Molly shifted on Khan's lap as she stared dumbfounded into his intense, crystalline blue eyes. His beauty was infuriatingly distracting. In addition to that, she was having trouble thinking clearly with her arms entwined around his neck. She chewed her lip. His swollen member remained nestled inside her body and even as she regarded him, it twitched. Her body reacted involuntarily with a flex of its own which elicited a faint ripple in his expression. He rubbed her back. His eyes narrowed and flitted over her face again as if he were trying to ascertain her thoughts.

"You are mine now, understand? You are mine," his words repeated in her head.

She drew in a fluttering breath. The possession in his tone had seduced her at first but there was a hard set to it and she could not discern what she saw sinking in the depths of those beautiful orbs. It seemed as if he had begun to withdraw into himself.

"What do you mean?" She asked with a tremor in her voice. "How am I yours?"

His fingers contracted on her back with a gentle friction. The feel of his large, slightly calloused hand was a visceral reminder of their differences; of his exaggerated maleness in contrast to her femininity. Thoughts dashed through his eyes like fleet-footed thieves. She had no clue as to what he was thinking.

"Well, for one, we just bred-"

Molly's eyes burned as they went very round. Bred?! Her face flushed with a tingling warmth.

"Wh-Wh-What?!" She sputtered. "No, we didn't! You . . . you are . . . unable to sire children, aren't you?"

Khan's head swayed sideways in confusion. Then, his nose wrinkled and deep creases marred his brow.

"I am not infertile," he growled. "whatever gave you that absurd idea?"

She hacked back a cough as she choked on her own saliva. She began to shake all over.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she repeated to herself.

"I . . . I researched your people. The records indicate you were all made infecund . . . oh my god! You're not? You're not sterile?"

He shook his head slowly with ever-constricting eyes. Molly's hands slid from his shoulders to her belly. She clutched it as she felt an anxious percolation like something was boiling in her gut. What had she been thinking, really? She had let herself be carried away by her lust like a feather in a windstorm.

"You appear distressed, little human," he observed gruffly, "didn't you want my seed?"

Her lips parted. Instantly, she flashed so hot with mortification that his hand felt like an island of coolness on her lower back.

"Wha-? Oh, my God! No! Why would you think that? Oh, oh, oh, and why the hell would you be alright with . . ."

She pointed her finger back and forth between them breathlessly as she tried to wrap her head around everything. "We don't even know each other! What if I became pregnant?"

His lids drooped and he shrugged.

He shrugged like some unconcerned, futuristic Lothario.

Every hair on the back of her neck bristled. She swore and tried to move from his lap but his hands clamped around her ribs just above her waist and he jerked her into his chest. Her breasts squashed up against his hard pectorals. She felt his member, which had extracted itself, stir on his lap. Warm breaths tickled her lips. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again as his fingers alternated between contracting and relaxing around her ribs.

"Calm yourself," he hissed, "it is infinitesimally unlikely we would actually be able to procreate. My DNA is unlike anything you would have ever studied; it is extremely self-protectionist. While theoretically our chromosomes are compatible, my sperm essentially self-immolates in the presence of bonding material that is genetically inferior."

A chill washed over Molly's body. She scrunched her toes up as fury tightened every muscle in her body. He frowned when he noticed the change in her demeanor. Then,after a few seconds a flicker of understanding tempered his expression. He rolled his eyes.

"Pfft, now do not go all archaically feminist and torch your underthings," Khan said gruffly, "practically everyone is inferior to me."

Molly's hands balled into fists. She wanted to punch him but all she could do was land them weakly against his chest with a frustrated whine. A bucket of icy tears tipped over inside her, splashing miserable self-pity through her body. Her eyes stung. She flattened out her hands and choked back a sob.

"L-Let go of me, please," she whispered.

He sighed. "Little human-"

She shook her head as she stared at her bellybutton. "Molly is my name! For pity's sake, can't you refer to me as Molly? A-And, please, release me."

