DISCLAIMER: Star Trek belongs to Paramount/Viacom/etc. I'm just a peon playing around in their backyard and I'm making absolutely no money here, nor is that my intention. This story is rated NC-17 for sexual content. If you're under 18 years old, then move along. You don't belong here.

Just A Glimpse


"Christine ... ?"

The voice was a rich, deep baritone. Quiet, almost a whisper, really. It insinuated itself along neural pathways and raced through her body leaving behind tiny explosions of arousal. She shivered.


"Shhh ... " She stepped further into his quarters, reached up and placed two fingers against his lips, noting again their full sensuality, the incredible softness. Remembering what they could do to her. "No talking. Not now."

He immediately understood and slid one hand up her arm to gently clasp her hand in his, kissing the fingers that stilled him. His other arm slipped around her waist and pulled her to him. The door hissed shut behind her. "As you wish."

Chapel sighed, surrendering totally into the embrace and allowed him to gather her close. She melted into the warmth of him and the strong arms that now wrapped around her completely. She laid her cheek against his chest just above the closure of his robe and inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of him. Spicy, alien, male ... A momentary pang of guilt assuaged her. He had been relaxing, perhaps meditating, and she had pulled him away from it. He had such little free time, his duties were so numerous. But guilt was fleeting as she gave in to other, more urgent emotions. Desire, arousal, need ... She pressed her hips into his and pulled back to look up into his face. Their eyes met, his dark and questioning.

"I burn for thee," she whispered hoarsely in his native tongue, using the one phrase she knew would leave no doubt in his mind.

For an endless moment their gaze held. She saw his pupils dilate slightly and his eyes become darker. She knew the moment he lowered his shields, allowing himself to analyze all that she was projecting toward him. His lips parted and he breathed deep.

"Christine ... "

The next instant she was lifted into his arms and his mouth was on hers, kissing her with light, feathery touches ... gently, tenderly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt herself carried further into the dimly lit room. His lips never completely left hers until they stopped beside the bed. He pulled back then and gazed down at her. His respiration was faster than normal, but his expression was carefully neutral.

"Are you sure you desire this?"

He was giving her an out, one last chance before they went any further, before he became fully aroused and there was a possibility he would not be able to stop what she had begun. It was so like him, that poignantly sweet consideration. Her affection and passion for him almost overwhelmed her in that moment and she reached up to lightly brush the plane of his cheek. She traced the outline of his upswept brow, ultimately ending the caress with her fingers tangled in his thick, dark hair, their tips resting against the curve of his ear.

"I'm sure," she answered huskily.

A last hesitation as he studied the depths of her arresting blue eyes, searching, confirming, then he sighed deeply and captured her mouth with his once again.

His tongue pushed past the soft, unresisting barrier of her lips and he tasted her deeply this time, hungrily, as always struck by the slightly salty, slightly sweet coolness he found there, a dichotomy he had come to associate with the woman herself. Without breaking the kiss he lowered her to the bed and stretched her beneath him, carefully shifting his weight to one side. His fingers found and unfastened the clasp of her uniform tunic and pulled it open, exposing the black regulation tee shirt underneath. Gliding over the soft material, he caressed one full breast then the other and felt her already erect nipples become incredibly taunt beneath his touch. She moaned into his mouth and instinctively ground her hips into him.

The gesture sent a shock wave of arousal through him and his body stirred beneath his robe; hardening, lengthening, readying itself to join with her. Reluctantly, he pulled his lips from hers and gazed down into her face. She looked back at him through half-lidded eyes, her mouth still glistening with moisture, the lips slightly swollen and darker rose in hue. It excited him to see her desire written so plainly on her face and he reached up to brush away a dark tendril of hair. His fingers trembled slightly as they came to rest against her temple.

"May I?"

There was a brief hesitation, then her lips curled into a languid half smile.


Positioning his fingers more precisely, he leaned down to whisper against her ear. "My mind to yours, Christine..."

The meld happened effortlessly, almost instantaneously as his thoughts traveled the now familiar pathways toward the being that was Christine Chapel: friend, savior, T'hy'la. He felt her welcome him as she wrapped his being within her own, her warmth and joy at being with him permeating his senses. For a time he stayed there, basking in her acceptance, letting her emotions wash over him freely and taking them into himself greedily. Then he shifted to deepen the meld and the warmth became heat, a smoldering, desperate burning that threatened to overwhelm him. He gasped, instinctively shielding against it, then instantly gave in, surrendering himself to the wild, undisciplined passion of his Human lover.

