Title: Let the Captain have some dignity

Author: Mistress Sarah

FANDOM: CRUSADE

Summary: John and Matt meet up again.

Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They are owned, copyrighted and created by far wiser people than me. I have attempted to bring them back to life for a short time, attempting to ease that gaping hole in my heart where B5/Crusade once was.

Note: John Matheson; Matthew Gideon. NC-17. m/m. Angst.

Archiving: Iocane and the WWOMB archive

Series: Part six of 6 of the "Karma" series

Rating: NC-17

Karma VI: Let The Captain Have Some Dignity
by Mistress Sarah

"Let the Captain have some Dignity, shall we?"

"Ok. St. John, Dags, you set up the ropes. Dr. Zbignewski, bring the package with the Stokes basket, we'll probably need to set it up." O'Neill was snapping orders right and left and I gave him a bemused smile. "Sorry, Lt. Commander." He whispered that softly.

"Knot to worry. I don't want to interfere with your ropes." I told him dryly. He winced at the pun, and for a moment, I found myself really liking O'Neill. He *was* like a terrier, good-natured normally but also fierce, loyal and quick to defend those he deemed worthy. A good man, after all, even if at first, he hadn't trusted me. Not that I'd ever tell him that I approved of him, he'd probably be horrified. Tommy was a career military man, that was all he had ever tried to be and certainly he HAD never tried to be a hero. Probably that's why he was one.

-=-=-=-=-=

O'Neill warned us not to enter the room until he had secured it, and I saw that Dureena was right behind him. When they cleared it, Vladi was the first person into the room, and I heard him mumble something loudly in Russian. "My dear . . . God . . . " his voice sounded strange and for once his enthusiasm had disappeared.

"What?" I asked.

"It's not pretty. Warn everyone. It's really not pretty at all. The squeamish better stay outside."

I entered next, and I felt like vomiting. He was there, naked and bloody, pinned to a circle with nails that pierced his feet and hands. Wearing a crown of thorns, he appeared to be dead, except for the fact that he was still breathing shallowly. Scrawled beneath him was a warning to EF, warning of God's wrath to those that tried to cure His divine plague.

Looking closely, I saw that Matthew had wept recently, possibly during our last mental conversation, when he had known we were nearby. But he had decided to let go of the pain, and he wasn't responding to my mental probe. Before he died, Matthew had wanted my forgiveness, and I had given it. Did that mean that since he finally believed that I had forgiven him that Matthew was letting himself die?

[MATTHEW!] I kept screaming that at the bloody figure mentally, and I heard nothing from him.

Dureena checked quickly the area around the circle. "It's safe. Let's get him the hell down."

=-=-=-=

There were others in the room. They seemed upset with what they were seeing, and for a moment, I wondered if I should make the effort to let them know that I could hear them.

No.

Let's not.

It was probably them. Back again. Just to see if I was still here, hanging around. Yup. I was. Nothing better to do on a Saturday night.

For a moment, I thought I heard a familiar voice screaming my name, mentally, but I ignored it. Just another trick. There would be no way that particular person would be nearby. Nor would he ever be using that tone of voice with me, soft, compassionate and full of love for me. Not after what I had done to him. He thought I hated him, and so he had fled from me.

The pain through my wrists was incredible, as my weight was pulling down on my arms. Pain. I felt someone grab me by my pelvis, and I moaned, despite my vow not to utter a sound. That had really irked them, in the beginning. They'd inflict pain, and I'd do everything I could to remain mute. Stupid, stupid me. The only thing remaining mute did was to annoy them. So they'd hurt me again and again, until I'd weep from the pain. But I didn't beg them to stop; I had too much pride for them to think that they had beaten ME.

No more pain, please. No more. I just couldn't handle any more. Let me die in peace, I begged whoever might be listening. Suddenly, I felt strong arms supporting me, trying to relieve the pressure on my wrists by supporting the weight of my body.

"Can we get him off the wheel?" "He might have c-spine injuries." "Take the wheel off the wall." "He's septic." "Dehydrated too." "Vladi! Careful! They might have broken his pelvis." A thousand and one voices were having a rather noisy conversation, probably dealing with whoever the hell was hanging on the wall, trying to die. I wish he would finish dying so I'd get some rest. He was being so damn noisy about it, screaming for forgiveness from somebody who wasn't really there.

I was tempted to ask them all to shut up so that poor guy could PLEASE die in peace. Least before they showed up, it had been rather peaceful and quiet except when he got noisy and begged for forgiveness from a ghost. He would scream hysterically, wailing for forgiveness, and I think that at last he had gotten it, as I had heard someone weeping in gratitude while whispering repeatedly "Thank you." Let the poor guy die, already, quietly with his dignity retained.

It wasn't quiet now, as it sounded like they were having a damn party. God! Here I was completely naked, and they're having a damn party. "Careful! Careful!" "Take the circle down, we can lay him flat." "He might go into respiratory arrest. He's got a flailed chest. Lungs' sounds diminished. Probably a hemopneumothorax." "Make the decision quickly. I can't stand here all day supporting him." "Take the wheel down." "Listen. I have to let go of you." "Take the wheel down and be ready for a chest tube." "This is going to hurt more." "There's no other way." There was an ungodly noise, and the damn circle was shaking. "Careful with that blasted saw, Michael!"

Then whoever it was, holding me let go of me, carefully, trying to ease me back into position and I gasped with the return of pain to my wrists. I was falling, falling, falling, falling. Couldn't breathe. Lying? On the Floor? Holding me down. CAN'T BREATHE? CAN'T BREATHE? "No anesthesia. Just place the tube and do it now." Can't breathe? Pain. Something slammed into my side. "A good job. The tube's in place. Matt! You should be able to breathe easily now!" [Sarah? Dureena? JOHN??? Who the hell were the other voices?] I can breathe again. Oh God, I can breathe again. "Ok. I'm taking these things out of his wrists." "Getting the ones from his legs."

PAIN. PAIN. I gasped, slightly, and I head someone whisper "I'm truly sorry, Captain." That was a male voice, one that I didn't recognize. Possibly because he was using something mechanical to get the damn nails out. The sound of the machinery filled my ears, and I realized that he was having a devil of a time getting them out. Pain. PAIN.

Captain? I was a Captain? REALLY? Then why the hell was I here? Instead of being out captaining something someplace? Wasn't that what Captains did? They didn't hang on the bridge's walls like decorations, now did they? I think not. Wouldn't be respectable, especially if they were completely and totally naked like I was. Even though I knew them to be nothing more than hallucinations, I really wanted to ask why the hell they didn't cover me up with something. Unless they were all gawking and staring in awe at the Captain's physique.

"Here!" Spoken by a male with an Irish brogue. "Let the Captain have some dignity, shall we?" Something was now covering me. Blankets? Apparently being a Captain rated blankets, and I hadn't even had to remind them. Nice to know that while the rest of the group was busy staring at my "attribute," that the Irish guy was keeping an eye on the important stuff, like blankets. Wonderful, warm blankets that covered my naked and shattered body. I made a mental note that since I was a *Captain* that I'd nominate that Irish guy for a Medal of Honor or something. Biting my lip, I prevented myself from giggling at the mental thought of what the reaction would be to me nominating a figment of my imagination for the Medal of Honor.

The voices continued, while I kept my eyes shut, fearing this was a rather realistic hallucination. John simply couldn't be here, snapping orders like a drill sergeant. That guy up on the wall must be a horrible mess, as John's voice was very tightly controlled. My XO . . . my former XO only used that particular voice when something had him rattled to the very depths of his soul. It was one of his little endearing personality quirks that I had noted over the years. I had noticed a lot of things about John over the years, but I had never noticed that my XO was in love with me . . .

"Splinting both legs and arms." "Apparent bilateral distal tib-fib fractures. And they've managed to shatter the distal radials and ulnas." "We're looking at a hell of a lot of surgery here. Ortho, Vascular, Plastics. Anyone good with plastics on the Dya?" "Got some experience, I'll able to take care of the burns on his chest, but for the face, I'd prefer to ship him out. How about the Excalibur?" "No. Not for this."

Excalibur? I just KNEW that name for some reason. For a moment, I opened my eyes, dizzily, and I saw someone that looked familiar. Dark hair, female, dark eyes?

"Sarah?" I whispered, but she didn't hear me, so I closed my eyes again. She wasn't really there, afterall. Just a feverish hallucination I was having. Then I felt pain, as someone was trying to remove something from my head. Whoever it was, was really trying to be careful, but I could still feel everything. I dizzily opened my eyes, expecting to see no one there, and I looked into the deep green eyes of a stranger who wore an EF uniform. Noticing that I was looking at him, he gave me a gentle smile and whispered at me to go to sleep.

It was the Irish male again, and he looked somewhat familiar, with a nose that had been broken a few too many times in a few too many bar fights to be ever set completely straight again. BAR FIGHTS? Where the hell did that thought come from? I must be *completely* off my rocker, imagining Irish leprechauns, blankets and bar fights.

"Damnable thorns" he whispered at me again. "Close your eyes, laddie. You can rest now, as the reinforcements have finally arrived."

I closed my eyes, grateful that the hallucinations I was having were of the pleasant variety. So I must be dying, but at least, I was surrounded by the voices of the people I had considered friends, and the visions of a few stray EF personnel.

=-=-=-=-=-
Thirty minutes later.

"Is he stable enough to transport?" O'Neill asked the doctors who were still treating Gideon. He was carefully removing the crown of thorns from Matthew's head, and he was obviously sickened by the damage they had left. I had heard him murmuring softly to Matthew, assuring him repeatedly that he was finally safe. The doctors had put a chest tube in and had done quite a few other things to stabilize Matthew's critical condition. All their procedures had been done without the benefit of any type of anesthesia with barely a moan from their patient, which had Vladi shaking his head in disbelief. During Matt's medical treatment, the two people on the team with a mechanical bent, Dags and St. John, had managed to get Matthew the hell off that circle. I had been mentally screaming at Matthew to get some sort of response from him, but he was ignoring us all, firmly believing us a hallucination. All my fault. ALL MY FAULT, I kept screaming at myself. If I hadn't left, this wouldn't have happened.

"Not really" admitted Sarah.

"But we can't do much more here. We need to get him back to Medbay." Vladi asserted. "I'm giving him a sedative right now, but I'm going to have to watch his airway as we take him down in the stokes."

"The Stokes has been set up. Here's the order. The Captain is going to go down first. I'm suggesting Dr. Zbignewski, Lt. Commander Matheson and I be the relay team going down with him. Dr. Zbignewski" he continued over Chambers' objections, "has rope experience. Which you don't, Madam. Bringing down a patient in one of these things, I need *experienced* people. Not a novice, no matter how willing, and no matter how LIGHT she is." He scowled at Vladi, who was easily 6'6"+ and solidly built. "Lt. Commander Matheson, at least has some experience with the ropes, and he'll go down with Captain Gideon so the Captain has someone he knows with him. I'll be with them to keep them out of trouble."

"What about me? You're not leaving me back here" Dureena asked him. "I'll go down too."

"No. You have to stay here and keep the young 'uns out of trouble. I won't be able to do it. Then you are to have Dags, St. John and Dr. Chambers follow us. You make up the rest of the landing order, but I want Dr. Chambers on the ground within ten minutes of us landing. You are to be the last person down."

Gideon had been heavily drugged but still he fought like a wildcat when they tied him to the stretcher, ignoring the shattered bones in his wrists and feet. For a moment, I got a burst of terror, and I reached for him, mentally, while everyone started speaking at once, trying to calm him down. Meanwhile, he fought and screamed, refusing to be restrained by O'Neill and St. John. He didn't realize it was US. He thought we were his captors, returning for him again. I ordered everyone to shut up as I realized that the various voices were terrifying him even more.

[MATTHEW! STOP IT! STOP IT NOW!] I touched the side of his face, directing that thought at him.

[J-j-john? Is that really you?] The voice was full of terror and fear.

[Who else could it be?] I tried to be warm, assuring him that I was here. [Dureena and Chambers are here too. Plus a few other good souls from the Dya and the Excalibur who you are beating up right now. You're safe, Matt. The Good Guys have you.]

[No. You're not here! You're trying to scan me again. NO! NO! NO! NO!] Images of someone that looked like me, scanning him. Hurting him. Raping and violating his mind.

[It is I. How can I prove it?]

[Can't? Unless you tell me something that only . . . HE . . . would know.]

[Liz thinks you're ruggedly handsome?] I asked him whimsically.

He still didn't trust that it was I. I could feel the doubts in his mind, and I tried to reassure him. [How's this?] I mentally sent him something that only he and I would ever know. A moment when I had blurted out that I loved him, and he had been furious with me. [Does that prove it's me?] I asked him softly. To bring that incident, still so sore and raw, up now, greatly pained me. If I had kept my mouth shut, I never would have left, and this NEVER would have happened.

[J-j-john? Is that you? Furious at you? ... Never . . . Mad at myself. Hurt you. Oh dear God. It *IS* you. Never said you . . . scanned me. Believe me? ... Please?]

[Shhhhh . . . relax. You've been rescued and we're getting you the hell outta here. But you're going to have to let us restrain you. We don't want to drop you if you start grabbing the safety lines.]

[Can't stand to be restrained. Not now. Not ever. Can you knock me out for this? Don't just paralyze me? Knock me out.]

