I have participated in the Thanksgiving Drabble collection that I rb'd a post about! I'm scheduling this to be posted on December 5th when the works in that collection will no longer be anonymous. Solok decided (logically) that it was his turn. Enjoy!
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
Solok (DS9) x Reader
[A/N: This is 100 words of pure smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: Interspecies sex, Human/Vulcan sex, risk of being caught, established relationship, mentions of a mating bond, implied telepathic bond, sex in a closet.
~*~
While he hoped to make a good impression at his first shared holiday with his mate and her family, Solok could not control his hunger when her thoughts swirled so sensually through their bond. Sneaking into the cloakroom, the pair pulled aside only enough clothing to serve their needs.
The balance between silence and speed was essential, so he kept one hand clamped over her mouth even as the other slipped beneath her lace panties to rub her clit. The Captain typically preferred to take her in their bed, but this clandestine affair was too tantalizing for him to resist.
ayyy can you tell us some more about artistic s'talon?
What kind of media does he prefer? What style does he like to draw and what motives? does he enjoy protraits or landscapes, realism or abstract etc. or a bit of anything? Does he have a secret room that is PILED with paintings on canvases? Does he enjoy bright and happy colours or is he rather the romulan Beksiński? Does he have any rituals when he gets down to do his art? like locking himself up in a room with a bottle of romulan vintage, playing some music and gets lost in the process? what inspires him? (I have a feeling it's beautiful woman...) :D so many questions!
thank u for infecting us with the s'talon brain rot! 🧟
Hello friend!
I cannot tell you how pleased I am that the S'Talon brain rot is spreading. mruahahhaha.... my master plan is working!! *rubbing hands together*
So the whole idea of him preferring charcoal comes from @deepspacedukat. Their brilliant mind came up with that scenario and it is now permanently stuck in my brain. Why? Because I used to use charcoal and loooooved it. It is so sexy with the smudging and the care it takes to get it right just....argh! I can see him loving it and in my head it is his preferred method.
I can see him having a studio at home that is a bit darker, wooden floors, very sensual. When he is not working, he retreats there after being inspired (and yep! You are so right, women often inspire him...). I see him shirtless *groans*, utterly lost in his art as he tries to capture the woman who caught his eye. Again, this is 100% @deepspacedukat 's brain rot and I thank them for it!
On a table off to the side, I see stacks of canvases, stacks of papers, and a mess of artistic supplies. Paints, charcoal sticks, pencils, etc...
He loves to experiment with anything when the mood strikes. I also see him doing full wall-sized almost expressionism or modern paintings, just letting his emotions out on through broad strokes on the wall, sometimes tenderly and sometimes just to get his anger or frustration out.
For rituals, he would love to have a glass of wine or ale, to sip, and as you said, he is so consumed with his art that he could open a bottle and then not touch it after the first sip, getting so lost in his art.
I also see him having a secret cabin in the woods where he can go to find peace. Somewhere off the beaten path, where he can be alone and paint/draw/be himself. As gregarious as he is, when he is painting, drawing etc...he becomes completely focused, lost in what he is doing. I think at some point he has also tried sculpture as well though he isn't as far along with that as with painting and drawing.
He has "artist hands" and I see them smudged with charcoal at the end of the evening. The sun might even be up and he goes to his balcony at the front of his cabin and watches the sun rise through the trees, sipping tea and preparing for the next day. Maybe he rests a bit, but as soon as he is up, he is back to his art.
For colors, he loves them all. It all depends on his mood :) But when he sees a beautiful woman his first instinct is to smudge out her features in charcoal. He longs for a deeper connection with someone and although he never lacks for company *ahem*, he hasn't found "the one" yet....
Thank you so much @wafflingchemist for this ask! OMG. You have no idea how much I love thinking about this man. He has totally come to life in my brain and I am so happy to spread the brain rot!
Y'know, at first I was worried that this would turn out to be a filler chapter, but it turned out to be something else entirely thanks to a plot bunny that halfway ties together two ideas I had. This fic will probably end up being around fifteen chapters, so strap idn for a long journey, and enjoy, friends! I know I haven't updated in ages, but life is busy and writer's block is a bitch.
Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 here. Part 5 here.
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
Praetor Hiren (ST:Nemesis) x Reader; Senator Letant (ST:DS9) x Reader
After months of sand swirling around my head, getting in my hair, and nearly blinding me, the cool, climate-controlled environment of Deep Space Nine felt like the height of luxury. The Vulcan heat, I'd discovered, was quite possibly the most stifling climate I'd ever experienced - even Andoria's frigid icy surface was more enjoyable.
When I'd arrived on the former Cardassian station, I'd lowered the temperature in my quarters and practically lived in my bed the first day. It was lazy, it was selfish, but oh stars it felt incredible to not be on the verge of melting for once.
All in all, Vulcan hadn't been completely unpleasant, but the heat was one thing I could definitely do without. Despite feeling as though I was roasting alive every time I walked outside, my spirits during my stay there had been kept rather high by my correspondence with both Letant and Hiren. The letters I received from them were the highlights of my days.
Each had such a unique voice when putting pen to paper - or, I should say stylus to PADD - that I could tell by the very first line which of the two had written it before I glanced down at the signature. Letant was his usual jovial, jaunty self. We'd corresponded semi-regularly prior to this last trip to Vulcan, but his letters were now an almost daily part of my routine.
He spoke, for the most part, as if nothing had changed between us, but he'd stray into romantic territory near the end of each missive. Judging by his tone and how sentimental he waxed, I could discern his mood. If it had been a long, hard day, he veered further into introspective territory.
'I can't help but wonder,' he wrote in one particular message, 'whether I've been selfish in regards to our relationship. A Romulan Senator has no shortage of enemies, as has been demonstrated to me recently, and I must ask you to be honest with me in your next response. Are you absolutely certain that you know what you're getting into?'
I'd responded to him that whatever hurdles appeared before us, we'd conquer them together. Navigating life together - the good, the bad, and everything in between - was, after all, what relationships were all about. He'd comforted me countless times over the course of our friendship, so why shouldn't I do the same for him now that we were romantically involved?
Letant certainly had no objections to my emotional support, becoming ever more amorous in his subsequent correspondence.
And the Praetor's letters...
Oh, Hiren gave me something utterly priceless: a glimpse into his soul. Quoting romantic poetry from all corners of the galaxy, he made me feel as though he...well, adored me. Letant's letters were extremely intimate and romantic, of course, but this side of Hiren was unexpected. I wasn't surprised that he could be that way with a lover, but I never quite anticipated being on the receiving end of such desire.
A small part of me still expected an abrupt shift from acceptance of my Humanity to outright rejection. Maybe that expectation was just my past experience with intolerance rearing its ugly head, but something taut and nervous fluttered through my chest every time I read one of the Praetor's missives. I already felt so much for him. The thought that he might end up thinking no more of me than some of the others I'd met felt like a vice around my lungs. I hadn't yet confided that to Letant, but I knew it would be wise to do so once he arrived on the station.
He'd know precisely what I was feeling, especially if he made use of that telepathy he'd demonstrated to glance into my thoughts. In fact, that might be easier than trying to express what I felt verbally.
They seemingly had no trouble doing so - a fact that never ceased to surprise me, despite the heavy encryption that protected their words.
Something else their letters shared was the presence of oddly capitalized letters. Both could speak Federation standard, but given how random the capitalized letters were, it seemed as thought they'd begun dictating their letters in Romulan using a translation matrix that wasn't quite calibrated correctly, then switched over to Federation standard dictation halfway through. It was odd. Every letter but one contained these odd linguistic characters; Hiren's most recent correspondence was the only one completely free of typos.
For such exacting men, this struck me as odd, but then again, they were both extremely busy. They could simply have not noticed, especially if their wrote their letters at the end of the day before bed. They did have exhausting jobs, and more than once, Letant had alluded to giving himself a...'relaxing massage' while composing a message to me.
I couldn't help but wonder whether Hiren had ever done the same. I reprimanded myself as soon as the thought crossed my mind. He was the Praetor of the Romulan Empire. I really shouldn't have tried to read more into his words than was intended.
But then, that day in the garden still nudged at the back of my mind, reminding me of how deep and sensual Hiren's voice dropped when he was aroused, and I was gone. There was no dragging my thoughts back from the abyss of dirty imagery it had conjured. Maybe it was all that time spent with the Vulcans and their own mental restraint, but I longed for some of my lovers' expressiveness. Their wit and sarcasm, their gentle smiles and gleeful smirks...my heart ached to be with them again.
A week after I'd arrived on Deep Space Nine, I was rereading Hiren's latest message when it struck me:
It was too late for me to guard my heart. For better or worse, he and Letant already held it in their grasp. I was head over heels for the Senator, and I could tell that the same fate awaited me in regards to Hiren.
Could this really work? Could I really be a lover to two high-class, influential Romulans?
Odo opened a comm channel just as I once again skimmed the poetry excerpt from Hiren's last letter. I was still reeling with shock from the realization of how far I'd already fallen.
"Ambassador, I'm sorry to bother you, but there's someone in security who claims that you're expecting him."
How odd.
"Acknowledged. On my way," I answered as I got to my feet. Reluctantly, I put the PADD containing Hiren's letters back into my luggage with the rest and locked it before starting toward the Promenade.
The entire way there, I was stuck in my own thoughts. Was this a risk I was willing to take? Were Hiren and Letant really willing to accept a mate who was so incredibly different? Did they understand just how much we had to learn about each other?
For that matter, did I?
A pair of doors hissed open in front of me, and I realized I'd reached the security office while I was overanalyzing my situation.
"I know you've been here before, sir, but we all have to take precautions. your government's delegation was altered at the last minute. Ah, there you are, Ambassador," the Constable said, and I blinked, taking in the group of people in the office. There were three Romulans. Two wore military uniforms, and when the third turned around, I froze.
"Speechless already? Oh dear, that doesn't bode well for the conference in a few days, does it?" Letant's usual shit-eating grin awoke the hoard of butterflies hiding in my stomach. He was here early! I hadn't been expecting him for another three days at the very least! "Really, Constable, if you recognize me, surely you don't need confirmation of my identity?"
Odo harumphed as if the Senator's question was the height of stupidity.
"It's not your identity I'm concerned with, it's your behavior," he stated bluntly before turning his attention to me. "I wouldn't normally do this, but the last I heard, the two of you were close friends. Can you vouch for him?"
Mischief bubbled swiftly up from within me as I turned to my mate with a serious expression.
