Current mood:	accomplished
Current music:	'Somewhere Only We Know' - Keane

FIC: [Vandread] 'Trust' 2/2 (BC/Meia, NC-17)
And the second part of 'Trust':

Fandom: Vandread (anime)
Date Finished: June 27th, 2005
Classification: Angst, WAFF, Romance, PWP
Pairing: BC/Meia
Rating: NC-17
Note: Direct sequel to ‘Himegoto’. Response to challenge #1 (Anonymity, or, "Taken by the Faceless Stranger") in the 30_lemons community.

Trust
By Elsewhere
elsewherecw@shaw.ca

All other information in Part One.

Part Two:

*****

She dreamed that night, the kind of dreams she hadn’t experienced in months. First she was running down a pitch-black corridor, crying helplessly. She knew she was being pursued, and every time she tried a door, it was inevitably locked. Then she was on the streets, walking through the rain. This dream was only marked by its absence of human presence---she was, literally, the only person left on the planet.

She woke shivering, keeping her eyes closed against the phantoms of her mind. She stiffened, going still, when she first realized that she was restrained. Her first instinct was to struggle, but sense returned to her quickly, the dreamscape dropping away as she recognized reality.

She remained still, though her eyes were open and staring unseeing into the darkness. She was in BC’s room, in BC’s bed. BC’s arm was wrapped around her…BC’s body was pressed against hers, suffusing her with warmth. She shivered again, but this time she felt no fear.

Her eyes slid closed again as she allowed herself a small smile. The dreams were due to stress, she was certain. Adjusting to this relationship involved a certain amount of anxiety, and required a certain amount of effort. Several times in the last few weeks she’d found herself drifting into contemplation, musing about the position she found herself in.

But now her position was entirely different. They had reached the next level of intimacy, almost faster than she had time to recognize it, and now a lot of the contemplative "what-ifs" were necessarily present concerns. The release she had found that night in BC’s arms came at the price of an emotional tension that would take much longer to resolve. She had resigned herself to this---or no, not resigned. She had agreed to move forward with this. She was *determined* to move forward with this.

Their intimacy of the night before had only proved to her that her interest was genuine, her determination not unfounded. This *was* something worth trying for.

But the thought frightened her; that was undeniable. The thought of trusting someone---not only with her body, with physical intimacy, but with her mind and, even more terrifyingly, her heart---sent her reeling back into the nightmares of her youth, a time when she had come to believe that she would never trust again.

And that she would choose to place her trust in a man…the thought still left her vaguely numb. Right here, right in this moment, lying in BC’s bed and wrapped in BC’s warm embrace, she…they were challenging everything they had ever known to be true and right. Together, in this bed, they were advancing a quiet revolution. And of all the battles to be fought in life, she felt sure that a battle against a lifetime’s beliefs and values must be the hardest.

/But as with all of my other battles, I *will* fight to the best of my ability,/ she thought to herself with a smirk, even as her hand clasped BC’s, holding it tight against her belly. /This is worth fighting for./

"What are you thinking about?"

She started, a short cry rising up in her throat that she only just managed to clamp down in time. He was awake!

"I’m sorry, did I startle you?" He sounded amused, and she took in a shuddering breath as the palm of his hand flattened against her lower abdomen, his fingers gently kneading her muscles.

"Yes…I didn’t know you were awake," she said honestly, her voice breathless. "How long have you been?"

"Since you awoke, I imagine." It was only in this vocalization that she realized the difference in his voice. The deep, unmistakably masculine voice of the night before was gone, replaced with his usual sultry contralto. "I’ve always been a light sleeper."

She sighed, closing her eyes, as she felt his mouth on her bare shoulder, his teeth gently nibbling at her skin.

"I was…thinking about how determined I am to see this through," she murmured, and she felt him still against her.

"Oh?" he said after a moment.

"Yes. I think this is worth making the effort for, despite the…awkwardness."

He remained still, his arm still warmly around her waist, and she waited, breath held, for a response.

"I agree," he said finally, his voice soft. "And I think---correct me if I’m mistaken---that we made considerable progress last night."

Although she was sure he was referring to emotional intimacy, the thought of the ‘progress’ they had made last night sent a rush of heat to her cheeks.

