer any good to cause trouble now, not while they were separated… She caught herself wondering ruefully just how long it would take him to realize the situation and why she'd had such an uncharacteristic change of heart about who would be subject to Enlin's interrogation. Amazingly, she decided that she wasn't looking forward to facing him when he did – assuming he made it through the interrogation in one piece, of course…
She shivered inwardly despite the stifling heat. He WOULD make it through. He had to. They'd been in far worse situations before and they'd managed thus far…
An hour, she decided. She would give him one hour. If he didn't show after that, she would have to wrangle his location out of Enahr and rescue him. And she would do so by any means possible, if necessary…even if she had to forcefully pry it out of the sneering idiot's mouth one syllable at a time. The image brought a tiny smile to her lips.
They'd hardly gone more than a few meters when the stocky, black-skinned alien was ushering her inside a steel door, pushing her into the room ahead of him and interrupting her careful study. For a moment, she allowed herself to know a tiny trickle of fear. The room was dark – pitch black, actually. And Janeway knew from years of experience that only bad things usually happened in the dark…
"Lights," Enahr called, and she breathed an imperceptible sigh of relief as she looked around her. The room was tiny compared to the storage unit in which she and Chakotay had been held. It was filled with medical equipment. Instantly, she scanned the trays and shelves of medical devices for something, anything which could potentially be used as a weapon…
"Up there, honey," he grunted, interrupting her train of thought again and indicating the solitary bunk centered in the middle of the room. When she gave him only a mutinous glare for an answer, he smiled thinly. "Unless you'd like help?" His eyes slid over her in that seedy way, overly obvious in his appraisal. "I'm sure I could manage to give you a hand…or two."
She raised an eyebrow at him, showing her disdain. His species was unlike any they'd encountered before. They were clearly humanoid, but with odd black, wrinkled skin that gave them a rather sinister appearance. And apart from their tracking skills, she wasn't entirely convinced of their intelligence…
Not knowing how far she should push Enahr's loyalty to his leader, though, Kathryn tossed him a contemptuous glance and awkwardly managed to shift herself onto the biobed. With her arms still restrained behind her, it was a difficult feat. Using her good leg to brace herself, she hopped up onto the bunk and set herself into the most defensive posture possible.
"Why have you brought me here? Where would the commander have been taken?" she demanded, fixing the alien with her best glare. "And I thought your orders were to take me to the others…"
Enahr burst out laughing, drawing an even more deathly glare from the Starfleet captain. As the room was so small, hardly larger than her closet, he was close enough to lean forward and give her a proprietary pat on the cheek. "I thought you promised to behave, Captain?"
She hissed at him, snatching her head back and away from his hand, which only had him chuckling again. Leaning in close to her, to her horror, he brought his thin mouth (which did not boast any lips that she could determine) to her ear and whispered, "You may have fooled Enlin, but that's only because he isn't as fond of you as I am. You and I both know that you're the one in charge on that mysterious ship of yours, don't we?"
She stiffened, her mind racing, turning and staring at him with all the focus her throbbing head could muster. He drew back and gazed almost fondly into her eyes, his own yellow cat's eyes twinkling with amusement as he did so.
So Enahr wasn't so daft after all. Interesting, she thought, her blue eyes surveying him with just a tiny bit of admiration. He either played stupid for her benefit or, as she was beginning to suspect, for Enlin's…
In a normal volume, Enahr boasted, "Your commander is being taken care of. If he answers Enlin's questions satisfactorily, he'll be just fine, honey. As to why you're here, I thought I'd take a look at that leg you're limping on. Looks somewhat painful. And after that, we can begin working on those enhancements. They'll take some time to complete, and we only have two weeks to get you ready for the market."
So it was for Enlin's benefit then, Kathryn decided. They were most likely being monitored, just as she and Chakotay had been monitored in that cargo hold while they …
Oh, no. She wasn't touching that one again…not until she'd first ensured that there was no opportunity for escape that was being overlooked in this tiny room.
Enahr turned away from her, but only enough to search the highest shelf for the correct piece of equipment. She watched him carefully, one eye on him and the equipment he rifled through, and the other scanning over the shelves within her reach. If she could only find something that might be used as a weapon…he continued to talk as he searched through the shelves. "Of course if your commander ISN'T cooperative, that would mean a great deal more fun for me." He tossed a lecherous glance over his shoulder, making her lament the fact that she was still clad only in her rather poorly adjusted undergarments.
But he'd already turned his attention back to the shelf. "Now where could that evaluator be? Nope, that's not it." He tossed something haphazardly back on the shelf, startling her with the commotion he was making. "Incidentally, honey, you should really work on that temper of yours. If someone DOES buy you, you can bet your skinny little behind he won't be quite so forgiving as we are with…ah. There."
