[ficlet] a final betrayal
Title: a final betrayal
Pairing: jim kirk/spock/romulan commander
Rating: r
Genre: slice-of-life
Warnings: swearing, sexual themes, mental dubcon (???)
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: advent calendar day 24, for gondoladriver. set immediately post-the enterprise incident. 934 words.
"You looked better, I think, with the ears," she says, when the door to her quarters slide open. Ensign Molohov nods as Spock crosses the threshold, the captain at his heels, and then returns to his guard post at the entrance.
Jim folds his arms across his chest, gazing at her through narrow eyes. "I'm quite flattered, Commander," he says, inclining his head. "Sorry to drop by on you so suddenly like this."
"Captain," she replies flatly, bowing in a manner that can only be construed as derisive. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Jim glances at Spock sidelong for a moment, eyebrows raised, before continuing. "As a prisoner aboard a Starfleet vessel, certain precautionary measures must be taken. Mr. Spock has agreed to conduct your interrogation."
"Interrogation," she repeats. Her mouth closes strangely around the word. "Is this another one of your Starfleet's unofficial commands?" A pause, and then: "What method of interrogation am I to be subjected to?"
Jim frowns. "Starfleet command has opted for a Vulcan mind meld."
"Ah," she murmurs, lips pursing. If she is frightened, nothing on her face shows it-an admirable feat. She turns to Spock. "A final betrayal."
"I have already voiced my concerns regarding this procedure," Spock says at last, stepping forward. "Romulans are not like Vulcans." She flinchs, Spock notices with clinical detachment. "We have not, for obvious reasons, had a chance to study them at length. I do not know if such a meld would be wise, considering the large statistical likelihood for unanticipated side effects."
"And yet," Liviana says. "Here we are."
"As first officer of the Enterprise," Spock says, "I obey my commands."
"Of course," she says. She sits down fluidly and tilts her face up, the edge of the bed dipping beneath her weight, ankles crossed and peeking out from beneath her dress.
Spock raises his right hand and anchors it in place on her cheek-
Romulan women are not like Vulcan females. Romulans are not like Vulcans, nor are they like their human counterparts. In Vulcans, emotions run deep but strong. In humans, they are in a constant state of flux and disarray.
Romulans wield their emotions like a weapon.
-and he is in the throes of pon farr, except that this isn't pon farr but some terrible bastardization of it that steals his breath and leaves him nothing more than a hollow shell. Liviana lies curled up beneath him, completely bereft of clothing, one hand threaded through his hair, the other's fingers tracing a slow, inexorable slide down the plane of his stomach. Behind him, someone speaks, but the voice is too low and indistinct and Spock's mind too fraught with other, more insistent urges for him to understand what it's saying.
Then, a familiar hand reaches over Spock's shoulder. He recognizes it through the hazy film of arousal: it belongs to the captain. Jim's chest is to his back and the hand is reaching down to join Liviana's; Spock hears an echo of her laughter in his ear, warm and wet and laced with intent, and then both hands are jerking at his erection, and Spock is gasping at the sensation, the slick slide of skin against skin-
When Spock comes to, he's half-collapsed on the floor, vision blurry, breath escaping from his mouth in rattling wheezes. Ensign Molohov is on the far side of the room, phaser pointed at the Romulan Commander. Jim is bent over Spock, expression overwrought with a mixture of worry and fear. Humans-so emotional.
"I saw, on my ship," Liviana calls, glaring disdainfully at the weapon in Molohov's hand. "I know what it is that you want. Touch telepathy is-how would you say it in Federation Standard? A two-way street?"
Spock should have known better-should've known she would use any and all of it against him, if given the chance. It was an egregious mistake not to consider all the facts.
"Are you alright?" Jim asks, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Spock flinches away before he can stop himself. Jim looks, if it's possible, even more troubled.
"I'm fine," Spock lies, climbing to his feet on his own, head spinning. He leans heavily against the wall for a moment and waits for the nausea to subside. "I will be fine. I will report to sickbay and Doctor M'Benga will attend to my needs." Liviana meets his gaze coolly. "A cycle of deep meditation should rectify any superficial damage the Romulan Commander might have inflicted."
"If you say so," Jim says, understandably dubious. He follows Spock out into the hallway. "Look, I'm sorry about the mind meld, it was stupid to think that-"
"Any apology on your part is unnecessary, Captain," Spock interrupts, turning on his heel toward the turbolift. He wipes his palms surreptitiously against the stiff cloth of his uniform. "If you wish to proceed with the interrogation, any information you might glean will be of value to Starfleet. I myself have several hypotheses developed about the Romulan people that I'm sure will be of interest."
"Right," Jim replies, sending him a strange look, and doesn't press the matter. "Of course you do. Are you sure you'll be okay?"
He nods. "Your concern is flattering, but also unnecessary."
Jim rolls his eyes. "Of course it is."
It takes him five full cycles of meditation to flush the feeling of the feral rush of blood from his system-and still, he cannot wholly forget, even after the Commander is transferred to Starbase 23 and the Enterprise is long gone. Somehow, he knows it's what she wanted.
fin
A/N: I WATCHED THE ENTERPRISE INCIDENT JUST FOR THIS, ARIEL!!!! it was delightful like this is decidedly not, lmao urgh i honestly have no idea if this is what you wanted but... merry christmas, girl! u__u SORRY IT'S LIKE TWO DAYS LATE ;__;
Pairing: jim kirk/spock/romulan commander
Rating: r
Genre: slice-of-life
Warnings: swearing, sexual themes, mental dubcon (???)