"You’re not mistaken," she said quietly.

"I’m glad," he whispered, and she couldn’t help but smile. That was BC, as always concerned about the needs of others above his own. She would have to change that at some point, at least where this relationship was concerned. The only worth in trying, in her eyes, was if they were to try together.

With this thought in mind, she squirmed a bit in his grip until he took the hint and lifted his arm. Free of her restraint, she flipped over, and listened to the soft sound of surprise he let out when she snuggled up against him, her hands against his breasts.

She felt him catch his breath, his chest going still under her palms, as she leaned in and touched her lips to his. He let the breath out slowly into her mouth, relaxing into her touch as she kissed him, gradually exploring his mouth while her hands lazily traveled over his chest.

At first he stiffened, just as he had the first time they had kissed, when her fingers circled his nipples. This time she noted the reaction, and backed off, her hands smoothing over the sides of his breasts, cupping underneath them and massaging gently while her tongue tangled with his, holding his attention in the kiss. He relaxed against her, his own hands rubbing in slow circles over her back; he was allowing her the upper hand, and she appreciated it. She wanted the time to explore him, the way he had explored her.

She broke away slowly, smiling to herself at the way he dipped his head, following the retreat of her mouth as though he didn’t want the kiss to end. Her smile widened, this time in satisfaction, at the pleased hum that escaped him when she nuzzled into his neck, tongue and teeth teasing the column of his throat. When she dragged her lips along the joint where his jaw met his cheek, then nibbled against the soft skin just below, his skin pulsing against her mouth, he trembled, the hum becoming something of a low purr. His hands tightened on her shoulder blades as he let out a muffled groan, and she stored this information in the back of her mind. She’d found a sensitive place, and through its exploitation she now had him at her mercy.

His body remained pliant against hers even as she pressed her hands to his shoulders, encouraging him to lie flat against the bed, and slid herself over top of him, straddling his hips. She continued to suck and lave his pulse point, encouraged by the way he squirmed slightly under her touch. Distracted by the pleasant sensation of her mouth on his skin, he didn’t stiffen or protest as her hands returned to their exploration of his breasts.

She began with the gentlest of massages, her hands closing lightly over his breasts, his nipples pressed against her palms. With her thumbs, she smoothed and pressed the supple flesh. Encouraged by the way he sighed and seemed to lift slightly towards her, she continued on to brush her hands over his nipples, first gently and then more firmly. Feeling them harden beneath her touch, she curled her fingers lightly around them and pinched ever so slightly, awaiting reaction. He groaned, trembling under her hands, so she smiled to herself again, determined to continue.

Her mouth made its way along the side of his face until she reached his ear, her tongue and teeth exploring this new territory as her hands ran slowly down his sides, smoothing over curvaceous hips before she reached the hem of his shirt. She felt him stiffen slightly when her fingers first brushed against bare skin, fingertips ghosting over his midriff as she pushed her hands up beneath the shirt. She was quick to respond to this new sign of inhibition, returning her mouth back to square one. He accepted the kiss readily enough, his hands lacing through her hair as she tangled her tongue with his, again distracting him. He had almost gone slack against her again, but when her fingers traced under the flesh of his breasts, she felt his mouth go still against hers.

She sat up, pulling her hands back to rest on his ribcage, evidently safer territory.

"What’s wrong?" she asked, and she listened as he sighed.

"I’m sorry," he said, and she could tell by the note of impatience in his voice that he was more disappointed with himself than she felt at her lack of progress. "But no one has ever touched me like that before. It’s…strange."

"Men don’t do this?" she asked, her thumbs again lightly tracing the undersides of his breasts, feeling him tremble reflexively in response.

"No, we do," he countered, his voice somewhat strained. "But I have not engaged in…anything like this, at all…since my body was changed."

Curiosity welled up in her, begging to be set free.

"How did it happen?" she asked, her hands once again moving in slow circles over his ribcage. "Did you…grow them? Or…"

She stopped, aware of the awkwardness of her wording, and her lack of a reference point from which to speak more competently.