"Sarah. Matthew wants to know if he can get knocked out for this? He's a little nervous that he might grab for the ropes. He doesn't want to be paralyzed for the drop. He just wants to be unconscious." Sarah gave me a startled look, and I realized it was because I had called Gideon "Matthew." Not, Captain, instead MATTHEW. Dureena said I had 'grown' during my tour on the Dya, and perhaps I had.

"Can't . . . " Vladi and Sarah answered together. The tall Russian gave Sarah an amused look and motioned for her to continue.

"Between the collapsed lung and the other injuries, we can't knock him out. He might go into respiratory arrest half way down. Or he might vomit and aspirate it. I can't even paralyze him for that reason. He's going to have to be aware of what's going on, John. I'm sorry, Matthew. There's nothing safely I can do."

[NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I cannot do this! I can't. I CAN'T.] He was screaming that at me, mentally, and I was trying to calm him down. Mentally, I assured him that everything would be fine, but he had to trust us.

He couldn't. He kept screaming that at me over and over again.

"MATTHEW! STOP IT!" I roared at him. "We HAVE to do it this way. There is no other choice in the matter. Unless you want us to leave you here."

[No. No. No. Dear God No. Please? Don't. Don't. Don't.] His mind voice was pitiful and frightened, and I found myself hating his captures with a vengeance for what they had done to him.

"We have to restrain you. It'll be ok. I'll be going down with you, right next to the Stokes. I won't be further away from you than an inch or two. Ok?"

[.....ok . . . ]

Buckling him in carefully, we brought the Stokes basket over to the spot we were going to utilize for our descent.

"On the count of Ten, boys. Then we'll bring the Captain over, carefully." O'Neill ordered. "One . . . " we stepped off carefully, adjusting the ropes to where we needed to be. "Two . . . Three." The Stokes basket was over the side, and was descending by the time we got to the count of Five.

[?????] Matthew was terrified as he had been prepared for the count of TEN. Which is exactly why we didn't wait until the count of ten to "drop" the Stokes.

[O'Neill can't count. A good man other than that, but he can't count pass five. That's why he's an NCO, not a commissioned officer. Even St. John can count to ten without using his fingers.] I tried not to laugh when I sent that to Matthew.

[??? John, you're lying to me. LYING. What the hell else did Makam teach you?]

"Madam Makam taught me many things, Matthew. Yoga. Karma. Dharma. Rope climbing. The Power of Intimidation with a single look. Other things too many to mention. But I'm still here! Like I promised you!" I assured him. Feeling his terror, I tried to speak to him for the entire descent, until I got too winded to continue, and then O'Neill began chatting calmly with Gideon, as though the two of them had met for coffee. The Terrier kept talking about ME for some reason, while I just glared at him.

"A good lad, there. Had a few rough edges before Captain Makam wore them off of him. Could be a good Captain, if he keeps at it? Might need a good security officer like myself then. Just to keep him from getting into trouble. Guess I won't hang up the ropes then and retire with the Old Lady."

Then Vladi joined in, while I just tried to shut the two of them up. They both sounded like two proud parents, bragging about their child's achievements. How embarrassing? Especially when they started chatting about my first away mission when Makam had O'Neill and St. John purposely give me a hard time just to see if I'd catch them. The damnable duo had been proud and *delighted* that I had found them out, and done the correct thing with them. DELIGHTED? I had nightmares still of requesting those two men to strip, and they had been delighted? The entire ship was mad!

"Took him a bit to figure out that his trusty Head of Security & Operations Officer were the ones making all the problems on the away mission." O'Neill laughed about that, and I could feel Matthew's concern about my stay on the Dya. "Oh, the trouble Mike and I caused poor Lt. Commander Matheson, who was trying so hard to run his away team, as he was fearing Madam Dragon's disapproval."

[LT. COMMANDER? WERE YOU . . . PROMOTED?] Matthew asked mentally while I tried to shush him.

"The look on his face when he realized who was causing all his problems!" O'Neill continued with his tall tale, while I mentally groaned.

"Mike said it was PRICELESS" laughed Vladi. "He wishes he could have taken a picture. But he drew this picture of it on a napkin in the cafeteria one day!" Then the two men continued to laugh really hard over that damn drawing. Probably it was in Makam's personal collection, right now. Damn it, I must have looked a sight when I realized that my Operations Officer and Security head were the two people who were deliberately sabotaging my away team, but did they have to tell MATTHEW?

[They're all . . . insane . . . on that ship. Aren't they? From the Captain on down to the NCO's?]

=-

The hallways were cleared upon our arrival to the Excalibur, but I heard Makam had announced ship wide that Gideon had been rescued as we were docking. Rescued. Not RECOVERED. He was taken immediately to Medbay where the two doctors went to repair the life threatening injuries and reset his shattered bones. I understood that the two doctors worked pretty much thirty-hour straight trying to repair the major damage. Meanwhile I was trying to get the Excalibur back in shape, as there was still significant damage that needed to be repaired.

I never got the chance to say goodbye to Matt while he was awake, as he was kept unconscious for his stay in Medbay. Makam and her crew were going to take him to a starbase for extensive Medical Care and rehabilitation. Then the ship would be decommissioned, and the crew would be disbursed to other ships. I had wanted the Excalibur to take him there, but we had another mission take priority. To find the Cure. Gideon would never have forgiven me if I had been using the Excalibur to transport him, especially with the Dyavaprthivi right next door.

Sitting next to his still form, I gently touched his face, tracing my fingers on his beard. He was drugged heavily, and intubated but still I wanted Matthew to hear me. Vladi and his medical staff were about to transfer him to the Dya and I had wanted to say goodbye.

[I'll take good care of your ship until you come back, Matthew.] I sent that to him as hard as I could, but I don't think he was aware enough to hear me.

-=-=-=-=

I was never relieved of my temporary command of the Excalibur, until after Matthew came back to full duty. I was left in charge, as the only spare Captain available without a ship was Makam, and she refused to reenlist even for that brief time frame. In a way, I was disapointed as I would have loved to have seen her get into a fight with Eilerson or Galen. The two men wouldn't have a chance of winning an argument with her, and I would have loved to have seen the expression on their face when they realized that this short, slight woman had won.

"No. Thirty five years, and not a damn day longer!" she had roared at the EF admiral who had timidly suggested that idea to her. "Let Matheson handle it until you can figure out another idea that won't involve me being mentioned." She signed off, and she gave me a wink.

"Could take them years before they figure out who to send out here. Matthew's going to need a strong XO to keep the ship running while he's getting rehabilitation. It'll take a few months before he's back to feeling his oats, I'm sure. So that means *you* get to *lead* all the away missions until then." That was Makam who was still giving me the look I had deemed the Evil Eye.

"So, Captain?" I asked. "What now?"

"Admiral. I'm being retired as an Admiral. Good increase in the retirement salary." She displayed her new insignia, and I laughed.

"Admiral. Admiral Makam. What do you plan to do for your retirement?"

"Traveling. A lot of traveling. One day I'll hear the quarantine on Earth has been lifted, thanks to brave people like Matheson and Gideon, and I'm going on a pilgrimage. I've never been on Terra Prime for any significant amount of time, so I'd like to see the land of my ancestors. There's this several day festival of lights, Diwali, that's simply incredible."

"Sounds delightful."

"Should be? Good luck. Take care of Gideon. He's going to need a lot of support facing what happened to him down there. Be strong. Faith and Courage, John."

"Strength and Courage, Kritika."

"We'll take good care of him, and we won't leave him alone while he's on the Dya. I know he's medicated right now, but quite a few of the officers have volunteered to sit by his bedside, and talk to him. Matthew might be able to hear them, and it might make it easier for him, if Matt doesn't think he's with the cultists again."

"Thank you." I said that softly, and she gave me a brief smile.

Then I said goodbye to my other friends on the Dya. How I would miss Vladi and Dags, and even O'Neill . . . But not his cigars. I wouldn't miss those. Poor Michael, he was getting promoted, in spite of his best efforts. He was going to be the new XO for Captain Matrando, and I knew that St. John was going to try to ignore the paperwork until it overwhelmed him again. At least O'Neill was being transferred along with him, as it would be a shame to break up that Tuesday 3rd shift poker game.

It was later on, when I was unpacking, did I realize that Makam had given me a smaller version of her most prized possession, the statue of Shiva dancing the world into creation. Apparently, she had seen me admiring it, and had decided to give a copy of it to me, as a constant reminder that from life comes death, and from destruction comes life. From sorrow, hope, and from regrets, joy.

=-=-=-=-

Jones arrived, promptly and on schedule, almost before the Dya had left the scene. Had it been only six months since my scan on the Dya? It seemed like a lifetime. Jones was a short man, who poked and prodded in my mind, and focused mainly on the situation with Matthew. I had reported to EF that I had used my psychometric abilities to locate Matthew and EF wanted to be reassured about me.

He hit a raw nerve, and suddenly I sent him "everything." Matthew's physical pain, the rescue, how guilty I felt about transferring from the Excalibur. But I kept my love for Matthew, hidden, just focusing on the scene when we had found him. I think the darkness and Gideon's pain overwhelmed Jones as the mind rape was by far the shortest I had ever endured.

"You did the right thing," was all he said before he left. "They're fools if they don't realize it."

-=-=-=-=-

It was a month before Gideon returned to the ship, even though he wasn't supposed to have been medically cleared for another month. He had been through many procedures to try and repair the damage that he had suffered and he had countless more lined up as soon as he was stronger. Matt was using crutches, as his feet and wrists were still splinted from his original surgeries. Somehow he had managed to get into his jumpsuit, and he was now trying to take command of the Excalibur from me. The man that returned to the Excalibur wasn't the old Matt, as he lost his devilish grin.

No, this Gideon looked old and weary and I could tell that he was still in a great deal of pain from the gingerly way he walked. His hair was still quite short from when they had to shave his head, and he wore a baseball cap for the longest time. It wasn't simply vanity for his lost hair, as Matt was actually trying to hide the vivid scars on his forehead. Gideon would go for more plastic surgery later on, but for now, he wanted back to the Excalibur.

"Lt. Commander Matheson. I'm back, and I want my ship back. So, I'm ordering you to get the hell outta my chair." He growled at me, and I smiled. He was tugging at his sleeves, trying to cover his damaged wrists, and I nodded. I got out of the captain's chair, and motioned for him to sit. I noticed without commenting that he wasn't wearing his class ring, and I wondered if we had lost it somewhere during the rescue. I also wondered how I could get it replaced for him.

"Of course, Sir." I grinned at him, and he gave me a slight smile back.

He sat in his chair, and there was a spontaneous burst of applause from the bridge crew. Matthew pretended it didn't affect him at all, so he then made a ship wide announcement that the Old Man was back in charge, and we still had a cure to find. I tried not to smile when I noticed that his voice was emotional, and that Matthew wiped his eyes quickly after his announcement.

After a few hours on the bridge, he escaped to his office to "catch up on paperwork" but I knew it to be a thinly disguised strategic retreat. Everyone had to come up to the bridge to see him, and Matt was obviously growing exhausted by all the damn hoopla. Even Max had shown up to see the prodigal captain, had made a few acidic comments and then left, pretending indifference to Matt's return. It didn't fool me, and I knew Max's act didn't fool Gideon in the slightest.

Galen had appeared for a brief time, and he assured Matthew that he had kept an eye on the Excalibur while Matthew was away. The Technomage had arrived a week earlier, surprised by the change in the chain of command. He hadn't commented on what had kept him away during the time we could have used his help with Matthew's rescue, but I knew that Dureena had given him the rough side of her tongue for some time in one of the bullet cars. He had disappeared right after Dureena's lecture, and I had wondered where he was. Probably sulking, I had thought dryly at the time.

"I was keeping an eye on them, Matthew. If they had needed help, I would have been there, but . . . sometimes fledglings must leave the nest to explore the universe. Can't keep them in the nest, all their lives. Sometimes they have to learn to fly. Don't you agree?" He had grinned broadly at me, and I had acknowledged his comment with a quick smile.

Matt stayed in his office for several hours, and then returned to the bridge where he greeted the second and third shifts on their arrivals. Gideon really overdid it, the first day back, so I had to help him back to his quarters.

"Do you think you can help me out of this damn jumpsuit?" he had asked plaintively while I was trying to get his boots off his feet. His feet were swollen and hot, and I had to ice them down to get their swelling down.

"Why the hell you put it on then?"

"I am not returning to my ship, looking like something the Drakh dragged in. I do have some pride." Gideon answered that tartly, and I grinned at him.

"Vain. Matthew Gideon's vain. I never expected it. But now I know. You wore it because you think you look better in black."

Undressing him was nerve wracking, as he didn't want me to see his scars and how he flinched at my touch, so I pretended that I didn't see anything. Instead, I kept offering him fashion tips according to John Matheson, EF Telepath and Fascist Fashion Designer. Perhaps tomorrow he'd wear something with long sleeves that didn't require two people to take it off him? Maybe he'd use the wheelchair like he was ordered? How about pants that were loose fitting? Who was he trying to impress by wearing that tight jumpsuit anyway? I winced when I saw exactly what his body looked like after his ordeal. Several of his injuries looked down right raw.

I noticed that he was wearing a necklace with his class ring on it, and I was relieved. Matthew saw my look, and he whispered "I'll need a few more rounds of plastic surgery to get me looking . . . better. In a few months, I'll be better than new, but not now. For now, I can't even wear my damn ring as my fingers are swollen." I helped him to his bed, and I covered him with a blanket. He sighed. "John. We need to talk."