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: advent calendar day 24, for gondoladriver. set immediately post-the enterprise incident. 934 words.
"You looked better, I think, with the ears," she says, when the door to her quarters slide open. Ensign Molohov nods as Spock crosses the threshold, the captain at his heels, and then returns to his guard post at the entrance.
Jim folds his arms across his chest, gazing at her through narrow eyes. "I'm quite flattered, Commander," he says, inclining his head. "Sorry to drop by on you so suddenly like this."
"Captain," she replies flatly, bowing in a manner that can only be construed as derisive. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Jim glances at Spock sidelong for a moment, eyebrows raised, before continuing. "As a prisoner aboard a Starfleet vessel, certain precautionary measures must be taken. Mr. Spock has agreed to conduct your interrogation."
"Interrogation," she repeats. Her mouth closes strangely around the word. "Is this another one of your Starfleet's unofficial commands?" A pause, and then: "What method of interrogation am I to be subjected to?"
Jim frowns. "Starfleet command has opted for a Vulcan mind meld."
"Ah," she murmurs, lips pursing. If she is frightened, nothing on her face shows it-an admirable feat. She turns to Spock. "A final betrayal."
"I have already voiced my concerns regarding this procedure," Spock says at last, stepping forward. "Romulans are not like Vulcans." She flinchs, Spock notices with clinical detachment. "We have not, for obvious reasons, had a chance to study them at length. I do not know if such a meld would be wise, considering the large statistical likelihood for unanticipated side effects."
"And yet," Liviana says. "Here we are."
"As first officer of the Enterprise," Spock says, "I obey my commands."
"Of course," she says. She sits down fluidly and tilts her face up, the edge of the bed dipping beneath her weight, ankles crossed and peeking out from beneath her dress.
Spock raises his right hand and anchors it in place on her cheek-
Romulan women are not like Vulcan females. Romulans are not like Vulcans, nor are they like their human counterparts. In Vulcans, emotions run deep but strong. In humans, they are in a constant state of flux and disarray.
Romulans wield their emotions like a weapon.
-and he is in the throes of pon farr, except that this isn't pon farr but some terrible bastardization of it that steals his breath and leaves him nothing more than a hollow shell. Liviana lies curled up beneath him, completely bereft of clothing, one hand threaded through his hair, the other's fingers tracing a slow, inexorable slide down the plane of his stomach. Behind him, someone speaks, but the voice is too low and indistinct and Spock's mind too fraught with other, more insistent urges for him to understand what it's saying.
Then, a familiar hand reaches over Spock's shoulder. He recognizes it through the hazy film of arousal: it belongs to the captain. Jim's chest is to his back and the hand is reaching down to join Liviana's; Spock hears an echo of her laughter in his ear, warm and wet and laced with intent, and then both hands are jerking at his erection, and Spock is gasping at the sensation, the slick slide of skin against skin-
When Spock comes to, he's half-collapsed on the floor, vision blurry, breath escaping from his mouth in rattling wheezes. Ensign Molohov is on the far side of the room, phaser pointed at the Romulan Commander. Jim is bent over Spock, expression overwrought with a mixture of worry and fear. Humans-so emotional.
"I saw, on my ship," Liviana calls, glaring disdainfully at the weapon in Molohov's hand. "I know what it is that you want. Touch telepathy is-how would you say it in Federation Standard? A two-way street?"
Spock should have known better-should've known she would use any and all of it against him, if given the chance. It was an egregious mistake not to consider all the facts.
"Are you alright?" Jim asks, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Spock flinches away before he can stop himself. Jim looks, if it's possible, even more troubled.
"I'm fine," Spock lies, climbing to his feet on his own, head spinning. He leans heavily against the wall for a moment and waits for the nausea to subside. "I will be fine. I will report to sickbay and Doctor M'Benga will attend to my needs." Liviana meets his gaze coolly. "A cycle of deep meditation should rectify any superficial damage the Romulan Commander might have inflicted."
"If you say so," Jim says, understandably dubious. He follows Spock out into the hallway. "Look, I'm sorry about the mind meld, it was stupid to think that-"
"Any apology on your part is unnecessary, Captain," Spock interrupts, turning on his heel toward the turbolift. He wipes his palms surreptitiously against the stiff cloth of his uniform. "If you wish to proceed with the interrogation, any information you might glean will be of value to Starfleet. I myself have several hypotheses developed about the Romulan people that I'm sure will be of interest."
"Right," Jim replies, sending him a strange look, and doesn't press the matter. "Of course you do. Are you sure you'll be okay?"
He nods. "Your concern is flattering, but also unnecessary."
Jim rolls his eyes. "Of course it is."
It takes him five full cycles of meditation to flush the feeling of the feral rush of blood from his system-and still, he cannot wholly forget, even after the Commander is transferred to Starbase 23 and the Enterprise is long gone. Somehow, he knows it's what she wanted.
fin
A/N: I WATCHED THE ENTERPRISE INCIDENT JUST FOR THIS, ARIEL!!!! it was delightful like this is decidedly not, lmao urgh i honestly have no idea if this is what you wanted but... merry christmas, girl! u__u SORRY IT'S LIKE TWO DAYS LATE ;__;