"No. I was offered the opportunity to achieve this body shape naturally, by hormonal treatment," he said, his voice growing a bit distant as he spoke. "But they warned me that there would be changes to my voice as well…permanent changes. I was afraid to lose my voice, at the time. It’s ironic…now I have no use for it at all."

"I like your voice," she said, the words tumbling off her tongue before she thought about them. She blinked in surprise at herself.

He was silent.

"So then, how…?" she asked, encouraging him to take up his story again.

"They’re implants. The best our technology had to offer," he said, and evidently he was still appreciating the irony; his tone was somewhat sardonic.

"They feel real," she said, a bit more hesitant to speak her mind this time.

"I’m sure the doctors on Talark would be glad to hear it," he said, and she stiffened a bit at his tone.

"I’m sorry…should I not have asked?" She posed the question carefully.

"Of course you should have asked," he said, and she jumped when she felt him shift beneath her, suddenly sitting up. Against her will she slid back from where she had been sitting lightly against his abdomen, and landed squarely in his lap. She stiffened, instantly aware of the presence of that odd sensation against her bottom, just like the night before.

"There are things you’ll need to know," he murmured against her cheek, and it was only when he enfolded her in his arms, gently pulling her closer to him, that she realized she was shivering.

For the moment, she decided to avoid the subject---or rather, she felt the need to. Her voice was breathy when she spoke.

"If you find them awkward…why do you remain this way?" she asked, and again, she wasn’t aware of how stiff she was against him until she felt his fingers intertwining with hers and squeezing, encouraging her to relax.

"Good question," he said quietly, his lips against her cheek. "And one I don’t know how to answer. I said I’d become comfortable like this…but evidently ‘comfortable’ isn’t quite the right word. When I returned to Earth, and faced the possibility of returning to the way I had been, I found myself unable to bear the thought. At some point, I *had* become one of you, in mind and body. I…was afraid of losing all that I had gained."

"I suppose that makes sense," she agreed, after thinking about it for a moment. Talking to him, feeling his hands in hers, helped her forget her nervousness. "But then…why won’t you let me touch you?"

"I will," he said, softly. "But it may take time before it comes to feel less strange to me."

She nodded, wordlessly accepting his subtle expression of permission, and retrieved her hands. His hands rested on her hips as she returned to her previous task with a new determination. Her hands were as gentle as she knew how as she pushed up the shirt, lifting it over his torso until he lifted his arms. She waited while he took it off and tossed it away, listening to the hoarse sound of his breathing---he *was* nervous about this, very nervous. When his hands again fell to her hips, she continued.

She started slowly, her hands cautiously massaging his belly, her fingertips tracing over and around his ribs. She felt him breathing before she heard it, his chest shuddering against her palms. Again, she began carefully, her thumbs tracing along the underside of his bare breasts. When he sighed but didn’t stiffen, she cupped his breasts in her hands and lifted them slightly, weighing them against her palms. They did feel real…nothing struck her as being off or ‘strange’ about them. Evidently Talark were more technologically advanced than they were renowned for. But then, she supposed she should have realized that already, after the number of times she had been helped by Duero.

She felt his breathing quicken as she flicked her thumbs over his nipples once before smoothing her palms over them. Just like a woman’s, his nipples hardened into points against her hands, and just like a woman, he sighed in appreciation as she massaged the warm flesh in her hands. She felt him stiffen only slightly when she bent her head, her lips tracing over the upper swell of each breast before she grew bolder. While the left breast remained under the care of her hand, she set to work on the right, her tongue first circling around the nipple swiftly as a test before her mouth closed gently around the hardened nub of flesh. She stilled briefly in surprise at the guttural sound that tore out of his throat, then smiled and refocused. Her lips massaged his nipple with care before she brought her tongue back into play, running over and around the nipple until she could feel his chest heaving against her.

She could also feel that *something* pressing more insistently up against her, but she ignored it. She had a task to do; the things she would need to know could come later. With that in mind, only the barest flicker of anxiousness in her stomach, she moved on to the left breast, warming the right by replacing her mouth with her hand. He shuddered and murmured something nonsensical, his hands having since moved back into her hair, his fingers distractedly fingering the strands as she lavished her attentions on his other breast.

