The Hunt (1/?)

A/N:  This story is third in the Dark Beauty series about two Star Trek Mirrorverse original characters, Sheila Stephens and her Vulcan husband, K’avir.  While “The Hunt” can stand alone, reading the first two stories, “Combat” and “Feenin’” will provide a great deal of context.  You can find these two fics underneath the “Sheila & K’avir” tab on my menu bar.  One does not need to be a Trekkie to appreciate this story.  

I own nothing Star Trek related.  Any characters you don't recognize are my intellectual property.  This story is for mature audiences only.  If the subject matter makes you uncomfortable, feel free to stop reading at any time.  Comments are welcome and flames will be used to roast my Thanksgiving turkey.  --Amaya

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          Sheila sat on the edge of the bed and dried her hair.  She smiled as she watched her new husband perform his morning ablutions, wearing nothing but his gray Imperial-issue sweats.  They’d been officially married for two days, and the captain elected to give them three days’ honeymoon.  It was spent in quiet, seductive peace and it was a time of learning more about one another.  They shared breakfast in the officer’s dining room, sampling various items from each other’s culture.  Then they would have a lesson in the gym, including hand-to-hand combat and instruction in the use of Sheila’s tachi.  Then they returned to her quarters and Sheila took a nap.  K’avir was content to hold her as she slept with his head on her chest.  He would go get their lunch and have it ready when she woke up.  Then they spent the rest of the afternoon and evening talking, making love, and engaging in other intimate behaviors.  

K’avir read pre-reform Vulcan poetry to her from a large, old, leather-like bound text.  Sheila listened to him, enraptured at the beauty of the words and how wonderful they sounded from his lips.  He summarized the content of each poem after reading and Sheila bombarded him with questions, as she wanted to learn the language.  He was patient and sometimes would hold her mouth to guide her enunciation.  He also told her about his life on Vulcan and all about his family.  In return, Sheila shared with him her history and details about human experience.  She taught him how to touch her and how to show his affection without sex.  She took down her braids shortly after the bonding ceremony, and K’avir, entranced with her hair, helped her after she showed him how to unwind a braid.  She washed her hair and he helped, awestruck at the feel of gobs of shampoo and her hair between his fingers.  He expressed interest in painting her toenails after watching her do it.  She showed him some of the secrets of her femininity and it did not take him long to revel in it.  

They had dinner in their suite and afterwards, sat together in the big chair; her on his lap.  Sometimes they were quiet, and sometimes Sheila talked about random events that took place in Medical Bay.  It was a fascinating concept; being married.  For so long, life on the ISS-E was a place where women were treated like property or were victims and anything even remotely resembling a full life was laughable.  The idea of marriage was unheard-of until the captain’s wife, Nyota, arrived and changed everything.  Sheila was now the second married woman on board the starship, and if things kept on the way they were, she would not be the last.  There were 260 women on board the Enterprise and 140 men.  Twenty-two of the men were Vulcan, and, inspired by Sheila’s unconventional romance with K’avir, other women were staking their claims.  Captain Spock once claimed that Vulcans were immune to the charms of human females, but made a liar out of himself the moment Nyota appeared in the transporter room.  K’avir was no exception, so Sheila’s circle of girlfriends knew it was possible to win the heart of a Vulcan.

She looked up just as he emerged from the bathroom, tugging on one of his ears.  She loved his ears; the tips of them felt marvelous on her tongue.

       “What would you like to do with your hair today, k’diwa?” K’avir asked.  He was fascinated by her hair.

“I think I may wear it in its natural state for a little while.”  Sheila spent the last day conditioning her hair after taking down her braids.

K’avir nodded.  “Would you like to have breakfast in our quarters this morning?”

Sheila smiled at him.  He’d become a little more verbose within the past couple of weeks, but only with her and only in private.  “I don’t feel like getting dressed, and it’s the last day of our honeymoon.  I want to stay in the entire day and stare into your beautiful eyes.”