He turned back to her and she shifted casually (she hoped) to her left, concealing the shelf she'd been eyeing from his gaze. Kathryn's eyes widened innocently as the alien's suspicious gaze followed her movements. "What were you doing just now?" he demanded, looking over her shoulder as he took the single step forward bringing him to the side of the bed she rested upon.
"Nothing." She turned her most brilliant smile on him, shrugging one shoulder lightly. "Just having a look around. Can't blame a girl for being curious, can you?"
He glanced down at her, relaxing into her change of attitude – somewhat. "I suppose not." He returned her smile, nudging closer to her. "Just don't get any bright ideas, understand?"
Janeway beamed back at him, and did her best to keep from vomiting all over him. Her face was the very picture of innocence.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Enahr," she replied with ease.
Damn her.
Chakotay sat stiffly in his "seat". The chair had obviously been crafted for one of Enlin's species, and as such, it was a bit too low and long for him to recline in comfortably; the aliens had abnormally long thighs by human standards.
Damn her to hell. He was going to kill her. He was going to…
"One more time, then, Commander, for the record's sake," Enlin drawled dangerously from behind him.
The alien stood far too close for Chakotay's liking. Thus far, he had done his best to maintain his cool, and not to give anything away while appearing to cooperate. With Kathryn (and potentially Tom and Harry) elsewhere on the alien ship, he didn't want to risk crossing that fine line of careful resistance into outright defiance and risk pushing the unknown alien captor over the edge…
But, oh, was he going to kill her!
"What is your race called?"
"Human,' Chakotay supplied, still unable to completely exorcise the provocative vision of his captain lying on the metal grating of the deck, her hair fanned out, framing her glowing face and her lips swollen from his own vigorous attentions to them…
Still unable to fully rid himself of the feel of her warm, incredibly soft skin against his…it had felt like a dream. A hazy, delirium induced dream. But for the fact that he could still taste her, still detect the hint of the coffee that had been the last thing to pass her lips before the shuttle crash, he might have convinced himself that it WAS a dream. A dream like so many others that had haunted his nights for an agonizing year now…
Oh, but he was still going to throttle her. Nothing was going to be able to excuse the situation she'd knowingly sent him into…
"Where did you say you were from again?"
"Earth," Chakotay gritted, knowing that this much at least the captain would have told him.
"I see. And Earth is where, again?"
"The Alpha Quadrant." The repetition was growing tiresome. His arms hurt. He felt as though he was losing circulation in them entirely…all he really wanted, if he was honest with himself, was to return to her side. To strangle her. To kiss her again, to see if she would respond with the same invigorating hunger that had set his senses reeling and his heart pounding, reveling in her reaction to his touch. To entice those low, sensual sounds from the back of her throat again…
AND to strangle her, he reminded himself as the alien moved close behind him again and the commander struggled to keep his rising ardor in check. The Spirits only knew how Enlin would read his physical response to the memory of Kathryn's tongue battling with his…he shifted in his chair, furious. Yes, he was going to strangle her.
It hadn't taken long for him to realize exactly what her sudden change of heart had been about. Once removed from the distraction of her presence and relocated to what he could only assume were Enlin's personal chambers, Chakotay had been able to read Enlin's strange, close scrutiny all too clearly. It didn't exactly take a genius to read the none-too-subtle signs his captor practically radiated towards him...
The room was spacious, well-furnished, and rather dimly lit. The chair he sat in (at Enlin's "request") was supposed to be comfortable, the commander guessed, at least by the alien's standards. It was plush, upholstered, and richly so. The soft material rather matched the overall ambiance of decadence in the wall-hanging covered, ostentatiously furnished room. The decadence of his surroundings, coupled with the looks he had suddenly become much more aware of from the dark alien, had served to enlighten the commander rather quickly…
"And…how many of you did you say there were left?" Enlin repeated, as he poured a thick, tarry-looking substance from a large, spiral-shaped bottle into two small glasses.
"Four," Chakotay repeated for the tenth time in as many minutes. He hoped he was correct in taking Enlin's previous statements to mean that Tom and Harry had indeed been captured by Enlin's men also. Assuming they had, that meant Enlin already knew of at least four humans in the Delta Quadrant. Chakotay didn't want to be caught in an outright lie just yet…
He eyed the alien's movements with apprehension, wondering if his hands were going to be released anytime in the near future, or if he was going to be expected to drink the foul concoction Enlin was sliding across the desk at him by leaning over and using only his mouth…
Enlin circled around the desk, making Chakotay fight not to tense up. The Cardassians had sometimes played this game with their prisoners, giving the impression of hospitality during initial questioning right before moving in for the kill. When Enlin reached out toward him with both hands, Chakotay had to fight twice as hard to control his reaction.
