DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2013 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
I Just Had a Feeling
Chapel drummed her fingers on the arm of her seat in the shuttle and waited for it to land on Capedius Eleven. She forced herself not to push past anyone—just because she hadn’t seen Sarek in a month didn’t mean she should be rude to those around her. Just because she hadn’t told him she’d arranged enough leave to spend a couple of nights with him did not mean she had to act like an overeager human teenager.
She was the wife of a Vulcan. Dignity was expected.
She grabbed her carryall from the overhead compartment and followed her seatmate off the shuttle, hailing a local transport to take her to the residence where Sarek and the rest of the Federation delegation were staying.
There were guards at the door. Capedians who clearly didn’t know her from Eve. She held her hand out for their retina scanner, put it up to her eye, and then handed it back.
It didn’t actually say Mrs. Sarek, it said something—in addition to Captain Christine Chapel—that she could barely pronounce and only when she’d had too much wine. Sarek always seemed to find it diverting to hear her try to spit out their last name. Just saying Chapel was so much easier—or the occasional Mrs. Sarek, which someone usually did say, and which would make her share an amused, by Vulcan standards, look with Sarek.
He had not sounded anywhere close to amused on his last comm. In fact, she’d never heard him so frustrated.
He needed her. He didn’t say it, and she didn’t ask: she just knew. She’d made sure Saavik was going to be on Earth so Saalen wouldn’t be left alone, and then she’d hightailed it to this stinkhole planet.
“You are not expected, Ma’am.”
She gave the guard her Bitch of Emergency Ops look, the one that had brought more than one snotty planet administrator to his knees when she’d needed something he didn’t want to give. The look was tempered now by “I’m the wife of the head guy in there, so make it goddamn snappy.”
The guard chose instead to have a stare down. She stared right back. He finally waved her through.
Selida, one of the delegation’s many assistants, looked up from a desk near the entrance and smiled at her. “Captain, does the Ambassador know you’re coming?”
Oh, what a loaded question. Chapel managed to hide any trace of a smirk. “He doesn’t. Wanted to surprise him.”
“He’ll be glad to see you. Well, glad in the Vulcan sense.”
“Which is to say slightly less stone faced?” Chapel gave the woman the easy out of those who didn’t live with Vulcans. Vulcans had expressions; they were just subtle. “Which room is his? I’m in desperate need of a shower.”
“Come on, I’ll show you.” Selida sighed, and it seemed like a happy sound. “Things have not been going well.”
“So I gathered from his comms.”
“More stubborn people than those on this system, I’ve never seen. And they fight over the pickiest details. Stupid stuff, really.”
“I believe you. This is why I like emergencies. Usually no one has time to make life miserable with picky ass shit.”
Selida laughed. “I sort of can’t see you sitting very long in a negotiation.”
“Sitting on my hands is not my forte.” She smiled when Selida opened the door to Sarek’s room. “Thank you. Don’t tell him.”
“I won’t. He deserves something nice tonight.” The woman’s smile was a little more wicked than Chapel expected. “Have a good evening. He should be back soon. The Capedians have a rule they can’t hold discussions once the sun goes down. Probably just as well, otherwise no one would ever shut up.”
She backed away and let the door shut behind Chapel. The room had a nice big bed—fortunate, since Chapel didn’t relish ravishing her husband in a bed they were in danger of falling out of. She hung up her carryall, grabbed her toiletries bag and a robe from it, and went into the bathroom.
The shower felt great on muscles tired from sitting too long in seats that had started out comfortable but quickly turned anything but. She let the water run very hot, then got out and toweled off. Letting her hair dry on its own, she put a little makeup on and went out to wait for Sarek.
In the warm, cushy robe, tucked into a huge and very comfortable armchair, she soon dozed off.
She woke to a warm hand softly brushing her cheek. Smiling without opening her eyes, she said, “That better be my husband doing that.”
She opened her eyes and put her hand over his, pushing it into her cheek. “Hi.”
He drew her up, untied her robe, pushing it off her, and pulled her to the bed.
“No hello back?” She laughed gently as he pushed her down to the bed, as he followed her down, fully clothed, and began to kiss his way down her body. “I’m going to let go of the fact that you have not kissed me yet, since I like the direction you’re heading.”
