=/\= USS Charon, Deck Ten, Later yet again ... =/\=
The alarm had started to go off and for the first time that Brent could remember he did not get up immediately. One of his sides was free. The other had the little Vulcan woman who wore him out last night still holding onto him and he to her. He reached over with one hand and slapped the alarm clock, shutting it off before he let out a sigh and simply closed his eyes. He ached all over and had no energy, and idly Brent wondered if he had even gotten two hours worth of sleep.
The disconcerting sound rang loudly in Sakarra's sensitive ears and she was about to wrinkle her nose in annoyance when she realized her face was in fact pressed against a shoulder that had started to move slowly and had a most wonderful scent to it.
"Ha'tha ti'lu, ta'luhk-veh." Although low and relaxed, nearly a purr, her voice held just a hint of mischievous humor when she looked up and traced the outlines of his face.
Brent was still somewhat awake when he heard the melodious voice, if not a little bit sleepy, call out to him. "If that means that I should smash my alarm into a million pieces and that we should sleep for the next day... Then it will be a fantastic idea," Brent said still with his eyes closed. He didn't want to move, except maybe to get something to drink. In a few hours of course. Right now he felt like sleeping again just like this. "If it means anything else then I'll have to take it under review. Say four or five hours worth of review."
"As appealing as that sounds…" she lazily moved across the length of his body to nuzzle his neck and tried very hard not to chuckle – with limited success "… I believe there is a reason you set that alarm, yes?"
But her arm remained resting on his chest and she gave no indication of wanting to leave this spot for the foreseeable future. If anything, she relaxed even more against the man holding on to her when his grip tightened again; lightly from his point of view but Sakarra had learned just how much strength was truly in those arms when he no longer cared to hold back – or simply was unable to.
Not that she objected in the least, minor sprains aside.
"Would you like me to obtain some cold water?" her lips had traveled to his ear by now and she tenderly ruffled his brown, unruly hair while a small smirk crossed her face.
That comment illicted a grunt. And not the pleasurable kind. Brent opened his eyes as he looked over at Sakarra. "I'd ask if you wouldn't as a way to bluff but something tells me that you'd do it," he said as Brent slowly began to come to life. He stretched out incredibly sore muscles and began to stir under the covers. Brent began to rise up a little bit against his pillow when he looked down at Sakarra laying against and on top of him. His pleasant revelry was interrupted when he saw her wrist. It was quite bruised. Delicately he took it in his own hand before letting out a sigh as he inspected what -he- had done. "Dammit. I'm sorry Sakarra."
"Hm?" she tilted her head, not quite sure what had made his voice sound so unsettled and then studied her wrist. "Oh. Fascinating. But why are you sorry?"
With graceful ease and every sign of enjoyment, Sakarra stretched out on top of her lover and studied his face with a tender, but mildly puzzled expression. Sure, it would be inconvenient to hide this for the few hours it would take to heal, but if anything, it was a reminder of something … quite pleasant. No, extremely pleasant to be honest.
"I didn't mean to. I just..." he sighed. "Sorry. I guess I got far too carried away last night at times," he said. "I was always told two things. Don't hurt a lady and always ALWAYS control yourself. We can't afford to lose our temper," he said. "This was an example of me losing control," he said. "Even if it was in some of the best of times. I wasn't ready for this," he said motioning down at her wrists.
"I see."
Without going so far as to point out the quite obvious bruises Brent was sporting, giving clear evidence that a Vulcan losing control was not precisely such a good idea either, Sakarra carefully placed her fingertips against his temple and kissed the lingering frown on his lips.
"Again, it is me who should apologize. I had not anticipated this would … disturb you so." She murmured, her cheerful undertone all but gone and replaced with concern. But there was only one way she knew how to show him beyond doubt that in this case, he did not need to fear his own strength.
Hesitantly, he obliged her silent request to wrap his arms around her. Of course, she could have conjured the memory which had caused the bruise, risking an all out flare of passion again. But this would have to suffice – in his current state, having his lover demand … attending … again might be another thing Brent was not ready for.
'Don't worry. You'll feel what I feel. Hold on tight. More.'
Slowly, the pressure around her waist and shoulders increased, straining mildly sore muscles and prompting the instinctive response of relaxation and then gradually rising tension.
'Yes. More.'
Smiling at the doubtful look in his sea blue eyes, Sakarra dropped her mental shields enough to let him … feel. And just when his embrace crossed the threshold to pain, waves of pleasure followed and echoed through the mental thread.
'That should be enough for now, yes? I do not want to … unsettle you more.'
Breathing deeply to bank the heat that was already wanting to rise again, Sakarra trailed her fingertips over his face "Suffice it to say, I am sturdier than I appear. And although I would be disappointed if you feel you need to ... control yourself … I understand."
After all, how he felt was not so different from her own fear to confront him with the full force of her mind running out of control. And it had nearly come to that last night as well.
The sensations were all so sudden and unusual for Brent that he couldn't respond for a few moments. So while he had hurt her it was not like... He nodded. "Alright. I understand more now," he said. He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Thank you for showing me that. I'll do my best to try and not worry. But it will take a bit of doing. A lifetime of warnings and worries not going away overnight and all that," he said. "So I have to get up now don't I for duty. You won't let me call in and say that I'll be an hour or two late? It's not like I have anything to do but paperwork," he said with an annoyed look on his face.
"They never do. Nor should they. But one can … learn to make exceptions." Sakarra replied good-naturedly and breathed a tiny sigh at the prospect of having to leave this most pleasant position she found herself in.
"As for the paperwork, you happen to be fortunate today. For the price of being provided with breakfast I could be persuaded to help with that until my own shift starts. Unless you are obliged to be present at your office?"
"It's good to be the Lieutenant then. I'll send a message to my sergeants that they will be on their own for the first few hours of the day," he said and gave Sakarra another squeeze. "So what do you like for breakfast hmm," he asked. "We could just stay here for a little longer hm?" he said having caught the faintest idea of her thoughts that generated the sigh.
"As enticing as the prospect is… I fear it may lead to a great many things, none of which include any paperwork." Not to mention that in the end he might truly prove unable to appear at his office. Sometimes a Vulcan's sense of duty could be quite a nuisance.
He seemed to have recovered sufficiently to trace his fingertips up her spine and bury his hands in the fragrant, soft waterfall of her hair, making it clear he was willing to make that trade and accept the inherent risks. And when he gently pulled her down to rest her head next to his, she offered no resistance, only another small sound of amusement.
Yes. Just a little while longer.
=/\= End Log =/\=
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm
USS Charon
