JL | Cmdr Valeese, LtCmdr Stacker | "Home Coming" pt I/II

Posted on Sun Jan 20th, 2019 @ 3:57am by Commander Valeese Stacker

Mission: Lacuna

It had been over a day since the Campbeltown returned to the station with her alien prize in tow. The ensuing time had flown by, by comparison to the hours that had dragged past during the return from that far-flung system. Every minute had seemed packed: with meetings, with debriefings, with post-mission reviews, with discussions of procedures, analysis of everything from crew performance to suggested tactic adjustments. There had even been time for an ad hoc strategy conference to discuss safeguard and containment procedures. Which had broken up about as soon as it had started, for want of further information. To say it was a thoroughly mentally-worn-out Commander Stacker who now walked the corridors was an understatement.

It was no great surprise that at some point along the way he managed to forget where he'd intended to go, and confused it in his mind for where he needed to be. This only became known to him however when he stepped out of the turbolift car. For starters the deck layout was wrong: there was no podium and sentry to greet him. No flags of the UFP and Starfleet standing tall. Puzzled, he glanced to the bulkhead and saw the address was completely wrong. And then it hit him with what he swore was a jolt of energy. He knew where he was: in that instant that madness that'd plagued him on the Campbeltown came roaring back with a vengeance.

Small wonder that he set off down the corridor, towards the doors that beckoned to him. His own quarters would have to wait.

A good book, a warm cup of tea, feet up on pillows while the arm of her couch and another pillow cradled her neck and head, Valeese was more than comfortable. The robe she'd tucked herself into after her shower was down right luxuriously soft and warm - so much so that it was beckoning her to put the book down and drift off to the land of nod. 'The Wonderful Wizard of Oz' could wait, even if she had paid a small fortune to get her hands on an early copy printed in the Terran year of 1900. A half-lidded eye made its way over to where her prize lay hidden in a carefully controlled case - the one in her hand was simply a bonus. Printed much later than it's counterpart, it wasn't nearly as fragile and as such had found itself in the employ of her imagination.

A sudden stirring from her door chime, however, squashed all thoughts of bedtime with a hushed groan and the gentle sound of her book meeting her coffee table. The journey across her sitting area wasn't the fastest time she'd ever made - a passive aggressive display of displeasure at being disturbed if there ever was one - but her irritation soon faded when the door opened and she was left face to face with the Ghost, "Commander Stacker," she greeted him for the sake of professional grade ears that may have been traveling the halls, "Please, come in." He himself looked beat, artificially aged by the process of post-operation let down. By comparison, she'd had it extremely easy. A handful of questions, the turn in of a report she'd written during the journey home, and then private time spent in her office under the guise of catching up on paperwork and reading up on what transpired during her absence. In reality she'd been making absolutely certain that her favorite secret was doing well after her rather unpleasant run in with zombies and strange alien fungal spores. Of course her secret remained safe as well as sound. Just as she should be.

Even with a mind half-fogged with more ardent thoughts and - above all else - desires, he was still able to retain just enough professionalism to acknowledge her offer with a polite "thank you." Those footsteps across the entryway might as well have been a hundred years each, though. His steps felt leaden. Slowed. Each one he took echoed in the thunder and sudden rush he felt inside, as his heart beat even stronger. It was quite one thing to be close to her aboard the ship, but here and now he was subject to two constants: first, she had invited him in. Second, as soon as the door closed behind him there would be absolutely nothing to stop him bringing about what he wanted most.

And what did he want here? To have her? To hold her again? To reaffirm what they'd had before the mission? Yes, he decided as the sound of the door hydraulics reached his ears and it 'snicked' shut behind him. But did she feel the same? Why wouldn't she? "Val ..." It was the only thing he could say before the lump in his throat closed off further speech. His jaw tightened as he looked at her: an urgent and burning desire pressed in upon him.

Taking a step or two out of his way of entry had been auto-pilot. Watching him cross the threshold while the door closed hand found one of her hands coiling instinctively into the warm terry cloth where her robe crossed over itself at her décolletage. When he spoke, she tilted her head and her ears pricked towards the unusual quality that had arisen within his voice. Rough, air stricken, it was different and it took her a moment longer than it should have to realize that it was an entirely new brand of desire - one she'd felt during their trip home from that damn moon, but hadn't managed to articulate. Not yet anyway.

What it did do, without reason for doubt, was nudge her towards him and erase any and all dust that may have settled between them. It started with a sort of hug, her nimble little body raising on tip toe to allow her to drape her arms over his shoulders - or at least as best they could - while her head rested against the warmth of his chest. That, she decided, was the meaning of 'coming home'. Didn't matter about quarters or stations or ships or moons or planets - he was her definition of home and being with him, allowed to freely touch, hold, and be held by him was the most comforting thing she'd ever encountered.

All the tension that had begun to build up in the last few seconds went out of him in a sudden rush. It left him questioning why he'd ever suspected - even however brief it might have been - that the time since he'd last been able to do this in comfort, and peace, would have somehow affected what they had. His head angled downwards, lips finding her hair and pressing a kiss there. When he breathed in he smelled her. Delicious. Arms circled around her back and gently pulled her to him. Keeping her close - as if there was any doubt that the situation might change! A sound of vague contentment managed to escape his throat as he took another breath and let her scent fill him. Lips pressed home a second kiss and arms slid a little more around her. His urges - he could keep them at bay. For a bit.

