Codes: J/N/7
Rating: R
Disclaimer:  Disclaimer: The Trek universe belongs to Paramount.
Synopsis:  A going-away party for Captain


A Drabble Sequence; Each drabble switches POV.

Going Away

by Kelly and Boadicea



1.
Neelix, her house guest, cooks.

Seven arrives early to help. He's not just a house guest, she sees that immediately, but the ache fades as they work together.

It's a lovely party. Real wine. Seven, the last to go, sits by Kathryn on the sofa. A knee against a thigh. Neelix notices.

He stands. "I should get to bed."

He walks behind where they sit.

Kathryn arches back, half turns her head, reaches out her arms to him. "Don't go." She takes his hands.

Seven shifts, increasing the contact between their bodies. Kathryn inhales sharply, her hands tightening on his.



2.
Neelix feels heat -- theirs, his. He slides his hands down Kathryn's arms, cups her breasts.

He finds it strange and wonderful, being on Earth. Being with her. He has long loved her, although his first view of her nakedness had made him shiver. Pale. Unspotted. Human.

She'd shivered, too. For several nights they had kept the lights off.

Kathryn caresses Seven's thigh. The sight of those narrow fingers, stroking. . . Neelix groans, lowers his mouth to Kathryn's throat. Seven leans over Kathryn, kisses her. Neelix's hands are pressed between them.

How he wants that pale, smooth skin now.



3.
Her head rests on the back of the sofa. Seven's leg is warm beneath her fingers. Neelix kisses her neck.

She doesn't . . .she shouldn't . . .but she can't think why. Tomorrow she will be gone. Six months, if all goes well.

Tonight, Seven kisses her, lightly, softly, then takes a sip from the glass she still holds, puts it down.

Neelix's fingers move over the fabric of her shirt. He is murmuring her name. His breath smells faintly like new mown grass.

And then Seven's mouth is back, her kiss transferring the wine, her lips soft, the wine sharp and clean.



4.
Seven pauses, waiting for a "stop" that doesn't come. She leans forward, touching again the smooth, thin lips that now open gently beneath her own. Seven tastes wine and Kathryn, and soon she cannot tell which is which.

The kiss is no longer light or soft.

Tomorrow Kathryn will be gone, a captain again. Tomorrow. But tonight, there is only heat and sharp sweetness and promise.

Seven sits back, breathes. She watches as Neelix slowly unfastens Kathryn's shirt. It is the color of the wine, and Seven breathes harder as Kathryn's pale skin is revealed against the dark red silk.



5.
He remembers the first time Kathryn kissed him, how the certainty of her kiss erased his doubt. And now he watches her kiss Seven with that same certainty, that intensity which delights him.

He had been willing to leave them. He has no claim on her -- just her arms around him in the night, her cries, her warmth. Now her fingers tighten on his arm and her nipples stiffen beneath his hands.

He has learned to undo buttons by feel; he looks from Seven's face -- she watches with a hunger he well understands -- to Kathryn's slightly parted lips, half-closed eyes.



6.
Kathryn feels their eyes upon her. She is used to being observed, to being the focus of her crew.
This is different. Their gazes caress her, excite her. A current of desire swirls around her.

Her clothes are suddenly heavy on her skin. She shrugs the shirt off her shoulders and breathes deeply, relishing the eddy of air over her breasts. Neelix draws his fingers along her collarbones. She closes her eyes, turns her head to meet his mouth. Seven's hands find her breasts, and Kathryn's hands find the front of Seven's dress. She can undo buttons by feel, too.



7.
Buttons fascinate Seven. Primitive fasteners, ornament which advertises opening. It is because she imagines their undoing that she wears a dress with buttons down the front. And now Kathryn's elegant, efficient fingers are on those buttons, her body stretching into Neelix's kiss, wine dark silk sliding from her shoulders, pooling beneath her.

Seven's constant awareness of being alone lifts as her fingers learn the softness of Kathryn's breasts, the texture of the skin around her nipples, as they brush against Neelix's hands as he too caresses her. As she feels the first of her buttons yield, fingertips on her skin.



8.
Neelix is aware of Seven. Her heat, her hunger. Her skin, pale like Kathryn's.

But he is more aware of Kathryn. Even after two weeks, the sensation of her mouth on his is heady and unexpected. It is almost too much.

He draws away slowly. Kathryn's eyes are still closed, her lips wet.