"Not now, you're exhausted." I whispered that to him softly, and he shook his head.

"No. I need to know. How long are you staying on the Excalibur? Are you going to leave again?" For a moment, he looked at me intently with his hazel eyes, and he sighed again.

"We'll talk later, Matthew. Go to bed." I hadn't answered him, for I didn't know the answer to those questions myself. There was so much to say between the two of us, and only then, could I decide what I needed to do next. For tonight, I stayed in his quarters, just in case he might need something, and I dozed on his couch. I woke up that night, with a feeling of absolute terror. He was having a nightmare, I could feel it, and he just couldn't wake up.

He was screaming in his sleep, and I crawled into bed with him. "Matthew. Wake Up. Wake Up! It's a nightmare!" I kept repeating that to him until finally he stopped screaming. I was holding him, like Matthew was a young child, and suddenly he began to weep hard. "Let it out. Let it out. You should, you know. Don't let it fester and consume you." I kept stroking his hair, and at last, I realized that he wasn't crying anymore. Instead, he had fallen asleep in my arms. I continued stroking his hair, enjoying the feel of Matt's buzz cut. [You should keep that. That way I don't have to remind you to keep getting your hair cut.] For the remainder of the night, I held him while he slept, and I realized that my decision had been made. I would stay on the Excalibur for as long as Matthew needed me.

For the next few weeks, by an unspoken agreement between us, I would come to his quarters when he was trying to sleep or he'd come to my quarters. I'd lie next to him in bed, and only then could Matthew fall asleep, secure in the knowledge that I would be keeping watch over him. He'd still have the nightmares, but less frequently, and of less severity while I lay next to him. But never could I touch him as even the gentlest of physical contacts made him flinch.

-=-=-=-=

A month after my return, I found myself on a more even emotional keel, and I found myself straightening up the odds and ends that I had let slide over the last few months. One of the odds and ends included a heart to heart with John Matheson. I wasn't sure if he was planning on staying on as my XO, and I wanted to clear up that matter. Plus we needed to talk about . . . other issues, and I regretted the fact that I knew I'd have difficulty in expressing myself to him. It was amazing how our roles had changed. His experience with Makam had apparently been for the best as I found him as more of an equal now. Before I had been the dominant one, now he'd stand up to me, and argue back at me when he thought I was being an absolute idiot. One of these days, I would have to thank Makam for her positive influence on John.

I rather nervously asked John for a chance to talk privately, and we found ourselves in Matheson's quarters. "So, what's so important that you wanted to talk to me," he asked playfully while he sprawled out on his couch, and for a moment, I found myself distracted by a few tawdry memories. I was silent for a moment or two, and he prompted me with a "Well?"

"U-us." I was nervous, and I damned myself for stuttering.

"Us?" he questioned me.

"Yes. Us." I said firmly.

"I don't think there was an US to discuss." John Matheson gave me a bittersweet smile, and for a moment, I thought he was playing hard to get.

"There is. We . . . " I looked at him, realized that he was enjoying me being flustered, and I scowled at him. "You've picked up quite a few bad habits from Makam, do you know that, John?"

"Funny, I seem to remember her saying the very same thing, except Madam Dragon mentioned Matthew Gideon as my downfall." His tone was joking, but something in his eyes made me realize that he wasn't really joking. I was his downfall, unless we talked about our relationship, both public and private. For a moment, I damned myself again for destroying our previous relationship, but I had no times for regrets.

"I... want to know. Are you staying on as my XO? Are you just . . . waiting until you think I'm strong enough not to use you as a crutch anymore, and then you'll flee for greener pastures?" I trailed off, and I realized that he looked startled.

"I'm staying. Didn't you realize that? I'm staying here. As your XO, and your friend, as long as you want me to stay." John spoke to me softly. "I'm not going anywhere, Matthew, don't you believe me yet? I promised you that on your rescue, and I've promised it to you many a time since then. I'm here. On the "Excalibur." For as long as you want me."

"And . . . in my bed?" I whispered that one, and John suddenly looked startled. I was rather embarrassed that I had actually mentioned *that*, and he suddenly realized that my question and his possible answer terrified me.

"I *am* in your bed, nightly, Matthew, sleeping next to you and being ever so careful not to touch you." His voice was quiet, and I think, sad.

Grabbing my shattered courage to continue with what I wanted to say, my practiced speech went completely and totally out of my head. "I mean . . . as . . . my . . . lover? I'm . . . not ready for it, not by a long shot, but . . . I want to keep that option available."

"Matt?" he questioned me. He looked startled, and sat up. Shaking his head, he appeared to be at a complete lost for words. "Matthew?"

"I'd . . . like that." I admitted softly. It was amazing, after all these years that most men found it difficult to talk openly about their private feelings. Must be something genetic on the Y chromosome? Gamely, I struggled on. "But, I don't know if it's possible. Wanted to let you know that . . . I'd like that. If you're . . . interested? The two of us would have to come up with a few ground rules. And I'm not sure if it's even possible . . . because of that Jones issue. While EF frowns on this type of relationship . . . unofficially, everyone knows that . . . it happens; especially on the long term deep space vessels." It was my longest conversation with him in months, and I was very nervous.

John completely ignored me for several minutes, and I grew even more anxious.

"Even if you don't, we really need to talk about what happened between us. Why the hell did you run from me, John?" I was surprised how upset my voice was. "I was the one that screwed things up, I should have known better. I was furious at myself, NEVER at you. Never did I say to anyone that you scanned me. NEVER. I never even thought it. John, it was completely my fault for everything that happened. Everything. I am deeply sorry that you were that terrified of me that you thought that your only option was to leave the Excalibur."

Matheson was still quiet for a bit, and at last, I figured it was my cue to exit 'ships' right'. I turned to face the door, and gathered up my battered pride before I exited his quarters. Gritting my teeth, I was determined that I'd walk out of his quarters, proudly, rather than with my usual limp. A man needed a few shreds of dignity after all.

"If . . . I was to get involved with you, I'd have to be an equal. A sharing, caring partnership, not a relationship where you're the dominant one always. Not you trying to protect me, and you always taking the complete blame when something goes wrong. I'm a consenting adult, and I knew what we did was going to open up a kettle of worms, but I *agreed* to it. *Willingly*." He didn't say anything more than that, but for now, it was enough.

"Thank you" I whispered, and I could hear him sigh.

"No, thank you, my dearest Matthew."

-=-=-=-=-

We talked a lot, even more than before our estrangement. It wasn't odd to see us chatting for long hours late at "ship's night" in the cafeteria about this or that, and we chatted even early in the morning, in the gym. Our friendship was back, stronger than ever, and I was quite happy about that.

As for our "relationship," Gideon tried very hard to keep that quiet, and I think we succeeded in fooling just about everyone. If you thought about it, like I had, really nothing had changed between the two of us, except for the fact that *Matthew* had admitted that he loved me. I had always loved Matthew, and he finally had acknowledged his feelings for me.

I'm not sure if we managed to fool the command staff, as I caught Sarah Chambers giving the two of us an odd smile one day. It was maybe six weeks after he had returned to the ship, and Gideon had decided to do something that he simply wasn't physically able to do just yet; and I disagreed with his plan wholeheartedly. He had glared at me, I had looked back at him, and shook my head slightly, silently warning him that it wasn't a great idea. For a few minutes, he stared back at me while I continued to shake my head in disapproval. At last, he shook his head in agreement, acknowledging that I was right about his physical status. Then Gideon saw Chambers smirking, and he growled at her. "What?"

Sarah laughed, and she refused to answer that question. But Sarah broadly smirked throughout that meeting, which apparently flustered Matthew to no end. He fumbled inarticulately for a bit, which soon had Dureena smiling, which in turn soon had Max grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat. It's rather hard to run a meeting, especially when you know that everyone's laughing at a private joke, which probably involves you. Finally, Matthew declared the meeting a complete and total loss, and he ended it with a roar. "GET OUT!"

"Do you think they know?" He asked me that quietly later in the elevator.

"I don't know. And I don't really want to ask." I had answered him quickly, and he laughed.

"Always said you were smart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

I was always a light sleeper, which made it easy for me to find out when he was having a nightmare. And tonight, tonight, he was crying, again. His nightmares about his captivity would wake him up in the middle of the night, and he'd sometimes cry, softly, so as not to wake me. It wouldn't work, as I would be awake and lying next to him. Tonight was no different than the previous nights, except for the fact that he had left our bed, and was sitting on the floor while he wept. Getting off the bed, I pulled the covers off the bed, and I walked over to where he was. I gently covered him with them, and I sat next to him, carefully covering myself with them.

"Did I wake you?" His voice was soft and he was rubbing his hands over and over again.

"No, couldn't sleep. Are you ok?" It was an inane question, as he wasn't ok, why else would he be on the floor, silently weeping? "Another nightmare?"

"Yes."

"About?" I asked that quietly.

"The usual, Eilerson's latest request for an increase in pay." Matthew was trying to flim-flam me so I played along. "HQ is going to scream when they see his latest request."

"Astronomical, was it?" I commented dryly.

"Quite." We were quiet for a bit, and then Matt softly spoke. "It was about... them again."

"Oh." I whispered that softly, waiting for my silent partner to continue to vent. He vented rarely, as though he was afraid that what he would repulse me by talking about what he had experienced during his captivity. My foolish, scared Matthew. How was he going to heal if he didn't talk to me? After all, I was planning on being with him for the long haul, and I wanted him to talk to me. Forty or fifty years of silence would drive anything crazy! He didn't say anything for almost an hour, so I prompted him. "Come on, don't you trust me?"

"I do!"

I was surprised by his vehemence, and I guess he saw that I was surprised. For a moment, our eyes met, and I saw his trust of me in his eyes. For a person such as myself, that had been an outsider for most of his life, it was... amazing to see that look directed toward me.

"I trust you, completely and utterly. You are the only person here that I can talk to... about what happened. But I'm still afraid." Matthew whispered that softly.

"Afraid of what?"

Again, this time his answer took a while, as though he was terrified that he'd say the wrong thing to me, and that I'd run off. "That... I'll never be clean again. Sometimes, I wash over and over again, trying to get their damn taint off my skin. I wash myself until I'm almost bleeding, and it's never going to work. It'll never get out of my soul."

"You are not dirty. It is *not* in your soul, Matthew."

"I'm so uncomfortable around most of the crew. I know that ... only you and Sarah know exactly what happened down there, and nobody else on board does. But Dureena scares me, as sometimes, I think ... that Dureena is actually... HER. I think Dureena knows something else happened down there, as she's been asking me if I want to talk."

For some reason, tonight my damaged lover was in the mood to talk, so I let him. These moments were rare, and I would always encourage him to open up to me.

"Did I ever thank you?" he asked.

"For what?" I prompted him.

"For saving me. For getting me outta Hell. Did I mention that I had hallucinations after a while? That while I was hanging there, thinking I was going to die, that I'd see them?"

"No... you never mentioned that to me."

"They came back to hurt me again... but... you were there... and you stopped them. You wouldn't let them hurt me. And... I kept asking you why you were defending me, after all I did to hurt you, and you know what you kept telling me?" Matthew's voice was shaky.

"No... what?"

"That you loved me, and that's why. I'm embarrassed to admit that I wept like a baby after that."

"Why's that so embarrassing?" I questioned him softly. "It's a rather nice sentiment, besides being completely true. You know if I had been there, I would have done everything I could to have protected you."

"It's embarassing. Starship Captains aren't allowed to cry, it's in the Handbook. We're supposed to be invincible, and breathe fire. You know... like Kritika Makam." He was silent for a bit, his attempt at humor having failed to make me laugh, and then he asked, "We're not suppose to suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and have nightmares every Goddamn night. John?"

"Yes, Matthew."

"Will you... make love to me? Maybe, if you do, I won't feel so... I mean, I trust you with everything, including the Excalibur. When we get back into bed tonight, would you? I mean that I'm thinking, if I let you... maybe I won't be constantly...think of them. I trust you, so you can do anything you want to me. Really. You'll be the top and the one in charge, and I'll let you do anything you want to me, just as long as you're satisfied. Please? I just want to know that you're not... repulsed by me." Matthew sighed, and looked away from me. "I just want to know that you don't think... I'm..." He didn't finish what he was going to say, but I pretty much knew what he hadn't said.

Dirty.

Corrupt.

Filthy.

Tainted.

My lover was just so nervous and uncertain, and I found myself wanting to console him, emotionally, and physically.

"Matthew... why do we have to go to bed? How about here? And how about ... Now?" I gave him a wolfish smile that appeared to amuse him for some reason.

I gently pushed him onto his back, and he let me. I straddled him, making sure that I wasn't touching him, and then I lowered my lips to his forehead. I kissed him gently, and I had the sudden realization that he was shaking.

"Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you." I consoled him softly.

"I know. I know."

I continued kissing him on his face for a few minutes, and then I touched his lips. His body jumped when I did, and I suddenly realized that he was terrified, but he was going to let me do anything I wanted to him. So I gave him a gentle, and thoroughly chaste kiss on his lips until his tense body relaxed, and then I rolled over to his side. "Matthew. Let's go back to bed."

