<USS Banshee> Easing the Pain (Conclusion)

  • From: CptMorrigan@xxxxxxx
  • To: ussbanshee@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Thu, 25 Jul 2002 14:16:18 EDT

"Captain, please, sit.."  For a fighter pilot whose squadron call sign had 
been HFO for Hell Frozen Over, she was exhibiting a much wider range of 
emotions than normal as further testament to her frenzied state of mind.  He 
tread lightly, knowing that though she was not the ogre the crew thought, she 
was still a dangerous force to be reckoned with.  Her word was law and she 
knew it.  "My main reason for showing you this is to tell you that I 
understand. If I were intent on blackmailing you, I certainly would not have 
just deleted the records, would I?"

"I suppose you expect me to be grateful."  Her eyes pierced him with a 
challenging gaze. " And, understand?  What is there to understand?  Her 
culture caused her to misread the situation."

"Grateful, no, not really." He met her gaze without fear but did not take up 
the challenge.  "Personally, I was not happy to have seen it... but, I wanted 
to talk to you about it." Steeling his nerve, he upped the ante.  "Well, yes, 
that excuses her actions..."

"And what in the name of the Prophets do  you have to be unhappy about?"  Her 
arms remained ramrod straight at her sides.

Keeping his voice low, he murmured, "It does not excuse what you felt... nor, 
what you are feeling right now, because of it."

"I FEEL NOTHING!"  As if the shout jolted her back into reality, she stopped 
herself from going any further, ingoring the tremble that jolted through her 
limbs. 

"I hate the idea of being in a postion where if this were to get out, I would 
be your target."  He kept his tone cool and level, rational.  "Captain.... I 
respect you greatly, and would never push you to talk about this.. .but, my 
mother would tell me that you need to talk about it."  He stopped a moment 
before stating the obvious. "Besides, if you felt nothing, why would you be 
shouting?"  He shook his head as he recognised that every wall of defense 
that this woman used to maintain the cool control that she often exhibited 
had slammed into place.

The room seemed to spin for a moment as she cleared her throat and sat 
abruptly.  "I was simply being emphatic."  Her tone had regained its coolness.

"I see this is going the opposite of how I had hoped," D'nalls sighed in 
disappointment and rested his arms on his desk.

"You hoped?"  Morrigan questioned incredulously.  "Tell me, Lieutenant... how 
did you hope  it would go?"

"I had hoped that you would have opened up to me a bit, and shared what you 
felt."  He took a steadying breath and prepared for the biggest crap shoot of 
his life.  "I don't mind telling you, that since the second I saw you, I have 
thought about you pretty much incessantly."

Morrigan's right had was already at her right temple, trying to convince some 
of the tension that was building within her skull to leave.  She cleared her 
throat uncomfortably. "Incessantly?"

An honest smile played upon his lips.  "Well, not like a stalker...but you've 
occupied my thoughts a great deal."  He shrugged before he continued.  "And, 
you are the only woman to have ever had this effect on me.  If it wasn't my 
job to protect you with my life, I am sure that I would volunteer for it."

Rhi's cheeks colored slightly at the idea that someone thought SHE needed 
protecting.  With a puzzled expression born of too many twists to her once 
simple life, she replied.  "Forgive me for being skeptical.... but I have a 
little trouble digesting all this."

"I can not blame you," he nodded in understanding. "I've not been able to 
accept it much either...I would have never even considered that any person 
would have such a strong hold over me without it being detrimental."  He 
laughed a bit at the idea.

"First I am.... kissed by an overexuberant ensign and now you tell me that 
you are thinking about me incessantly." She brushed off the idea that she had 
a hold over this assured man who was sitting behind her ship's security desk. 
 "For someone who couldn't get a date at the academy... I certainly am having 
my dance card filled now."  She smiled wearily as a low masculine chuckle 
rumbled in his chest.  "He thinks I'm kidding," she thought.

"They feared you," J'van replied matter of factly. "Most males fear strong 
women."

"And you do not?" She questioned with some amusement, though her body 
remained as taut as a bow string.

"I am Betazoid, and my mother was a very strong woman... I have never really 
thought of her as being a threat, and I don't see you as threatening either," 
he offered in way of explanation.  "I am used to strong women... my drill 
instructor in marine officer training was also a woman."

