Pursuit and Capture

BY : Bebe
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 701
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Pursuit and Capture

Author: Bebe

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Nope. Still nothin’ except my copies of the DVDs.

Spoilers: A particular Nietzschean being on the crew in season four.

Feedback: Please send comments to mouse3of3@yahoo.com.

Pairing: Beka/TRhade

Archive: At AU and AFF. All others please ask.

Summary: There are few things a Nietzschean likes more than hunting.

Author's Note: This little ficlet diverges somewhere around mid-season four. Not sure where it came from, just felt like writing it.

 

Rhade had been eager to get away from Command deck after his shift. He suspected Dylan would have been more sympathetic to that had he realized the significance of the date, but as it was he had to shake the captain in order to be at the door to his quarters only a few minutes late. Even then, the room was empty when he entered. Suspiciously so, given that the only item out of place was a flexi lying dead center on the bed.

It was a simple message: Take the nearest ladder to Deck 13. Accordingly, he ducked into the bathroom to ensure presentability before exiting his quarters again and turning left.

Deck 13, when he reached it, was likewise empty except for a small flexi stuck to the upright of the ladder. Come find me. He turned it over, looking for more information, but there was none. Rhade smiled, though it probably bore more resemblance to a feral baring of teeth, and he lifted the flexi to his nose. It smelled like Beka, of course, but with a strong hint of vanilla— something that would make tracking her easier. He sniffed the air.

Her scent was distinct on this deck, unused as it was, but she’d made it more of a challenge. Rather than a straightforward path, she’d paused in a few places to let her scent pool, touched walls in some halls but not others, once crossed her own path. He was intent on her trail, though, disinclined to be swayed from his quest. Eventually the trail stopped at another ladder, with another small flexi. You’re getting warmer. Keep going. Rhade hesitated, not sure what to make of the note, but then caught another hint of her scent. She’d gone up the ladder.

He followed the trail up one level, then another, and almost bypassed the correct deck before realizing that she had gotten back off the ladder there. He smiled again, real humor this time, when he started to follow her again and it set in that her scent was leading him back to his quarters. Finally he reached the door again, walking a few paces past first just to be sure. It opened easily at his touch.

The lights in the room were low, with scattered candles lending almost as much illumination as the fixtures. The small coffee table in front of the couch held more candles, plus plates of food, stemmed glasses, and a bottle in ice. Beka sat, in something gold that glittered in the flicker of the flames and exposed her shoulders and long long legs. His quarry, willing and waiting for him.

Her smell filled the room here, but still he followed her trail, drawing close and teasing out not only that vanilla overlay but also her arousal, warm and unmistakable. As he came to stand at the end of the sofa she looked up at him and smiled, mischief on her lips. “Well?”

Rhade bared his teeth.

Within seconds he had her pinned, on her back with the silky thing she wore pulled up above her hips. Rather than fight, as he half-expected, she capitulated. She exposed her neck and gave him what he wanted, letting him possess her. The long build-up of the hunt had him heated and aching, in no mood for slow and gentle, and he bit her shoulder hard at the peak.

Afterward, he was almost embarrassed to meet her eyes, suspecting that her satisfaction was not as complete as his. When he finally did, lifting his head to see her clearly, she was still smiling anyway. She raised an eyebrow. “Happy anniversary?”

His attempt to muffle his laughter against her chest was unsuccessful. “Yes.”

She pulled him up for a kiss before gently pushing him away. He let her up, let her ease off the sofa, and she swept her arm in a gesture that encompassed the table. “Help yourself.” He didn’t until after she’d closed the door of the small bathroom, preferring instead to study the sway of her hips. Even then he only opened the bottle, pouring the glasses full of something fruity and fizzy, waiting to raise one in a silent toast until after Beka rejoined him.

Leisurely they ate and drank, alternating between companionable quiet and slow, easy chat, enjoying the uninterrupted time together. He fed her some bites, her lips brushing his fingers and sending him into a slow burn. Eventually, the bottle’s fizz gone and the candles burning low, she stood and urged him to his feet, led him to the bed where she’d turned down the sheets already.

This time around was as slow and easy as the conversation, Rhade sliding down her body and making her whimper before indulging himself this time. It was a long while, this time around, until they lay together, breath coming fast but slowing. Not for the first time, he wished in the aftermath that she would allow conception. Quietly, watching carefully for a response, he said, “I love you.”

She hesitated, looked unsure, and he wondered if he shouldn’t have said it at all. Then she told him, even more quietly, “You, too.” Glad of the response, he kissed her in thanks. She smiled fleetingly before reaching for the blanket. It took both of them to arrange it over them. Once it was, they tucked close, and he lay enjoying her warmth and sweet smell in silence.

He was falling asleep there, brought back to full awareness when Beka asked, amusement in her voice, “Do you think you would want to be tracked instead?”

He pressed another kiss to her skin, her neck so she couldn’t see his eagerness: “We’ll certainly have to try."

 

The End



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