This couldn't be allowed to continue. I suddenly realized that unintentionally, I had just come rather close to emotionally injuring my Matthew. If I did this tonight, it would put our relationship into an unhealthy position of me being the dominant partner. Without a shadow of a doubt, I could have made sure that Matthew enjoyed tonight. I would have relaxed him, by taking as long as necessary until he felt comfortable with what I was doing to him. Matthew would have enjoyed it, and he would be happy as he would have known that I wasn't repulsed by him or his experience. But it wouldn't have been healthy for our long-term relationship. Gideon was far too Alpha Male to be willing to be the submissive partner for long in our relationship, so it would be best if we didn't start off on a bad foot. Matthew wasn't the dominant one, nor should I be the one in charge. Instead, I wanted us to have an equal partnership.

Gideon trusted me, so I hoped he wouldn't be too let down when I decided to stop what we were doing. It was the right thing to do for our relationship.

"You're stopping?" His voice was shaky, and disappointed. "Why? Why? I didn't mean to jump when you kissed me. I really didn't. Believe me?"

"You said you trust me. So trust me enough to agree with me when I say that if I made love with you tonight, it would have been a mistake. You're not ready for this. I want to be your partner in this experience, not the top, not the bottom, but your equal partner. If I did this tonight, you'd regret it, Matt."

"No, I wouldn't. I swear I wouldn't. I trust you, completely."

"In time, you'd heal enough to be unhappy with the fact that I was the dominant partner in this experience. You'd regret it, Matthew, and I don't want you to have any regrets with our relationship as they would only fester, and destroy it. Our friendship is strong as ever, but... this love thing between us... it's only just been acknowledged, and so it's a little fragile right now. It needs to be given some TLC and time to grow stronger. I'll wait as long as necessary for you to heal, as I only want to make love with you as your equal."

Matthew looked at me for a long time, and I grew nervous. Then he smiled. "How the hell did you ever last in Earth Force this long, having morals like that?"

"I fell in with a Captain that appreciated them."

My answer seemed to cheer him, so we went back to bed.

-=-=-=

The two of us, TOGETHER, as a team, had hammered out a few ground rules for our . . . relationship, both in public and private. In public, nothing was to have changed, except that it was apparent to one and all that Lt. Commander Matheson was trying to quietly prevent his recovering Captain from over doing it while not making it obvious to Gideon. Publicly, I was having a lot of meetings with Gideon, with me groaning and moaning about being meeting'd to death by a rather stubborn Captain.

Privately, I threw the files in the corner of whatever quarters or whichever office we were in, and we'd talk. Occasionally about the ship and the crew, more often about how Gideon was progressing on his recovery. Sometimes, Gideon would fall sleep, secure in the knowledge that I was nearby. I was busy trying to catch up on paperwork that had apparently been neglected during his revolving door of XOs, and that took most of my spare time. Spare time? I didn't have any spare time! I didn't have enough hours in the day to sleep more than four or five hours a day.

Sometimes, when he was sleeping, I'd crawl into bed next to him, carefully, as not to touch him and I'd lie next to him. Smelling his cologne, listening to him breath, I'd fall asleep for a few hours. One night, he rolled over, and I found myself being held by him. Gently, yet firmly, and I suddenly realized how much I looked forward to these brief times of lying next to my Matthew. How he'd talk to me, softly, hesitantly, of what had happened to him, during the long hours when he couldn't sleep, while I listened carefully. His hand suddenly entwined with mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Gently, I raised his hand to my lips, and I kissed each finger, softly. Since what had happened to him, this was the first time Matt had willingly touch me, and I was hoping for more.

"I've never really apologized for what I did to you. Do you know that?" His voice was soft in my ear.

"Yes." I whispered back to him. "You have, numerous times, Matthew. So many, many times, Matthew."

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I've always regretted that. Bitterly. I am sorry. Incredibly sorry that your first time was so rough and that you were . . . uncomfortable . . . after."

"I thought you were angry at me because I . . . was inexperienced. And because I admitted that I loved you. That's why I requested the transfer. I never thought you intentionally hurt me. I'm sorry also."

"Why?" He was startled by my apology.

"If I hadn't left . . . " I couldn't finish that statement, and he began to try to console me. If I hadn't left, O'Keefe never would have been on board.

"It's not your fault about that. Never. Never would I be angry with you. Never. I just can't believe that you could still respect me after what happened . . . between us. I'm honored that you wanted me to be your first, but . . . I'm still upset that I was so rough with you. Your first time should have been . . . special. I'm really sorry it wasn't."

"But it was special." I told him softly. "Because you were the one. Matthew, though I think Eilerson would have approved of a few things." I said that last comment in my driest possible tones, and Matthew's laughing rewarded my attempt at humor.

"Thank you." Then Matthew smiled at me, and I was glad to see that his smile had also returned. "I've . . . been talking to the counselors. They wanted to know how I was adjusting back to my life after what happened. For some reason, they really wanted to know about my social life. They refused to believe that as a Captain that I don't HAVE a social life, so I admitted to them that I had someone in my life. That while this person had been rather understanding about what I've been through, that I just still didn't feel comfortable with . . . 'touching'."

"Matthew . . . It'll take time. I know that." I whispered that softly.

"It's been over three months, damn it. So one of them talked to me after the others had logged off, and made a few suggestions." He carefully touched my face with his fingers, and he smiled. "I told her about what happened that night when you were moral enough not to take advantage of me, and she rather tartly told me that she was glad at least one of us in this relationship had some sense. So she poked and she prodded a bit, and I admitted that you really were worried about the fact that we're fumbling it through this relationship and that y head's not screwed on straight. So she made a few suggestions, to take everything slowly, and carefully. That I should make the effort to touch you, and to do nothing more than just touch you. Nothing erotic. Sheila Masterson suggested that I should practice it, for a while, and then when I got more comfortable, that I should let you do the same to me."

He used his fingers to touch my face, and he smiled when I tried to kiss his fingers. "Hey! Sheila said not to do that," he whispered while he avoided my lips. For the first few nights, Matthew was only able to touch me for a few minutes before his fear overcame him and he stopped. Gradually though, he became more relaxed and comfortable with me.

Over the next few weeks, while I lay next to him in bed, Matthew would touch me carefully. Sheila didn't want eroticism involved, but after a while, I found it extremely erotic. The sensation of Matthew's fingers slowly roaming over my hand, the feel of his hand as he explored my shoulder and my back, the way he curled his body next to mine while we slept, and I was ready to let it progress. But Matthew didn't, instead, he would give me a bittersweet smile and stop things before it went to the next level.

After a month or so, one night, I found him in my quarters, sitting on my couch. "Matthew?" I questioned him. "I wasn't expecting you here. Didn't you have second shift today?"

"Took a personal day" he assured me dryly.

"I better mark this in my calendar. Matthew Gideon . . . "

"Would like it if you . . . " he whispered at me, giving me a rather shy smile. He paused, looking embarrassed, and then he gritted his teeth. "Would . . . touch him?"

"Love too. Do you want to take your shirt off?" He agreed, and soon, he was shirtless, sitting on my bed. I just looked at him, trying to figure out where to start, and he gave me a sad look.

"I know. I know and I have to get more plastic surgery done." Matthew had been through a score of surgeries since his return, and he was due for another round shortly.

"It's not that. I just want to make sure you're ready for this." I stood next to him, and I carefully touched his face, concentrating on touching his scars. He trembled, and I gave him a smile. "I won't hurt you. Don't you believe me?" Letting my hands roam, I touched the scars on my love's chest and wrists. "They're fading at last."

"Physically. Yes. Emotionally?" Matthew shook his head.

"Don't try to protect me, Matt. I want to be an equal in our relationship, not someone whom you need to protect and coddle."

"Maybe, I like coddling you."

-=-=-=-

That night, I was very gentle with him, only touching his face and his arms, but I realized that he was still very uneasy with that intimacy, so I stopped after a few minutes.

"So soon?" he whispered.

"You're not ready for this, are you?"

"I *WANT* to be."

"Don't rush it."

-=-=-=-=-=

Sheila was poking and prying into my personal life, so I was playing stupid. She'd ask a few questions, I'd give an one word answer, and then she'd volley another question at me. I kept telling her that she was born centuries too late and that the Spanish Inquisition could have certainly used her expertise during their quest. Masterson had a sense of humor, so she laughed at my comment, but then she immediately started the questioning again.

"Do you want me to get the bright light out for you?" I asked her. "If you shine it in my eyes, you might get more information that way."

"No. I save the bright lights for special people and special occasions. So, Matthew, you've been following my instructions, have you?" she had remarked.

"Yes." I was the king of the one-word answers, so I knew Sheila would poke and prod some more into my damaged psyche. It was our little game, and she allowed me my personal quirks in our counseling sessions. Unlike the other counselors that I was required to talk to, Sheila allowed me my idiosyncrasies as they amused her.

"And?" she prompted.

"You're a dirty old woman, Sheila. Asking about my personal life like this." I gave her a wicked smile, which she returned.

"As a dirty old woman, I live vicariously through the life of others, especially EF captains. Now tell me, has it helped? Are you more comfortable with your significant other?"

I had never told Sheila Masterson, John's name, and that amused her also, I think. No doubt she had marked it down somewhere that I was highly protective of my significant other. She was amused by a lot of things I did, but Masterson was always willing to take my communications, no matter what the time was, no matter what she was doing.

My first day back on board, I had suffered on the bridge such a severe anxiety attack that I had called her, as I was terrified. She had been amazingly compassionate, even though I had woken her up at 3 a.m. Mars Time, and Sheila had carefully made a few suggestions to make it easier for me. Thankfully, she also refrained from reminding me that she had warned me that I wasn't ready to go back to the Excalibur. The two of us had a fight over the fact that I was signing out AMA, and she had disapproved wholeheartedly that I was leaving the hospital and returning to duty.

We had talked for hours my first day back, and I had sent her flowers. It had delighted her to receive flowers from a Starship Captain, I think, as Masterson joked to me that her reputation was in tatters at EF after Sheila had received the two dozen long stemmed roses.

"Yes. I'm feeling more comfortable with my partner touching me. I... rather enjoy it, actually." That foot massage he had given me one day when he noticed I was limping, had found me quite aroused and thinking actively about . . . performing for the first time since . . . what had happened to me. There was no doubt that he noticed that my main gun was powered up, and quite ready to fire. John soon started dedicating a significant amount of time to extremely erotic foot massages in most of our "sessions" of hands-on touch therapy. Rubbing my feet, he enjoyed my obvious physical response to his touch, while he was giving me a wicked smile.

But my desire frightened me, and I would have to make him stop. Curling myself tightly up into a ball, trying to make peace between the past and the present, I would shake and tremble in my fear and desire. Dear GOD, I couldn't hurt John again. I wouldn't hurt him again, not my lonely Telepath. My love was compassionate, and he would gently talk to me while I tried to calm my shattered nerves. It had been a good thing that Matheson was too moral a man to take advantage of me that one night I had offered to let him do anything to me, as I don't think I would have been able to handle it. I probably would have fled from the room if things had progressed.

The first time when I had done this, we had just talked for a few hours, while I was lying on my side on my couch, while John had sat down next to me. He had carefully positioned himself, so that he was sitting squarely against my waist, and we were talking while John finished his paperwork. I had noticed without commenting, that Matheson was lightly rubbing his body against mine, and that I was responding... quickly. Gradually, we both stopped talking, as I grew more and more nervous, while John focused on his paperwork, still rubbing his body softly against mine.

Maybe he didn't noticed that I was aroused, but I most assuredly knew.

"Matt. You're not talking? You ok?" He had asked me that quietly.

"Tired. Need to sleep." I whispered that, and John stood up to collect his paperwork. Grabbing a blanket, I covered up what I was trying to hide.

"Mind if I join you? Just to sleep." He smiled at me, and I knew that my attempts to hide my arousal had failed miserably. "Nothing more, I promise."

"OK." I shuffled off to my bed, where I tried to calm myself down. My body wanted something that I just mentally couldn't handle right now. "Stop it. Down!" I hissed that at myself, and wasn't surprised when my body ignored me. It was far too busy, standing at attention, and I grew more nervous. He was going to join me in a few minutes, to sleep, nothing more, when suddenly I was absolutely terrified. John and I had reached a level where we normally slept entwined with one another, and he'd know that I was... up.

Lying that closely to John, I... might... try... and he'd want it. I knew John wanted to make love with me, and he had been so patient. But up until now, my body hadn't healed enough, but now it had. A simple touch of his hand on my shoulder and I'd find myself aroused, and wanting him. God! He wanted it and while my body was more than willing, my soul was screaming in terror. No. NO. NO!

He'd be in shortly, and he'd lie next to me, spoon style. I'd be lying on my side, and he'd wrap himself around me, and he... would... know... and what if John... wanted... John's hands would probably end up resting on my stomach and his mouth would be next to my ear, and... he'd... might start kissing my ear. While he was doing that, it would be easy for him... to slide his hand down... to touch me there, stroking my obvious erection. Oh God, no. Wrapping my self tightly into a ball, I knew I was shaking uncontrollably.

John found me like that, and he had hesitantly touched my shoulder, which had caused me to become even more terrified and nonverbal. I had wrapped myself tightly in the fetal position and I just couldn't answer his questions. Fortunately, John was dressed, and he had gotten Sarah down to my quarters.

When the doctor arrived, Matthew Gideon, the human pretzel, still wasn't talking, and Chambers had given me quite a few sedatives to relax me. Thankfully, whatever she gave me also managed to relax that rather stubborn part of my anatomy. After the drugs had taken effect on me, Sarah had gently straightened my twisted body out, and covered me with a blanket, whispering to me to get some sleep. Then she motioned for John to join her in my living room. She actually gave me enough sedatives to take down a squad full of drunken Centauri troopers and I was floating in a lovely haze, dimly aware of the conversation that was taking place in my living room.