Morrigan sighed slightly.  "At least you were honest with me. I don't have to 
worry about being ambushed... though it will make me leery of riding in a 
turbolift with you."

"Yes," he agreed solemnly.  "But at what cost?" He warmed as she gave him a 
slight smile and leaned forward to reclaim her mug from his desk.  " And 
ambush? No, that's not my style.  Obviously, I go about it straight on."

"And for that... I thank you."  She sipped from her now tepid drink before 
tilting her head to the right and gently rotating her left shoulder in an 
effort to bring herself some relief.

He watched her quietly for a moment as she tried to loosen the troubled 
muscles.  "May I?"  He nodded to the shoulder that seemed to be the object of 
her attention.

She quirked a brow.   "May you?"  There was some warning bell ringing in the 
back of her mind, but she was too distracted to pay it much mind.

"Help work out some of that tension," he explained. "I am a trained in 
various massage arts. Our people pride ourselves on it in fact."

She looked at him with faint amusement and shrugged painfully.  "You are 
welcome to try.  She watched him rise and step around the desk and behind 
her.  "Many a trained professional has failed, I must warn you." She steadied 
herself not to flinch as he gently laid his hands on her shoulders.

D'nalls closed his eyes and concentrated.  He began to work her shoulders, 
kneeding them gently and carefully, his hands feeling cool and awakening and 
hot and penetrating practically simultaneously.  Even through the uniform, 
the sensation was exquisite.  He leaned forward slightly and murmured close 
to her ear.  "Many trained professionals are not like me."

Morrigan gave an uncharacteristic twitter as she agreed. "Prophets, you can 
say that again....."  She mmmm'd in a very relaxed manner as his 
manipulations of her muscleclature seemed to peel layers of tension from her 
body.

Thoroughly enjoying the sensation of being privileged enough to get past her 
walls of defense, one by one, he questioned her gently.  "You're half 
Bajoran, correct?"

She nodded her head slowly in the affirmative.  "On my father's side."

"Did you grow up on Bajor?"  He knew all the information that was to be found 
in her personnel records, but he enjoyed the rich sound of her voice and 
wanted to keep her talking.

"Nope... earth," she smiled to herself and effected an Irish accent that 
would have made her mother proud.  "In the land o' the wee fairy folk."

"Ah, I see,"  he chuckled at her lilt.  "My father was half Irish.  
Unfortunately, I was never able to get to see earth, at least not Ireland."

Rhiannon chuckled deeply.  "My mother is full blown 100%..... and you may 
yet.  Just don't tell my mother that you know me. She'll take one look at you 
and pay you to marry me."  She gave a sigh of exasperation. As much as she 
loved her mother, the woman was a pain in the side sometimes with all her 
talk about the way of the Goddess and fulfilling her divine destiny.

J'van felt the emotional tension ebbing as well as that in her muscles.  He 
grinned a bit, working her sholders a bit deeper.  "You say that like it is a 
bad thing.  Of course, she wouldn't need to pay me much."

She tilted her head forward more, enjoying this immensely.  "Given my current 
state, Lieutenant... I'm more apt to lock myself up in a convent."  A small, 
exasperated sighed escaped her lips.

"Yes, I know... but, things change, do they not?"  He had no trouble keeping 
the conversation to a light banter, not making it seem heavy and burdensome 
so as to encourage her to trust him in order to open her mind further and 
drop her remaining defenses.

She laughed despite herself.  "Things do.... they most certainly do."

"Hell, just from yesterday to today, it changed quite dramatically," he 
smiled and pushed deeper into her muscles, aware of the warmth that was 
spreading through her mind and body.  "Can I ask you something a bit... 
personal?"

Lost in a fog of sensation, she nodded.  "Go ahead... I can't promise I'll 
answer."

"At that moment, with the Ensign... how did you really feel?" He felt the 
panic as her muscles and mind started to seize up with tension.  He quickly 
leaned in and whispered in her ear, his breath warming it. "It's okay, don't 
answer, just relax."  He felt and sensed the war that raged within her, her 
struggle to trust.

After a few moments and several deep breaths later she responded, "Can I be 
perfectly honest?"  Even she was amazed at the tremulous quality to her 
usually steady voice.

"Yes, of course," J'van practically held his breath as he waited for her to 
take the final step.