Firmly established now, the meld remained as he broke contact and trailed his hand down the length of her torso, gently caressing her as he continued its journey. His fingers caught at the waistband of her trousers and tugged. The hidden seam opened effortlessly and he slipped his fingers past the silk of her panties to the soft mound of her womanhood. Here, the heat and moisture of her body culminated. Watching her face, he began to lightly stroke her, becoming increasingly aroused as she closed her eyes and moaned, her expression contorting almost as if in pain. She arched her back and the movement spread her thighs slightly. Her wetness seeped onto his fingertips and his breath caught in his throat, his pulse pounding in his ears. The humid, dusky smell of her drifted up and filled his senses.

"Please..." she pleaded softly.

He didn't need her urging as he sat up and began pulling off her lower garments, his own breathing coming quick and ragged as she lifted her hips to accommodate him. The thud of her boots hitting the floor as he tossed them aside barely registered and within moments her sex lay naked before him. He reached to touch her again, his other hand going to the belt of his robe and quickly untying it. It fell open as she arched toward him, unashamedly opening herself to him as he slipped one finger just inside. He watched it disappear between her soft folds, mesmerized by the sight and feel of her, feeding off the frenzy of erotic sensations coursing through him from the meld. He looked up and found her eyes watching him, their color a dark and turbulent blue, like the color of her world's deepest oceans.

"Christine..." Her name passed through his lips as if a mantra, caressing each syllable in a low, sensual growl.

She reached up and caught his neck, pulling him down to her.

"Now," she breathed against his lips. "I want you now!"

Her hand went to his groin and frantically parted the folds of his robe, then grasped the hard length of his erection and squeezed. He moaned and she inhaled the sound into herself as she captured his mouth with hers and kissed him deeply. The meld was singing back and forth between them now, pulsing with her need ... his need ... their need, engulfing them both in a flame so intense it threatened to rend their sanity from them. Instantly he was on top of her, his knees nudging her legs farther apart as he positioned himself. Still holding him, she guided the head of his penis to the slick sheath of her vagina, letting go only when he pushed his hips forward.

Trembling with the need to control, he penetrated her slowly, feeling her pliant, cool flesh close around him. As he did, she cried out, jutting her hips up to meet him. His concentration broke and he thrust hard three, then four times, then stilled completely. She groaned and pushed against him, but he gripped her hips firmly and willed her to stop as he broke the kiss and buried his face against her neck. His breath came in rapid, shallow gusts, warm and soft against her sensitized skin.

//"Too soon,"// he sent through the meld. //"Too close!"//

He felt her struggling to calm herself, battling to reign in exquisite shock waves of pleasure as they rippled throughout her body, throughout her mind as he, too, battled to control his own desire. Suddenly, she pushed against him and, in a surprisingly powerful move, rolled him onto his back, pinning him beneath her as she straddled his hips. Firmly grasping his swollen member, she quickly positioned herself and rode him back down to the bed. Breathing heavily, she bent to crush her lips to his and pushed the robe he still wore further apart to expose most of his chest. She raked her nails through the crisp, dark hair, grazing his hard male nipples. //Need!// she sent to him, her mind voice desperate. The battle was lost.

With a small, strangled cry she broke away from him and sat up. Their gazes locked as he watched her frantically pull out of her tunic and toss it over the side of the bed, then took the hem of the tee shirt and stripped it over her head. She reached behind her to unclasp her bra and slid it forward. Her large, firm breasts came into full view, heaving with the effort of her breathing. Continuing to watch him and without conscious thought, her hands slid up her torso and cupped her own breasts, fingertips pulling and rolling the dark pink nipples between them. She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back to expose her throat as she began to grind rhythmically against him, taking him deeper and deeper inside her until he could feel the tip of his penis brush against her cervix.

The sight and feel of her ripped away the last semblance of control. He growled deep in his throat and thrust his pelvis up to meet her, for a brief moment the rhythms of their bodies out of sync, then falling into cadence. He batted her hands away from her breasts and replaced them with his own, kneading the soft flesh against his palms. She leaned into them, quickening her pace, muttering almost unintelligently. "Oh God, oh God, oh God ... !"