"Hm, I don't know. He can be quite the troublemaker. Drinking too much ale...flirting with the Dabo girls...picking fights with Klingon officers..." I trailed off and took two slow steps toward him as my eyes drank him in from head to toe and back again. "Do you promise to be a good boy for me, Senator?"
Letant's eyes darkened with hunger, and his grin transformed from a light, easy, roguish smile to a smirk that promised I'd regret teasing him in front of his officers.
"For you, Ambassador, yes. I do," he murmured, and I turned to the Constable.
"Yes, Odo, I'll vouch for him."
The Security Chief started tapping away at his console.
"Very well. Senator, as you've arrived early, I'm afraid the quarters we were going to have prepared for you are not yet empty–"
"There is no need for a separate set of quarters. I'll be staying with the Ambassador," Letant said, and before Odo could protest, the Senator guided me out with a large, warm hand placed firmly on my back. His guards took up protective positions behind us as we walked, effectively multiplying the amount of people staring at us. "My, separation has made you quite bold indeed, e'lev. Did your stay on Vulcan truly bore you so severely that you would challenge a Romulan Senator in public?"
"Oh please, you dramatic man, there was no challenge. I was teasing you, and you damn well know it."
Letant let out a quiet laugh as his eyebrows rose.
"You don't call publicly asking if I'm going to be a 'good boy' a challenge of my authority?" I started to reply, but he cut me off. "Or were you, perhaps, trying to coax a particular reaction from me, hm?"
The abrupt closure of my mouth told him all that he needed to know.
"Ah, I see. I knew arriving early was a prudent plan. You've been alone for far too long," he murmured as we got into the turbolift. Heedless of his guards' gazes, Letant turned me to face him and backed me up against one of the lift walls. Grasping my waist with one hand and my jaw with the other, my Senator spoke in a raspy whisper. "Congratulations, e'lev. You were entirely successful."
His lips met mine for a moment, tantalizingly rough and sweet at the same time, before pulling back and leaving me dazed as the turbolift continued on its path. From what I'd been told, such displays in front of others, including personal guards, were usually avoided like the plague.
I must've teased him more than I realized after our time apart.
When we reached the doors to my quarters, we were both short of patience. I was stunned that we made it all the way inside before Letant had me up against a wall. And just like that, the fullness of the three months that we'd been separated forced our composure to take a backseat. We became a mess of grasping hands and searing kisses, fumbling our way toward the bedroom.
"Three months is too long to be away from you," he breathed as the sound of tearing fabric heralded the death of yet another uniform top.
--
Sated and lounging in bed that evening, I'd relaxed into an almost trance-like state atop my lover's chest. The hypnotic sensation of Letant's fingertips skimming up and down the length of my back coupled with the rhythmic steadiness of his breathing comforted me in a way that I'd severely missed since I set out for my trip to Vulcan.
"He'll be here tomorrow," he said just above a whisper.
"Hm? Who?" I dragged myself back to full consciousness and looked up at Letant.
"Hiren, of course. He's talked of little else since your departure from Romulus," he murmured brushing his lips against my forehead. "I would ask if he's been writing to you if not for the fact that he practically glowed every time you responded to him."
"How could I not? The Praetor is a charming man with a romantic streak. His knowledge of love poetry is rather extensive - or, at least, I assume that it is, given the vast selection of excerpts that he's been sending me." Tracing my fingers along the column of Letant's throat, I couldn't help but smile at the thought that I'd gotten incredibly lucky.
"How did you like his latest prose, if I may ask?"
"That was my favorite set of lines yet! Oh, that reminds me, he forgot to include the poet's name. I'll have to ask him about that when he gets here. Unless you know, of course?"
With a rumbling laugh, Letant gripped my hips and slipped one of his legs between mine.
"Now, now, have patience, e'lev. I promise you'll have your answers, but not from me. The name was left off deliberately, and Hiren swore me to secrecy. Friend though he might be, I dare not disobey my Praetor. You should have seen him when he was preparing for this trip, though. He must've pulled every set of robes from his bot-unsubstantial wardrobe to ask my opinion on whether you'd find them attractive."
"No," I scoffed in disbelief, but Letant was entirely serious.
"Yes, my girl. It's ridiculous. The man has been married before. He certainly knows how to flirt and has plenty of experience in seduction. There's no reason for him to be this nervous - he's had his head between your pretty legs, for goodness sake - yet he's behaving as if he's not even had his first encounter."
"Bullshit. Hiren would never go to pieces over someone like me. You're exaggerating."
"I most certainly am not. You have reduced the Praetor of the entire Romulan Empire to no more than an anxious suitor. He lured me to the palace, plied me with kali-fal, then proceeded to try on everything he owned in front of a mirror to ask for my opinion. You should've seen him. He struck poses, e'lev," Letant said flexing his biceps as someone might in front of a mirror, and I dissolved in a fit of giggles at the mental image he conjured. "I have told you many times that you are a remarkable woman. Perhaps you'll realize that I spoke the truth before you give the poor man a coronary."
"But surely...? I mean, he must realize that I'm not superficial enough to judge him for his outfit. He'd look good in anything, just like you."
With a mere flick of his hands, Letant maneuvered me atop him so that I was straddling his hips. I braced my hands on his chest, taking in the sight of the beautiful man beneath me. his normally pristinely-groomed black hair was tousled from our exertions, and the smirk stretching his lips brought to mind smug gods from ancient mythology. In such a comparison, I was more than content to be the unwitting mortal who'd fallen so willingly into his bed.
"You think I'd look good in anything?" He asked as a faux innocent expression made its home on his face.
"Now you're just fishing for compliments–"
"Of course I am. You love me. Who better for me to ask than you, my lovely mate?" His hands slid up my sides and caressed the swell of my breasts. "Tell me, what is it like to be in bed with someone so devilishly handsome?"
Scoffing playfully, I started to move off of him, but Letant's renewed grip on my hips kept me firmly in place as he sat up beneath me. With his lips a mere hair's breadth away, I stubbornly kept my hands to myself and my mouth shut.
"Now, now...no need for petulance," the Senator breathed. It was so obscenely easy for him to get what he wanted from me. His arms wound around my torso, holding me close as he spoke. "Just because your partner is almost equal to you in beauty doesn't mean you need to pout."
How was it he always managed to compliment both himself and me in one breath?
"You don't play fair." I just barely managed to hold back a grin, fixing him with a glare instead. Letant laughed, his warm breath ghosting over my skin.
"No, but you've known that for quite some time. Besides..." he said laying kisses slowly down the length of my jaw, "you know I'm right."
The Senator's hands slid farther down my back.
"Now, about that little challenge earlier..."
--
Hiren found the T'Met's commanding officer in his Ready Room, skimming through reports with a look of deep concentration etching his face seemingly in stone. The Riov glanced up as the Praetor entered, and he smiled that same charming smile he'd worn for years.
"Well, well, I was wondering when you'd come see me, old friend. Please, have a seat," S'Talon said shutting off his console and leaning back in his own chair. "I've heard a little rumor, lhhai, concerning you, Letant, and a certain Federation Ambassador. Is that why I've been honored with the task of transporting you to this conference, my Lord Praetor?"
"You know such formalities aren't necessary, Tal," Hiren said as he sank down into one of the plush chairs. "As for the rumors...I don't know what you've heard, so it's a bit difficult to give you an honest answer."
The Riov smirked and tapped the top of his desk in an absentminded sort of way.
"I've heard that you and Letant intend to make a proper triad with her...that the two of you love her."
Hiren lifted his chin. He wasn't sure how the Riov knew that, but he was not ashamed of how he felt or who he felt it for.
"Yes. She and Letant were together to begin with, and I am fortunate enough to be a candidate for the position of their third. I won't be so rude as to presume to speak for her, but for my part, I do love her, yes."
S'Talon practically beamed at him.
"I have no doubt she adores you. I remember how smitten you were with T'Shara. I see just as much light in your eyes...just as much pride as there was when you spoke of her." The Romulan Captain stood and walked around his desk. "She must truly be a marvel to have caught your attention so fully. I look forward to meeting her when we arrive at the station."
"Don't go getting any ideas. I know how charming you can be toward women you find exceptional," Hiren chastised playfully, but S'Talon placed a solemn hand over his heart.
"I am fond of the fairer sex, but you know I would never abscond with a friend's lover. She's yours, you are hers, and I would never dream of coming between you. I'll be on my best behavior, I swear it," the Riov vowed. "I would, however, like to befriend her, if you're comfortable with that."
"I do not choose my lover's companions for her. If she wishes to count you among her friends, I would never stand in your way."
A moment's comfortable silenced passed between the two, and as he leaned back against the desk, S'Talon smiled.
"Have you imagined it? What you'll do once you marry her, I mean?"
"She might not have me–"
"Oh, she'll have you, old friend, I'm certain of it. Now, tell me," the Riov continued, "where have your daydreams taken you when you think of her? You will undoubtedly be the most powerful triad in the entirety of the Empire, but have you given any thought to where you'll live? Your family estate is quite large, as is Letant's, but the Praetor's Palace would obviously have enough space, should you choose to reside there..."
Hiren couldn't help but laugh at his friend's enthusiasm, allowing his infectious joy to flow through him.
"You give me far too much credit, Tal. She's Human. She may not...well, it might be that she is not made for a triad. Who knows? I might make some monumental mistake that costs me her love, or I might simply be too old once she stops to consider the age difference." Hiren gave voice to the fears that had rolled around in his head since her departure from their home planet. He'd told Letant his concerns and had received reassurance in return, but Hiren wanted S'Talon's counsel, as well.
"I cannot pretend to know her mind," the Riov began, "but I do know yours. You are an excellent judge of character. You would not have chosen someone so fickle. I would wager my best bottle of kali-fal that your fears - while completely valid and normal - lack real foundation. She will have you, my dear old friend, and she will not let you go once she does."
Hiren nodded his head, rolling his shoulders as if to banish some of his tension from his frame.
"Would you do me a small favor once we reach the station?" The Praetor has no doubt that he was about to sound even more ridiculous, but he was beyond caring. "Would you...sketch her for me? I'd be happy to pay you. Nothing too elaborate, and she doesn't have to know, it's just..."
He trailed off, unable to think how best to describe his emotions, but Tal just smiled.
"Of course. It would be my honor." The Riov murmured, but he frowned a little. "You know I'd never charge you for that. I would, however, like to know how you met her."
A smile stretched the Praetor's lips as he thought back to that night.
