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It’d been an hour since his shift ended. He spent his time with Azarah, the Exarch of Order. She was a beautiful creature and made him feel desired again. It was something that he’d been lacking for the longest time - it felt like. Gideon frowned and pushed to his feet after waiting at the dining room table for Marielle to come home. He tapped his badge. “Salieri to Deniaud. What’s your ETA?” The half-Bajoran began to pace the living room. He was sure she was flirting with all of the engineers. ‘Especially Otretal. Dannazione donna.’
“It’ll be a few hours at least,” came her hurried reply. The chaotic sounds of engineering filled the speakers. “For frak’s sake, Esdan! I told you not to touch the metaphasic flow!”
“I’m sorry, Ellie!” whined the young Betazoid researcher. His voice was heavy with exhaustion.
Marielle’s sigh soon followed. “Okay- Stop touching me. I’m not going to hug you every time you feel bad- Go reconnect the tertiary tetryon filament. I’ll take care of the metaphasic-”
‘I knew it,’ he seethed inwardly. The security chief clenched his hands into his pockets and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Dinner’s getting cold!” he snapped over the open communication. “You can’t get away for an hour?”
There was a stutter to the chaotic sounds of engineering as it suddenly turned to a soft murmur, as if the officers had been pulled from their duties by the sudden shout. “Get back to work,” she called out to the officers, though her voice had lost the strength it carried only seconds prior. The volume of her words dipped and a slight static sound filled the speakers, as if her hands were covering the communication device over her chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, a plea etched into her tone. “But, it’s absolute chaos here, Gideon. I can’t get away. We’re desperately trying to keep our systems from overheating. I just- I can’t. I have to stay. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Please.”
“It’ll be the same chaos whether you’re there for an hour or not,” he growled in response. The sounds of clattering plates and silverware filled her comm badge as Gideon roughly gathered the meal he’d prepared - a simple spaghetti with vodka cream sauce - and put it into containers for later.
“But, I’m a department head. I’m expected to be here for them- with them. I can’t just leave,” she countered. There was a pause. “You’ve been working late lately,” she added. There was a tremor to her voice that spoke and the way she said the word ‘work’ indicated that she thought otherwise, though there was no accusation. “It’ll just be for while the Dumoe are here. Everything will go back to normal, I swear.”
“Ellie!” called out a male voice. “The counselor’s looking for you! He says they’re still having problems with the incubation center you’ve set up in the arboretum.”
He snarled and nearly threw the plate that once contained the spaghetti. “You said that when you were getting ready for the conference, and when we encountered the natives on Verex VII, and on Askyria V, and then, and then! Everything will go back to normal, you swear!”
“Gideon, I’m sorry- I can’t right now. Erik needs me. I really-”
“Ellie! There’s a problem with the fluidic eisilium shell!”
“I’m coming!” her voice called out in response. “I’m sorry, Gid. I really have to go. I love you.” A soft chirp filled the speakers and the communication ended before she could get a chance to hear his response.
The porcelain shattered into the sink and he stepped back, turning to the door. “I need you! Cagna diavolo!” Gideon left the plate and stalked out of their shared quarters. There was no thought to his rolled up sleeves, linen lounge pants, or bare feet. At first, his idea was to storm into Engineering and drag Marielle home. ‘A shot of whisky first.’ The half-Betazoid adjusted his course to the Apollo lounge. He pushed into the space and made his way directly to the bar.
The main lounge on Deck 20 was practically filled to capacity. The Dumoe wandered in and out of the space as they settled into their home-away-from home. The air was hot and humid to accommodate the Aldrin’s guests, all in an effort of making a good first impression and to hopefully gain a new ally. Noise filled the usually spacious room with laughter and general chatter.
The foreign males stood tall, their posture telling of their tension as they made themselves taller than they already were. They easily towered over the humanoids who normally worked and lived on the Starship vessels. All the Dumoe females seemed to carry the same regale stature, a powerful stance that was softened by their beauty. Their golden eyes swept over the space as if if searching for someone of interest and many fell on the newcomer who had stalked towards the bar.
He glowered at no one in particular as he found an empty barstool and sat up onto it. His hands swept over his arms to push the tunic sleeves down and his back hunched as he leaned over the counter. Gideon lifted his gaze to the bartender as he moved around behind the bar.
“Usual?” Algerone - Big Al - asked Gideon as he hurried gathered ten glasses and instantly filled them.
“Double,” he muttered to confirm two shots. His irritation was enough to warrant the extra liquor.
He grabbed the nearest whiskey bottle and simply slammed it onto the bar counter in front of the security chief. A clean crystal glass soon joined the order. “Just pour yourself your order and put back the bottle,” Al proclaimed without sparing the half-Bajoran a glance. He rushed off with the ten filled glasses on a tray.
Gideon scoffed quietly and picked up the bottle. He pulled the stopper and poured a full glass. The half-Bajoran set the bottle back on the bartop with no intention of putting it back. He lifted the crystal tumbler and took a long gulp.