"I don't know."

"Confused?"  He queried gently.  Maybe his mother was right, maybe he should 
have been a counselor.

"Oh, hell," she thought, "I've come this far...and he's so easy to talk to."  
She struggled a moment to find the words.  "I... I... I've never really dated 
much... or had much interest in sex with men or women.  I've been so focused 
on getting where I am...."

"I see," he responded in a way that would make Sigmund Freud proud.  "Well, I 
must say, that puts you in quite a position. You've not ben tainted by any 
bad relationships yet... "

Morrigan snorted in a very unladylike manner.  "Any relationships is more 
like it."

"That is good, in general, but it tends to leave you more... vulnerable."  
His hands continued to work their magic as he considered his next words.  
"Well then... how about a change of that?  Would you be open to that 
possibility?"

"Vulnerable," she muttered almost to herself.  "I hate that word."

"I know you do," J'van answered sympathetically, "but you would be 
vulnerable, that is part of any relationship.  The point is to find someone 
that would not take advantage of said vulnerability."

She sighed and shook her head.  "That requires... trust."

"Yes, it does... mutual trust."  He almost could not believe that they had 
gotten this far in the conversation.  J'van figured by this point, she would 
have threatened to kill him at least three times.  His hands backed off as 
she winced suddenly.  He had hit a very deep seated tender spot.  "Ooh, I am 
sorry."  He worked more carefully around the area, wondering what other 
wounds lay beneath her surface.

"My dilema now... is," she tried very hard not to get tense again. "With what 
happened in the turbolift.... I'm not sure.... I don't know...."

"Well... you are able to choose the best of both worlds," he said matter of 
factly. "I urge you to explore whatever you think you might like."

"What if I don't like either," she murmured distractedly. "... or worse... 
both."

"Then, have both," he was aware that he was simplifying it somewhat.  
"Betazoids are somewhat infamous to the humans, because we openly endorse 
relationships of all types. We have for millenia."  He hoped his little 
lecture would help her to accept things.  "Earth has only recently come to 
openly accept such arrangements. If you don't like either, you've lost 
nothing, and gained experience in what your soul seeks."

Morrigan sighed deeply. "You make it sound so easy."

He continued to work her shoulders then lifted first one arm and then the 
other as he massaged her triceps and biceps. Moving closer to her ear, he 
whispered, "That is because it IS easy."  He took the opportunity to inhale 
her scent.  It was clean and simple, no flowers or fancy musks... just the 
scent of pure... her.  "In fact, among our people, a multiple partner 
relationship is quite prevalent."  He was rewarded once more with her 
intoxicating chuckle.

"But, why me!?"  She bemoaned her dilema as she tried to ignore the shiver 
that coursed through her body.

"Why you? Hmmm... perhaps the universe is telling you something... that it is 
time for you to enjoy more of life."

Rhiannon's tone turned suddenly serious. "I can't enjoy life... I don't have 
time.... I have a ship to run... they're all so young...."

"And they are in capable hands... You can live a life other then this ship... 
you know it," he assured her.  "You know the times when you are doing 
something  and you can't help feel ... that someone else should be 
there...doing it... I am sure of it.  You don't have to carry this ship 
yourself."  He waited through the contemplative silence, wondering if he had 
pushed her too far this time.

Finally the silence was broken with a simple question.  "May I call you 
J'van?"

He smiled broadly behind her, knowing she could not see, "Please do."

"You may call me.... Captain." Her chuckle deepened into a full throated 
laugh.

J'van gave her shoulders a teasing squeeze.  "Aye, Aye, Captain."

"No... you may call me.... Rhi..... but only when no one else is around."  
Her smile faded into a look of deep thought.

"I know, I will not call you Rhi over the comm while you are on the bridge."  
He felt her tense again and cursed himself for reminding her of her duty.

Rhiannon sat up straighter as if she had been reprimanded by a Fleet Admiral. 
  "The bridge... I've left it for long enough." 

"Rhi...," he lowered his voice to a soothing pitch. "If there is a problem, 
they will call you."  His hands moved up the thin, pale column of her neck, 
coaxing her to remain seater.  "I don't know about before I got here, but 
since I have been here, I have not seen you off duty at all."  He spoke the 
truth.  It seemed that no matter what the hour, Morrigan's commbadge signal 
was always active and available.  He had begun to wonder if she had been 
assigned quarters at all, or if she just lived on the whole ship.
"You need to relax." He stated simply.  "I don't want to sound too... 
forward, but if you were to move over to the couch, this would be easier, and 
you would be far more comfortable."