It is not enough. He rounds the sofa, kneels before her.

She reaches for the catch of his coat, and he covers her fingers with his, helping her. He will always help her.

He feels Seven behind him, lifting the coat away, her breath warm and close.



9.
She opens her eyes to see Neelix at her feet. Her fingers go from Seven's dress, three buttons now undone, to his collar. Seven moves away, but before Kathryn can try to bring her back, she sees that it is to help Neelix.

His fingers leave hers as his coat comes off. Seven's hands return to him, one sliding across his chest. He gives a soft mm.

For the first time, she is sure that they both want, not only her, but this.

Their eyes are on her. She is aware of the air against her lips as she inhales.



10.
Seven is surprised by Neelix's warmth. She had expected. . .she is no longer certain what she expected. His skin feels supple and dense, like old, familiar leather. It's a sensation she knew long ago. Briefly, a half-memory enfolds her, then is gone.

But the warmth remains.

Neelix turns, and now it is his hands on the last buttons of her dress. Kathryn slides to her knees behind him, wraps one arm around his body. He hums again as her breasts touch his back.

With her other hand, Kathryn tugs the fabric from Seven's shoulders.

The warmth becomes a welcome chill.



11.
Together they undress Seven. The finely patterned fabric falls from shoulders to reveal coral satin.
Her pale hair, smooth human hair, slides between his fingers.

He shifts, seeking the garment's closure, trading the warmth of Kathryn's body against his for the pleasure of watching her. Her open shirt is off her shoulders, draped between her arms. She brings Seven's left hand to her mouth, taking a fingertip between her lips, then tracing up the metal-laced finger with her tongue.

Seven leans back against him with a small gasp. Her right hand clasps his leg.

He finds the satin's fastening.


12.
The metal is flexible, soft, oddly unmetallic. Seven curls her fingers gently into Kathryn's mouth, then trails them along her throat.

Kathryn watches Neelix slide satin over Seven's breasts; she feels Seven's touch, smooth on her skin. For a moment, she seems to experience both fabric and fingertips together.

The warmth of Seven's hand and the warm shades of satin and silk and Neelix merge into a sunset-hued yearning, and now Kathryn's only mission is to feel her body between theirs, Seven's breasts on her own, Neelix's hardness within her.

She wants their tastes and their scents and them.



13.
Even as the feelings wash over her, even as they leave her gasping, Seven wonders about desire. What is it that she wants? She wants the not aloneness. She wants the physical pleasure, the sensations that delight, Kathryn's mouth on her hand, Neelix's hand sliding the satin over her abdomen, exposing her breasts, the feel of their skin beneath her fingers.

But she wants Kathryn most of all, wants to have her, though she wonders what having is. The absolute power of giving her pleasure?

Are all these desires what is called "desire"?

"Kathryn," she half-whispers, moving toward her.



14.
Neelix sits back as Kathryn reaches for Seven, and they come together, breasts and lips meeting, Kathryn's slender fingers combing through Seven's hair, Seven's mouth opening under Kathryn's, her silver-tipped hand sliding between Kathryn's thighs, seeking, caressing.

They are beautiful, their passion is beautiful, and Neelix does not feel neglected, even though he knows that for the moment they have forgotten him. Kathryn had wanted him to stay with them; that is gift enough.

So their pleasure becomes his as he watches them slip off the last of their clothing, watches Seven's tongue trace Kathryn's nipple, hears Kathryn's low cry.



15.
The years of half-acknowledged longing, the sharp yearning, are there, as she moans, as Seven's tongue circles her nipples, sends a current through her body. And the slowly realized warmth -- soft, gradual, unnamed -- is there too, behind the ache to take his body into hers.

All there, but not as thought; there is no thought now, no conscious awareness of past or future, just Seven's perfect body curving beneath her caresses, the soft weight of Seven's breasts as they slide across her skin, Seven's mouth and fingers, sending waves of sharp pleasure to meet the warm ache inside.



16.
Seven turns on her side, her fingers still stroking. She wants to see Kathryn's face.
Kathryn's eyes are closed, her expression intense. Seven is reminded of the day they stood together, almost touching, watching the perfection of Omega.

"Three-point-two seconds," Seven says.

Kathryn looks up, smiles. "Longer," she murmurs; "you'll see." She draws Seven's head down to hers as she begins slowly to move against the silver hand. Seven can no longer separate desire from sensation.

