Ownership

I received inspiration for this story while watching Sherlock. In the finale of the third season, there was a scene that was so singularly disconcerting it haunted my mind constantly. Finally my cousin told me to write a fic about it. And I complied. So, while this dialogue and such aren't anything to do with Sherlock, elements of this are almost identical to the Sherlock scene. Don't hate me.

Everything was in order as Captain Kathryn Janeway sat in her ready room, poring over reports. Nothing terribly exciting had happened for weeks now. An energy rich nebula here, a peaceful first contact there, standard maintenance checks there. Just mundane ship life. Voyager's captain certainly wasn't complaining. A slow crawl back to the Alpha Quadrant was preferable to casualties and setbacks.

But she should have known something was going to wreak havoc on routine. Should have been prepared for a hiccup in the status quo.

A mildly familiar sound drew her attention from the PADD in her hand.

"Q?" she said, surprised but wary. As she reached for her combadge, the infuriating man snapped his fingers, and she found herself unable to move anything but her face.

"Let me go, Q!" she snarled, leveling him the best glare she could manage given the fact she couldn't so much as turn her head in his direction.

"Oh, Kathy dear," Q said, shaking his head and swaggering towards her. "I'm afraid we don't have time for the little security game today. I will be needing your undivided attention and your full cooperation."

He sat next to her at the desk, conjuring a chair for himself. He reached forth a hand to Janeway's, pulling it away from her chest and setting it on the table between them.

"Hands off, Q" Janeway demanded, rolling her eyes. "If this is another deluded attempt to woo me, I advise you to save yourself the trouble and leave my ship at once. It won't work."

Q smirked. And though she could only see it in her peripheral vision, Janeway noticed a difference. This was neither his mischievous grin nor a saucy smile. There was something dark and unforgiving in his countenance. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Acting as if he hadn't heard her, Q began addressing Janeway as if he were giving a lecture. "On my previous visits, I was just teasing you about Chuckles. Anything to get a rise out of my favorite bipedal captain." He dropped his voice to a lascivious whisper. "You're delicious when you're annoyed, Kathy."

"What's your point?" Janeway snarled. Chakotay was the last thing she wanted to discuss with Q, or anybody for that matter.

"I've done my research since then, Kathy dearest," Q said, continuing his speech. "That tattooed oaf has a special place in your heart, doesn't he, Kathy?"

Janeway clenched her jaw. She wasn't sure where Q was going with this, and she was afraid to find out. The gleam in his eye filled her with dread.

"I've got real leverage now, love." Q tightened his hold on her hand. "The obvious choice is to threaten your precious crew. But you always weasel yourself out of ship-wide catastrophes, don't you? Lady Luck is on your side, and she's a formidable foe even for a Q. No, using the crew doesn't work. Even though you'd do anything for them, undeserving as they are, putting them in danger won't do it."

Janeway wasn't entirely sure she was following Q's rambling, but she was sure he would soon be coming to a sinister conclusion. In vain, she struggled to remove her hand from his. She couldn't produce so much as a twitch.

"Some infernal force in the cosmos won't let me do away with your whole crew, Kathy, but I'm certain I'd be able to fix circumstances around one individual without a hitch."

"What are you getting at, Q?" Kathryn asked, ice in her voice. A silly question, really. His intentions were clearing up. But she couldn't think of anything better to say. She hoped her tone would convey the message she was really sending.

However, instead of answering, Q pulled up the sleeve of her uniform and stroked his fingers along her forearm. When she made an involuntary sound of disgust, he raised her arm to his nose and sniffed her wrist.

"My, my, Kathy. Is there any part of you that doesn't smell like coffee?"

Janeway found she could suddenly move her arm again, so she tugged it away from Q's grasp. Unfortunately, it was immobilized once more as soon as she'd pulled it to her chest.

"I need your help, Kathy," Q continued, his voice dangerously low. "And you're going to give it. Because if you don't I have a delectable fate in store for your little Chuckles. It won't be a decision so easy as Chuckles or the crew. I know your answer for that one. You're too predictable with all your principles." He laughed softly to himself. "No. Chakotay will simply live or die, depending on your willingness to assist me. No loopholes. No interference from karma."

Kathryn struggled to maintain a neutral glare. But her lower lip trembled. And her eyes had grown far too wide. Her breathing too shallow.

"Aren't you going to call security? Sic your Vulcan on me?"

Again, Janeway found she was in control of her right arm. But her hand hovered over her combadge.

"I'm glad you understand, dear," Q gloated. "I have Chakotay's life, and therefore, I have you."

"You can't blackmail me, Q," Janeway said as defiantly as was possible with her heart in her throat.

"Oh." Q rose to place his face beside hers, where she could barely see him. "This isn't blackmail. This is ownership."

"You do not own me," Janeway hissed. Being able to see only a fraction of his face from the corner of her eye was putting her into a sort of small panic. Her heart raced and her blood pulsed painfully. She thought he was going to kiss her. Ravage her mouth as she sat frozen.

What actually happened was worse.

He licked her.

She felt his tongue drag slowly from her chin to her cheekbone, dip next to her eye and stop at her brow.

And she understood.

A memory, countless memories, from childhood flooded her mind.

"Katie," her sister whines. "Give it to me. You've already got one."

"No," she answers, holding the item—an apple, a popsicle, a toy, a treat, countless objects—just out of her sister's reach. "It's mine." And she gives the item a good lick to deter her sister from taking it. To mark it as her own.

"Even your face, Kathy," Q said, sticking out his tongue in distaste. "You really should go easier on that coffee."

Janeway said nothing. Even if she'd wanted to, shock had closed her throat. She could barely breathe. The saliva on her face seemed to burn.

"I'll be back with the intricacies of my request later, love," Q said, standing and stretching a bit. "Watch yourself, Kathy."

With a snap, he released the invisible bind on her. Still, she did not move. Only when he was gone, well and surely gone, did she allow herself to react.

She crumpled onto her desk with a sob, rubbing at the violated side of her face. She was so afraid, more than she'd ever been. But she didn't have the privilege of dealing only with her fear.

Shame beat at her insides. Shame she'd allowed herself to be caught in Q's clutches. Shame she was weak.

She needed a sonic shower. But even that wouldn't wash away what had just happened.