She pulled back with a certain amount of reluctance---she was enjoying the way he arched and sighed under her touch more than she had expected---and lifted her head. A muffled sound of surprise escaped her when his lips fastened over hers, kissing her harder than he ever had. She quickly melted into the insistent kiss, her hands tangling in his hair as his tongue stroked and battled hers. She was so preoccupied by the kiss that she forgot about her previous concerns, until she felt him shift beneath her, his pelvis pressing against hers. Her eyes flew open, and she listened to the harsh sound of him breathing in her ear as he pulled back from the kiss.

"What is that?" she whispered hesitantly, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders.

He seemed to consider in silence for a moment, his breath calming slightly as she waited for his answer.

"The part of me that makes me most different from you," he said finally, and she fought against the thrill of fear that tingled down her spine.

"Would you…show me?" she asked, her voice hesitant and unsure.

"Yes," he said, though the sound was somewhat choked.

"Then…would you turn on the lights?" Her voice grew quiet with determination.

"Yes." A breathless reply, enough to make her shiver, this time with definite anticipation.

She slid off of him and waited while he rolled off the bed. She blinked into the light that suddenly flooded the room, for a moment blinded. As her vision cleared, she saw him standing before her, his back turned to her, his pajama bottoms in a pool at his feet.

The back view of him was entirely unremarkable---nothing screamed "different" to her, at least in the few cursory glances she swept over his frame. His back was muscular, as she had expected; she was fully aware of his physical condition. His waist tapered into a familiar hourglass shape, and his legs were slender. From this angle, he looked to her just the same as any other woman she had seen naked.

"Turn around," she said, her voice hardly a whisper. Anticipation and an undeniable, if mild, feeling of dread left her breathless.

He seemed to hesitate briefly before he finally turned. Her eyes met his for a moment before she lowered her gaze, sweeping the length of his body.

After taking a moment to really take in what she was seeing, her reaction was blunt, and, she realized later, rather crass.

"It’s true!" she blurted, a hand lifting to cover her mouth. "Men do have tubes between their legs!"

She wasn’t sure what his immediate reaction to her outburst was, because she couldn’t tear her eyes away from…it. But she did know that she hadn’t expected his eventual, loud burst of laughter. Her eyes lifted from the sight morbid fascination dictated she should keep staring at, and sought his face. The moment she saw the way he was laughing, his eyes closed and his body shaking with genuine mirth as he chuckled helplessly, she adopted a look of perplexity and a touch of embarrassment.

"I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to say that," she said quietly, blushing. "It was just the first thing that came to mind. I had heard the others talk about it…but I wasn’t expecting…"

She stopped, realizing she was only digging herself deeper into the hole, and with her ears burning bright red, she settled into a somewhat mortified silence.

"It’s all right," he said through his laughter, and she watched as he sat down on the edge of the bed. His eyes finally opened and regarded her kindly. "I just wasn’t expecting that particular reaction."

She flinched slightly, then relaxed when she felt his hand slide into hers, once again entwining her fingers with his in a gesture of comfort.

"I was just…surprised," she said, and winced at how silly it sounded. She was still blushing as he gave her a reassuring smile.

"If it’s any consolation, I was equally surprised by what I felt last night," he said softly, his eyes flickering suggestively downwards. Her blush spread, heating her ears again. "We are more different than I had realized."

The way he was looking at her, his eyes sweeping the length of her torso, finally served to remind her that this was the first time he had seen her naked. Just as he had exposed himself before her, she too was now exposed by the light. Her cheeks flushed further as she reflexively crossed her arms over her chest.

"Don’t," he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers even as his hand reached out to ease her arms away. "Let me look at you."

She turned her eyes toward the wall, swallowing back her embarrassment as he looked at her, visually retracing the path his hands and mouth had taken on her body the night before. She stiffened out of surprise when she first felt him leaning towards her, then relaxed easily into his kiss, letting him coax her into a mellower state.

Just as before, she started to lose herself in the kiss, forgetting all of the inhibitions that kept her back when her mind was clearer. She found herself leaning into him, her hands reaching for him…

She stopped again, her eyes flying open, then quickly pulled back her hand. She’d touched it! By accident, she’d touched it. Her cheeks bled bright red again when she saw the slight smile at his lips, the sparkle in his eyes.