Almost instantly, his hold slacked. Without looking at him, she climbed to the floor. When she took her first step, something warm and slick ran down her leg. Again, she felt a flush of humiliation. She clamped her legs together and awkwardly limped to the console where she retrieved a hand towel. With her back to him, she cleaned the liquid evidence of their joining and silently cursed every one of his pretentious little swimmers. She imagined they all looked like dead cartoon fishes with x's over their eyes. She snorted a miserable laugh at that mental image. With a sniff, she tossed her towel into the nearest replicator and turned to search for her clothing. When she looked up, Khan's outstretched hand held her uniform and she saw that the bastard had already dressed. She snatched the garments from his grasp and quickly shuffled into them as he watched with a perplexed scowl.

"I cannot refer to you by your given name," he mumbled.

She feigned a smile as she tugged her dress over her head. "Of course you can't!"

"No," he bit out, "it is not that. I do not refer to any of my crew by their first names."

He shoved his hair back over his scalp and smoothed it down. A thought tweaked his brow. He swirled his hand at her in a flourish.

"Will Dr. Hooper suffice?"

She tucked her lips in and glowered up at him in an attempt to squelch her overwhelming sadness. "Ooh, are you asking me now? Aren't you the big bad boss of this ship? Am I allowed a preference?"

He exhaled a long, sputtering sigh and cricked his neck. "I. Am. Trying. To. Be. Magnanimous. If you insist on being obstinate, I will start referring to you as Chief Medical Officer Lieutenant Commander Margaret Grace Hooper."

Something quivered in her belly at hearing her full address drop from his lips. When had he bothered to learn her name, she wondered?

Molly lifted her chin. "I like the sound of that!"

He half spun, stepped back with apparent uncertainty then fixed his focus on her again.

"Arrrg!"

Khan stalked up to her and next thing she knew, she was pressed up against the Sickbay wall. He nudged up her mouth and then swallowed her gasp of surprise. She grabbed the front of his tunic in frustrated fistfuls, then groaned at the feel of his greedy lips and opened her mouth to him. She cursed her own lusty weakness as she succumbed yet again to him. His lips pulsed over hers several times as if attempting to reign himself in. Then, he bumped her nose up. Once, twice, he did that until her mouth was slack and her flesh quivering to be possessed. In the next breath, he unleashed his passion. His tongue lashed against hers punishingly while he cradled her head. A minute lapsed and only after she was moaning into his mouth did he ease up. When he raised his head, his lips peeled away slightly sticky and moist. A tremor wracked his frame.

"You . . . y-you will follow my orders and . . . start addressing me as Captain, Dr. Hooper!"

She licked her lips and struggled to regain her breath. "Will I?"

"Yes," his voice dropped to a low rumble, his hand kneaded her hip, "you will call me Captain or you will cry it out as I bend you over the nearest berth. It's your choice."

Molly licked her lips. She shifted on her feet. She was tempted to argue with him some more just so he would carry through on his promise.

"Well?" He growled.

"I'm thinking!" She breathed.

He groaned. His hand reached to her jaw.

"Little human-"

"Molly."

He sighed in exasperation.

"Say it," she whispered, "say my name. I am not a thing that belongs to you, Khan Noonien Singh."

Khan's gaze touched every part of her face as if her were committing it to memory.

"No, you are not a thing, Molly," his chest heaved.

Her knees softened upon hearing the deep intonation of her name. She felt an unexpected pang in her heart follow by an explosion of cussing from her inner voice. Holy hell, she was developing a begrudging tenderness for this control freak!

"Molly," he murmured again, "do not pretend like I have no claim over you, not now."

"Oh! Y-You are ridiculous."

He raised his brows. "Maybe, but I am not wrong."

"Why . . . why is this admission so important to you?"

Khan stepped away and smoothed out his tunic. His hands flexed at his sides. His eyes slid away.

"I have an assignment for you," he grumbled as if saying something distasteful, "and I need for you to . . . behave."