"I missed this," that rough-hewn voice managed to murmur.

"Mhmmm." Valeese couldn't have uttered anything more intelligible at that moment if her life depended on it. It was a good thing that it didn't and that she was firmly free to relax in the spook's embrace. Hardly ignorant of the drive and intentions behind the man's sudden appearance - or of her own hardly unique desires - the over all need for connection and affection beyond simply stripping and devouring one another overwhelmed everything she thought she knew. Even the press of his lips against the top of her head firmly stated that she'd made the right choice in bridging the gap with an embrace - one which erased doubt and worry that seemed to be harbored by both sides of their strange little equation - and in return she nosed closer and returned his kiss with one of her own to his chest. It just felt right even in a universe filled with so many things that felt wrong and would be filled with further wrongs sooner than she cared to admit. Leaving this, leaving him wasn't something the wanted to dwell on - especially not while they could enjoy one another for at least a little while longer.

The embrace and comforting silence dragged on for minutes longer. Until he couldn't stand it any more, and found himself unconsciously moving the two of them towards a nearby chair. Were it possible to commend his unconscious mind he would have done so. It was a soft chair with plump - but not too well-stuffed - cushions and deep armrests with just enough sizing to comfortably fit one human-sized frame with an attached Vorta in their lap. It proved ideal to the task he had in mind, surprisingly. Namely settling into the chair and then towing her along with him. It was a position of immediate benefit in his estimation. For one the height difference was gone. For two ... he just liked it. His arms almost immediately entwined themselves around her and he buried his nose and chin back in her hair. From here he resumed his silent protective vigil over her. Passions and desires for something 'more' remained comfortably at bay for the time being ... although it didn't stop a finger from gently and idly sliding up over her collar to stroke a small patch of skin on the back of her neck.

Nor did it stop her from closing her eyes and remaining comfortably frozen against him as his finger played across her skin. The entire move hadn't come as a surprise, and if anything had been downright welcomed. Height difference was more than just a pain in the ass - it was a pain in the neck for a man of his stature trying to compensate for her lack of vertical integrity, and she knew it. Of course being tugged and deposited into someone's lap was hardly the most dignified thing to have done, but Valeese couldn't have cared less given the tugger and the reasons why... As such, she was a more than cooperative tuggee that soon found herself resting her head somewhere just south of the hollow of his clavicle and craning just enough to give him room beneath the plush fabric of her robe and the warm, delicate flesh of her neck while the rest of her subtly adjusted to rest astride his lap. It was perfect, even if the two of them were near on exhausted, and the sigh she heaved was one of true contentment.

"I was worried I wasn't going to see you tonight. Kind of gave up on it." Her voice was a touch gravelly when she spoke, likely from lack of use for the majority of the evening. It wasn't exactly something she'd planned to do very much of given the fact she was more than proficient at silent reading.

He thought about that for a moment, the finger being joined by another while he was lost ... elsewhere. He hadn't really intended to come here, had he? This had been all an act by his unconscious. Thinking back he remembered saying something to the main computer in the turbolift car. Eyes narrowed as he perused this memory, then widened as he realized that he really couldn't recall what floor he'd said. "Hm." He settled back in the chair as his eyes blinked and he refocused on what was important to him at this moment in time. After a brief moment of contemplation, in which a white lie was weighed against the truth, he opted for truth. "I didn't think I was going to see you either. My subconscious decided otherwise for me." He was suddenly - and very acutely - conscious of the fact that she was straddling his lap.

"Then I thank your subconscious for deciding to bring you this way." She murmured into his shirt. Pushing back to sit up and take a good look at him was almost agonizing until she reminded herself that - while this was a limited time offer - he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. She could have this when she pleased, so long as it didn't interfere with the greater scheme of life and Starfleet and duty to the latter - especially his. A dainty palm rested in the space her head had mere seconds before, and her fingers fanned out to help stabilize and lend aid to her balance. The center of it had begun to shift making mundane tasks a touch more difficult - and this was one of them. She wasn't quite as nimble as she'd once been, but she wasn't exactly klutzy. So much so that her way of perching never crossed her mind as anything other than ideal as she observed the lines of his face and the tiredness etched across them and resting within his eyes. The patch was off, something she'd chide him for later. Such a talking to could wait for sake of everything else she found within those eyes.

Desire. Arousal. Maybe a hint of admiration...

Valeese's gaze didn't linger too much longer, it withered away in the space of time it took for her lashes to meet and her lips to find his.

His lips tingled where they met, but not for one second did he think of pulling back. Instead he wholeheartedly - some might say recklessly - embraced the rising feelings and let instinct guide him. It send questing hands to motion: sliding down her shoulder blades. Over the middle of her back. The small of the back. Fingertips pressed firmly to the cloth as they cupped her derrière and he let out a hum to indicate his feelings on the subject. And yet it seemed that even this small, bold, step wasn't enough: instinct screamed at him to let go of his restraint. To make himself known. To conquer her again and make her his. Yet he found himself, oddly enough, holding back a bit. For what? He didn't know. Some hidden sign? Some cue that she was on the same page? It was a puzzle to be sure, but not enough of one to stop him dead in his tracks.

Gently, his lips became displaced from hers and began working along her jaw. Light and soft, heading for the left side of her neck.


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To Be Continued...
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Commander Valeese
Chief Medical Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB - 1170

Lt Commander James Stacker
Chief Intelligence Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB - 1170