"If I relax anymore... I'll fall asleep."  Though her mind was telling her 
that she needed to get back to work, her body was refusing to co-operate.

"So, fall asleep."  He resisted the urge to stroke her cheek and concentrated 
his thoughts on her shoulders. "I'd actually be honored to have you fall 
asleep... it would mean that I truly have relaxed you."

"And what would your department think?"  It was a half-hearted protest and 
she knew it.

"We just had a crew rotation... none of the crew out there now know your in 
here."  He answered matter of factly.  He noticed as she licked her lips in 
uncertainty.  "And those doors are 4 inches of blast plating, nothing gets 
through them. I've more or less made this room the most well protected one on 
the ship."  A slight feeling of victory coursed through his body as he saw 
her gather herself and begin to stand.  "You're completely safe here," he 
assured as he helped her to her feet.  It was not so much helping, but 
sticking close since the massage sometimes resulted in lightheadedness.

"Safe... but from whom....," she wondered idley.  "Are you sure you didn't 
spike my drink," she accused lightly as she walked unsteadily but under her 
own stubborn power to the couch and sank into its cushions.

"Of course not," he said with a steady smile.  "As I said, I am not the 
ambush type."  He stooped at the her feet and moved to take a hold of one of 
her boots.  "May I?"

"Are you trying to steal my clothes?"  She said with a drunken sounding 
laugh.  "You don't have boot fetish, do you?"

"No, no, just your boots," he smiled up are her. "And no... I just thought 
that you might be more comfortable."

She chuckled at him and leaned back against the couch wondering how she got 
here in the first place.  "Okay."

As if he were unsaddling a high strung thoroghbred who had just run a 
grueling race, J'van removed them gently, yet firmly with slow and decisive 
motions before placing them on the floor.  He shifted to a kneeling position, 
keeping on hand reassuringly on her leg as he had noticed that she was 
starting to look on the uncomfortable side.  He suspected what she already 
knew, that she had never been in a situation like this before in her life.... 
one of intimate quietness.  "Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?"  
His eyes sought hers in an effort to connect and help to calm her.

"I don't know... a map, perhaps?"  She offered him a weak smile in exchange 
for his kindnesses."

"A map?"  He tilted his head quizzically at her cryptic request.  "Of what?"

Rhiannon released a sigh of despair and inner anguish.  "I don't know the 
rules of this game, Jvan," she said honestly.  "They didn't give me the book 
of regulations."

"Well, there are only two rules."  He returned her smile with one filled with 
open understanding.  "One, relax. Two, stay relaxed, be comfortable."  He 
gave her knee an encouraging pat.  "If ever I should do something or ask 
something of you that you do not feel comfortable with, you must tell me."  
He nodded and grinned as she took a deep breath to steady her nerve and then 
let it out.  "There you go."

A nervous laugh burst unexpectantly from her throat as she considered the 
situation she was in.   "So... I bet you've got a lot of experiece with 
this... you seem to know your way around."

"Yes, a bit, perhaps," he acknowledged.  "But, to be perfectly honest, I have 
a lot more experience killing and destroying.  I was a member of a Marine 
assault squad." He stood from his position with ease.  "May I show you 
something?"

Rhiannon quirked a brow with feigned amusement.  "As long as you're not about 
to drop your pants... people have tried that pick up routine before.... with 
disasterous results, I might add."

"Not my pants.. no." He could not fail to see the humor in her statement.

She rewarded him with a broader smile.  "Then you're safe."

With sure, steady fingers, J'van unbuttoned his tunic, and removed it, then 
lifted his under shirt, revealing a jagged, ugly scar, about 10 inches long 
on the right side of his chest.  "This is why I am here now."

Rhiannon had seen her share of injuries in her tour of duty, and could 
imagine what sort of wound would leave such an ugly scar.  She winced and 
resisted the urge to trace it with her finger.  "That looks like it was 
painful."

He laughed a bit. "I was dead. Literally."

She blinked in suprise.  "Really?"

