I'VE ONLY GOT EYES FOR YOU
by Angelina Vansen (angelina@gunmetaldark.com)

RATING: R
CODES: J/C/7
SUMMARY: Series of drabbles based on Janeway, Chakotay and Seven's post-threesome thoughts. There is comfort in the eye of the hurricane.

The peach light of my quarters, the softness of her breath on my cheek. Gazing at her perfection. She doesn't need to worry, not my sweet Annika. She's sheltered in my arms, she is sheltered by the sleek hull of my ship. It's alright, darling, I'm in charge here. I'm the Captain. She smells of powder, clean powder, lightly perfumed. Baby powder. The perfect pink of her lips, pouting as she breathes. The life I gave her. Coursing through her, running through her long blue veins. Her rose white beauty, her beating heart, the life I gave back to her.

She has needed my perfection, all these years. She drinks me in, she breathes me in. Clings to me. She doesn't need to worry any more. I will shield her with my body, I will shield her with my excellence. Don't worry, Kathryn, we are Borg. I kiss the freckles on her shoulder, ginger and milk, each sweet like a crumb from those caramel brownies that she likes so much, warmed by the replicator. The joy I gave her. Smiling that sunny smile, sighing as I brush across her nipples with my fingertips. The life I gave back to her.

Lying sated, in her sheets. Her thighs, twined with mine, her arms around Seven, stroking her. It's alright, Kathryn, we're all adults. I'll keep this from the crew, I'll keep this from Tom Paris. No-one needs to know you whimper when you're coming. She smells strongly of magnolia and her flesh is honey-sweet. I could spend all night nibbling the silken flesh of her neck. The love she's given me. The revelation. The sweet mysteries of making love to your Captain. Tender skin beneath the uniform. The life she took from me, the new life she gave back to me.

THE END

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