The BLTS Archive- Sprawl by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net) --- Disclaimers: You know the drill. I don't own any of them, I only wish I did. --- I've seen her asleep before, of course. On New Earth, behind a vaguely transparent partition. In sickbay, vulnerable and pale on a biobed. At those times, she slept in a dignified manner befitting a Starship Captain -- her head on the pillow, her limbs gracefully positioned. Not like this at all. This morning, in the still-dim light of my quarters, she is sprawled diagonally across my bed on her stomach. One leg is stretched out, her toes dangling delicately off one side of the bed -- the other leg is bent. Her cheek rests on the back of one hand, and her other arm is draped over the opposite edge of the bed. The sheet has slipped down to her waist, exposing her bare back. Her hair, which looks much redder than usual against her pale skin, tumbles over a freckled shoulder. She has freckles on her shoulder. She is utterly and completely relaxed. Completely at peace. She is glorious. I could watch her like this all day. I am indescribably happy. Not just about last night, although it was everything I always imagined it would be. But mostly I am happy because the woman stretched languorously across my bed does not look at all like a woman who's going to wake up spouting protocol. But appearances can be deceiving, and she has fooled me before. I could be wrong. It's time to find out. Taking a deep breath, I reach for her. I place my hand gently on the small of her back and slowly move it, applying firm pressure across her spine, over her shoulder blade, up onto the back of her neck. It's an underhanded maneuver, but I am not above using the woman's natural sensuality against her. I need every advantage I can get. Her skin feels cool and smooth beneath my touch. Her eyes flutter open, and I hold my breath. I see her eyes widen as she realizes where she is and what she has done. I freeze. I'm sure my heart has stopped. I'm sure she's going to recoil. I'm sure she's going to close herself off from me forever. I'm sure I will never be happy again. Then, she moves. She shifts slowly onto her side and, as I watch, a smile quirks across her lips. "Good morning," she says, her voice even huskier than usual when she first wakes up. My heart begins to beat again, and I let all of my breath out at once. "Yes it is," I agree, once adequate oxygen has returned to my brain. I decide to return her smile but realize, abruptly, that it's too late. I'm already smiling. Grinning like a complete idiot, in fact. We regard each other warmly for a few moments and all of my fears fade away. She runs her fingers across my tattoo, tracing it back into my hair, with the satisfied look of someone who's wanted to do that for a very long time. As for me, I finally get to indulge my desire to touch those perfect freckles on her shoulder. "Is it time for us to have a little talk?" I ask, conversationally. She smirks. "I don't talk to anyone, even you, until I've had my coffee," she tells me firmly. My breath catches as she brings her hand around to my face, and brushes her thumb over my lips. "Would you like me to bring you some?" I ask her, barely getting the last words out as she moves her hand down my neck to my chest, and begins to lightly caress my nipples with her fingertips. "Later," she whispers. She rolls onto her back and gently tugs at me until I am lying on top of her. She moves beneath me and I moan, softly. "God, Kathryn, do you have any idea how sexy you are?" I ask. "Mmmm," she hums, absently. "Oh!" she adds, as I brush my lips against her throat. I stop for a moment and look down at my Captain, my lover, my Kathryn. I look carefully at her eyes, but find no trace of doubt or reluctance there -- only acceptance, love and desire. "You are so beautiful," I tell her again, unable, despite my best efforts, to keep the emotion out of my voice and the tears out of my eyes. "I..." But apparently she is quite serious about the 'no talking before coffee' rule, because she snakes her fingers behind my neck and pulls my head down to hers, locking onto my lips with her own. She writhes seductively beneath me once more. She's right. Talking can wait. Definitely. -- The End.