She was teasing, but K’avir had no sense of humor.  “Sheila, I do not mind staying in our quarters for the day, but I do think that your suggestion would be unproductive. There are other things we can do to maximize our remaining time together.”

          Sheila smiled at him as he put on his uniform.  “I was teasing, K’avir.  We can do whatever you want.  I just want to be with you.  Tomorrow we have to return to a normal life.”

          He nodded his head.  “I shall return with your breakfast,” he said.  “Do you have a preference?”

          “No.  I’m starving.  Whatever you bring, bring a lot.”

          He nodded again.  “As you wish.”  Then he left their quarters.  Sheila got up and went to her dresser to moisturize her hair.  She quickly twisted it into six thick plaits and slipped on one of K’avir’s Imperial-issued T-shirts.  It was something that they both discovered he liked the first time he saw her in one.  Then she made the bed and cleared the table so that they could have their meal.  She sat down and waited for him, smiling to herself as she wondered about her girlfriends.  Sheila knew they were dying to know details about her honeymoon.  She’d share a little bit of information, but not too much.  She, like Nyota, was not inclined to divulge too much information about her husband.

          Then her thoughts turned to the captain’s wife.  She was Sheila’s patient, but was currently under Shawn’s care.  Nyota was three and a half months pregnant, and she’d suffered a uterine injury that required constant vigilance.  Captain Spock made sure that Nyota was taken care of, and if she didn’t want to put a toe out of bed, she didn’t have to.  He’d promoted one of the lieutenants to command the communications console so that Nyota and the baby could heal.  Sheila made it a point to check on her the moment she returned to work.  Nyota and her unborn child meant everything to the women on board the ISS-E.

          K’avir rolled in breakfast and Sheila took a deep breath.  Captain Spock retained the gourmet chefs on the advice of his senior officers.  They prepared decadent meals and there was even a Vulcan chef who catered to those with Vulcan tastes.  K’avir removed the tray covers and Sheila deep-breathed again.  The Vulcan entrees consisted of lirs, a grain dish similar to tabbouleh, warm kreyla bread, a bowl of hirat, which were juicy, fat black grapes, and plomeek soup.  He also brought boiled eggs, hash browns, watermelon salad and turkey bacon and sausage.  He always brought a lot of food; Sheila was not surprised to learn that K’avir had a healthy appetite.  He was big and fine; he needed to eat to maintain his physique.  She had always known him to eat only breakfast, but he began taking afternoon and evening meals with her shortly after the debacle with Julian Matthews.  It was then that everyone learned that the ship’s physician and the security chief were involved.

          The breakfast was delicious and afterwards, they sat in their chair and K’avir’s hand idly moved up and down her thigh.  He’d removed his uniform at her request and put back on his sweatpants.

          “Sheila, I must speak with you.”

          “Speak,” she said, as her fingers moved along his collarbone.

          “My time of…illogic…will be upon me soon.”

          “How soon?”

          “I cannot say.  I just know it to be so.”

          “How will I know?”

          “I cannot say, Sheila.  I did not experience my last pon farr; I was able to isolate myself and meditate my way through it.  But before I met you, I was celibate.  I have resisted the need for many years and channeled my energy into my duty.  I will not be able to do that now.”

          “I understand.”

          “I do not wish to hurt you.”

          Sheila looked into his eyes.  “You won’t hurt me, honey.”

          “I will not be myself.  I could be like an animal.  I will be driven by nothing but a primal need to mate with you.  All that was once restrained will be unleashed…upon you.  You must utilize whatever is at your disposal to keep me at bay, even though you will not be able to.”

          “I can handle it, K’avir.  I’m not afraid.”  She was a little, but it was more of her own response to K’avir’s words.  Who was she at her core, really?

          “Still, I would like for you to be prepared.  I do not know how my…symptoms…will present themselves, so I cannot warn you.  But if you feel that things are…different…between us, then you must put distance between us immediately.  Do you understand?”

          Sheila nodded.  “I understand.”

tbc...


Soundtrack:  
Massive Attack: "Mezzanine," "Dissolved Girl (Remix)," & "Black Milk"