He caught her eye because he was handsome, with his defined jaw and stunning eyes. His hair looked soft, and she wondered what it would be like to run her fingers through the slightly wavy strands. She remembered being told of his old life - the “Italian Stallion,” he was once called - and how he had given it all up for the Chief of Theoretical Sciences and Research. It was a bit of a gamble, but she picked up her drink and moved from the table she occupied. She carried the bottle of beer in her hand and silently slid onto the gap between the barstool he occupied and one used by a Dumoe evacuee. Jessica Sutton was a crewman, a petty officer by rank and a medic by profession. She was not a stunning beauty by any means, but she was still a pretty woman. Sweet and soft spoken, she was liked but not very well-known amongst the crew. Her dark brown hair ringlets reached past her shoulders and nearly black eyes gave her a subtle mysterious appearance. She feigned waiting for the bartender and purposefully bumped her abundant chest into his shoulder, spilling her beer onto Gideon’s lap. Her eyes widened with her gasp. “Oh! I’m sorry!”
He jumped, nearly slipping off the stool as the beer soaked into his pants. “Great!” he barked in his irritation. Muddled cobalt lifted as he glared at the culprit, though the harshness in his eyes softened as he slowly traced her form. The sight of her curves reminded him of an ache that had been overlooked. ‘I bet she knows how to use those hips.’ Gideon paused at the thought and blinked, finally lifted his eyes to meet hers. A personality that had long been buried surged forward into his subconscious as he debated the possibilities.
Jessica gave him a shy smile, her cheeks turning pink as her gaze locked with his. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice nearly dipping to a whisper. There was a slight rasp to the contralto that came naturally to her. “It’s a bit busy in here.” Her hand rested on his bicep as someone pushed into her back in an attempt to wave down Algerone. Her head swayed forward, her hair tickling at his cheek. “See,” she whispered in his ear, her lips ghosting over the shell. It was difficult not to feel excited at their proximity. She’d seen him far afar and knew he was off limits. Perhaps it was the alcohol that coursed through her veins that gave her the courage to approach when she normally didn’t. “Jessica Sutton. Medical,” she introduced herself.
His eyelids fluttered closed and a deep breath filled his lungs with her scent, sweet and earthy gardenia and rainfall. It was highlighted by the smooth aroma of whisky. ‘Gods, that’s what I’m talking about.’ Gideon missed the hint of bourbon on Marielle’s lips and he couldn’t help but wonder how Jessica would taste with the amber on her tongue. The half-Bajoran blinked at the stray thought and shook his head. “Gideon Salieri,” he murmured as he pushed the glass of whisky toward her.
Another bump had her falling forward and her other hand fell onto his lap to steady herself. Her fingers curled over his thigh, her touch falling fairly high and close to his most intimate of parts. Her laugh was quiet and demure. “At this rate, the next bump may have my face falling into your lap,” she whispered. When she licked her suddenly dry lips, her tongue brushed against his ear. Pink coloured her cheeks. “My quarters aren’t far from here- Want to get some air? I could at least get you out of your pants and get you a drink to make up for my klutziness.”
‘That wouldn’t be a terrible thing.’ Gideon picked up the glass of whisky and finished the tumbler in three gulps. He sighed at the burn that snaked down his throat and turned his head to look at Jessica again. There was no flinch as their noses brushed and he studied her eyes. They were dark and inviting. “Yeah,” he whispered, unaware of the reaction his body had to the medical officer. Her fingers made his skin sensitive, causing jolts of energy to gather into his core. The half-Bajoran hummed quietly in anticipation and the corner of his lip pulled up into a smile. ‘This could be a good thing.’
Her chin dipped with a nod and she dared to slide her hand into his to lead him out of the Apollo lounge. Once they crossed the threshold, she hesitated but eventually released him. Shyness immediately took hold of her. Away from the humidity within the lounge, the cool air filled her lungs and seemed to remind her of what she was about to do and hoped to gain. “Deck 19,” she informed him softly as she led the way to the turbolift. Her hands lifted the collection of ringlets so that the air could kiss her warm neck. “Gods. It was hot in there,” she attempted in conversation just as they entered the lift.
As soon as the door closed, he turned and lifted his hand to grip her by the neck. Gideon leaned close and pressed his lips to hers, intent on tasting the liquor on her tongue. He hovered over her, pushing her back into the wall. His other hand rested on her shoulder. There was no thought of the woman in Engineering who was his fiance, no guilt in the idea of becoming intimate with someone who was not his intended. There was a base need that required sating - Marielle knew it and chose work instead. Alcohol assisted his own choice, but that didn’t make it any less his own.
There was no moan or soft sigh of contentment. There was no hesitation. No thought to the fact that she was kissing another woman’s fiance. No guilt or concern for what it meant. Jessica simply closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of his lips against her own. The medic had no idea that it could have been so easy. Excitement surged and her hands timidly moved down to rest on his abdomen and at his side while her lips timidly moved against his, pressing back. When they broke for air, she smiled lazily up at him. Desire easily gathered in her gut. When the door opened, she let her gaze dip to one side and her hand found his. She was careful as she glanced out into the hallway to ensure it was clear. Quickly, she pulled him towards her quarters, always stopping at the intersections to check for passersby.
He was focused and showed no thought to the implications of his actions. Giddy had reared his ugly head and prey was in sight. The half-Bajoran followed Jessica into her quarters, pushing insistently through her excited giggles as they descended into lust. His beer soaked pants were left near the door, his shirt draped over the couch. They paused their heated kisses and fondling long enough to down a shot each of vodka before continuing into the bedroom.