Then she feels Neelix beside her, his one hand finding her breast, the other joining the rhythm set by her fingers and Kathryn's body.



17.
His hand on Seven's, he feels the tracery of her fingers transmit Kathryn's heat. In the kitchen earlier, Seven worked beside him, adapting her rhythm to his. Now he follows her.

He lets himself sink into their passion, or rather, float in it -- lets himself be carried along, rocked by it, rocked as by a sea which is at once encompassing and other.

Kathryn gasps now, Seven's mouth on her throat. Her pleasure moves through him, a wave he knows can take him under. And then, almost lost, he again feels her fingers clasp him.

"God. Neelix. Inside me. Please."



18.
His eyes search her face; he touches her lips in a kiss almost chaste. He always gives her this -- this moment of emotional consummation before the powerful pleasure of the physical.

"Neelix," she says, quietly this time, and then he is filling her, his cock hotter than a human's, his welcome heat merging with hers. She is wrapped in his warmth and his arms, feeling his desire in his deepening thrusts and in his lips, no longer soft against her own.

Then his mouth is gone, and she is breathless with loss until she feels Seven's tongue replace his.




19.
She watches, watches this woman she has admired, and fought, and loved -- so different now, skin bare, flushed, moaning as her body moves to Neelix's thrusts -- and yet not different -- the exact same person --but giving herself to pleasure, to them.

There is no neural, no telepathic link, but still Kathryn's excitement courses through her, fuels her own.

Seven kisses her, slides her tongue along parted lips; her hands move down Kathryn's arms, feeling the smooth softness of the skin, the tension of her muscles, feeling her move almost as if she struggled with something unseen.

Seven pins her wrists.



20.
Talaxians call it baxat -- a plateau of sustained sexual sensation, where time slows, the senses sharpen, the mind abandons thought. The state is so rare that many think it a myth.

But Neelix attains baxat now.

He sees Seven through an amber haze, her hands slowly circling Kathryn's wrists, each finger seeming to tighten separately. He sees Kathryn, golden in the light, muscles taut, outstretched arms arching gracefully. He feels her yield to Seven, to him, allowing them to take her as they will.

It has a name, this state. It is baxat. It is pleasure. It is Kathryn.



21.
A moment of awareness, of how she must look, of how this is not how she imagines others imagine her.

And then back, feeling, completely.

Pleasure, strong, waves of it, her own sounds coming to the rhythm of those intensifications, no awareness of lessening, only of the pattern of increase, pleasure, almost pain, Seven's hands strong, Neelix, almost pain, but not pain, there can be no pain now, muscles tightening, only pleasure, only now.

Wanted, yes, she's theirs, yes, sensation, no action, just reaction, losing track of what they do, just feeling, she opens her eyes to Seven's lust-filled gaze.



22.
Want. Only moments ago, it was a term Seven questioned. But now its meaning fills her, not syllables or letters or phonemes, but sensations--simultaneous power and surrender, sweetness and pain.

She takes Kathryn’s hand, brings it to her own thighs,feels the long fingers begin a slow, inexorable stroking that makes her rock as Neelix is rocking, as Kathryn is rocking, all three moving together, wanting together, releasing. . .Seven’s breath stops, she sees the Captain’s neck arch, her lips open, she is crying out, but Seven hears no words, no sounds, only the siren call of Kathryn’s eyes.



23.
Kathryn's cry reaches into his body, tightening muscles, Seven, then, softer moans, and, as baxat dissolves with his own climax, normal time returns.

The stillness now is not timeless, but a moment before change. Already their bodies shift, seeking easier contact; soon they will rise and bathe and dress. Seven will leave them, Kathryn will leave him--tomorrow for space, later perhaps for Seven, perhaps for no one. All things alive by their nature end. But as he kisses Kathryn, as he watches Seven twist back her pale hair, he knows this moment will last as long as he does.


24.
She closes her eyes once more, the space within as dark and deep as the space to which she will soon return. She sees her ship; she can almost feel the uniform that will cover her body as the warmth of Neelix covers her now. She feels Seven stir, feels Neelix’s lips leave hers, feels the cool air once again upon her skin. Tomorrow --no, today--she will be back in space. Different, yet the same. Empty, yet full in its emptiness, as spaces often are.

Her space.

As she gently touches Neelix, touches Seven, she is already gone.


~~~The End