"Is it that frightening?" he asked, his tone lightly teasing. "It doesn’t bite."

Ignoring her own intense blush, pushing down her embarrassment, she kept her eyes firmly rooted to the shaft between his legs. Now that he was kneeling in front of her, he seemed cool and confident, as though having nothing more to hide had somehow relieved him of his awkwardness. She realized she wouldn’t feel the same until she went ahead and asked.

"What is it for?" There, a blunt and awkward question, but it *was* the question at the forefront of her mind.

"It’s really not that different from you, I think," he said, shrugging slightly. "When we have sex, this is the place where we feel the most pleasure."

As he spoke, he lightly cupped the shaft in his hand, and her eyes widened against her will as she watched. It was the most incredible shade of reddish purple…it looked terribly painful.

"It seems so…" She cut herself off, biting her tongue. She had already embarrassed herself enough; she didn’t want to stick her foot any further down her throat.

"So…? Go ahead, you can say what you’re thinking," he said, sounding vaguely amused.

"…Extraneous," she said, her voice small. She listened as he chuckled again.

"Perhaps it is," he agreed with a smile, his eyes twinkling. "But this is how we are."

She swallowed, determined to proceed despite her hesitance.

"May I…touch it?" she asked, looking into his eyes as she attempted to gauge his reaction. She watched as something heated flickered briefly across his eyes.

"Of course," he breathed, holding her gaze, his own intense.

With another swallow, she gathered her courage and shifted forward until they knelt facing each other, their knees just barely touching. Finally, she lowered her gaze, intent on watching and learning from her motions.

She took his gesture of a few moments before as initiative, and her first move was to lightly cup her hand underneath the warm shaft, until the head rested lightly in her palm. She nearly drew back when the shaft twitched against her skin, but with a quick breath, she held her ground. Her curious eyes took in every inch of the flesh in her hand, nervousness quickly giving way to a hesitant fascination as she watched it seemingly pulse in her gentle grip. Encouraged by the way he lightly ran a hand through her hair, not seeming bothered by her awkward motions, she decided to proceed with her exploration.

She felt him tremble as her fingertips traced a light path over the top of the shaft, then moved along the underside. She closed her fingers in a light circle around the base and dragged her hand slowly to the tip, and her fascination overtook her nervousness as the shaft grew slightly in her hand, swelling in both length and width.

"What’s happening?" she murmured absently, busy stroking her fingertips over the heated flesh and familiarizing herself with the feel of the skin against her hand.

"When we’re aroused, it fills with blood," he said, sounding similarly distracted, though his hand continued to calmly stroke through her hair, his other hand lightly resting on her shoulder.

"Hmm…" If she thought about it, this new information was also reminiscent of her own body’s reactions to arousal. It just seemed that men experienced the ‘blood rush’ to a greater degree.

She bent, turning her attention to the sizable sack of flesh hanging just beneath the shaft. With little of her previous reluctance---once she committed to something, she always moved ahead with it confidently---she cupped it in her hand, testing the weight and feel of it against her palm. With her thumb running over the soft flesh, she quickly ascertained that the skin actually covered two separate entities. The whole of it just barely fit in the palm of her hand. She found herself thinking once again that surely this was simply inefficient…not to mention, how did they *walk* with these things between their legs?

She glanced up when she heard the sound of him chuckling softly.

"What’s funny?"

"Your face," he answered simply, his voice somewhat breathless. His eyes sparkled with mirth. "You look so perplexed."

She felt herself blush slightly.

"Because it’s so different from anything I could have expected," she mumbled, pulling her hand back slightly until just her fingertips rested on him. "Should I stop?"

"No, you don’t have to stop," he said, and then he tilted his head as he seemed to reconsider his words. "Although you may if you wish."

"I’m not sure what to do," she confessed, glancing downwards again. "Could you show me…? What a man would do. It seemed to work well enough for you last night…"

She trailed off, looking back at him as she waited for an answer. He smiled at her so warmly that she couldn’t help but smile slightly in return, and she closed her eyes, sighing imperceptibly in relief as his mouth closed over hers. His kiss so easily drew her thoughts away from nervousness or embarrassment or shame…she felt her entire body start to relax into the pleasure she felt from the movement of his mouth against hers.