He reached up and found her hand, squeezed gently, and she gave herself over to his mouth and other hand, soon bucking beneath his attentions. He sat up, managed to make shucking his robe and underwear a graceful maneuver, and lay down next to her. “Hello.”
She kissed him, still feeling a bit boneless after his attentions as she pulled him onto and into her. “Oh, God, I’ve missed this.”
His eyes were closed as he breathed out, his sighs telling her he’d missed it, too. Greatly. He found her mouth, his lips gentle on hers, countering what he was doing down lower, how fiercely he was taking her.
“I see why you warmed me up first. Frustrated, Grandpa?”
A broken puff of air came from him and she realized he’d laughed. “That name...” His thrusting became a little harder and she grinned.
“That name works wonders.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and murmured, “Let go, Sarek.”
And he did. She held on and rode out his passion—and his frustration, she thought—and held him as he lay collapsed on her. He’d let go more than usual.
She stroked his hair and kissed his cheek. “Tired of being in control?”
“Yesssss.” The sound was a capitulation. Something he’d only admit to her.
She loved that. She hugged him tightly to her and kissed him the way he liked as she ground against him lightly.
“More?” he asked, as he nuzzled her neck. “I did not hurt you, did I?”
“You never hurt me. And do you think I’d be trying to interest my friend down there if I was hurting?”
“Logical.” He rolled so she was astride him and stared up at her, as if he’d forgotten what she looked like—or thought he’d never see her again. “I have missed you.”
She began to move slowly, the way that almost always worked to get him back quickly. “You didn’t sound right during our last conversation.” She touched his cheek, then ran her hands down his arms until she captured his hands, and brought them up to play with her chest. “You sounded like you could use a chance to blow off some steam.”
He nodded and slid his hands down to her hips, helping her find a rhythm that worked well for both of them. Worked really well. Really goddamned well.
Once she could see again, she eased off him and cuddled against his side.
He pulled her closer. “I have been frustrated with the negotiations because I wanted you.”
“I’m a distraction.”
“Amanda was usually with you when you worked. I’m not.”
“I do not normally mind. But this time, it has been a hardship to be separated from you.” He studied her. “You knew that?”
She nodded. “I can’t be with you all the time. But I can sneak away and make things better for a while. I can surprise you.”
“Ordinarily I am not a proponent of surprises.”
“But this time?”
He exhaled, and she thought he was letting go of more than just breath. “This time, I find myself quite pleased.”
“That’s because you love me.” She smiled as he kissed her.
“It is true that I do.” He took a deep breath. “There is also the possibility that the Pon Farr is approaching.”
She ran her finger across the tip of his ear. “We’ll deal with it. We’ll be fine. I’m not afraid of it.”
“So brave.” He pulled her in to kiss him. “I will never hurt you. Even when the burning comes. The stronger the emotional bond between partners the easier the fire is to control.” He touched his fingers down on her psi points but didn’t initiate a meld. “You knew. Without any bond between us. You knew.”
“I am trained to spot emergencies.”
He nodded. “I had not considered that.”
“And I just had a feeling. I know you.”
“Yes, you do.” He closed his eyes. “I am tired. I have not slept for days.”
“Then sleep. I don’t have to leave till the day after tomorrow.”
He didn’t argue about wasting their time with sleep. He didn’t apologize for being tired. He just turned, buried his face in her shoulder, and let her hold him while he fell asleep in her arms.
Such a wonderful thing: trust.
And she knew that it wouldn’t be long before she’d have a bad day at Ops and he’d hold her as she didn’t cry but ached inside for whatever had been lost that might have been saved if she’d just been smarter or faster. He would send her to sleep with murmured words in Vulcan that made her feel safe and warm and that the next day would be better.
Another wonderful thing: hope.
“I love you so,” she said to him, and drifted off imagining how much better his day would be tomorrow.
He woke her before the sun was up, making love to her until it was time to go.
For him to go. She could go back to sleep for a while before finding some food. She was starving, but she closed her eyes, pulled his pillow to her, and fell back to sleep, surrounded by the scent of him.