--
Letant lay in bed that night content to hold his mate close as his thoughts whirled in his head behind a carefully constructed barrier. He didn't want them bleeding across the telepathic bridge between his mind and his lover's. She deserved sleep that wasn't interrupted by his guilt.
Was he doing the right thing keeping this from her? But surely, if it was to keep her safe, she'd understand.
Elements, if this involved anyone but her, he'd have no trouble justifying his actions. He'd been a great strategist - he still was - so why was this causing him so much discomfort? He knew that the pain she'd feel would be temporary...that it would all be resolved in a matter of days once it began and that the three of them would live quite happily afterwards, but...
Damn him, the thought of causing her even a moment's pain made him want to wake her, drop to his knees, and plead for her forgiveness. He wanted to tell her everything, but he knew that doing so would endanger her life.
That he could not abide. Her life was much more valuable to him than his comfort, and though she may rage at him later, he was reasonably certain that they could work through any problems together.
She stretched in his arms and nuzzled even farther into Letant's embrace. Precious girl. She murmured something nonsensical in her sleep, and the Senator held her just a bit tighter as he kissed her forehead.
Allowing his mind to brush against hers, he watched her dreams like a holo-vid until he finally dropped into a mostly-peaceful sleep in her arms.
This is just a little plot bunny that hopped into my brain. Literally no idea why, it just happened. So...enjoy! 😇
If anyone wants to be added to or removed from my taglist, let me know!
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
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Vorik (ST:VOY) x Reader
[A/N: This is fluff with mild suggestiveness and a brief mention of a previous instance of Pon Farr.]
Warnings: Interspecies romance, Human/Vulcan romance, mild fear, idiots in love, both think their feelings are unrequited, mutual pining, angst, brief mention of past Pon Farr, spoilers for ST:VOY S3E16 "Blood Fever", mild spoilers for ST:VOY S4E1 "Scorpion Pt. 2", the beginning would make more sense if you watch S4E1 first but it's not entirely necessary, and I assume that you've seen "Blood Fever" if you're reading Vorik fanfics, so...🤷♀️, kissing, Vulcan hand-holding, touch telepathy, idk what else to put here because it's really just fluff.
~*~
The tension on the ship was already palpable when the chaos started. Everyone was on edge because of our uneasy alliance with a Borg cube, wondering how long it would be before they turned on us and tried to assimilate Voyager. The fact that Species 8472 had turned out to be hostile as well did nothing to alleviate the crew's stress.
With enemies in front of and behind us, all we could do was try to prepare to the best of our ability. I just hoped it would be enough. Vorik had been silent on our way to Engineering for the start of our shift. The silence itself wasn't troubling - Vorik was often contemplative early in the day - but the small frown just barely pinching his brows together...that was worrying.
Inquiring about his well-being had earned me no more than a noncommittal, murmured deflection. All I could think to do was give him a gentle smile and rest one hand briefly on his shoulder. Shockingly, that seemed to help. His forehead relaxed, smoothing out into his usual, calm, neutral expression.
For the next few hours, I noted that whenever I glanced over at his station, the Ensign seemed to have retained whatever sense of ease he'd regained in the corridor that morning.
Soon, however, all thoughts outside of my duties were wiped away. Red alerts began blaring, and it was all hands on deck as we struggled to regain control of Voyager from the Borg.
I'd just begun to cross the second level to access a different terminal when the ship gave an almighty jolt. Before I could brace myself, I was thrown toward the warp core. The low railing struck my back, and I let out a yelp of pain and fear as I began to tumble over the side.
Instead of finding myself flattened or shattered by the fall, however, a vice-like grip on my arm stopped my momentum and tugged me against a sturdy, warm chest. I grabbed at the shoulders of my savior, trembling with residual shock. Only after the ship steadied itself did I manage to catch my breath and glance upward.
Looking down at me with a protectiveness that I had never before witnessed from him, Vorik's shining brown eyes met mine.
"Thank you," I managed to squeak out, but speaking seemed as difficult for him as I'd found it to be. Instead, he nodded his head once and pressed our foreheads carefully together. Vorik knew I was terrified of heights.
After a moment, though, we were forced to pull away from each other and go tend to our duties. Short-lived comfort was all we could manage at times like that. Being stuck in fluidic space after we'd been forced there by the last surviving Borg onboard Voyager was definitely not the right moment to become distracted by our personal tension, even if it had been growing for years.
I knew nothing would ever truly happen between us, though. If he'd seen me as a viable partner, Vorik would've approached me when his pon farr happened the year before. Instead he'd gone for B'Elanna Torres, and I'd forced myself to stay away from him.
I'd requested a transfer to the night shift so that I wouldn't be on duty at the same time as him, and the few moments where our schedules overlapped, I tried to find reasons to be busy in other places.
Yes, his interest in someone else had stung, so I decided that until my own stupid feelings cooled down a bit, I'd keep my distance. Mostly, I just didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him. After all, that Vulcan could read me like a book, and at that particular point, I didn't want him to ponder my emotional state too closely. If he hadn't caught on to the fact that I loved him prior to his pon farr, I certainly wasn't going to change that after he'd made his non-interest known.
I hadn't been rude to him in the aftermath, especially since he was being viewed so poorly by so many of the crew for attacking B'Elanna in engineering, but I hadn't gone out of my way to talk to him, either. The whole situation was a mess, and although I didn't want him to feel alone, I definitely wanted to limit the number of opportunities that I had to make an ass of myself.
Eventually, though, it all came to a head one morning when I'd just finished my shift. As I approached the hall where my quarters were, I saw a familiar head of fluffy back hair standing at attention outside my door.
"Vorik?" I called, and he looked quickly in my direction. Standing even straighter - a feat that I hadn't believed possible - the Ensign acted formally, as if he was addressing a superior officer.
"Ensign, forgive me for disturbing you at this hour, but I...had hoped to speak with you in private," he said in that low, gentle voice that I...oh, I'd missed him more than I anticipated! I blinked in surprise, and opened the door to my quarters, answering his question.
"Would you like some tea or water or something? I know you need to go on duty soon, and I have some extra replicator rations...?"
"Thank you, but no," he murmured as we made our way over to my sofa. We'd held many debates and conversations here over the years, but it had been something like two months since we'd been together like this. I took a seat, but when he remained standing, I looked up at him curiously. "May I?"
"Vorik, we've been friends since before we came aboard Voyager. You know you never need to ask permission to sit down." He seemed surprised by my response, which, in turn, surprised me.
"I did not know if..." he stumbled over his words for a moment as he perched awkwardly on the cushion beside me. "After the incident in Engineering, I was uncertain whether you would be...comfortable with my being in close proximity to you."
I was silent for a moment as I processed what he'd said.
"You thought I'd be afraid of you?" My voice came out as barely a whisper, and when he nodded his head, my heart shattered in my chest. He looked so vulnerable, so afraid that I was going to scream at him or throw him out of my quarters.
"It is the logical conclusion. You did request a transfer to a different shift, did you not?"
Of course he'd found out about that. I don't know why I expected that to remain a secret.
"Yes, but it wasn't because I was afraid of you, Vorik." That may not have been the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie. He seemed relieved, but I didn't want him to dig too deeply, so I changed the subject with a smile. "Now, what brings you here before your shift? How can I help you?"
"My main goal was to ascertain whether I'd frightened you. My subsequent objective..." he trailed off with his brow furrowed. "Upon reflection, I do not know whether this is logical, but I wished to determine what would be required to restore our prior level of interaction. I find myself...troubled by your absence, both in Engineering and in our leisure hours."
"You missed me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, and just like that, it was Vorik's turn to look surprised.
"Of course. Did you believe that I would be indifferent or pleased to be without you?" Nodding my head, I watched as my friend cautiously moved closer to me on the sofa and placed his hands on my shoulders. "You lend me much metaphorical strength. I value your counsel...and your friendship."
My self-imposed isolation had ended that night. I spoke with B'Elanna and got transferred back to my original shift, which is why Vorik was there to save me when I nearly fell over the railing. If it hadn't been for him, I'd likely be lying in a crumpled heap on the lower deck by now. We'd rekindled our friendship after that lapse, but I knew it would never become anything more.
Regardless, Vorik had saved my life, and I resolved that once we were out of danger, I'd show him how grateful I was.
--
One minor war later, Vorik and I exited Engineering with the rest of our shift, and without a single moment's discussion, I found myself being led by a firm hand grasping my elbow.
"Vorik? Where are we going?"
"Patience." Was it my imagination, or was his voice rougher than usual? He sent the turbolift up before anyone else could board it, and the ride was filled with an undefinable sort of silence.
His grip slipped down from my elbow to my hand, and tingles erupted across my palm. He'd never touched my bare skin before. Vulcans were averse to such contact, and I'd always done my best to respect that boundary.
But he'd been the one to initiate this, not me. As the lift hummed along, Vorik's gaze slipped upward until our eyes met. A mere blink later, his eyes were hooded and hunger flooded his demeanor. Stepping closer to me with our hands still joined, the Ensign backed me up against the wall of the turbolift releasing a whisper of my name in that beautiful, low, silky voice of his.
The tingling in my spine intensified the longer he looked at me - and oh, did he look at me! His eyes seemed to bore right into my soul, stealing my breath and my thoughts with unerring skill. He'd looked at me before, but never the way I wanted him to...never like this.
That frightened me. Oh, the look itself wasn't disquieting, but the possibility that this could lead to something more – something that might damage my heart more than his preference of B'Elanna over me had a year before? That terrified me.
"I did not," he rasped, and I blinked in confusion. "I believed that you did not harbor the same regard for me that I did for you, and it was out of a desire to avoid needlessly damaging the relationship between us that I selected Lieutenant Torres. I did not wish to lose you. To equate yourself with her is the height of illogic, because none could ever compare with you."
Before I could respond beyond a stunned look, however, we arrived at the deck we'd been hurtling toward. The door hissed open, and he began tugging me through the corridors again. We passed through the door to Vorik's quarters, and everything clicked into place. He'd always preferred privacy, only allowing into his space those who needed to be there - like the Doctor and Lieutenant Tuvok.
And then there was me.
I'd never understood why he allowed me in when almost nobody else was permitted the same luxury, but suddenly it all made sense. I was allowed to be there when nobody else was because he trusted me enough to be vulnerable with me. He told me more about himself than he did anyone else. He spent more of his free time with me than anyone else. He knew more about me than anyone else did.