"What happened?" she asked John.

"I was sitting at the table, finishing a few reports. Matt was in the mood to talk tonight, so I let him talk for a bit. He said he was tired, that he wanted to go to bed, and the next thing I know, he's curled up in a ball. He was shaking like crazy so I touched him on the shoulder and then he went into the fetal position and went completely nonverbal."

"I gave him a few sedatives. He'll be fine, but I don't want him alone tonight."

"Guess I'm sleeping on the couch again." John sighed softly at that prospect.

"No. You're actually not." Dimly, I thought that Sarah's voice sounded amused.

"OW! What was that?"

"You're going to your quarters as you're exhausted." I heard a slight sound of protest, and Sarah's laughter. "I'm staying here tonight. The sedative I just gave you should take affect in about twenty minutes. Meaning you better get to your own quarters before it takes affect, else you'll be sleeping on the bullet car for the next twelve hours. John, it's been fantastic having you back on the Excalibur, and you've been an absolute Godsend with Matthew. I don't think he'd be functioning if you weren't here, truly I believe that. But you've got to take care of yourself, too."

"I owe him. If I hadn't left . . . "

"Don't waste your time on might have beens, should have beens, and what ifs. Now get out. Ok?"

"Goodnight, Sarah. Thank you."

"Oh . . . just to let you know. I approve. Wholeheartedly."

"About . . . ?"

She had laughed, and John sighed again. So Sarah knew and approved. Apparently we hadn't been that discreet after all.

-=-=-=-

Sheila advocated touch therapy. Touch therapy, bull shit, I had told her bluntly, which had Masterson laughing at me again.

"I'm glad you find me amusing." Growling that at her, I had scowled at her, which had her laughing harder.

She matched the face I gave her, and I had to laugh softly.

"You don't think I do this for the pay, do you? If I wanted to make the big credits I'd be in private practice. EF doesn't pay all that well." Her tone was dry and mocking.

"You forget, I'm career military so I know how little they pay."

Sheila then bluntly told me that was John and I were doing really was nothing more than an extended session of foreplay. As I was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of ... sex, John and I were concentrating on the other, neglected stages of the sex act. Talking with one another, which led to touching, and then kissing... then...

"Trust me. You are a normal person, acting normally to an abnormal event. After all you've been through, it's not that surprising that you and John aren't... intimate just yet. It takes time to heal physically, mentally and emotionally."

Sheila had managed to find out John's name, and I had figured that somehow she had convinced him to talk to her also. It was probably a great idea, but I was still nervous about the two of them talking about their favorite "space case," Matthew Gideon.

God, it had taken almost five months since I had been rescued to get to the point where I'd let John touch me without me recoiling in obvious fear and terror. At this rate, I was assuming it would take us several decades to get to where I could actually give John some type of sexual pleasure.

When I dreamed alone in my bed at night, the nightmares were still there, but . . . there were other dreams, increasing in frequency, in which John and I were actually making love. These dreams made me more nervous when John and I were together alone, as I just knew that I wasn't ready for that type of emotional commitment.

"And you two are talking while you're doing this? Verbal communication is just as important as physical communication." Giving me a penetrating look through the view screen, she shook her head in disappointment. "You're not, are you?"

"I'm . . . trying." We were talking very well on a one to one basis when we dealt with less intimate topics such as the Excalibur and its crew. But when we were touching each other, I was having difficulties. Actually, when I touched John, I could talk to him, but when he touched me, I just couldn't say . . . anything to him. I tried, hard, but I still . . . wasn't comfortable with communicating verbally and physically with him. One or the other, but not both. He'd talk to me, and I'd usually only be able to manage one or two words to answer him. On my very good nights, I was able to speak a sentence or two before my tongue grew silent. When he massaged my feet, I just found myself completely tongue-tied or worse yet for my pride, stammering and stuttering like a fool.

Who was I fooling? I had difficulty talking with John about our relationship even when we were hands off. It had taken me sometime to haltingly stutter to John that when we finally . . . reached the point where we were going to make love that . . . John *had* to keep his mental shielding up. While Sheila had assured me that when I was ready for that step, I would be thinking of John, rather than my captors, I . . . wasn't that sure. After my mental rape by that Teep, I wasn't sure . . . if I'd ever feel comfortable with John in my mind. I knew John wanted to share everything with me, but I was afraid of being hurt again. John had been so disappointed, I could tell, and I stammered on, telling him that one day . . . he'd be able to touch my mind.

Since I had gotten back in the Excalibur, my fears had increased dramatically. When I was recovering planetside, all I had feared was that I was never going to get back to my ship. Now, I had a host of new demons to face, many of them dealing with John Matheson and my feelings for him. I didn't want to hurt my XO again, and I was deeply concerned that I would wound him again. Then there was that little taunting voice that kept telling me... that everybody knew about what had happened down on that damn planet, in spite of my efforts to keep it between me, my XO and my CMO. Everybody knew that their Captain had been sexually assaulted by a bunch of women in their late teens and early twenties. They were smirking about it, especially Eilerson. Eilerson wouldn't feel this ashamed of what happened. No, he would have enjoyed it, and called out for an encore.

Secretly, I really feared the times when I trembled just when he lay next to me in bed, not even touching me. Sheila kept counseling me to patience, and I had gotten furious with her.

"Patience? Do you have any idea how fucking tired I am of hearing that word? Be patient, Matthew. Patience!" I had roared that at her. "FUCK PATIENCE!"

My counselor gave it to me, both barrels, and at point blank range. Sheila had calmly told me that at least I could walk, which was more than she could, and that at least I was back as a Captain on a starship. Which, she reminded me, no amount of patience could ever bring back to her.

I had gotten abusive to her, finally expressing my anger and rage outloud. "This therapy is taking too fucking long. It's a complete waste of my time, as you're just prolonging this to justify your job. Do you like ripping off my scabs constantly? Secretly, do you like watching me bleed for you? Over and over again? Shall I open a fucking vein for you so you can watch me bleed? Or are you getting off on the fact that I'm having to follow your orders with reference to my sex life. That you're the one directing everything, how long to touch and where? That's it... isn't it?"

Who the hell was I fooling? I couldn't even think of kissing John without my stomach knotting up. A voice in my mind softly told me to shut up, and to stop taking my frustrations out on Sheila. I wasn't anywhere near to "potentia coeundi", and we both knew it. While my body was more than willing, my mind and soul wouldn't allow me to even think of making love with John. But still I raged and swore, blaming my therapist for how long my healing was taking.

She had turned completely white, and I realized that I had gone entirely too far. Afterall, I was the one who had mentioned to her about my concerns about my lack of desire for intimacy with John and I was the one that had agreed to follow her advice on how to reach that goal. Realistically, the only reason why John and I were even in the same bed was because of Sheila's guidance, but I just couldn't take my words back as Sheila was absolutely furious with me.

"Perhaps, you're right, Matthew. I'm going to switch your case to another counselor. I'll talk to Archie about it." Then she had switched off the communications, telling me that I could only call her back after I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I stared at the blank screen for a minute, then realized that Sheila had just flipped me over her knee and firmly paddled my ass through the view screen.

Archie? Archie was a civilian. I had talked to him and a few others, before I had agreed to let only Sheila counsel me. Sheila was military, and she was the ONLY one that had understood why I needed to get back to the Excalibur. ARCHIE? I couldn't talk to Archie about . . . certain things . . . like the fact that I just couldn't bear to even think of having sex with John.

I called her back repeatedly for seventy-two hours, and she refused all my communications. When I asked, her assistant stated that I could only talk to her as Sheila was unavailable to me. Sheila was in the process of transferring my case to Archie, so her assistant sent me on to Archie. God. I hated Archie, as I found him smug and condenscending. It would be like talking to Eilerson, as the first thing out of his mouth would be 'I told you you weren't ready to go back to space.' Hemming and hawing for a bit, I finally begged her assistant to please apologize to Sheila for what I had said to her, and that I really wanted to speak to her.

"Please? Please tell Sheila I'm truly sorry. Don't let her transfer me to Archie. I can't talk to Archie. He just doesn't understand. Please? Can you please have her call me back?"

-=-=-=-

"Are you going to behave?" Sheila asked me, tartly, when she called me back.

"Sheila . . . I'm sorry. Truly I am." I whispered that to her, and she waved it off. "I'm . . . just scared. I'm tired and scared of always being exhausted and frightened." I started talking to her more that day, about what I had been repressing and refusing to mention to anyone. Like how . . . sometimes when John would be sleeping next to me, curled next to me like a cat, his arm wrapped around me protectively and I'd wake up shaking in terror, convinced that SHE was nearby. I had to protect him from her as SHE'D destroy him. Then he'd notice that I was awake, soothe me, and comfort me, while I trembled in fear. John would try to question me about what had terrified me, and I just couldn't tell him. I tried, but I just couldn't. I had diligently been following Sheila's advice, but it wasn't getting any easier for me. Then, I admitted my deepest fear, maybe... it would never get any easier for me, but that for John's sake, I had to do more and quickly.

"Sheila . . . I just really need to . . . go beyond this hand holding stuff. He's not going to be content with me holding his hand at night. John wants more than that." There. That was out in the open. I was nervous that John would grow tired of my fumbling attempts at communicating, my obvious distaste for physical intimacy, and that he would leave me.

"Not good enough. You're not to let things go further than your current level. Patience, my young Matthew."

"You're only a few years older than me." I had interrupted her.

"Don't interrupt. Be patient. You're pushing yourself too hard to bounce back and you're not a young man anymore, Matt." The look she gave was bemused. "Take your time. Remember, there's not a race to be won here. Instead, you've got the chance to enjoy taking things extremely slowly with your partner. If you find it erotic, great for you. If you're not finding it erotic, I have some other suggestions to make. After you prove to me that your partner's above the age of consent."

"I'll keep that under advisement," I had assured her dryly, and she had laughed again.

"Gideon" she continued softly. "If you think that you can fool John, by physically proving something just because you can't bring yourself to admit to him that you're nervous, you're wrong. Don't you think that he's going to pick that up sooner or later? Don't you realize how much that will upset him? That you're doing something with him that should be a joyful experience between two people, just because he wants it. And that, inside, you can't bear to be touched by him? If you love him, let him know. If you're afraid, then tell him. A relationship based on sweat and lust is never going to be as strong as a relationship where two people can actually talk to one another, especially about their problems."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Now it was getting to be old hat, Gideon the shaking human pretzel show, happening once a week or so. Sheila told me that it was part of the healing progress as I was finally willing to face what had happened to me. Sarah had also given John a few sedatives to use on me if I had ever reached the meltdown point again, but he never would use the drugs on me. Instead, he would try to talk me out of my panic attack. For hours, he'd talk to me, trying to calm me down.

"It's ok. It's ok. Did I make you uncomfortable?" His voice was soothing me, and I shook my head. John certainly knew enough not to touch me when I was like this, but I really wanted him to hold me. I was curled tightly up in a ball, and John was lying next to me in my bed, speaking softly to me, trying to calm me down. "What did I do? Tell me. What did I do to get you this afraid?"

"Nothing. Not at all. Just . . . " I couldn't finish my comments, and John would continue to talk to me, softly.

"Matthew . . . It's ok. What happened? Did I touch you someplace that I shouldn't have? Was it something I did that you were uncomfortable with?"

God, he thought it was his fault. Not again. It was mine, completely and totally my fault. Sheila told me to tell John what I felt, and I struggled to talk to him. "Don't want to hurt you again. Couldn't bear it. You deserve so much better than me." I forced that out, from the depths of my soul where I had hidden that thought, and for a moment, I was horrified. John was laughing softly at me. He was LAUGHING at my fear that I was going to harm him again. Didn't he understand?

"You're right. I do deserve better. Is Eilerson busy right now?" He rolled on his back, and I heard him commenting on what Eilerson's schedule probably was.

"MAX?" I was startled, and upset. EILERSON? I looked at him, realized that my Telepath was trying to hide a smile.

"I'm just kidding, Matthew." He mocked me softly, and I gave him a rather shy smile.

"Hope so, there's not enough room for anyone in the same bed with him. Not with him and his ego." I whispered that, and I was rewarded by John smiling at my comment. Point!

-=-=-=--

Our relationship continued, with each step being taken deliberately and with much consideration. While I never scanned him, I tried to keep an eye out for the little signs that usually preceded a dramatic change in Matt's temperament. He had mood swings, sometimes landing in a depression so deep and wide that I found myself worrying about him

It had been a rough week, one of his roughest since he had rescued, and I had been trying to balance out his mood swings with the rest of the crew. I don't know what had set him off, perhaps a random comment, or perhaps a memory resurfaced, but he was unbearable to one and to all that week. Especially to me, while I took it, ignored it, and pretended not to be affected by his brutal manner. Lord, his comments hurt like a whiplash on naked skin, but I pretended to ignore them. The angry man raging at me was the man I loved, who had been deeply damaged, and he was in the long, drawn out process of healing. Healing took a great deal of time, patience, strength and energy, all of which Matt had in short supply right now, so of course, he was getting furious.

