Disclaimer - Yeah, sure. Paramount can own them.
*
Kathryn's arrival in sickbay was greeted with the same level of enthusiasm it always was when it was evident she wasn't seriously injured; a roll of the eyes, an exaggerated sigh, and a "What happened this time?"
When she told him he quickly dropped the act with an '"Oh." It is were possible, it seemed as if all the blood drained from his face.
"Surprised?" She asked, hoping he would be. It wouldn't do at all for her crew to get *too* comfortable.
"Not that you have a sex life," he answered, trying to look a little more at ease. "After all, I'm the one who confirmed your pregnancy. I suppose I just didn't expect it to be quite so...voracious."
Kathryn smiled.
Getting no further response the Doctor stood to one side. "Well then Captain, let's get that shoulder out of your uniform and see what we can do, shall we?"
As she sat on the edge of the biobed and started removing her top, he activated the privacy screen. At his instruction the holographic screen shimmered into life.
Picking up a dermal regenerator from the med-tray he examined her wound closely. "Hmm. He has quite excellent canines-"
"Doctor."
Her tone of voice was enough of a threat. Activating the regenerator he began cleaning out the wound before closing it together. "Captain, may I ask you a question?"
"Yes." She shifted a little as her skin itched under his ministrations.
"Have you told Commander Chakotay about the pregnancy?"
"Yes."
He continued working intently. "And in response he bit you?"
Kathryn smirked, resisting the urge to rotate her shoulder. "Depends on your perspective, Doctor. Although he wasn't happy about my decision."
"Then you still intend to go through with the abortion."
There was no anger or emotion in his voice. Any personal feelings he may have been experiencing were irrelevant: it was simply a matter of biology. Until the group of cells growing inside her reached a certain stage of development it was medically legal to perform the termination. He may have a responsibility for the sanctity of life, but technically and biologically it wasn't life yet. It was programmed into him, and not for the first time Kathryn was glad for this 'black and white' mentality.
Clicking off the medical instrument he indicated for her to put her top back on. "I see. When would you like to schedule the operation for?"
She mulled over an answer, shrugging into her top. "I have meetings all day tomorrow..."
"And I have several crewmembers coming in for their medicals the day after. Three days then?"
Kathryn nodded and deactivated the privacy screen. "Thank you for your help Doctor. I feel better already."
He had already turned his attention to his work on a console. "Just try not to break any skin next time."
Now where was the fun in that?
*
After a stop at her quarters for a quick sonic shower, Kathryn eventually decided to beam to her ready room. There was some...humour...in the idea of just walking onto the bridge and leaving the crew to figure out how she had gone into her ready room some while ago and suddenly emerged from her turbolift. As she dematerialised Kathryn made a mental note to remind Chakotay that he'd have to do the same.
Heading towards her desk, Kathryn hesitated and touched a hand to the skin on her face. Of course. The sonic shower had only accentuated the flush her skin always gained after she had sex. If the crew saw...although half of them probably suspected anyway - she was sure B'Elanna and Tom knew. Still...there wasn't a great deal she could do about it, but perhaps some water sprinkled on her face would at least reduce the redness slightly...or at least cool her down.
Redirecting her feet she arrived at the doorway to the bathroom attached to her ready room and pressed the button to open the door.
And found a pair of dark eyes staring at her wildly.
What the hell was he doing here? Surely he wasn't ready again so soon...
His smile seemed to indicate otherwise. He barely moved, resting against one side of the doorway and folding his arms over his chest. He was dressed in his uniform but with no commission bar. He spoke.
"You made a good point earlier."
She matched his pose, a smirk crawling up one side of her mouth. "And what was that?"
"That I'm a murderer. I've murdered a hell of a lot of people in my time."
There was nothing that surprised her. "We do what we have to do."
"I always thought it was important to learn their names and - wherever possible - I did. That way I'd know whose spirit I had taken. Give our child a name, Kathryn." He leant forward, eyes still locked with hers. "Then you can kill it."
Her smirk vanished. "Don't be preposterous. There's no point in giving it a name-"
"Where's the harm? It's just a name...right?"
She wouldn't stand for this. "You can stop playing this game-"
"Gul Durak. That's the name of the first Cardassian I killed." Moving from his casual position he pushed her against the wall. She didn't resist, curious to see where this was headed. She soon found out.
Plucking both their com badges off he pushed his body against hers and reached for their respective waistbands, pulling them down. "Phaser blast to the back of the head. He died instantly."
Kicking away her trousers, she spoke even as she wrapped her legs around him. "I'm not going to name it."
He rocked, rubbing against her. One of them hissed. "Tamak. A slit across the throat. Too much blood."
There were no more preliminaries. She lifted her hips and lowered a hand to guide him in. He did, sliding in quickly before stopping completely, holding still. His forehead creased in concentration.
"I'm not going to name it," she rasped.
He moved. She jerked.
"Dutar," he gasped. "Broken neck."
Her eyes closed and she licked her lips. "Not going to name it." She swore as he moved again.
"Keteth. Knife through the chest." It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate on what he was saying.
"Not going to-oh! Fuck..." Her head tipped back.
He grunted. "Legit Kreck. Destroyed his...ship-"
She cried out.
"-killing all hands. Thirty...two. Thirty two people."
"Not...no name..."
"Mozel. A child. A boy. A...mistake. Phaser blast to the stomach. It took him six hours to die."
"No..."
"Fuck," he whispered, losing any control and thumping against her.
Her stomach tightened, her walls clenching around him as his thrust into her, their exclamations of half-names, swear words and refusals intermingling and lost between exhalations and groans.
Lowering his hands he grabbed onto her rear, pushing her against him.
Almost jumping she rocked against him, head thrown back. "Hol....y....fuck...."
He would have echoed the sentiment if he had been capable of speech. Instead he continued fucking her, vaguely aware that his knees were going weak and he was almost done. A few moments later he spilled into her, shouting loudly and thumping his head somewhere between her shoulder and the wall.
"Shit," he tried to say but all that emerged was a gasp and even as he slid out of her he held her close, continuing some of the partial movement subconsciously.
Head lowered to his neck, she mumbled something. Realising he hadn't heard she managed to lift her head and repeat it. "We should argue about that every time we have sex." She spoke with difficulty, panting for breath.
He didn't want to smile.
But he found himself doing so anyway.
~FINIS