But Enlin only smiled again, snickering at the dark expression which crossed his captive's face. Leaning in close, he took hold of the chair on either side of the commander's broad, bare arms and swiveled it around so that Chakotay was more or less facing the desk instead of sitting alongside it. "Only four?" He clucked his rough tongue. "You wouldn't be lying to me, now would you, Commander?"
Chakotay swiveled his sore head, meeting the alien's shrewd gaze. Mustering his remaining energy (and a good portion of his old Starfleet training), he forced himself to remain calm. "No," he replied evenly. "What would be the point? I've already lost my ship," he reasoned coolly. "You have it, and from what I've seen so far, you've made quite a career of transporting unwilling occupants to be sold into slavery. Somehow, I doubt you've left many avenues open for escape…even if I wanted to escape."
Enlin stood up, moving slightly so that Chakotay no longer had to crane his neck around to view him. His yellow eyes darkened, and he absently reached out to snatch up his full glass with one hand, bringing it to his thin mouth. He let his eyes pass once more over his prisoner's form, swirling the thick liquid around on his tongue before swallowing. "Hmmm," he offered, reaching out to rest his drained glass on the table and picking up the remaining, full glass in its place. "What you say could be true. And I'd prefer to believe you too intelligent to lie to me, Commander. I assume you must know what will happen to you if you're lying." His grin widened dangerously, showing an expansion of double-rowed, pointed teeth. "What will happen to that woman of yours," he expanded, unnecessarily to Chakotay's way of thinking.
He kept his cool, raging inwardly all the while. "You've made that quite clear, yes."
Enlin frowned, studying his captive's face with intense scrutiny. "Well, I must say I'm disappointed in your responses." He paused, swirling the liquid around in the glass he still held. But I say we should be friends for the remainder of our journey." He raised his head to catch the commander's carefully neutral expression and grinned again. "Agreed?"
Chakotay swallowed, masking his distaste for the man before him. "Agreed," he nodded stiffly, picturing Kathryn's pretty little throat framed by both of his own hands…
"Here…try this. Netara nectar, from our homeworld. It's incredibly rare, but I think you'll like it. You look like a man of…sophisticated tastes, Chakotay…may I call you Chakotay?" Enlin inquired slyly as he leaned in, proffering the glass.
Chakotay forced a small smile. As if I had a choice you smug son of a… "Of course." His eyes flickered meaningfully to the glass now only millimeters from his mouth and then up to Enlin's smiling features again. "But I think you'll have to undo these restraints for me to be able to…"
"Oh no, I don't think so, Chakotay," Enlin shook his head, laughing in that odd way again that made the hair on the back of Chakotay's neck stand up. "If I did that, you might try something foolish, and then I'd have no one to blame but myself when I had to punish you. I'll hold it for you while you drink it."
He maneuvered the glass up to the commander's disbelieving lips, watching with interest as the human obviously had to battle through some internal struggle for a long moment. Eventually, he appeared to resign himself to the inevitable and took a tentative sip of the dark liquid.
Enlin purred his approval.
Chakotay thought he was going to be ill, and not from the drink – the drink, surprisingly, was good. His thirst was quenched almost immediately, and he wasn't even sure how something of such a thick consistency could do that, but it had…it had tasted almost like licorice, but not as heavy and slightly more tangy, with a hint of…yes, that had been an almost citrusy aftertaste, he decided. He took another small sip from the glass to avoid meeting the alien's too-interested gaze.
"What did you think?" Enlin demanded, straightening and placing the glass on the desk, much to Chakotay's relief. "Was it to your liking?"
Chakotay nodded genuinely. "Yes," he responded politely, carefully. "It's very good, thank you."
For whatever reason, this seemed to satisfy his "host". Enlin nodded approvingly, sliding his eyes over the length of his prisoner before turning to replace the half-full bottle to its resting place on the shelf. "I'll have you taken to the others now. You'll be cleaned up and allowed to rest. We'll have another chat in a few days or so, Chakotay." He smiled again, leaning over the desk to tap something into one of the controls set into the paneling of the desktop. "Until then, please do enjoy your stay with us."
The door to Enlin's chambers opened, admitting two of the aliens that Chakotay hadn't seen before. Armed with disruptors identical to those that had been used on him and Kathryn earlier, they silently gestured for the commander to rise. He did so swiftly, not needing to be told twice; he was only too glad to escape the thick tension in the too-warm room and Enlin's rapacious gaze.
Silently, he obeyed the nudging directions of the dark aliens down the mostly deserted corridor while carefully committing the winding route to memory…
Oh yes, he thought darkly as he did so…he was going to throttle her.