And I'd all but abandoned him after the incident with Torres! Guilt coiled hot and bitter in my gut, and I bit my lower lip. How did he not hate me? How could he have simply been content with our renewed friendship? He should've chewed me out or berated me–
My racing thoughts ground to a halt as the softness of his lips met mine.
Oh.
The kiss was gentle and brief, but it was easily the most tender gesture I'd ever received. When he pulled away just far enough to watch me open my eyes, his hands caught both of mine and lifted them to his chest.
"I...Vorik, that...isn't something friends do," I breathed, feeling like an idiot as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
"You are correct. It is not," he said with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "but I had hoped that my attempts to demonstrate my interest were successful enough to convey that I desire you in more ways than a simple friendship will allow."
"Your interest?" I parroted, and he moved close enough that when I spoke, my lips brushed against his. The contact felt as warm as fire, as sweet as honey, and I was a starving. Ravenous for his touch, his affection, I craved him more than I had anything else in my entire life.
"You cannot have missed it. By Vulcan standards, I have been metaphorically throwing myself at you. Lieutenant Tuvok even suggested that I was being too overt." He grasped my waist, tugging me gently against him as his lips met mine again. A fleeting, barely-there peck later, my patience had stretched to the breaking point as I chased his retreating mouth with my own. "Is there something you need, ashayam?"
Blinking up at him, it occurred to me that he was doing this deliberately.
Vorik was teasing me.
And he looked almost proud of the reaction he'd drawn from me. Beautiful bastard.
"You," I whispered before I could talk myself into being more cautious. "All I need is you."
"Then you shall have me," Vorik promised as he lifted me into his arms and carried me toward his bed.
Thank you so much to everyone who gave the first part of this fic a chance! There will be 4 parts overall, so we're halfway there! Without any further ado, I present Part Two!
Part 1 here.
Cross-posted here.
~*~
Lawrence Baker (MSW) x Reader
[A/N: There will be smut/smut adjacent content in future parts, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: Flirting, they're attracted to each other and not hiding it at all, kissing, a discussed age gap but it's not specific, I can't think of anything else? Protective Seth, maybe?
~*~
I knocked confidently when I reached the Borbey House Sunday night. The ever-stoic face that had been my unfortunate re-introduction to the estate greeted me when it opened.
"Good evening, sir. I believe Mr. Baker is expecting me," I said giving Peter a warm smile, despite his aloof demeanor.
The square jaw and sharp, steely eyes belonging to Mr. Baker's butler weren't quite as intimidating as they had been before. After having seen him with a dot of sky blue frosting on the tip of his nose, I couldn't quite bring myself to be afraid of him.
"Of course. Please, come in." Although taken aback by his newly-found cordial attitude, I crossed the threshold with my head held high. The quiet, familiar creaks of the floorboards in the dark entryway felt as though they were a hug from an old friend. Even after all these years, Borbey House still felt more like home than anywhere else. "May I take your coat?"
Surprisingly gentle, glove-covered hands helped me out of my coat, and I followed Mr. Jatich further into the house. Scaffolding and ladders, saws and pieces of wood stored atop sawhorses littered several open spaces in the rooms we passed creating a sort of construction maze. Given the state of the formal dining room when we passed it - furniture shoved to one side and various bits of drywall and flooring exposed for repairs - I gathered that Lawrence and I would be dining elsewhere.
Sure enough, Peter led me into the lounge instead where a small table was set up near the window. In truth, the room was something of a sitting room and library combined into one. The deep burgundy red of the walls coupled with the dark walnut bookshelves made the space a rather moody one, and incidentally, my favorite place in all of Borbey House. It was peaceful there, and I'd spent many hours curled up in one of the armchairs reading one of the ancient tomes that inhabited the shelves.
I couldn't suppress the smile that stretched my lips as I noted that nothing in here had been changed beyond the drapes.
"Mr. Baker will join you in just a moment. Please, feel free to look around, if you like, but I must insist you stay away from the areas under construction. Mr. Baker would be most displeased should a guest be injured under his roof," Peter said, and despite the vaguely ominous sound of his warning, I got the feeling that he didn't harbor any ill intent.
He closed the doors behind him, and I forced myself to walk at a reasonable pace over to the bookshelves. I hadn't really expected many familiar titles to be left, but I was pleased to note that I recognized almost all of the faded, worn spines. Skimming my fingertips lightly along the titles, I walked over to the hearth where a fire crackled away in the grate.
"Hello, old friend," I whispered touching the intricately carved wooden mantle. Judging by its sheen, the varnish had been given a fresh coat recently. At least Mr. Baker had a good eye for beautiful things. If he'd replaced the mantelpiece, I'd have had good reason to question his eyesight despite those red sunglasses of his.
I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I missed the sound of the door opening once more.
"My god," a quiet, husky voice murmured, and I turned to see my host looking at me with something akin to wonder in his eyes. "There's an angel in my library..."
A smile stretched his lips, showing off the lines on either side of his mouth. He was a vision in his crisp suit, perfectly polished shoes, and a deep red tie.
"Good evening, Mr. Baker." Mercifully, my voice didn't betray my nerves over being alone with such an attractive man. As he walked slowly toward the hearth where I stood, the fire's light sparkled and danced in his eyes.
"Please, call me Larry," he said grasping my hand and bringing it to his lips. Instead of releasing me afterwards, though, he stepped a little closer and laid my hand over his chest. Lost in his eyes, I was only brought back to reality by the crackling of wood in the fireplace.
"I see you've already made a few changes - improvements, of course," I said as I glanced around the sitting room.
"Forgive me, but you sound as though you've been here before...?"
"Oh, I have." The look of surprise that flitted across his face tugged a mischievous smile from my lips. "The previous owners were family friends long before they moved away. On school nights when my parents had to work late, I'd come here. I practically grew up in this house. I've read the majority of the books on these shelves, and I know many of this old place's secrets."
Taking a few slow steps toward me, Lawrence lifted my hand in his.
"Well, then perhaps you could share a few of them with a curious fellow student of history?" He kissed my knuckles softly and caught me with an utterly smoldering stare as he moved closer.
"I might be persuaded to give you a few hints, but if you keep looking at me like that, Mr. Baker, I might not be able to focus very well."
"Maybe that was my intention," he murmured, laying one of his hands on my waist. The warmth of his body seeped through our clothing easily when he coaxed me up against him. My heart thudded rapidly in my chest as his gaze dropped to my lips. Was he–?
"Excuse me, sir, but Mr. Weatherly is requesting a conversation about the renovations." Peter's voice snapped us both out of our trance, but Larry didn't let me go. He simply swallowed heavily and tightened his grip on my waist.
"I'm busy."
"I'm sorry, sir, but he said it was urgent." No sooner had Peter stopped talking than Charlie strode past him.
"I know it's late, but I fi–" he broke off when he saw me standing in his client's arms. "Oh, I...don't mean to interrupt, but I..."
Lawrence sighed and turned to face his contractor, but his arm wrapped firmly around my middle, making it clear that this was not the end of our discussion.
"This had better be important, Mr. Weatherly," he said with a tight smile. Admittedly, I shared his thinly-veiled frustration.
Charlie's eyes flicked between us. A lingering question about my presence hung in the air, but I didn't shy away. I had as much right to be here as anyone else.
"I have the figures you asked for, b-but they can wait–"
"Then why did you claim it was urgent?"
"Well, it's just that the specs you gave me seem off, sir. No offense, but I'm going to need to take another set of measurements in all the upstairs rooms to confirm–"
"Then take them. Tomorrow. As you can see, I'm entertaining a guest tonight," Lawrence said giving me his most charming smile. "My dear, this is Charles Weatherly, my contractor..."
With a small smile, I nodded my head.
"Charlie and I have known each other for years. He's like an older brother to me," I murmured, and the man in question agreed.
"You look good, kid. Y'know, Mr. Baker, she doesn't pull out that dress for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky," Charlie said as he laid a file on a table near the couch. "I'll leave the preliminary specs with you, and I'll come back tomorrow around nine to take the new measurements, if that's alright."
"Good. Thank you, Mr. Weatherly," my date said as he turned to face me once more. When we were alone again, he tilted my chin up. "Was he telling the truth about the dress?"
My cheeks began to burn under the heat of his gaze.
"You mean, do I really reserve it for special occasions? Yes."
A Cheshire grin split his lips, and he skimmed his thumb lightly over my chin.
"I can think of no higher honor than for you to consider this evening with me special," he murmured, "especially after your less-than-warm welcome."
"You were charming enough to make up for it," I mused gliding my fingertips along the lapel of his suit jacket. Larry smirked at that.
"Damn, you're dangerous. You really do know how to stroke a man's ego, don't you?" At his inquiry, I leaned in and whispered teasingly into his ear.
"You don't know the half of it." His hands gripped my waist tighter as a groan escaped him.
"Perhaps we ought to change topics before I do something impulsive," he murmured. "You said that you spent a great deal of time here over the years, yes?"
"Absolutely."
"Then perhaps you'll recognize this," Larry said walking over to a small set of drawers and opening the top one. He closed it after pulling out something small. When he turned around, something small and metallic glittered in his palm. I took a closer look and froze.
It was an earring - small red beads secured by golden wire. I had a similar pair, but mine had green beads instead of red.
This was Laurel Perrin's earring. She was wearing it the day she disappeared. She'd been in the Borbey House, but why? And, where was the other one? Had this simply fallen off, or had she removed them and lost one?
"Darling?" My date's voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I realized how long I'd been silent. He looked worried. "Are you alright?"
Forcing myself to smile, I nodded my head.
"Oh, yes! I'm fine. Sorry, it's just...well, I haven't seen this is in so long. I was wondering where it had been." Guilt began to gnaw at me as soon as I opened my mouth. What I'd said was technically only half a lie. The earring had been lost along with Laurel, and I hadn't expected to see it again unless she was found, so...? No, there was no disguising it: this was definitely a lie. I just hoped Larry wouldn't see through it yet. I needed to figure out what this meant, and...well, I really did like him. I didn't want to deceive him, even with innocent intentions, but my experience with Jessica and her mysteries made it crystal clear that sometimes it was necessary in order to discover the truth. "Thank you. I never thought I'd see this again."
That much, at least, was true.
"You're very welcome. I'm honored to have had the chance to return something so pretty to its rightful owner," he said skimming his knuckles lightly down the side of my face. His eyes dropped to my lips, and I wondered if he would kiss me tonight. "You mentioned something about this place holding secrets. I don't suppose I could convince you to show me one of them tonight...?"