-=-=-=-=-=-

It was exhausting to me that week with Gideon's mood swings, as Jones was also on board on the ship to scan me. One or the other would have been exhausting enough, but the two events combined into the same time frame was sapping my emotional strength. Perhaps that why Gideon was being so caustic and abusive to me, as though he was trying to prove something to someone or perhaps to himself. Jones had scanned me "thoroughly" and had caught a whiff of the fact that Matthew and I were involved. She poked and prodded, and shook her head in disbelief.

"A Mundane?" She had sighed in disappointment. "And a damaged one at that. We'll have to keep an eye on this relationship."

Returning to my quarters, I had a splitting headache, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for the next week. I stripped quickly, when I saw a T-shirt on the bed. It was Matthew's and he had apparently left it in my quarters when he was in my quarters. Smelling his cologne on his shirt, I decided to wear it. After today, it might be all I had left of him.

The next day, I returned to the bridge, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Jones' ship leaving the Excalibur. Turning, I had found Matthew Gideon staring at me intently, with an obvious concern for me in his eyes. Our eyes met, and then he had turned away from me, as though he was embarrassed that he had been found out.

That week during our times together, Matthew held onto me like he was drowning, and he just couldn't speak to me. A few times he had tried to avoid me, as though he was ashamed of how far he had regressed, but I manage to locate him. The day of my scan with Jones, I found him on the floor of the conference room.

"Damn it. I'm too old to lie on the floor, Matt." I growled that softly, as I found myself lying next to him on the hard floor.

That week, he would wake up screaming from his nightmares, while I tried to speak to my Captain, to get him to open up to me, but he just wouldn't talk. Whatever had caused his relapse, had also made him very jittery about being touched. Matt just couldn't tolerate me holding him, so I let him hold onto me, while I whispered to him, urging him to talk to me. That night in the conference room, something had snapped in him, and he had wept for what seemed like forever, while I stroked his hair.

But still I ran interference between him and the Excalibur crew, trying to keep everything working together while Gideon raged on in his fury and his anger. Even Jones and Gideon had gotten into a lengthy argument in Gideon's office. I just knew from Gideon's depressed mood, and his nightmare filled sleep that it had been very ugly. She had left the Excalibur earlier than scheduled, and Gideon had gone steadily deeper into his depression.

By the end of the week, I could tell his insane fury had begun to affect the crew's morale. Department heads were literally meeting me in the hallway, throwing their reports at me, and then running for their lives. Dureena and Max both were hiding in their quarters, and I hadn't seen Sarah all week. At last my temper flared, and I told him bluntly, that he and I *needed* to speak in his office.

"What's the problem?" he asked when we were alone in his office.

"YOU!" I bluntly answered him. "You've been unbelievable this past week, and you're scaring the damn crew with your Captain Matthew Gideon-Ahab searching for the white whale routine. Storming up and down the hallways . . . "

"On my bum leg" he inserted. "Or in this case, two bum legs."

Growing annoyed with his joking, I made a comment to that effect. Our words swiftly grew heated, and things were said. On both sides, so I decided the best thing to do was to walk away.

=-

John was furious with me, and rightfully so. I had been acting rather short tempered lately, taking it out on him and the crew, and I wasn't sure exactly what the cause was. Ok, I knew exactly what the cause was as Sheila had browbeaten me with her opinion during our last counseling session. Pushing myself too hard, I wasn't letting myself heal emotionally and physically from my ordeal.

On my first away mission, I managed to get two damn stress fractures in my lower legs, which weren't healing properly, causing me pain. God! It had been humiliating having Max rescue me, and having him half drag me, half carry me back to the shuttle craft, but fortunately the linguist had taken one look at my face, and wisely never said one single wisecrack. Always said Max was smart, the question always was whether Max was trying to be smart, or merely a smart ass at a particular moment in time.

Pain! I was so damn tired of pain, of suffering from it, and always inflicting it. It had been months since I had a pain-free moment.

Then that bitch Jones had decided to talk to me about her concerns about John Matheson. Jones had also been on board the ship for a few days, and I was fearful of what she had picked up from John. Trying to push John away from me while she was onboard hadn't worked, as I had found John lying in my bed one night, quietly asking me to hold him. I had, but for the next few nights, I had tried to hide, so John couldn't find me. But I would wake from my nightmares and he would be lying next to me.

I was deeply concerned about what Jones would say about our relationship. I know John had tried unsuccessfully to keep our relationship private even from the "watchers" as Jones had decided to see the "Damaged Mundane" as she had called me. John wouldn't mention anything about what was going on with his scans, stating repeatedly, that it was "him, Jones and the Rules" and that I had to respect that.

So while he tried to protect me from what he went through with her, I vowed not to mention to him that Jones had barged into my office to deep scan me. Keeping my wits about me, I had taped her interview with me. Some interview, it had quickly turned into Jones trying to scan me without my permission, claiming it was a matter of "security." She was a Goddamn fool, as if she had only gone through the proper channels, her scan of me would have been permitted. No, instead, she went on the limb and did the scan herself, without following proper procedure. I had no counsel, and no EF representative available while she scanned me. That was a violation of all known EF-Psi regulations, but she just didn't think of that.

Her deep scan that brought everything back to the surface, after I had repressed it carefully. Damn her. Damn her to hell! The tape detailed her rough attempt at scanning me, and how she had reacted when I had sent her the most brutal of the violations that I had suffered at the hands of my captors. Leaving John Matheson completely out of it, I "sent" her vivid pictures of what had happened to me down there. The mind rape, the rape of my soul and every other thing that they had done to me. I fed her pain upon pain, upon pain.

She was weeping by the time I was done with her, and my skin crawled from the fear I felt from her. "Don't you ever, ever try to do that to me again. You can't handle what I've been through." I warned her that, softly, and I realized that I wanted to shower desperately to rid myself of her mental taint. That night, I tried to stay far, far away from John as I just knew that I'd have incredible nightmares after reliving everything for that Bitch. I went to the conference room to sleep on the floor, thinking that he wouldn't find me there. Instead, when I woke up screaming from my nightmares, his warm body was next to mine. My poor Telepath was stroking my hair softly and whispering to me that it was ok for even a starship Captain to cry. I had wept that night, when I realized that I was back at square one. John was gently touching me, stroking my hair and I wanted nothing more than for him to stop before I ran like hell.

Now she was leaving, and I gave her a copy of the data crystal for "for remembrance's sake" when we said our goodbyes. Jones had looked at me with fear in her eyes. I tried to ignore the fact that she feared me as she didn't think that I was emotionally stable. If I wasn't stable, then I could easily destroy John with my instability. Maybe she was right, maybe she was wrong, but . . . could I risk her being right? Jones was leaving, apparently unhappily, as her threat to report John had been neutralized by her own attempted violation of me, and John was obviously relieved that she was off the ship. I had looked at him in concern, noting that the younger man looked exhausted. I had been embarrassed when our eyes had met, not wanting him to know that I was deeply concerned about him. Poor John, and the burdens he carried, no wonder he never smiled.

Meanwhile, Sarah had argued with me, telling me to go on light duty for a few weeks so my legs would heal, but I had ignored that. Like I ignored everything else that everyone had suggested to me. Everyone had suggestions and comments for Matthew Gideon, all of them, no doubt meaning well, but after a while, I got tired of the free advice. But I didn't ignore what Sheila was telling me to do with reference to John. Take it slow, in spite of my steadily increasing desire to make love physically with John. I wanted it so badly, and I knew he was impatient also.

Apparently, Sheila was right again, that I was working toward a complete emotional and physical collapse if I kept pushing myself, and I was grateful that EF Captain Sheila Masterson, Retired, was willing to counsel me. Especially when I was being a complete ass. Not that I'd ever tell her that, of course. Least, not while I was still her patient. Hobbling, I went to Sarah, and she put me on light duty so fast, that my head was spinning.

I took the next few days off from the joys of Captaincy, letting John run the ship. He had obviously picked up a few things from his tour of duty with the indomitable Makam, so I enjoyed reading his reports, as he would oftentimes slyly slide in a phrasing or two that was viciously funny. But he didn't come to my quarters to speak with me, and I steadily grew worried that I had ruined things between us.

His last words to me before he left was my office had frightened me.

"I'm tired of you pushing me away, and then yanking me back in. I don't know what the hell to expect with you anymore, and I'm not even sure if you want a relationship anymore. If you don't want to be involved with me, that's fine, I'll still stay on the Excalibur, but I am so Goddamn tired of being your punching bag, Matthew."

I thought of that comment repeatedly, especially when I woke up in the middle of the night, and I stretched my hand out, hoping to feel warmth where his body had been. But he didn't sleep with me, and my bed was solitary and cold.

He had been extremely patient with me, and I knew he wanted more than I could give him for such a long time. Perhaps John had already decided not to wait for me any longer? Putting a call into Sheila, I was annoyed to find out that she was busy talking to someone else, and that she'd get back to me. The nerve of her! Actually having another client besides me, I growled at the blank screen. Repeatedly I called her, and each time she was *busy*.

After a few times when she was busy, I realized that Sheila was telling me in no uncertain terms, that it was long past time to stand on my own. So, I paced, ok . . . limped, and I thought, and I analyzed. Things hadn't been very pleasant for John, and . . . I couldn't blame him if he had decided not to wait for one screwed up Captain to get his head screwed back on straight again. I mean, I kept hurting him over and over again. Maybe after his session with Jones, John had decided that it was better to end our relationship. Maybe even now, he was trying to find the way to tell me that it was over, before it had ever truly begun. But he had put the ball in my court, telling me to figure out what I wanted. Maybe... he secretly still wanted to be involved, but maybe he was getting tired of my mood swings, and my inability to take that step he wanted.

Maybe John was tired of the never ending pain, and maybe he . . . wanted some joy for once. Happiness and joy that he simply couldn't get from me as I was too badly damaged. He deserved it, and maybe I should have told John to go find it with someone else when he had agreed to try our relationship again. Maybe Sarah? She was a healer, and she would have healed the heartache that I had caused him. That thought pained me, so I decided to go to his quarters. I had to act quickly, before I lost my courage. Before John decided that he was tired of dealing with the never-ending sorrow that came from being involved with Matthew Gideon.

Maybe I was looking too heavily into the "maybe's" of our relationship. Perhaps I was just over analyzing the situation between us, and perhaps I wasn't. Perhaps Sheila really was busy. Perhaps . . . she wasn't. Maybe, maybe not. Maybe John wanted a simple yes or no answer, or maybe... he wanted something more.

I found John sleeping in his bed, and I decided upon what I should do next. To hell with Sheila's advice, I just didn't want to risk losing John. While I was settling next to him in bed, he woke up.

"Matthew? What are you doing here?"

I answered him with a kiss. I was absolutely terrified that I was going to lose him, and I was fearful about what I was going to do next. Sheila counseled patience, but I couldn't lose John. It had been five months since I had returned to my ship, and he had been so patient, waiting for me. Grabbing my shattered courage, I continued to kiss him, gently.

-=-=-=-=-

He didn't answer my question, instead, he decided to kiss me, ignoring Sheila's recommendation that he postpone that step for a little while more. Sheila was a great counselor, but her instructions to Matt were driving me wild with desire, making me hope that each night together was going to finally be "the" night we could continue to the next level. Her ideas of non-erotic touching usually found me quite aroused and wanting Matthew like mad. I kept telling her that the problem wasn't with me wanting Matthew, it was with Matthew desiring ME. She had laughed and told me to be patient.

We continued kissing for some time, and I could feel how afraid he was that he was never going to be 'normal' again. He began touching me, again ignoring Sheila's instructions for patience, deliberately touching those areas that she had deemed off limits. I responded ardently to his kiss, wanting to make love with Matthew. It had been over a year since our one night together, and I craved his touch.

I found that Matt's hand had slipped beneath my briefs, and he was playing with my erection gently. "Sheila . . . said . . . not to do this . . . yet." I moaned while he continued playing with my body, while I tried to regain control of this situation.

"Fuck Sheila." He growled. "What she doesn't know, won't hurt her. Besides, you've been patient with me for the longest time, and I know . . . you want more. I'll be really careful this time with you, like I should have been our first time." Gently, he was still touching my erection, lightly tracing my tip, while I closed my eyes. For the longest time, all he did was caress and fondle me, his large hands gentle and possessive. I was quite content to allow him to do it, as I was enjoying the delightful shivers throughout my body. Matthew was trying so hard to be careful with me that I could feel that he was shaking from the effort. Matt kept whispering at me not to be afraid that he would be so very gentle with me, to make up for our first time.

It was going to be so easy to let him continue, and I felt shivers down my spine from his touch. So close. So very close. No. NO! Sheila had said he wasn't ready for this yet, as Matt was still trying to emotionally recover from what those women had done to him.

I had spoken to her briefly when she had arrived on the Excalibur to meet Matthew face to face. Matt's early return to the Excalibur was a concern to EF, so they had sent a few observers to watch him at work. They had arrived several months after he had retaken command of the Excalibur, and she had hitched a ride along, just to offer her moral support. I knew better, and so did Matt. Sheila was the one who was deciding if Matt was stable enough to command again.

She was a former EF officer who had gone through something similar in her past, and had been discharged from EF due to her resulting disability. Gideon hadn't mentioned to me that she had a tendency to cruise about in her warp powered wheelchair at light speed. I often found her in some spot of the ship she shouldn't be, watching Gideon closely during his interactions with his crew.

Her observation of Gideon made him nervous, and he'd often look at her, trying to figure out how her report on him would be slanted. Sheila would wave at him cheerfully, and tell him to continue, that she was just part of the background.

