A/N: Oookay, so apparently when I first uploaded this chapter I skipped everything before the break below, explaining better to me some of the "that seemed a bit abrupt" comments I received, LOL! So here is the FULL final chapter for your reading enjoyment!

Khan eventually returned to the bridge to check on their progress; although he had the ship's computer programmed to alert him to any signs of pursuit or the presence of other ships within their long-range scanners, and although his self-designed auto-pilot appeared to be working flawlessly, he still felt the need to confirm their safety for himself. He left Molly and Jamie investigating the ship's small sickbay, his heart clenching as Jamie waved and called out a cheerful, "Bye-bye Daddy!" when he left.

A few hours later, he returned to the quarters he'd set up for them, to watch Molly as she prepared Jamie for bed. "Daddy back!" the little boy crowed as Khan entered the room after receiving Molly's permission to do so. "Gimme baf!" he demanded, and Khan thought his chest might burst with the mingled joy and terror he felt at hearing his son acknowledge him thus.

Molly guided him through the bath process, but left them alone once Jamie's hair had been shampooed and his chubby little body thoroughly washed. There were a number of plastic toys that the toddler seemed to feel were vitally important to share with his father, and Khan solemnly listened to his excited chatter, a pleased smile flitting about the corners of his mouth. When Molly decreed bath-time to be over, he was almost as disappointed as Jamie, although far less vocal about it; his son protested quite loudly that "I no prune, Mummy!" even though his toes and fingers had wrinkled up rather dramatically.

Khan was given the honor of reading his son a bedtime story, and found himself unable to start for a long moment. He and Molly exchanged glances, hers knowing, his wondering, and then he finally found his voice and read about a shy young space ship that wanted to enter a race even though his friends all worried that he would lose to the more boisterous competitors.

When the shy little ship won the race through his pluck and perseverance, Jamie's eyelids were already drooping. Khan leaned over and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "Night-night, Daddy," the drowsy little voice piped up, and Khan rose abruptly to his feet, overcome with emotion.

He didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to have this precious little boy calling him 'Daddy' and accepting him into his life. He didn't deserve Molly's trust; he'd recognized her desire for him not to claim himself as Jamie's father when they first beamed aboard, and respected that desire. What he didn't understand was how and why she'd changed her mind so quickly.

His mind whirling, he choked out a, "Good night, Jamie. Sleep well," then turned to make his good-byes to Molly, who had moved over to tuck Jamie in and kiss his rosy cheek. But the look on her face stopped him in his tracks; he stared at her as she shook her head and raised one hand in the timeless signal for 'wait'.

After she'd lowered the light, she walked quietly to Khan's side. Placing her hand in his, she gave a slight tug, and he followed wordlessly as she drew him to the door to her own bedroom.

The intercom, as he'd already explained to her, would automatically activate if Jamie woke up or called out for her. Or else she could set it onto an open channel and be assured that she could listen for her son all night long. He'd half-expected her to want to sleep in the same room as him – or for Jamie to want to join her – but it appeared that his son was far more independent than other children his age seemed to be. A sign of his superior genetics, or merely his mother's loving guidance? Both, more likely, he decided.

Then the door slid shut behind them, and Molly set it so that an alarm would sound before it opened again, although she didn't lock it, and then she was in his arms, pulling his head down to hers for an urgent, lingering kiss.

oOo

Molly ran her fingers through the dark, glossy locks of his hair, her heart quickening, her breaths coming in short gasps that forced her to end the kiss long before she wanted to. Her hand was on her zip, tugging it down, as Khan began undoing his own clothing, kicking off his boots and shucking his tunic and trousers as she worked her way free of her coveralls.

She'd almost forgotten about the tracking device still magnetically clamped around her left ankle, but before she could ask for help, Khan was kneeling before her, reaching out and wrenching the supposedly impregnable material from her body. He tossed it over his shoulder, meeting her gaze with a smouldering intensity that made Molly's knees weak. Grinning a predator's grin, he helped her to step out of her coveralls before sliding his hands up her thighs and insinuating himself between her legs.

Molly gasped as he lipped her pale, pink flesh, reaching around to grasp her plump little arse in both hands. Then his mouth found its target, the sweet, tantalizing place between her legs, and he allowed himself another taste of the heaven he'd been missing for nearly three years.