As they kissed, she felt him take her hand, and she tried to remain relaxed as he guided her fingers to once again close gently around his length. She followed his motions as he tugged lightly on her hand. She got the idea quickly enough and continued the slow drag of her hand up to the tip of the shaft, then under his guidance started back down. After another couple of passes with his help, he dropped his hand away, and she continued to slowly pump her hand up and down on her own. By this time he’d pulled away from the kiss and she was watching as he closed his eyes, his breathing speeding up.

While her hand continued its work, he grasped her other hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing lightly. She took this as a sign of encouragement, and quickened her pace. Her eyes widened slightly as she again felt the length in her hand growing, filling out, tensing and twitching. As though he sensed her reaction, he opened his eyes and smiled at her again, though his smile seemed somewhat strained. His eyes were as encouraging as the light squeeze of his fingers against hers, so she kept to her pace, holding his gaze as she moved her hand up and down the shaft. She watched as his eyes started to haze over, listened as his breathing grew more and more ragged, and finally felt him start to lift towards her with each stroke of her hand, his hips pumping up to meet her.

"This is good?" All the signs were telling her it was---he was reacting much the same she was used to, the way anyone she had ever known started to act the closer they were drawn to release---but she had to be sure.

"Very good," he agreed breathlessly, his eyes closed again. She blinked, then smirked a bit, somehow pleased by the loss of control she was witnessing, as he grunted lightly and smacked his free hand back against the bed, holding himself steady as his hips continued their erratic movements to meet her hand.

On a whim, she pressed a little closer to him, trapping their joined hands between them as she leaned in, her mouth again seeking his sensitive pulse point. He shivered and let go of her hand, instead moving his arm to encircle her, pulling her even closer, their breasts pressed flush against each other. She caught her breath at the sensation of his hot skin against hers, and let the breath out in a fast stream when his other hand came up to touch the small of her back, guiding her forward. Faster than she knew what was happening, she found herself straddling his thigh, the heat of her core pressed to his skin. His arms were around her, holding her as close as he could while leaving her hand unhampered to continue its steady strokes.

She wrapped her free arm around his neck, steadying herself as she sped her pace slightly. She listened to him groan, his forehead dropping to rest on her shoulder and his hands tightening their grip on her. Now she was sure he was close, and she was determined to bring him as much pleasure as he had brought her that night. She tightened her grip ever so slightly, increasing the friction of her palm and fingers against him, and she listened as his breathing became even more erratic, felt as he started to stiffen against her.

"Meia." The slightest whisper against her neck, but she felt it through to her bones, especially when it was accompanied by a low moan as, in the next instant, everything came to a head. She felt him go still against her for a moment before he started to tremble, and she blinked in shock as a warm, thick liquid burst out of the tip of the shaft, bathing her hand, stomach and thighs with sticky wetness. She slowed the movement of her hand and finally stilled when the last of the ejaculation finished and he relaxed against her. She kept the shaft cupped in her hand, unsure what to do next, and watched in fascination as it deflated, going flaccid in her palm.

She listened to him trying to catch his breath as she finally drew her hand away and lifted it to stare at the liquid coating her fingers.

"What is this?" she asked, and before she received an answer---he still seemed unable to speak---she lifted her pointer finger to her mouth. She quickly drew it back, making a face. "It’s bitter."

When he spoke, his voice was husky.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I should have warned you before I… In any case, as I’m sure you figured, this is what we produce when we orgasm."

"So you do orgasm, just like us?" she said, even as she tried to discreetly brush off some of the sticky white material onto her thigh. "I thought that’s what that was."

"It seems we do," he agreed, and she felt him clasp her hand briefly before his hands moved to her hips and carefully lifted her away. She allowed it, letting him deposit her back on the bed, where she knelt and waited while he got up. He swayed unsteadily at first, and she lifted a hand, ready to offer him help, but he quickly regained his equilibrium. She waited as he disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared a moment later with a washcloth.