With a smirk, I slipped the earring into the small clutch purse I'd brought with me and walked over to the bookcase. Curling a finger at him, I watched with feline satisfaction as Larry came toward me.
"Have you looked through all of these books?" I asked, and he lifted an eyebrow.
"Well, not yet. Some of William Borbey's personal diaries and a few pretty little first editions," he said watching me carefully as I reached up and caressed the spines of a few leatherbound books. "Why?"
"Because, I think this one in particular might interest you," I said pausing with my finger atop the volume and looking at my date. Allowing him to do the honors, I moved my hand, and he pulled the book from its spot. When I lifted my eyebrows encouragingly, he opened the cover to find glued together pages with a slot carved in the center. Inside was a small, pocket-sized book with long-yellowed pages covered in beautiful cursive writing.
"A book within a book?" He mused as he set the larger of the two down to focus on the smaller. "'Amidst the roses, she shines like the moon and all the stars. O, my lovely Sarah, a single day without you is as the ending of the world.' William Borbey wrote this, didn't he?"
Larry looked at me, thoroughly intrigued, and I nodded my head.
"I found that years ago. When I told the Masons - the people who used to live here - they agreed that it should be kept intact with the house," I explained. "When they sold this place, I was worried it might be torn down for some new real estate venture or someone who might not care for the place as well as it deserved. That's terribly sentimental, I know, but with little historical secrets like that dotted around the house..."
I trailed off with a shrug and Larry set the little book atop its container novel before taking my hands in his grasp.
"Well, I certainly hope that I will prove to be a worthy resident." His clear, blue eyes searched mine, and in such close proximity, I felt as though my soul was laid bare for him.
"I think you will be," I murmured, hoping that my voice sounded much steadier than I felt. "Now, tell me, how did you know that was written by William Borbey after just those two short sentences?"
At that he smiled just as deviously as I had earlier.
"He left diaries," Larry stated simply, and I blinked up at him.
"You've read them already? I got the impression that you'd only glanced through them."
"I spent several long days and nights going through each one. I assume you have, as well?"
"From cover to cover!" At my confirmation, my date looked utterly gleeful. In the brief pause before we launched ourselves into a conversation that would ultimately last us until well past midnight, Peter laid our dinner out on the little table by the window and excused himself for the night.
When we finally realized how late it had become, Larry insisted on escorting me across the street personally, arm-in-arm.
"I have thoroughly enjoyed your company this evening, and it could simply be an old man's imagination, but I believe - I hope - that I'm correct when I say that you might have as well," he said as we paused before my front door. Moonlight poured down over us, sparkling in Larry's eyes like jewels.
"Of course I did, and you are hardly an old man." Giving his hands a gentle squeeze, I smiled up at him only to watch his gaze slip to my lips.
"In that case," he began, "would it be too forward if I begged the honor of a kiss?"
My heart raced in my chest. His consideration for my own wishes coupled with my own desire for him had me moving before I could think. Though it was careful and brief, my lips met his beneath the twinkling stars.
When he finally bade me goodnight with a soft smile stretching his lips, I felt as though I could float.
--
I was only able to sleep for a few hours before I needed to be back at the bakery. My shop opened at nine each morning, but Larry and I hadn't parted company until nearly one thirty. The date - and that lovely kiss - had been worth the slight drowsiness in the morning.
After stocking the cases for the day, I finally got a chance to check in with Seth. The call connected after just one ring, with a rather curt greeting.
"Yes?"
"Seth? Are you alright?"
"Well, you took your sweet time, didn't you, darlin'? I had half a mind to send Sheriff Metzger to do a wellness check. Lord knows the man would have trouble climbing out of a bathtub, but I bet he could manage peekin' through a shop window," the Doctor groused. "I wouldn't put it past that Baker fella to do somethin' unsavory."
I rolled my eyes affectionately at his paranoia.
"We had a perfectly lovely evening, and for your information, Seth Hazlitt, Mr. Lawrence Baker was a perfect gentleman," I emphasized as I wiped down the counter in preparation for my first customers of the day.
"I just had Loretta from the beauty parlor in here askin' after you. Apparently, there is a rumor circulatin' that you didn't leave the Borbey place until damn near two o'clock!"
A sigh escaped me. Several ladies on my street frequented Loretta's, so I couldn't exactly pinpoint who'd spied on us. Ah, the hazards of life in a small town like Cabot Cove.
"What can I say, Seth? I don't have to justify my behavior like a wayward teenager." Tossing the cloth I'd been using into a small bin for things that needed to be washed, I readjusted the phone against my ear. "He and I got talking, lost track of time, and I got home late. So what? Seth, he's knowledgeable and funny. I enjoyed his company."
The doctor grumbled under his breath.
"Just as long as he doesn't try anything."
"He wouldn't dare, and even if he did, I can defend myself," I said trying to reassure him. When all he gave me was a noncommittal harrumph, mischief poked me firmly. "Besides, he's a great kisser. Talk to you later, Seth!"
While he was still spluttering in outrage, I set the phone back on its cradle and giggled a bit to myself. I'd pay for that later, but that was alright. I'd box up a half dozen of his favorite muffins before the day was done as an apology.
--
One apology, several dates, and a few weeks later, I found myself in Philip Holt's store with Jessica. As she perused his wallpaper sample books, I glanced curiously at a few items on display. Within moments, Philip Holt was by my side. His daughter was engaged to Laurel's brother, Dave, and since I'd been Laurel's friend for so many years, Mr. Holt was a good friend.
"I'm worried about you." Philip's murmured comment as I browsed his inventory made me look up at him. "That Baker fellow...nobody knows anything about him other than he's apparently rich."
I knew he meant well since he'd known me and my family for the majority of my life, but I still bristled with indignance. Did the entirety of Cabot Cove have an opinion about my seeing Mr. Baker?
"They don't seem to care that his life isn't their business, either–"
"No, you don't understand. I had Bill Truslow over at the bank check up on him, and–" he broke off as Mrs. Fletcher brought a swatch of wallpaper over to the counter. "Find what you need, Jess?"
"Yes, I think this would be perfect, but I feel like I should ask first: how long would it take to get if you ordered it?"
I was grateful for the topic change, even if it was unintentional on my friend's part. I moved down the counter and flipped open one of the sample books in an effort to look busy.
"We've got that in stock," Mr. Holt said checking his records.
"Oh wonderful!" Mrs. Fletcher let out a sigh of relief about something finally going her way. "I think my luck is finally changing."
"That pattern will be lovely, Jess," I chimed in while I skimmed through the wallpaper swatches.
"You said it would take two rolls to cover the bathroom?" She asked, and Mr. Holt gave her a confirmation. "Good, then I'll take those with me."
"I'll go grab 'em for you," he said making his way through the doors at the back toward his stock room. In the meantime, I closed the sample book and walked over to Jessica.
"The new contractor is coming over at seven tomorrow morning," she murmured. "Hopefully he won't abandon me like Charlie did for the Borbey house job."
Before I could say a word in reply, though, the door to the shop opened with a jingle. With a crisp, tailored suit, a fancy red tie, and perfectly polished shoes, Lawrence Baker walked into store looking like a million bucks. He closed the door after himself, glanced at the empty space behind the counter and looked around the store until his eyes met mine. The smile that spread across his lips sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
"Good evening, Larry," I called as he reflexively straightened his suit and made his way over to us. He lifted my hands to his lips and gave my knuckles a near-reverent kiss.
"Hello, beautiful," he murmured, and for the first time he caught sight of the fact that we weren't alone. He looped one his arms around my waist, pulling me gently against his side as he turned to face Jessica.
"Mr. Baker, this is a very dear friend of mine, Jessica Fletcher. Jess, this is Mr. Lawrence Baker." He shook her hand warmly.
"Ah, Mrs. Fletcher. Yes, I recognize you from the photographs on your book jackets. It's a pleasure, madam. I understand we're sharing a contractor."
"Well, we were until today," she corrected, and she did a very good job not expressing her frustration as she had earlier that day with me and Seth.
"I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience," Larry said giving her an apologetic smile.
"Here you are, Jessica," Mr. Holt called as he carried the rolls of wallpaper in from the back. He looked up as he crossed the space, but when his eyes hit Mr. Baker, he froze and his jaw clenched. Larry was unfazed.
"Ah, Mr. Holt. Just the man I wanted to see," he said as the man in question resumed his route to the back of the counter. "You see, I wanted to speak to you before you closed about the property that you have for sale on the road just south of town."
"It's not for sale," the merchant grumbled as he set Mrs. Fletcher's wallpaper down and placed his hands firmly on the counter, "and we're closed."
Larry let out quiet laugh.
"Not according to your sign, and my understanding is that the property is for sale." At Philip's scowl, Mr. Baker lifted an eyebrow. "Really, sir, if you treat all of your customers like this it's a wonder you're still in business."
"We have nothing to say to one another, Mr. Baker."
"I think we do. It's obviously not about real estate, though, is it?" He asked as he gripped my waist a little tighter.
"Philip–"
"You keep quiet," he snapped at me before turning back to Mr. Baker. "And you. You're old enough to be her father!"
"Well, judging by your behavior, I'm not sure you are." I bit my tongue quietly so I wouldn't laugh at Mr. Holt's stunned expression.
"Leave her alone and get out," he growled.
"I'll see you tonight, won't I?" At my affirmative answer, he gave a devilish smirk. "In that case, good evening, Mrs. Fletcher."
Not caring one whit about the shop owner's order, Larry tilted my chin up and gave me a gentle, unhurried kiss.
"See you soon, my darling." With a wink, he finally released his grip on my middle and left the shop, the bell over the door ringing in his wake.
"Was that behavior really necessary?" I asked fixing Mr. Holt with a glare which he returned steadily.
"You ask him who he is and where he comes from."
"What on earth are you talking about?" I asked raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"I was trying to tell you before he came in. Bill Truslow over at the bank did some checking on Mr. Baker at my request," Mr. Holt started. "There was no record. Nothing! Nobody ever heard of Lawrence Baker!"
That didn't necessarily mean anything on its own. He was rich enough to keep his life private, if the rumors were true. It wouldn't be the first time somebody shut up some officials with a cash incentive. True, it wasn't the most moral way of ensuring privacy, but it was effective.
"That's interesting," Jessica piped up. "According to Eve Simpson, he paid cash for the Borbey House."