"No. Never could I consider you part of the background, Sheila." His tone of voice plainly said he'd be quite willing to never let her step foot, or wheel, on his ship again. It would have fooled anyone who didn't know Matthew as well as I did as I knew Matt respected her greatly.

"He says the sweetest things, doesn't he?" Sheila's voice was droll, and Sarah Chambers and I had laughed at that comment while Matt grimaced.

I found her a lively personality with an absolute complete disregard for anything resembling protocol. I never found out what exactly had happened to her, but I knew that she had decided to continue serving EF in the only way she knew how, by counseling others. For some reason, she had decided that I needed some counseling also, so I found myself having lunch with her regularly during her stays on the Excalibur. She was easy to talk to, and I found myself unburdening myself to her about . . . certain things.

"If I wasn't military, Matthew wouldn't be talking to me. If I wasn't a 'senior officer', he still wouldn't be talking to me. His head isn't screwed on straight yet, and you, have to make sure that he doesn't do something stupid. Matthew's already left against medical advice from the hospital after his first round of surgeries, because he 'needed' to get back to the Excalibur. Your role in this, as his XO and his friend, is to make sure that if he's being stupid, and pushing himself too fast, you've got to put the brakes on. Hard. But diplomatically, if at all possible."

"So are you going to let Matthew Captain again?" I had asked her.

"No. Matthew is the one that's going to let Matthew Captain again. Not the board of Inquiry. He has to make his own decisions and live with them." She had paused, and gave me a rather searching look. "Do me a favor and warn whomever he's involved with, the very same thing. For some reason, he has a lot of unresolved guilt in that relationship, so he might do something really reckless and rather stupendously stupid. Since he won't tell me who he's involved with, I'm assuming it's someone on board the Excalibur?"

I didn't really answer that question, and she had given me a slight smile.

"Not that I'm saying anything, because even I did say something, under EF regulations everything said by and to a counselor is protected. Couldn't use our conversations in court, military or otherwise, if they tried. If his . . . significant other . . . needs to talk, give that person my number. OK?"

"I'll pass it on. They just might take you up on your advice" I admitted.

"Absolutely, Lt. Matheson. Tell them I don't bite, and everything remains private. No matter how tawdry it gets."

I had talked to her occasionally after that, nervously admitting to her that I was the one involved with Gideon, and she had been completely nonjudgmental about my relationship with my Captain. Sheila was the one that had told me that after Gideon and I had argued that the best thing was to step back, and let Gideon decide to approach me. Up until now, I had been focusing on Matthew's needs in our relationship, and it was time to remind him that there was actually another person in this relationship besides Matthew. For the last few months, I had been his sounding board, and his crutch. Now it was time for Matthew to stand on his own again, and realize how difficult it had been for me during this.

I wasn't going to suddenly stop supporting Matthew through his healing process, but remind him that I also had my own issues I needed to address in our relationship. One moment, Matthew would be pushing me away from him, as though fearing that he would destroy me, the next moment, he would be holding onto me tightly during the night, shaking and not saying a single word. Matthew needed to decide how he wanted to continue with our relationship. It was exhausting being involved with Matthew, as though I was on a never ending roller coaster of emotional highs and lows, and I just wanted to know one simple thing. Did he truly want to be involved with me or was it guilt?

All this and more raced through my mind, and I realized that I had to be the sane one in this relationship, and slam the brakes on this quickly. Matthew had over analyzed everything that had happened between us to the point where he thought his only way of salvaging our relationship was to take this step. RIGHT NOW. If he was ready for it or not, it didn't matter to him. Matt was going to seduce me because he thought he'd lose me if he didn't make love with me *right* now. That was my answer to my question, Matthew wanted to be involved with me, even though he was terrified.

"Matthew?"

God, I wanted this, but I don't think he was ready for this as Matthew was shaking like a leaf while he was trying to seduce me.

He was terrified, but still my Matthew continued touching me, obviously forcing himself to continue with my seduction. My older, more experienced lover kept promising to me that he wouldn't hurt me, that he'd take things slow and carefully, so I would be emotionally and physically comfortable with everything that was going to happen tonight. It was a startling thought, but suddenly, I realized that Matthew was terrified of what was happening between us. That if I even whispered "STOP" at him, he'd probably end in the position he called the human pretzel.

Matthew knew I wanted this, and he also knew that I was having doubts about the viability of our relationship. So he had decided the best thing to do, was to make love with me tonight, physically showing me what he just couldn't verbalize to me. Matthew loved me, and he wanted me to stay. My wounded Captain, so afraid of hurting me, and so very terrified of losing me, was going to take this step before he was emotionally ready, just so I wouldn't leave him. When we made love together, I wanted it to happen because he wanted it, not because Matthew thought I was getting impatient with his healing process. Still his hand was slowly caressing me, and I tried to keep my sanity, which I found out, is very damn hard to do when someone is busy playing with your nipples.

"Matthew." I gasped that while he sucked on my nipple. Carefully, carefully, I had to stop this. RIGHT NOW.

"Yes, John." His hands were continuing to wander, and I realized . . . that I really, really didn't want him to stop. But he wasn't ready for this. His mouth was on my neck, gently nuzzling it, and I suddenly realized that I wanted nothing more than to start kissing him back. If I didn't stop it right now, the two of us would end up doing something that Matthew would probably regret immediately afterwards. Matthew trusted me, and I knew this wasn't right.

"STOP. You better stop for a minute. Now. I really want this. I really do. But . . . are you honestly, ready for this step? Ask yourself if you are, because if you're not, you better stop right now."

Matthew thought about it for a long minute, and the fact that he pondered about it for so long, told me that he realized that he wasn't emotionally or mentally strong enough to take the next step. I was slightly disappointed. Ok, very disappointed, and quite aroused to boot. Regretfully, I moved his hand from where I would have been rather content for him to have kept it.

"Matt. Stop pushing so hard. I'm not going anywhere."

"What if you don't want to wait? It's been months, John. And I still see them, think of what they did to me, and I just want to be normal again."

"In time, I promise you. I will make it up to you. But not now; your scars aren't fully healed as the wounds are too deep. I'm sorry. I really . . . wanted . . . tonight."

"So did I" he whispered.

-=-=-=

That night we talked quietly about many things, lying side by side in my bed. Matthew hesitantly asked me how my meeting with Jones had gone, and I had assured him that things had gone quite well. She hadn't picked up anything in her scan that was considered a violation of psi-EF rules. It wasn't a lie, as what she had picked up was actually a violation of the unwritten rule of Telepaths and Mundanes being involved. Matthew sighed, and asked me if I was telling him everything? Or was I forgetting something?

"She came into my office, and tried to scan me. I taped the entire thing so if she tried anything. They'll find out that she tried to do an unauthorized scan on me. God. It brought... *everything*... back." Then Matthew whispered "I'd... understand if you... didn't want to continue...our relationship. So you wouldn't have to hide... it... from Jones."

"Matt. Are you being too protective again?" I was annoyed, as Matthew was trying to push me away, thinking that I was a child, and needed to be protected. Lord, one moment he was seducing me, and then the next minute he was trying to push me away.

"Am not."

"Are too. Do you always overprotect your lovers?"

"I'm always protective of my XO's." His voice grew soft, and I knew he was going to tease me. "Especially since I've slept with every single one of them. Even the forty-seven I went through when you were out exploring the galaxy with Makam, the fire breathing Dragon Space Captain." Matthew often asked me about my tour of duty with Makam, and he apparently enjoyed my impersonations of those foolish enough to have gotten on her bad side. Now, his voice was soft, and pensive. "I have to make things right with those poor guys, I do." My scared lover sighed softly, and I knew that he was heading toward another period of severe depression.

"Including Mackenzie?" I was going to tease him right back, trying to keep him from that pit of depression at his feet. I knew he and Mackey hadn't gotten along. Mackey was humorless and he had been completely by the book, which had given Gideon fits.

"I use to dominate Mackey all the time. Slapped him around a few times, and he lost that damn attitude of his." His voice was sleepy, and I curled up next to him.

"Go to sleep, Matt. Sleep tight. We'll face tomorrow, together, ok?"

"Just so nervous that I'll hurt you again . . . " Matthew whispered.

I kissed my fingers, and touched his cheek. "Stop trying to push me away, I'm just as stubborn as you are. I'm not leaving."

"I'm so ashamed. I've been absolutely horrible to my crew lately. What must they think of me? They must be ashamed of having me as their Captain. They deserve better than me."

That was a new thought from Matthew, and maybe that's what had precipitated his mood swing, so I questioned him softly.

"Do you really want to know what they're thinking?" I asked him that softly.

He sighed. "It's probably not very flattering."

"You are right. They are ashamed." Matthew moaned softly, tried to hide it, and I continued to talk to him, trying to let my words score on him. "They're ashamed of themselves. They're ashamed and horrified that their Captain was abducted right under their nose. That the Dya had to come in and rescue you because the Excalibur crew just wasn't sufficient. Every Goddamn one of them is ashamed that another Captain had to come in with HER crew and HER people to rescue THEIR Captain. Makam didn't have the time to be diplomatic, so she put every one of her people that she knew and trusted in whatever position the Excalibur needed. O'Neill was the head of the rescue team; St. John was the one that re-wired the ship, Zbignewski, Chen, Andersen and the rest. So this rather fierce Captain Makam came in, breathing fire, I might add, and quickly decided that their best wasn't good enough for her. So she took over."

"She didn't mean it to come across that she believed that the Excalibur crew wasn't trying or that their best wasn't good enough, but she had to act quickly because we weren't sure if you were still alive or not. Makam's pretty smart so she realized that the Excalibur crew was embarrassed and humiliated. So while we were out rescuing you, she went around and talked to every department, trying to make them feel better about what they had managed to accomplish."

"It didn't work though. Not at all, because when their Captain came back, he couldn't look them in eyes. So they thought that it was because they failed HIM, not because the Captain thought that he had failed his crew. Or that he was ashamed of what happened to him, because he believed for some reason, that he deserved it and that it just proved that he was a horrible person who didn't deserve their respect and their concern."

"So... Let me assure you, my Captain, that your crew thinks they failed you. Galen believes it because he wasn't there when you needed him. Eilerson believes it as he hadn't managed to locate where you were being held before the Dya showed up, and he still believes it, because he was on the away team when you over did it, causing you to get two stress fractures in your leg. Sarah believes it because she offered to oversee your medical care and Makam ordered her to stay with the Excalibur. And Dureena believes that she failed you, like she believes she failed so many other people in her life, simply because she didn't trust O'Keefe from the get-go."

"And... I believed I failed you."

"John...."

"Because I left the Excalibur because of what happened between us. If it hadn't happened, or if I hadn't left, O'Keefe never would have been on board, damn it."

Matthew was silent for a while, and I let him ponder what I had said to him, hoping that he heard what I said to him.

"I'll start talking to the departments tomorrow. And I really better talk to my senior staff and tell them everything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matthew had an informal get together with his senior staff the next day in his quarters. It took an extreme act of courage for him to do so, but he began by thanking them for putting up with him since he had returned to the Excalibur. He stumbled for a bit, as though fearing Galen's and Eilerson's silver edged tongues, but the two men had been forewarned by me to keep their comments to a minimum during this meeting. Matthew talked to them for over an hour, telling them exactly what happened to him planetside, about his long rehabilitation, that he was undergoing counseling, and the fact that the trial date had been set.

"So, right now, I'm reliving everything, because once I get on the witness stand, it's going to be ugly. What I really wanted to say was... I know some of you have this feeling that you failed me. That for some reason, you have it in your heads that your best wasn't good enough and that somehow what occurred to me was due to your inability. It wasn't. Your best far exceeds my best, which is why I know this crew will find the Cure for the Plague. Now, just put up with me for a while longer, and if I'm too cranky, let me know."

"Absolutely." That was Dureena who gave Matthew a fond smile.

"Diplomatically." Matthew threw that back at her, and the group laughed softly.

"Darn." Eilerson mumbled.

=-=-=-==-=-=-

It took several months before he'd kiss me. Our first real kiss was awkward, and I "heard" him curse mentally when our noses bumped. Matthew was rather annoyed when I laughed. It was rather funny, after all, two grown men, both EF Officers, trying to figure out where to put everything together. He was embarrassed, and I realized that he was still rather hesitant about our physical relationship. Matthew was willing to face a Drakh unarmed, but kissing me scared the hell out of him. But his fear of intimacy was not only because of his kidnapping, but also because of what had happened between us.

"John. He's carrying a lot of guilt on his shoulders because of your relationship." Sheila had sighed during one of our chats. "He won't tell me why, and of course, I know you won't. But it's making it hard to treat him. Matt's getting annoyed as I won't release him from counseling yet. The others are quite happy with the progress he made, but I'm not. He's repressing too much."

"You're a tough taskmaster." I had told her, and she had laughed.

"I pride myself on it. Now, you will start practicing kissing and nothing else for a while. You are to not to touch him, and no massaging of his aching feet... No matter how he complains that his feet hurt, and that he really would like you to massage his... feet, you're not to touch him." The look she gave me was wicked, and I blushed.

I interrupted. "He told you?"