"Lie down a minute," he urged her, and she did as asked, watching as he again sat at the edge of the bed. She shivered when she first felt the warm cloth against her belly. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation as he gently cleaned her belly and thighs, then moved on to her hand. After he’d carefully washed each finger, she felt him curl his hand under her knee, tickling her as he urged her knee upwards, until her leg was bent. She shuddered deeply when she first felt the rapidly cooling cloth gently probing at her most sensitive area. She could feel his eyes on her, curious as he got his first good look at the part of her he’d been so intimate with in the dark.

She nearly cried out, her eyes snapping open in shock, when she felt his tongue quickly swipe across her opening. She’d felt the washcloth leave her, but she’d had no idea he intended any further action.

"You’re aroused, aren’t you?" he murmured, and she fought a groan as his nose nuzzled lightly against the blue curls between her thighs.

"Yes," she said through gritted teeth.

"Good…" he said softly. "Because I wanted to try this…"

This time the groan escaped her despite her efforts to contain it, as his hands curled under her knees and lifted each knee until she was open for him. His tongue darted out again, this time making a broader pass over her sex, and she shuddered at the sensation.

He was as conscientious at his new task as he always was in his duty, his tongue exploring her entirely and trying different strokes. He seemed to pause every time she trembled hard and gripped the bedclothes, as though noting the strength of her reactions to various techniques. She quivered helplessly when he finally caught onto what she liked best, his tongue moving gradually back and forth from dipping somewhat aggressively into her vagina to encircling and flicking over her clitoris. He found a rhythm surprisingly quickly after that, moving into a relatively steady pattern of licking and suckling that soon had her whimpering in the back of her throat. Her hands tangled in his hair, encouraging him, and when she came, she was sure she gripped him a little too tightly, but she couldn’t help herself…everything spiraled away from her in that instant, her orgasm substantially more powerful than the one before.

She was still shaking uncontrollably as she started to come down from the high, and when she finally regained awareness, she realized that he was lying beside her, cradling her against him. With a soft sound of wordless pleasure, she turned her body and cuddled up to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. They held each other in silence for some time before the silence was finally broken by a softly uttered curse.

"Mm?" Even as she opened her eyes, about to ask him what was wrong, he withdrew his embrace and sat up, cursing once again before he slid off the bed. "What is it?"

"The time," he answered even as he disappeared into the bathroom again.

She blinked, then quickly turned over. Shit! It was well over an hour after both of them were supposed to begin their daily shifts. She scrambled to her feet and, totally forgetting any pretense at modesty, she followed him into the washroom. He was just starting a shower when she came in, his hand under the spray gauging the temperature. He glanced back at her, his free hand brushing several wayward strands of silver away from his face.

"You’ll have to join me," he said, gesturing towards the shower with his chin.

"I have every intention of doing so," she assured him, and when he lifted an eyebrow and smirked, she smiled back at him.

Considering the level of distraction that had made them late---/Gods/, she thought to herself, /I practically forgot that time *existed*/---they conducted the shower with surprising efficiency. They stood together under the spray, but they only touched to pass each other shampoo and soap, and they were finished in what she was sure was record time. After rubbing herself down quickly with a towel, she darted back out into the main room, scrambling for the pile of her clothing still in a rumpled mess on the floor.

She was most of the way into her uniform, her fingers moving quickly, when she felt BC touch her shoulder lightly.

"Meia," he said softly, and she turned to him expectantly, an eyebrow lifting. She had already switched gears entirely, her mind in business mode, so when he smiled at her and bent to give her a light peck on the mouth, she wasn’t prepared.

"Thank you for this," he said, his eyes bright as they looked into hers. She watched as he pulled away and moved towards the door, having already finished with his clothes and hair, though of course he didn’t quite look as impeccable as usual. She didn’t get a chance to reply to him before he was gone, leaving her alone in his quarters. It wasn’t until he was gone that she finally realized that the smell lingering in her nostrils was the scent of *them*---of a night spent together, of sex and sweat. Despite the shower, she was still aware of the smell of him on her, and even as she finished doing up her uniform and headed out towards the docking bay, she was blushing and smiling to herself.

/No…thank you, BC./

*****

THE END