Mulling this new information over, Jessica and I left Mr. Holt's store. By the time reached the street corner where we were supposed to part ways, I'd come up with a few different possibilities for why Mr. Baker would have no background and want to leave no paper trail.
Jessica called my name, and I turned to her.
"I'm not one to interfere with peoples' private affairs, but you will be careful around Mr. Baker, won't you?" She implored, and I agreed. Jessica was just being cautious, and I couldn't really blame her. Especially not when she was the queen of mysteries. She'd written about convicts and criminals enough that she was always that extra bit careful when circumstances seemed suspicious.
And, she was usually proved right, in the end.
Thus, I made a mental note to do a little covert reconnaissance the next time I saw Larry. A few delicately posed questions wouldn't give me away. After all, we were still getting to know each other. Questions were only natural at this stage. I just hoped I could find a way to ask them discreetly.
To be completely honest, I haven't exactly planned this fic out, so I have no idea how many chapters this will be. It'll be a surprise for everyone, myself included! 😇 And yep, i have a lot of asks and tagged posts to get around to, but I wanted to put this out first. Enjoy!
If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, please let me know.
Part One is here.
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
Vreenak (ST:DS9) x Reader
[A/N: Future chapters will contain smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: Spoilers for ST:VOY S1E7 "Eye of the Needle," references to Romulan politics, espionage, stalking, references to an interspecies relationship, pre-Romulan/Human relationship, interspecies romance, threats, angst, time travel bs, references to marriage/a mating bond, skeptical Vreenak, Romulan undercover as a Vulcan, mentions of a previous Vulcan/Human failed relationship.
~*~
After a few months aboard the USS Armstrong, we were finally going to see the Epsilon Pulsar Cluster up close! We took on new crew members at the Epsilon IX Station; four of which were engineers intended to ease the burden of repairs mid-mission, two were specially-qualified science officers, and one was simply a late addition.
It was the latter of the group that fascinated me. With keen, icy blue eyes, sharp facial features, and neatly-groomed hair, the new Vulcan Lieutenant had drawn my attention from the moment he materialized on the transporter pad in his science division blue uniform. The others were escorted to their stations and quarters by the Chief Engineer and the Science officer assigned to the Bridge, and I was assigned to Lieutenant Velek.
Tall and mildly intimidating, the stoic Vulcan stepped down from the transporter pad, and I offered him the traditional Vulcan ta'al in greeting as I introduced myself.
His eyes roamed the length of my body, seemingly sizing me up, but he did return my greeting after a pause. Undoubtedly, I was not who he expected to see when he beamed aboard.
"It is...agreeable to meet you, Lieutenant," he muttered after a moment, and assuming that was about all I was going to get out of him for the moment, I plastered on what I hoped was a welcoming smile.
"If you'll come with me, I'll show you to your quarters." Velek did so without protest. Giving him a short overview of our ship's upcoming mission to update Starfleet's data regarding the pulsar cluster, I tried to be as concise as possible. Though I kept my gaze firmly forward, I couldn't help but feel as though he was observing me.
Keying in the entry code for his quarters, I gave him a quick glance through the layout. Our ship was a little different than the standard science vessel in terms of accommodations. Starfleet meant for us to be a prototype for longer-term science missions into deep space, so there were a few more amenities than were standard.
If his expression was anything to go by - he'd lifted a single eyebrow all of twice - Velek was either impressed or turning his nose up in the most Vulcan way possible.
"If there's anything else you need, please don't hesitate to let me know. My quarters are actually just to the right of yours, so if the comms go down and you need a book or some tea or something, I won't be hard to find," I said clasping my hands behind my back as he turned to face me.
Velek's icy blue eyes gave me an appraising once over.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. I will keep that in mind." Now that we were alone, I was struck by how deep and velvety his voice was.
Fuck. No way. I couldn't do this again. I was just asking to get hurt if I developed feelings for another Vulcan, so I simply wouldn't be interested in this one. Velek was a colleague, nothing more. That was all he'd ever be.
"I'll leave you in peace," I murmured with a polite smile. "Your first duty shift begins at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow morning, so take some time to rest or explore the ship, as you see fit. I'll see you in Science Lab Three."
He gave a polite nod, and I left his quarters. Taking a deep, steadying breath once I was back in the hallway, I forcibly shook my thoughts back into neutral territory. Velek was not for me.
--
Vreenak's first step aboard the Armstrong was to determine the Lieutenant's schedule - a task made easier by the proximity of her quarters to his. Next, he slipped inside and placed a few listening devices. Audio and visual in her living space, and audio-only in her bedroom.
He was careful to disturb nothing during his time in her space, but he couldn't stop himself from glancing through the few books she'd accumulated. A pair of poetry books, a copy of Surak's teachings, three assorted fictional texts, and what appeared to be a romance novel. Tucking the title away in the recesses of his brain for further research, he placed secondary sets of bugs in extremely innocuous places, pausing only when he leaned over the head of her bed.
A soft, sweet scent clung to fabric that Vreenak simply couldn't resist inhaling deep into his lungs. Something primal and dark stirred in his chest, and he just barely managed to suppress a small groan of hunger.
Horror washed over him when he realized what he'd done, and with a scowl, he left as quietly as he'd come. As he sat in his quarters testing the equipment one last time while he had the chance, he scoffed at his own behavior.
Fool of a man. If he didn't control himself, he'd end up with a Human wife whether he wanted one or not. And he most certainly did not.
Especially not one like her. She was too–
Somewhere in the midst of his thoughts, the sound of voices reached Vreenak's ears. She was back, and she had a guest. Accessing his new cameras, he watched as the Lieutenant and a Trill Ensign sat, kicking off their shoes and tucking their legs beneath them as they chatted. Raising the volume slightly, the Vice-Chairman listened in.
"–eyes like that? I mean, if someone like him looked in my direction, I'd be half-way to requesting Vulcan citizenship already," the Trill woman said with a gleeful smile. "Oh, come on. You have eyes in your head! The new guy's hot!"
The Lieutenant merely shrugged her shoulders.
"I mean...yeah, he's good-looking, but I got the feeling he's not easily impressed. He barely said two words to me. And he seems...irritable," she muttered, and her friend nudged her arm playfully.
"So he's just your type, then?" The Lieutenant looked up at her sharply, but the Trill just laughed. "You know I'm right. Every guy you've dated since the Academy has been some variation of a smart, handsome asshole. What makes Velek so different?"
Vreenak blinked. They were talking about him? The silence stretched between the women, and eventually the Ensign sighed, but less from frustration than concern.
"This is about Torek, isn't it?"
That was a new name. One that Vreenak instantly disliked, though he couldn't put his finger on the reason.
"Of course it is. When someone uses you like that, you don't forget it in a hurry," the Lieutenant wilted somewhat.
"I know, but this one's older," Vreenak bristled at that, "I bet he's got at least a modicum of tact when it comes to letting people down gently. And anyone would be more honest than Torek," the Trill said patting her friend's shoulder before moving to the replicator. "Now, I think ice cream is in order."
The rest of the evening's conversation was irrelevant, and once the Ensign headed back to her own quarters, Vreenak stretched and made to walk back to his own bedroom. Humans needed more rest than Romulans, so he fully expected that to be the end of her evening.
To his surprise, he glanced at the monitor once more, but instead of finding her heading toward her bed, he saw that she had curled up with a book - the romance novel he'd found on her shelf earlier.
After a long moment of debate, he switched his view to the camera situated behind her so he could note what page she was on.
How strange for her to be reading a romance, especially if what she'd said to her Trill friend was true. She'd been used by a Vulcan, yet she willingly sought romance? Did that not simply emphasize her loneliness to her? Was she addicted to the pain?
Vreenak's brow furrowed, and he pushed down memories of his own failed romantic endeavors. No, if he was in her position, he could never indulge in something like a romance novel. Elements, he didn't want to even in his current position.
Unfortunately, though, he would need to if he wanted a full understanding of her psychological state. He told himself it was all part of building a profile of the woman who'd claimed to be his wife.
Downloading the novel onto his personal terminal, he let his gaze linger on her for a time. She seemed so small and unassuming when she was all bunched up amongst the cushions.
But, he'd learned decades ago never to underestimate an opponent. The moment you did, that was usually when you got a knife in the back. He would not be such a fool. Not with her.
Thus, he opened the first page of the book file and began to read with a scoff, alternating his attention between her and the text of the drab little story with the childish pink hearts on the cover.
Vreenak decided it was his turn. He's the kind of chaotic stability I needed right now, tbh. Anyway, still winging it. Enjoy!
Part One here. Part Two here.
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
Vreenak (DS9) x Reader
[A/N: There will be suggestiveness in future chapters so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: References to Romulan politics, espionage, stalking, references to an interspecies relationship, pre-Romulan/Human relationship, interspecies romance, threats, angst, time travel bs, references to marriage/a mating bond, skeptical Vreenak, Romulan undercover as a Vulcan, mentions of a previous Vulcan/Human failed relationship, he's falling and he doesn't even know it, Romulan reading a Human romance novel.
~*~
I really have no reason to be nervous, I thought to myself as I got my lunch from the replicator. He's probably just uncomfortable with his new surroundings, and being Vulcan, it's difficult for him to express his discomfort.
Turning with my lunch tray, I caught sight of my current objective: Velek sat alone at a table in the mess hall, eating his lunch and reading a PADD. Thinking of those icy blue eyes again made my heart thud in my chest. Really, he was gorgeous, but he was also grumpy enough to make him a bit scary. Well, maybe he himself didn't scare me, but the thought of being on the receiving end of his anger, suppressed or not, definitely did.
Come on. Realistically, what's he going to do? Scowl you to death?
With a deep breath, I made my way over to him, putting on what I hoped was a friendly smile and not a terrified grimace. As I approached, his eyes flicked up and practically froze me in place.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" He asked in an almost deadly-quiet tone.
...I hated that he still sounded so sexy. Really, it wasn't fair. I was actively trying not to fall for any more Vulcans, and he was not making it easy.
"Hi! Er, uh, good afternoon, Lieutenant," I said trying to sound less terrified and more confident. "Is this seat free?"
He glanced at the seat across from him and back at me, seemingly considering his options. The Mess Hall was almost full, so seating was limited anyway. It wasn't like this an unreasonable request, but I guessed he was still trying to find a polite way to refuse. Just as I opened my mouth to apologize and go try to find another seat, he sighed.
"Yes, it is currently unoccupied," he said setting his PADD aside.