J'van let the shirt down slowly, not bothering to replace the uniform tunic. 
"Yes, it took me almost a year to recover ... a Jem'Hadar commander did that."

Thinking of those that she had known and lost, Rhiannon frowned and said 
quietly, "We lost a lot of good people to those sorry sons of bitches."

"Yes, we did," he agreed.  "I was the only one of my squad to survive."  He 
caught her gaze and held it.  "The day I left the medlab, I vowed a few 
things, one of them would be to leave the killing and destruction behind, and 
seek out things more important."

The serious tone to his voice made her sit forward and listen more intently.  
"Like?"

"Love, for one thing... a somewhat normal life." J'van knelt near her once 
again so that they could be more on the same level. He didn't want his 
imposing height to make her feel threatened.  "Just to be able to look at 
someone and see them or their beauty, instead of how many different ways I 
could kill them."

With calm assurance, he reached behind her head for the ties that bound her 
raven tresses in its severe braid.  With a gentle tug, he released it and her 
hand reached back to quickly secure the ends before it could unravel.  "Let 
it go... please," he whispered.  Her hand trembled as it hesitated, and then 
she released it somewhat reluctantly.  He was pushing the envelope and he 
knew it.  He also knew that he couldn't stop.  One step too far and the 
fragile bridge of trust would collapse beneath him, but the effects of it 
were intoxicating.  "Shake your hair out," he said gently.

Her heart seemed to be pounding in her ears as she sat looking into his eyes. 
 "Aren't you supposed to be on duty?"  Her voice was a barely audible whisper.

"Not as of 15 minutes ago," he whispered back.

Closing her eyes, she lifted her hands and drove her fingers deep in her 
hair, shaking it loose from its restrictive confinement.  She lowered her 
chin and looked at the floor, her hair forming a protective curtain from his 
eyes.

"Incredible," he whispered.  He couldn't help but to reach out and caress the 
straight, ebony tresses.

"It's hair."  She smiled to herself. "In case you haven't noticed... you have 
it, too," her tone had turned teasing in an effort to break the intensity of 
the moment.

"Yes, I do... but it is wonderous how it can make such a difference."

"D....d....difference? In what?"  She raised her eyes to him once more.  "I'm 
the same person I was before I... let it down."

"With the hair comes the walls," he smiled a bit more.  "Computer, reduce 
lighting by half."

Sensing a set up, Morrigan laughed as the lights lowered a bit.  "You better 
be careful... there could be mines."

"I've faced mines before."  He looked at her in silent amazement.  He had 
never really thought that he was going to ever be able to feel like this. 
J'van leaned in and ever so gently kissed her on the mouth, letting his lips 
linger on hers as his placed his hand gently on the side of her face in a 
soothing caress.

Rhiannon closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers, unsure of what is going to 
happen or what she was going to feel.... if anything.  Not being ambushed and 
somewhat prepared for the moment, allowed her to take her time.  A wave of 
panic broke over her at first, followed by the feel of warmth spreading 
through her veins.  As if to steady herself, she place a hand on his upper 
arm.  Feeling the bare skin beneath it, her fingers instinctively began 
lightly exploring the muscles that lie taut beneath the surface.

J'vans other hand found its way into her hair, winding his fingers in its 
thickness, and releasing to travel through its silken weight.  He reluctantly 
broke the kiss and pulled back.  Was it his unwillingness to push her too 
far, or an uncertainty in his ability to control the fire that had ignited 
within him?  "Now rest, Rhi,"  he whispered hoarsely,  "you're in safe hands."

Releasing a ragged sigh, she murmured.  "How do I know you're not secretly 
taping this to use against me later?"

"Because," he whispered with a faint smile.   "It would possibly be used as 
self incriminating... and I'm smarter then that."

Tired of fighting her weariness and exhausted from the events of the day, she 
leaned sideways and rested her head against the arm of the couch.  Her legs 
had instinctively curled up and onto the cushions. "Maybe just fifteen 
minutes," she murmured as she slipped from consciousness.

"Of course, Rhi," he murmured softly though he knew she was already asleep.  
After allowing himself to finger a stray lock of her midnight hair, he stood 
in the dim lighting and returned to his desk.... to watch over his Captain as 
she slept.

Other related posts:

  • » <USS Banshee> Easing the Pain (Conclusion)