Brent had gotten involved in his mess of PADDs. Sakarra had been a great deal of help to him in the entire process. He was thinking that it was getting close to the end time of his shift when he heard the command given to lock the door as he looked up and smiled slightly at her actions. "Well am I sorry my dear. I guess I had lost track of time. You were an incredible help to me here," he said as he got up and walked around in front of her. "Thank you very much. Is there anyway I could pay you back?" His hands moved back down to those familiar places again where he knew that she would react to them.
"You would appear to already have something suitable in mind."
It was meant to be a slightly dry comment, but the success was limited. Gentle hands pulled her close until she was sitting near the edge of the desk and Sakarra exhaled slowly as she felt tender fingertips travel up her spine, grazing over her neck and toying with the soft hair under the tightly braided coils. Reflexively, she wrapped her legs around the Marine standing before her and gave a low, melodious laugh.
"I will admit I am curious though. What thought exactly was it you were trying so hard to hide from me?"
Brent smiled ever so slightly. "I'd say you already know enough on your own." He gently took her hands into his and let her see the exact vision that he had for her at some point in time. They were essentially in the position already only it involved.. Less clothing. Brent grinned at her as he saw her take in what he had thought up of before reason had regained its grip on his mind. Speaking of reason... Brent withdrew himself from Sakarra leaving her sitting there on the edge of the seat as he looked at her. "I'm hungry though. We should have dinner," he said and before she could utter a word of protest or stop him, he had unlocked the door and stood in the middle of it, holding it open.
Torn between laughter and the very insistent desire to snarl at this… this… no, impossible was hardly the word to describe this male, but she could not think of anything better right now, Sakarra stood by the desk and subjected her Companion to yet another Look.
After 0.8 seconds, she pulled herself together and adopted an air of miffed royalty, sweeping towards the door as if she were about to walk past him without a second glance. But right before her proud gait moved the little Vulcan past Brent, she summoned an image in her mind that was similar to the idea he had put into her head only in the way that it involved little fabric and the desk.
Unseen by the Marines lingering in the barracks and for barely a spilt second, her hand came to rest against his before she strode on as if nothing had happened.
Halfway towards the barracks doors, she stopped and turned. "Baked potato, yes? I shall relay the request to Miss Betty, Lieutenant."
With this, she left the Marine to ponder the wisdom of his actions … and to get the wine he had promised.
Brent nodded as she asked him if the baked potato was what he had wanted. "Yes, mushrooms too please," he said with a smile on his face. As Sakarra left he looked around at his men before barking out a few orders, assigning fire watch for the night and ordering his NCO to double the PT for the squad. Satisfied that they would not kill themselves unless that still of theirs was operational, Brent departed from the barracks and began his voyages to collect a bottle of wine for the meal that he was going to share with her tonight.
After having retrieved his own bottle of fine red wine, Brent waited outside of Sakarra's quarters and pressed the door chime, wondering if she had already gotten the meal or if they would go get it together.
=/\= Deck Three =/\=
She was floating about her quarters with an air of utmost serenity that had even derailed the poor yeoman from casting more than a cursory glance at the young Vulcan's attire – for all he knew, sheer silk in a red so dark it looked like alien blood at night in a robe clinging so close to the woman's figure it outlined … well, damn near everything …was what those people wore when they were home alone. And a tray with food enough for three humans might be exactly what a Vulcan metabolism needed, how the hell was he supposed know.
Funny though he thought he'd smelled the delicious aroma of steak from under the covers that kept the meals hot before he set down the tray and beat a hasty retreat under the helmswoman's calm black gaze.
It was indeed what one such as she would choose on a balmy spring evening to wander the gardens, though the poor unsettled human could not have known. And it would hardly have drawn comment from another Vulcan, unless she would have chosen to reveal the fact her legs and feet were bare under the floating fabric that hugged her hips and then fell in straight lines to the floor.
Warm, coppery tinted light gave her warm quarters the relaxing ambiente of T'Khut rising early while Nevasa's last rays died over the desert and the fresh, clean scent of a single Gespar candle mingled with the strong aromas of the food. Sakarra quietly nodded to herself when she found the item she had been looking for in one of the seldom used drawers and then quirked a brow when the door chime rang – he had not wasted any time it seemed.
Only a few seconds later, the young Vulcan stood by the door as it opened, admitting a rush of cool air and her Companion. "Your timing, as usual, is impeccable."
Brent couldn't speak for a moment as he saw her in the dress. "Wow," he said as Brent moved into the room his eyes still glued to her in the red silk dress. His smile grew wider and wider as he looked her over. "Here," he said offering her the wine bottle that he had gotten from his own quarters. "You look absolutely breathtaking," he finally managed as he had come down from the spell that she had seemed to cast on him. "Is the meal already here," he asked his stomach having reasserted himself as his stomach grumbled, a meager lunch was the only food he had eaten the whole day.
He still had on his uniform from just a few moments ago but after seeing her in her current dress he immediately had regretted it having wished to be in something nicer for her.
"So it is." Sakarra nodded calmly towards the low table where she had laid out the food so generously provided by Miss Betty – Brent's custom order, rounded up with fragrant breadsticks rolled in fresh herbs, a bowl with an assortment of sweet fruit and slowly melting icecream, two more with crisp, fresh salad, and of course the vegetarian gumbo the Chief Cook knew to be one of the Vulcan's favorites.
Without waiting for approval, she opened the Marine's uniform jacket and slid her hands across his chest, pulling the heavy fabric off him before she took both wine and jacket and walked away, silk swishing across the carpet. The fabric was neatly deposited on the low couch and the young Vulcan settled on a small pillow opposite where Brent's food was awaiting his attention, carefully uncorking the wine.
There was no mistaking the effect her choice of attire had caused, nor the look she felt resting on her and the graceful curve of her neck as she bent over the wine bottle. The smile she had been holding back showed briefly at the corners of her mouth and lingered in the serene air of her face. It was just as well she had taken the time to unbraid her hair from the severe, stern coils and pulled it into the loose knot that to Betazoids was known as both practical and decidedly alluring.
It was hard for Brent to choose. Pay attention to Sakarra as she was no doubt trying to entice him immediately. Or else eat the food while it was piping hot and smelling absolutely delicious. Eventually the old saying held true, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. He sat down, his eyes still casting glances over to her as she poured him the wine. He looked down at his steak and his mouth almost began to water right then and there. "We should bring in more I think. Or go out more either way. Replicator food isn't good for the soul," Brent said remembering something that his mother had said before he had left.
=/\= To be continued … =/\=
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm
USS Charon