"May I...?" I gestured to the seat, trying to give him an opportunity to refuse, if he really didn't want me there.
"...You may." Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I thanked him quietly and sat down, trying to be mindful of his space so that I wouldn't make him more uncomfortable than he already appeared to be. "I trust you're ready for the anomaly scan analysis?"
"Oh, yes. I'm looking forward to seeing how this pulsar cluster differs from a couple of the others I've read about," I answered, and at that he lifted a sharp eyebrow.
"You've worked with these sorts of phenomena before?" He sounded genuinely interested, which I took as a tentatively positive sign.
"Well, as they're rare, I haven't had the opportunity before, but phenomena like these have been of particular interest to me since the Academy, so I've read pretty much all there is to know about them," I explained. "I've studied all the procedures, and I know that actually doing something in the field is much different than just studying the theories involved, but I'm confident in my abilities, so..."
I trailed off with a shrug.
"What about you? Have you ever studied a pulsar cluster up close before?"
"Twice, yes, but not in many years. I was barely thirty when I saw my first, then fifty when I saw my second," he said, and I felt my eyes widen. I knew he was older than he looked by Human standards, because of his Vulcan heritage, but it still took me by surprise that he was over fifty. It really shouldn't have stunned me, hell, even Torek was over seventy. Did...Did that mean he was closer to maybe...ninety?
Mental math aside, I nodded my head, trying to focus on the science aspect of the conversation rather than Velek.
"Oh really? That must've been so fascinating." I leaned a little closer in my seat. "Were they about this size, or...?"
"Both were smaller, actually," he said; some of the barrier in his gaze came down as he spoke. "Neither of the events I observed were quite this strong, either. I must admit, if I was not–"
He cut himself off abruptly as if he'd caught himself from saying something he shouldn't.
"I...am intrigued to see what differences this cluster will yield," he finished quietly, and if I was not very much mistaken, the tips of his ears had turned a darker shade of green than they were before. He crammed a bite of food into his mouth, staunchly not meeting my gaze, and I did the same, not wanting him to feel as though he was obligated to speak if he didn't wish to.
After a few moments of quiet, furtive looks between us, Velek and I accidentally met each other's gazes and froze.
"We're lucky to have you here, you know," I said, trying to set him at ease. "We've been a bit short-staffed lately, so your arrival couldn't have been better-timed."
"...Your gratitude is...appreciated, but misplaced," he began, some of the coldness seeping back into his tone. "I am here for the work. Nothing more."
With that sentiment out in the open, I realized I'd likely overstayed my welcome. Feeling awkward and out of place, I got to my feet.
Maybe his surroundings weren't making him uncomfortable. Maybe it was me.
"My apologies. I'll just...get out of your hair. Have a good rest of your shift," I said giving him a sheepish, apologetic smile and walking away before he could say anything. Shoving my mostly-full tray into the replicator to be recycled, I made my way back to my station. My appetite was gone.
--
Vreenak watched her walk out of the Mess Hall with a sinking feeling. Why did he care whether he'd hurt a little hevam's feelings? She was nothing to him. He was here specifically to avoid acquiring a Human wife. What did it matter if her poor, weak little emotions were injured?
He huffed quietly to himself and picked up the report he was supposed to be reading. Instead, though, his mind was focused solely on the expression that had crossed her face just before she rushed out: a mixture of pain, embarrassment, and regret. Had he truly been so intimidating? A sigh escaped his lips. Of course he had! He was the Vice-Chairman of the Tal Shiar, for Elements' sake, of course his looks were as cutting as his tongue was in Senate sessions.
Putting his own half-empty tray into the replicator, he made his way back to his station, trying to force his mind back into neutral territory to maintain his cover. That same look kept returning to his mind's eye even as he worked.
Later that night, they read through the next chapter of her book. Really, she'd chosen such a trite little story. Were these two actually meant to be together? He hated her, yet she was still mooning after him like a pathetic baby set'leth crying for its mother. It was hard for him to imagine the story ending well, but her Trill friend mentioned that it had a happy ending the last time she visited the Lieutenant's quarters. Why would anyone endure something so painful? Was love really worth that much?
Vreenak read a bit slower that night, finding himself repeatedly distracted by the way she looked. The shape of her nose, the curve of her cheeks...her rounded, extremely Human ears...
Eventually, she went to bed, and Vreenak did as well, but disturbingly, he found himself thinking about the message. 'Vree, honey,' she'd called him. She'd shortened his name, and he had the rather unsettling thought that in her voice, he actually liked how it sounded.
When he drifted to sleep that night, there was a small smile upon his lips at the ridiculous yet heady thought of her saying the entirety of his real name. Not that he would admit to such a thing, of course. Exhausted minds were prone to playing tricks on their owners.
Days passed, during which they kept to their little routine. They'd complete their shifts with minimal interaction, go back to their respective quarters, and Vreenak would read along with her in that insipid romance novel. The male love interest was, for lack of a better term, a complete veruul. If he simply admitted how he was feeling, there would be significantly fewer problems, and they could have ended this terrible book several chapters earlier.
Vreenak was grateful beyond words that he was not that dense. If he cared for a woman, he'd be brave enough to confront those feelings and do something about it. What a coward, that character was to hide behind his fear of losing her as if it was some sort of cloaking device! He was glad they were nearly three quarters of the way through.
He put the book away when she did, and assuming that she was off to bed, he went to change out of his uniform. He'd stripped down, and thrown on a dark green pair of sleep pants and a matching robe, but as soon as he went to begin his evening routine, the door chime sounded. Who would call on him this late at night?
--
When the doors to Velek's quarters slid open, I blinked in surprise. He was already out of uniform, wearing instead a dark green silk robe.
"Do you require something, Lieutenant?" At Velek's harsh, impatient tone, I used all of my restraint to keep from staring at the exposed stripe of his chest peeking out from behind the soft fabric. I must've looked like a startled deer!
"I apologize for disturbing you. The Captain just wanted me to check in and see how you were adjusting to your new post," I answered, which was partially the truth. Velek had been withdrawn - more than other Vulcan crew members I'd encountered, in any case. Despite extraneous socializing being considered largely unnecessary and illogical, most Vulcans engaged in at least a little bit of it. Velek, though, did not, which suggested continued discomfort on his part. "May I come in?"
After a long, hard stare, Velek stepped aside, and I took the opportunity to slip past him into his living space...
His...still-utterly-bare living space. Other than a few data PADDs and an empty glass on a table near the viewport, his quarters seemed virtually untouched. Had he not unpacked in the nearly two weeks that he'd been here?
"I apologize for my appearance. I was attempting to meditate and did not anticipate having a guest," Velek called, but he didn't make any move to draw the sides of his robe tighter around himself. At least he was comfortable enough to take that small liberty. Given the view, I certainly wasn't complaining.
"Where are your candles?" The question flew from my lips before I could stop it, and he paused.
"I neglected to acquire more before my last transfer, and as they cannot be replicated properly, I do not have access to them." Maybe that was why he was so short-tempered! He couldn't meditate properly! I knew how important the candles were to the process, and I knew the replicated ones gave off an unpleasant aroma - something about the synthetic oils didn't settle correctly into the wax mixture.
"Oh, I see. I, um...Is there anything I can do to make adjusting to this post any easier?" I asked as I turned to face him, only to see his eyes skimming slowly up my body as if he'd been observing me. No. That was too much to hope for.
"Nothing comes to mind at present," he said, and I nodded my head.
"Has everyone been treating you alright since you got here? Are they making you feel welcome?"
He walked over to his sofa and took a seat, crossing one leg over the other.
"As the rest of the crew have respected my desire not to socialize, I have no reason to complain." The ice had reentered his voice.
Oh. Right. He didn't like me. The glimpse of his bare chest had all but obliterated my rational thoughts.
"Oh, good. Well, uh, I apologize for interrupting your evening. I'll just go report to the Captain and leave you in peace." I practically bolted from his quarters before I could do something really stupid like asking if he wanted a completely logical cuddle.
--
How odd that she would run out like that right when he was going to break down and offer her a seat and a drink. Granted, he wasn't wearing his uniform, but he didn't look that bad...did he?
He glanced down at himself and felt an uncomfortable wrinkle of insecurity. A bit of his chest was showing, but he knew he looked better in this than he did in a Starfleet uniform. There was no question that this was more sensual, and she'd already admitted to her friend that she found him attractive, so...what was there for her to dislike?
Unsettled, he made his way to bed, but he couldn't coax his mind into a state peaceful enough for sleep. When Vreenak left his quarters for duty as a slightly more tired version of Lieutenant Velek the next morning, he spotted a box beside his door with his alias on the digital tag. Bending to inspect it, his brows lifted at the note it contained.
'I hope these help you feel more at home. Welcome aboard!'
Attached was a file giving written consent for an open flame in his quarters from the Captain. An open flame? Opening the box, he discovered a bundle of traditional Vulcan meditation candles.
There was only one person from whom these could have reasonably come. Glancing at the door to the quarters beside his, Vreenak couldn't help but feel a hint of surprise. Why would she be kind to him when he hadn't been that way to her? He'd attempted to shut down every friendly overture she'd made toward him, but he clearly hadn't succeeded.
And, did this mean she hadn't disliked what she'd seen of him the night before?
...More importantly, why should Vreenak care what she thought?
Quickly moving the box inside, he took a deep, steadying breath and headed to his station in the forward science lab. Sure enough, she'd beaten him there as always.
He wondered, as he often had these first two weeks, whether she'd slept better than he had. The skin beneath her eyes was darker than the rest, and Vreenak was stunned to feel concern bloom in his chest. Her self-deprecating jokes about insomnia had at least some basis in truth, then.
Again, why should he care? She was just a Federation officer! She was a mystery to be solved, a whisper from a potential version of the future, nothing more. He had a mission to accomplish. There was no time for him to become sidetracked by trivialities like some hev– some Human's health. He realized he'd been watching her for several seconds, but before he could turn away, she caught him staring.
Maybe that Trill was right. Vreenak must be getting older if he was slipping so severely.
"Good morning, Lieutenant," she called with a tentative smile stretching her lips. Forcing himself to move, he stepped over to the adjoining station and started his work for the day.
"The candles you left me..." he began, but as soon as he spoke, she looked over at him and his mind went blank. What...had he been saying?
"They...They are the traditional type. A-And, they're not replicated, I promise," she murmured when he didn't continue. "I apologize if I overstepped, but I just thought...I mean, when I was at the Academy, two of the three cadets I shared quarters with were Vulcans, and I always kept a few extras in case they needed them. It's sort of become a habit, and when you said you didn't have any..."