Her moans were all the encouragement he needed, but the way she subtly shifted her legs to give him more room, the way her hands had drifted down to clutch at his hair made the moment all the sweeter. To think he'd actually been concerned – not afraid, certainly that was an emotion he would never admit to! – that she might see him only as a means to an end, a way to leave Earth with her son and flee the intolerable imprisonment into which she'd been forced. But no, clearly she was as eager as he to pick up where they'd left off three years ago. Yes, it had only been a single night they'd shared, but it had been a night he'd never allowed himself to forget.

She still wanted him; the musk of her arousal was a heady aroma, and the taste of her beneath his tongue even sweeter. He needed more, to be deep within her, but was determined to taste her climax before even entertaining the thought of achieving his own.

With that goal in mind, he worked her swollen folds with his tongue, kneading her buttocks with both hands, sliding his fingers into the cleft and delicately rubbing her smaller opening the way he remembered her enjoying that intoxicating first night they'd spent together. She gave another soft moan and shuddered, then threw one leg over his shoulder and begged him for her release.

No, not begged; demanded it, like the unlikely warrior he'd always known her to be. Even when she was pretending to be simply Admiral Marcus' PA, Lt. Molly Hooper had stood out to Khan's keen senses and superior intelligence. He'd danced with another woman merely to gauge Molly's reaction; he'd noticed her the instant he'd entered the ballroom even though she hadn't sensed his attention. Nor should she have; he'd gone to great lengths to feign disinterest in her, knowing that nothing would please the thrice-cursed – and now, thankfully, very, very dead – admiral more than to have another hold over his prisoner.

But he'd been unable to resist the urge to test her on the dance floor; he'd already hacked into her personnel files and discovered that among Lt. Molly Hooper's many unknown talents was her skills at ballroom dancing. Particularly the Latin dances.

Ah, that tango they'd shared; he remembered it vividly, how he'd approached her with the traditional (and rather hokey) rose between his teeth. How he'd offered it to her, along with his hand. How she'd accepted both and danced with him. He could still feel the burn of Marcus' glower at the two of them, which they'd both ignored, far too wrapped up in one another to allow anything to distract them.

With a hoarse cry, Molly wrenched him back to the present, her nails digging into his scalp and her entire body shaking as she reached her peak. He lapped eagerly at the pooling moisture between her legs, then eased her leg off his shoulder and rose to his feet, catching her swaying form easily in his arms. He lifted her up and carried her over to her bed – their bed, if she would let him stay for more than just this moment – laying her down and covering her body with his own.

She opened her legs and reached between them, touching herself, covering her fingers with her juices; then, with a wicked smile, she took him in hand, stroking his straining erection as she parted her lips for another demanding kiss. He took her mouth eagerly, but only allowed her to fondle him for a few seconds before guiding himself into her opening. She willingly ceded him control, their tongues dueling as she reached around to grip his arse just as tightly as he'd been holding hers. Then he thrust into her, delighting in the way she gasped into his mouth, the feel of her other hand as she once again curled her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer to her. The tips of her breasts against his chest were twin flames, burning into his flesh; he roughly palmed each delicate peak with one hand while supporting himself over Molly's petite form with the other.

They moved together, caught up in the give and take of lovemaking, instinct and muscle memory serving to keep their movements synched in a glorious rhythm until suddenly Molly gave voice to a raw scream of pure pleasure. His hips stuttered, his breath left him in a shuddering gasp, and Khan buried his head in her shoulder as he emptied himself into her willing body.

The fell asleep together as his stolen ship sped away from Earth and the Federation and all the pain and betrayal he'd faced at Starfleet's – Marcus' – hands. Their life as Section 31 agents was over; Molly loved him, he knew she did, in spite of his horrendous actions, spawned by grief and anger and, very nearly, madness.

They would never look back, none of them; he and Molly would awaken his crew once they were far enough from Federation space that pursuit would rendered unlikely. He would get to know his son, whom he'd loved from the moment he'd learned of his existence. He would have not only his crew-family, but Molly and Jamie as well.

There would be challenges, yes, but challenges they would all proudly face.

Face, and conquer.

In his sleep, Khan smiled and held Molly closer. In her sleep, she did the same.