"Matheson." She sighed. "I know things about you that would embarrass you. By the way, blushing makes you absolutely adorable. Just take a word of advice from me. Around this part of the curriculum, Matthew might decide that he wants to... consummate your relationship, especially since you're beyond the petting stage. By all means, go right ahead, and enjoy it, as long as MATTHEW'S the one that decided that he wants to make love. If he doesn't make a move, you're to continue the way I instructed you earlier. If we get to stage number four in which you do nothing but pleasure him, and he isn't ready to jump you in the hallways after three months of that, we'll have to get out the really big guns for stage five. Trust me, you'll enjoy it, though Matthew might be a little stunned." Sheila giggled loudly, while I stared at her in horror. She was EVIL.

Now it was time again for our "homework." Honestly, I rather enjoyed the assignments especially the one suggestion about the ice cubes. I leaned forward, and I tried kissing him. And again, we bumped our noses. Giving him a wide grin, I was heartened by the fact that he was now grinning at me, shyly.

"I feel like I'm back in junior high again" he whispered. "Trying to figure out how to do this. Don't move."

"Is that an order?" I asked quietly.

A kiss was my only answer. It was a gentle touch as our lips met, and he suddenly pulled back. "Sorry," he whispered. Watching Matthew while he was rubbing his hands through his hair, I realized again, how nervous he was with our relationship.

-=-=-=

Step by tentative step, our relationship continued. After we were comfortable with kissing, I was going to be the one to take the next step. It was a rather big step as I was going to ... Well. Take advantage of him. Sheila had decided that for this step, it would be best if I was the one to initiate it.

"Don't allow him to touch you. You can touch him, but he simply isn't allowed to touch you. Matthew can't be in charge of this, as he's got to understand the simple fact that he is not the dominant lover in this relationship. He's got to trust you enough to let you pleasure him. I understand that he's a little bit more experienced that you are."

"Don't try to prove anything to him. Matheson, remember to think erotic. Don't think you have to try something terribly exotic, as it would probably make him rather jumpy. Restraining him to the bedposts and dripping wax on various body parts is most assuredly NOT an option right now. I shouldn't mention this, but I think he's having a severe case of performance anxiety. Stage fright, if you will. Be gentle, Matheson."

I refrained from adding how much more Gideon was experienced in the matters of sex. Sheila knew enough and didn't need to know everything.

"Look, I know that... Matthew's your first serious relationship."

"Oh God. He told you?" I was embarrassed, but Sheila quickly reassured me.

"No, it's just you're so intent on doing everything perfectly for him. It's obvious to me that you care deeply for him. You two gentlemen have told me separately, that you want an equal partnership in this relationship. Matt's a Starship Captain, and sometimes we have the ability to completely overwhelm the personality of whomever we're involved with. He's also said a few things that makes me think that perhaps your first time was a little..." Sheila waved her hands, and I was glad she didn't finish her sentence.

"He didn't know, and I didn't tell him."

"Oh. So he feels guilty about that, so that's why you're going to be the one to take this step. Matt would probably put it off as long as he could, just because he's scared of hurting you again."

I couldn't help but think that if Matthew was having performance anxiety, then I was in the midst of a full-blown crisis. I had absolutely no experience in seducing someone. NONE.

"Good luck. And I don't need to mention the fact to you that I don't recommend you "sharing" with him. Not yet." Sheila was warning me not to share my Telepathic sensations with Matthew. I agreed softly, as she smiled. "Soon, it will be soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walked into his office, and I overrode the lock on the door. We were scheduled for a meeting of several hours, and I had decided that it was time to take the next step. Discussing the needs for crew roster changes, I noticed that Matthew was favoring one shoulder. He was rubbing it during our conversation and I noticed that he was sitting stiffly.

"You over did it in the gym, didn't you?" I asked him dryly.

"Somewhat. My left shoulder's rather tight." Matthew admitted that to me, waiting for the lecture to begin. Both Sarah and I had been yelling at him for overdoing it for so long that it had become second nature to the three of us. We'd bluster and yell and he'd ignore us. He was surprised when I kept my mouth shut, so he gave me a questioning look.

"Why don't you lie on the floor, and I'll massage it for you?" Nervously, I gave him an innocent smile. "If you want, I'll give you a full body massage."

"Is this Sheila's idea?" His look was bemused, and I grinned. Matthew had been somewhat uncomfortable with the fact that I was talking to Sheila, originally, but he had learned to accept it as Sheila kept matters strictly private among all her clients. Including me.

"No. But if you want, I'll call her." Offering that idea helpfully, I waited for his response.

"Fuck Sheila" he retorted.

"She might be interested if you ask nicely." I was amazed when Gideon blushed slightly. "Just another service she offers." I said dryly. "She's kind of attractive, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind. Can I watch so I can pick up some pointers?"

"You've really picked up a tremendous amount of bad habits from Makam. I don't remember you ever being sarcastic before you joined the Dya."

I didn't say anything as he stripped off his black jacket. With a wicked smile, he undid his belt, and he took off his pants. From somewhere he got out a blanket, and he laid it on the floor, then positioned himself face down on the blanket. He was only wearing his boxers, and I smiled slightly. Nervously, I carefully knelt next to him, and I began to massage his shoulders carefully, glad that I had thought ahead and brought a small container of massage lotion. I wasn't going to straddle his body as that would probably have made him nervous. Instead, this was just going to be a massage, nothing more. Or maybe not?

"You're really tight, Matthew. This could take a while." Concentrating on the knots that were painfully tight, I felt him sigh softly. "Relax. Enjoy this."

I massaged his back for some time, and I knew that he was getting drowsy from the way his voice was sounding. Concentrating on his shoulders, which led naturally to his arms, his back then to his legs . . . and then . . . to his feet. I knew that Matt couldn't resist that. Soon, I was whispering at him to roll over, and he agreed to it sleepily.

Deliberately, I covered his chest with the massage oil, and I massaged him carefully, slowly, and I knew he was getting aroused. He was looking at me with his hazel eyes, and I saw that Matthew really wanted this. Leaning over, I kissed him, softly, and I felt Matt move his arms to try and touch me.

"No. None of that tonight. Tonight is completely and totally for you. If you're the slightest bit uncomfortable, and you want me to stop, tell me. I'll stop right then and there. Ok?" I looked at him intently, and I waited for his response. God, I was so nervous! He nodded, and I kissed him again while continuing to stroke his chest. "It's a good thing you have the blanket. Else they'd wonder what the stain on the rug is."

"Gideon's jerking off on the rug again" he answered me softly. "Poor lonely Captain, always lying on the floor of his office, masturbating like hell, yelling about firing his main gun when he comes. Always leaves the mess for housekeeping to clean."

"As long as he's not having a torrid affair with his first officer. So" I drawled carefully, enjoying the fact that I was teasing him with my fingers. "Gideon likes lying on the floor?"

"He's always on the floor, wishing that someone like Dureena or Sarah would come in at the right time." He whispered that, and slightly moaned when I began licking his nipple. "Or Galen. One wonders about if it's true about Technomages."

Deliberately, I sucked on his nipple and I felt his hand move to touch me. "No. Don't. Matthew, else I'll stop."

"Please, don't you stop." His voice was a whisper, and I began teasing his other nipple, gently biting it.

"What's the rumor about Mages?" I questioned.

"Bigger the cloak, bigger the staff." Matthew was gasping softly, and I focused on what I was doing which was rubbing my tongue over his nipple.

"The bigger the ego." My shielding was so tight that I wasn't sure that he was enjoying this. Would I ever be able to make love with him mind to mind again?

"That too. But actually, Gideon, lies on the floor a lot, and wishes for one specific person to drop by and see what's up." He moved his hands, and I realized that he wasn't going to touch me. Instead, he was holding his hands next to his face and rubbing them against his face.

I was stroking his stomach, and I realized that I was really enjoying my chance to play with Matthew. I enjoyed it especially because he couldn't do a damn thing except relax and enjoy. Hopefully. "So, who does the Captain want to show his main gun off to?" My hand was sliding down beneath his waistband. "The Gunnery Sergeant?" Gently, I touched him, and I felt him gasp in response.

"No." I could barely hear him as he was whispering softly.

"The head of security?" Carefully, I wrapped my hand around his erection.

"No."

"Is it his XO?" I teased him slightly.

"No . . . "

"Really? I think Gideon should know that his XO has a crush on him." I was trying to tease him, and he smiled at my efforts.

"Not John." He whispered that at me shyly, and I grinned at him. "John's too respectable to ever think of seducing his Captain."

"Yes, I'm afraid that John's a rather bad boy. Secretly his XO loves it when Gideon is standing at attention." I squeezed him gently, enjoying his gasp. "Firmly." Squeeze. "Erect." Squeeze. "John delights in the fact that he's got such a hands on Captain." I squeezed him hard and I felt his body shift. "But you're telling me, Gideon doesn't want to show his main gun off to his XO."

"Nooo..." he whispered that.

"Who then?" I squeezed him softly, and he again gasped. "Dureena?" Squeeze. "Sarah?" I squeezed him harder, felt tingles in my back when he gasped in response. "I know. EILERSON!"

"Oh..."

"So, you're telling me Eilerson drops by to see Gideon showing off his main gun?" I regrettably moved my hand from his body, and I began tugging at his underwear. Matthew shifted his weight slightly allowing me to slide his underwear from his waist.

"Y-y-es. He's... rather impressed by the caliber."

"I am too, to be honest."

He laughed softly at me.

His erection freed, I carefully kissed it, and I heard Matthew gasp softly again. He had complained about me being quiet the first time and now he wasn't being very vocal either! "So, I suppose Eilerson shows off his linguist's skills to the masturbating captain."

"Yes. It's all... in the tongue... and mouth Max says."

Using my tongue and my lips on Matthew, I taunted him carefully, and I felt him trembling in desire. I teased him for some time, delaying and prolonging his release, until he came softly. With a long sigh, and I was delighted. I kissed my way back up to his face, and whispered "That sounded like you really enjoyed it. Did you?"

"Yes... and no..." Matthew admitted.

I was obviously disappointed, and Matthew sighed. "Absolutely incredible for me, but ... not so good for you."

"In time, but you need to relearn to enjoy this before you worry about me enjoying it."

-=-=-=-=-

I had known from the minute that he had grinned shyly at me and offered to massage my shoulder what John was planning. Sheila had warned me repeatedly that Matheson was going to be the one to take the relationship beyond the hand holding and kissing stage, and I had been upset. I owed John an absolutely incredible experience after our first time together, and Sheila had told me bluntly that it wasn't going to be my turn to lead.

We had been talking together in person, quietly, in my office, when she had told me that news. She and I had been in counseling for almost nine months now, and occasionally she'd "drop" in to say "Hello" to her favorite "Space Case." My face had fallen slightly, and she had given me a penetrating look. "What's the problem, Matt?"

"I... was hoping that I'd be the one?" I whispered that softly.

"Why? You get to lie back and relax while John has to do all the hard work." Sheila had smirked that comment at me, until she took a look at my eyes. She had gotten quite good at reading my facial expressions, and my counselor turned serious. "Seriously, what's the problem?"

"I'm . . . a little bit more experienced than he is, so I was hoping." I had paused for a bit, and I was grateful she was letting me take my time to finish what I wanted to say. "It's been a rather tumultuous relationship, so I . . . want it to be . . . I . . . owe him . . . I really . . . need . . . " I gave her a gesture that meant that I wasn't going to say anything more, and she leaned back in her chair. I needed to make sure our next time together was incredible for him. In fact, I had already decided that I would make sure that John was completely satisfied after we had made love. Why the hell was she shaking her head in disapproval?

Sheila reached over and squeezed my hand, softly. "Funny, I think he might feel the same way. You've got to learn to trust, Matt, especially in the realm of sexuality. Here's the plan. When he decides that it's the right time to take things further, you can't do a damn thing except talk to him. No touching, my Captain. After all you've been through, you don't need the added pressure of having to perform for him. Neither on the first time, nor the second . . . or possibly even for weeks... or maybe even months. So, no touching. That's an order!"

"None?" My voice was plaintive, and she flashed me her quick grin.

"None. He'll stop everything if you even try. So, you have to relax and enjoy what he does to you."

We had argued about her plan for a bit, until I unfortunately gave into her demands. That had been a few weeks ago, and now I was resting after John's intensive efforts. He had kissed his way back up to his face, and whispered "That sounded like you really enjoyed it. Did you?"

"Yes... and no..." I admitted. Looking at his face, I could tell that John was obviously disappointed, and I sighed. "Absolutely incredible for me, but ... not so good for you." I whispered that softly, and he smiled at me. I hadn't seen him smile like that in years.

"In time, but you need to relearn to enjoy this before you start to worry about me enjoying it." John kissed me gently and he noticed that I was rather drowsy, so he covered me with the blanket. "Go to sleep, Matt."

-=-=-=-=-=

Several months later.

I was lightly dozing in my bed, when suddenly I heard him walk over to the bed. Silently, he stripped, and then crawled into the bed next to me. Carefully, and slowly he kissed my neck, and I turned to face him. "Matthew?" I asked softly, "Tonight?" and Matthew nodded his head. We kissed hesitantly for a bit, and he broke away.

"Please, John, share your thoughts with me. I need to know that . . . you're enjoying this, completely." His voice was extremely soft and gentle, and I realized that I hadn't heard that tone in his voice for the longest of times.

[And I need to know that you're completely ready for this.] I sent to him.

That night, Matthew showed me what happens when two people who loved each other make love physically, and I taught him how to make love mind to mind. It was . . . incredible, sharing my mind and body with the only person I have ever loved, and that it is all I will ever say about it.

Even to Sheila.

end