She trailed off, and Vreenak had to exert more force than he expected to keep himself from smiling at her. Vulcans didn't smile. Why did he suddenly resent that?
"It was not necessary, but...I appreciate them. You have my gratitude." He might not really be Vulcan, but the thought and intention behind the gesture touched him. He'd done nothing but be brusque and prickly with her, but she'd still managed to find enough kindness in her heart to offer him yet another olive branch. She was as stubborn as he was.
They worked on their respective tasks, side-by-side in silence for a moment before she spoke.
"So...does that mean we can be friends now?" The mischief in her voice made him glance at her out of the corner of his eyes.
"Do not push your luck," he muttered, and though his voice was as intimidating as it had always been with her, she simply smirked and turned back to her terminal.
And he was proud of her reaction.
The realization made him pause. Proud? What reason had he to be proud of a Human? He should hate her! She was the reason he'd been inconvenienced with this mission in the first place. Her call from the lonely darkness of the Delta Quadrant was what had summoned him from his cushy position in the Senate.
He should be home on Romulus, not wasting his time on a Federation science vessel. Abruptly, he stood and made his way to a different station, acting as though he required access to another set of data simply so he could put some distance between them.
This Lieutenant would not be his wife - she was nothing to him - therefore, there was no reason for him to become attached. Simple.
...So, why did he feel the loss of her proximity so keenly when he reached the other side of the lab?
Vreenak had become too involved in his role as Velek. To a Vulcan like his cover, she would be a perfect candidate for a mate. Studious, dedicated, accommodating, warm...the likelihood of her rejecting his attentions would be low...
Instinctively to a Vulcan, she would be perfect. For a Romulan, however, she was barely adequate. She needed more...more...something. Cunning, perhaps? Her naïveté was clearly uninspiring.
Yes, that was it. Vreenak was simply delving too deeply into his cover. All he needed to do was remind himself of why he was here: to investigate a Federation officer who would, at some point in the future, come to know three influential Romulans by name when she shouldn't. Threat assessment and, if necessary, removal.
Throughout his shift that day, his thoughts kept straying to the candles in his quarters. He told himself it was just one more piece to the puzzle.
...Yes this is another plot bunny. Yes I still have a ton of requests to get out. It's fine. Blame the brainrot.
If anyone wants to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know.
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
Vreenak (DS9) x Reader
[A/N: This will contain smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: Spoilers for ST:VOY S1E7 "Eye of the Needle", references to Romulan politics, references to an interspecies relationship, Romulan/Human relationship, interspecies romance, threats, espionage, angst, time travel bs (it'll make your head hurt if you analyze it too much, or at least it made mine hurt), references to marriage/a mating bond.
~*~
**2367 - Stardate Classified, Late afternoon - Romulan Senate**
Listening to Sabrun drone on and on about the threat of the Federation-Cardassian peace treaty was usually something Vreenak would enjoy, but today, his head ached. He'd been in nothing but meeting after meeting for weeks on end, both for the Senate and the Tal Shiar, and the tedium was finally getting to him.
When was the last time he took leave? Years, most assuredly - before he was elected to the Senate seven years ago.
Wasn't that about how long Sabrun had been talking? Consciously straightening in his seat, he forced his shoulders to release some of their tension. He relished the opportunity to serve his people, to protect them, but he hated long-winded sessions like this.
A tap on the arm knocked him out of the deep, sinking morass of his thoughts, drawing his attention to the aide who'd approached him. He wore not the uniform of the government, but that of the Tal Shiar.
Elements bless Koval for saving him from such an utterly dull session!
Quietly, he gave the Praetor a deferential nod and slipped out of the Senate building. The fresh air caressing his face sent a bolt of relief through him. Even though he would likely not be allowed to rest for some hours, he couldn't find it within himself to be resentful. He did need to take some leave, no doubt, but for now, he'd gladly accept the moment's respite that his position with the Tal had just given him.
"Ah, the Chairman summoned you, as well?" Vreenak smirked at the sound of Letant's voice, and he slowed long enough for his friend to catch up.
"Luckily. I thought Sabrun would never shut up. He makes good points, obviously, but does he never tire of the sound of his own voice?"
Letant let out a tired chuckle of his own at Vreenak's ire, but both men were too relieved to be free to dwell on their frustrations.
"Any idea what this might be about, Mr. Vice-Chairman?" Letant's use of the title brought a genuine smile to the other man's lips. Vreenak had only earned it a year prior, and he was damned proud of his success. "Am I to finally be silenced for knowing too much about you?"
"Never, old friend. We may disagree on some points, but I value you too much to ever allow it to come to that." Vreenak murmured as they walked.
"Thank you for coming so promptly. I hope that I have not inconvenienced the Senate too much by pulling you both mid-session," Koval called the moment that the pair of Senators stepped into his office, shrugging off their outer robes. A smirk played across the Vice-Chairman's lips.
"You and I both know that inconveniencing others is one of your favorite pastimes," he called taking a seat before Koval's desk and allowing himself to sink into the cushioned chair with a relieved groan. Letant took the other. "I must thank you. One of our colleagues had become...tedious."
"You will not thank me in a moment." Koval's tone was graver than Vreenak had heard it in some time. Uh oh. That was always a bad sign. "What I am about to show you goes no farther than this room. One of the Empire's scientists - Telek R'Mor, Captain of the Talvath - died recently."
Vreenak's brow furrowed slightly, and Letant tilted his head.
"His family has our sympathies, but I, for one, fail to see the relevance," the latter remarked.
The Chairman stood and poured both of his guests generous servings of kali-fal.
"There was a data storage device found in his belongings. It was accessed, and the contents were...intriguing. You see, it contained personal messages from the crew of a Starfleet ship to their families," Koval continued, "a Starfleet ship that has not yet been built."
At that, Vreenak froze with his glass halfway to his mouth, and Letant's lips parted in surprise.
"They were messages from the future?" Vreenak hadn't meant to ask the question, but it slipped out anyway.
"Indeed, but that is not all. Computer, play visual message one-three-one-alpha," Koval ordered, and the screen before on the desk before the Senators lit up with the image of a woman - a Human woman.
Mentally, Vreenak acknowledged that she was actually quite pretty for a hevam.
"Hi, sweetheart. I know you're probably surprised to hear from me...after such a long silence, I mean. I doubt you'd write me off so quickly, but, well, I'm sure by now you've worked out that something is wrong." Vreenak glanced at Koval, not yet grasping the significance of this seemingly random message, but the Chairman simply nodded back at the monitor. Letant seemed intrigued by the woman on the screen. "It's been a few months since Voyager went missing, and while I can assure you that I'm physically alright, I...Vree, honey, we're stuck in the Delta Quadrant."
His eyes widened at a single syllable amongst the mess of her rambling. 'Vree.' Was...? She was talking to him? Why the hell would a Starfleet officer - a Lieutenant Commander, by the look of her rank pips - be contacting a Romulan Senator? He'd never seen her before in his life. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Letant look at him curiously, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"We're doing everything we can to find a shorter way home, but it might take years," she admitted, and he noted that tears had slowly gathered in her eyes. "I understand if you want to petition the Praetor for an annulment. After all, it's not much use having a wife who's stuck in a whole other quadrant of space. But, I...I want you to know that no matter how long it takes, I will make it home to you. You're in my thoughts every day and night, deyhhan. I love you. Give Koval and Letant hell for me, okay?"
She blew a kiss to the camera just as a tear rolled down her cheek, and Vreenak set his glass aside just as the message cut off.
"Computer," Koval called, "display addressee for visual message one-three-one-alpha."
Vreenak's stomach clenched as he saw his own name and rank pop up on the screen along with the stardate on which the message was recorded - nearly four years in the future by the Federation's calendar, assuming his mental calculations were correct.
"Well, my friend, you seem to have gotten quite lucky. As far as Humans go, she seems delightful," Letant murmured as he downed his drink. "She's stuck in another part of the galaxy, of course, but she obviously cares for you–"
"This is a joke," Vreenak rasped, feeling anger bubble up inside him. She seemed to know about all three of them, but that couldn't be possible. "I've never even seen her before! Why would I marry a...a hevam?"
"I assure you, I would not have called you here if I had not already verified that this was not a joke," the Chairman stated, and he handed the Senator a data pad containing the results of the inquiry he'd conducted into the subject. An encrypted visual message from Telek R'Mor himself detailed the encounter he'd had with Voyager in 2351, including his logs, and even a covert visual recording he'd snagged from their communications with his ship. Apparently, the man had left instructions for the delivery of these personal missives, but his daughter had turned them over to the Tal Shiar as soon as she'd discovered that one of them involved three well-known Romulans.
A wise choice.
Farther down, he found a report on the woman in the message. She was a Lieutenant currently serving aboard a science ship. Having received high honors at Starfleet Academy, she also had several commendations on her record from various superior officers. There was no indication that she was involved with Starfleet intelligence or Section Thirty One, though.
How odd, given the circumstances. How else, hypothetically, would they have met if not through clandestine contact?
Koval was nothing if not thorough, and the fact that he'd already looked into this meant that there truly was no chance that this was a deception.
Vreenak had a wife. A Human wife. Or, at least, he might end up with a one at some point in the next four years.
Just in time to lose her to the Delta Quadrant.
"I take it you're interested in having this looked into, then?" Koval asked, and the sound of his voice spurred Vreenak into action. He downed the kali-fal he'd been served, then got to his feet.
"You're damned right, but I'll do it myself," the Senator said, straightening his tunic before donning his robes once more. "If this woman really did send a message from the future, then I need to know more about her. Her intentions, motives, possible schemes... This isn't just a mystery, it's a personal one."
"Of course. Do what you have to. I'll have transportation and an alias arranged, as well as a surgeon," the Chairman confirmed. "I trust you'll want a Vulcan persona to save time?"
"Naturally."
"Oh, and Vreenak?" Through Letant's opening inquiry, he could already hear the mischief in his voice. The man in question glanced back at him over his shoulder. "If you don't like what you see when you meet her, do feel free to send her my way. She is rather alluring."
The Vice-Chairman let out a gruff huff of laughter.
"Be careful what you wish for. I'm certainly not marrying a hevam, but if you're willing to debase yourself in such a manner, then by all means, have at her," Vreenak said as he strode to the door.
Pledge himself to a Human? Ha! He would never disgrace himself like that. His taste was much more refined.