Her searing passion raced through him like a jolt of electricity and he began to pound into her powerfully, relentlessly. His hands left her breasts and gripped her hips tightly to him as his thrusts lifted them both off the surface of the bed. In the space of a heartbeat he was at the brink, unable to bite back a shout as he abruptly tensed, his orgasm exploding through him in a blinding white heat. His penis jerked, then throbbed, his seed ejaculating in a flood of hot liquid. Somewhere in the distance he heard her cries of pleasure, then felt her muscles clench down hard around him in the exquisite, sweet pain of her own release. They twitched spasmodically, gripping, then releasing him in quick, rippling succession for several long seconds, sending another unexpected wave of intense pleasure coursing through him. He shuddered against it, groaning loudly. Finally, she collapsed over him and buried her head between his neck and shoulder, her breath coming ragged and hard, her heart beating wildly within her chest and reverberating against his.

For a long time neither of them moved, allowing their bodies to cool in the wake of their lovemaking. After a time he reached around and lightly caressed her shoulders and back, then eased her off of him and pulled her close to his side.

"God, that was ... incredible," Chapel sighed a few minutes later when she was able to speak again.

"You may cease referring me to a deity now, Christine. I find the reference rather ... disturbing."

"What?" She pulled up to look down into his face. A small smile played on his lips and amusement shone in his dark eyes. He was teasing her.

"I am not a god."

She remembered her ranting of a few moments ago and blushed a little, then laughed softly and settled back down beside him.

"Could have fooled me," she said quietly.

They fell silent again. Absently, he played with the tendrils of hair at her temple, alternately pulling them lightly, then smoothing them down. He had questions, as he always did when she came to him, but he didn't ask her. She would tell him when she was ready. There was one question, however, he needed to have answered.

"How long?"

She sighed heavily. "I have to be back on duty in less than twelve hours. I'm ... sorry," she finished softly.

He turned his head to look at her and found her eyes watching him. Tears glistened, threatening to spill onto her cheeks. He brushed at them tenderly.

"Regret has never been a part of our relationship, Christine. Nor should it begin now. The time we have together is too precious to squander on such unproductive sentiment. It is--"

"Illogical, I know," Chapel finished for him. She held his gaze a moment longer, then looked away with a nod. "You're right. I just wish it could be different."

"Perhaps one day it will be," he responded, trying to reassure her. "Until then, take joy in what we have."

She cuddled closer and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I think I'm falling in love with you," she sighed, teasing, but also very serious. When he didn't reply, she closed her eyes and relaxed against him. What was there to say? It had already been said a long time ago and she understood his silence.

He held her as she drifted into sleep, taking pleasure in the sound of her steady breathing and the press of her weight against him. He studied her peaceful features a long time, committing each soft contour, each tiny line to memory.

It could be months, perhaps longer, before they were together again. It had become the pattern of his existence. He did not resent it. Resentment would be illogical. It simply was. And it was an existence far better than the one before Christine had become an intimate part of his life. Then, he'd been consumed with duty and obligations that left him almost barren inside, slowly suffocating his spirit, that part of himself that made him unique. She had given him back the man of his youth. After so many years, he was finding peace within himself. And the value of that peace was beyond price.

Shifting carefully, he brought Christine still closer in his embrace. He would let her sleep for a while before waking her and starting the pleasure agin. He planned to take her as many times as she would permit this night, until they were both completely sated and prepared to face the months of loneliness ahead. Envisioning her back on the Enterprise, he wondered if the other would even have missed her and realized he couldn't know. She would not speak of it now, would not allow him to touch that part of herself in a meld, not since that near disastrous first time. In time he had come to understand why she kept that part of herself unreachable, untouchable, inconsolable. It was because she could do little else, and he accepted this. He sighed. Just as he could not prevent himself from wanting her or control the sometimes desperate ache to bond with her, to make her totally and completely his. It was an impasse.

He turned his mind away from these troubling thoughts and buried his face against her neck. He inhaled deeply, taking her scent into himself, letting it suffuse his whole being. Time was slipping away. He could feel its urgency pressing against him. He flicked out his tongue to taste her, then covered the moist spot with his lips. Time to wake her, time to show her what it truly meant to be loved by a Vulcan.

Stevinh Cha'Sulan D'Kar, formerly of Vulcan and now of Antares III, kissed the object of that love and brought her to full awaking.