The storm had been tracked and predicted but its intensity had grown over the afternoon, catching all those out doors unawares. Including Tom Paris, who had been walking across the field from Seafield house, in an attempt to return to Voyager when it began. She was parked only 5 kilometres away and from the mansion’s fourth floor you could see her cresting over the ridge that had defended the sand stone property over its long history.
Yet with the wind buffeting every step and turning even the shingle path into a river of muddy slime, he only managed to get a kilometre from the house before giving it up as hopeless and turning back. As he half ran half slid back towards the house he realised the evening was drawing in and he was relying more on the lights shinning out of the property’s many windows to guide him in the right direction than the building its self.
The first lighting flash brought Paris to a stop, its white fork cut the horizon in half and he stood counting the seconds while he listened for the rumble of the thunders reply.
“…….7,8.9.10….” It sounded like a giants snore and rolled away quickly. “There’s still time”, he said to himself moving now towards the west wing of the house. He knew Harry Kim had a room there; he’d been invited to play as part of the evening entertainment, an honour his musical friend he’d jump at.
Dodging the flora and fauna of the landscaped gardens and hedges, Paris dwelt on the reasons they were here at Seafield, on the isle of Tempany off the cost of a small continent he couldn’t remember, on a planet with a name that translated as ‘HOME’ in federation standard.
After a long battle with ‘Homes’ distant neighbours they had landed a battered Voyager on the island at the presidents request to make repairs, one of them being her transporter system which Belanna was ‘still working on’. Which was one of the reasons he was not only walking back to Voyager in the rain but the reason he’d left the party early, i.e. he was bored without her and had felt like a fifth wheel.
The path in front of Paris was illuminated briefly by another flash and he saw the outline of the gardens gazebo to his left. The decision too detour to it and duck out of the weather was too strong and the relief from the weighty rain and buffeting wind as he climbed the wooded steps only reinforced his moment of weakness.
The gazebo was a good twenty feet wide and served in the summer as a band stand, now its removable side panels were all locked in place and the chairs inside stacked neatly against the back wall. Not that he could see the wall; the light from the house didn’t penetrate further than two feet in.
Standing in the doorway dripping on to the polished wooden floor he looked across at the house, Seafield. She was a four story structure with two wings. Her exterior was plain, no elaborate stone work or fancy roof carving, yet inside her walls were adorned with tapestry’s and paintings. The doors and ceilings featured carvings and mouldings of every shape and size. The houses name came from the quirkiness of her location. The land behind the house slopped away to sea level and when the tide was high the fields behind disappeared beneath it. The fields became part of the sea. The animals had long since learnt when to move up the field for grazing but occasionally it still caught a visitor unawares. Watching from the house through as the tide turned and the sea crept over the fields, edging nearer to the back door was mesmerising. Watching the storm Paris was wondering how close the sea was to the house now when he heard the shuffle of feet behind him spinning around he called out into the gazebos darkness.
“Is someone there…” A shadow moved into the dim light and Paris made out the all too familiar features. “Captain?”
“Mr Paris, I though you had returned to Voyager?” Janeway said as she approached her con officer.
“I didn’t make it before the storm hit, turned back; guess I didn’t run fast enough.” Paris took a note of Janeways dry clothes and raised a quizzical eyebrow. Just then a bolt of lightning, illuminated the gazebos interior, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the flash’s intensity. “Wow! That was…”
The weight of Janeways hand on his shoulder stalled him mid sentence and looking down he saw that she was hiding her own face from the light but she was also shaking.
“Hey you’re not scared of thunder and lightning are you?” He joked.
Janeway responded by turning her face away and hugging her arms tightly. Thunder rolled above them, shaking the frame of the gazebo and its occupants.
“I’ve ‘disliked’ thunderstorms since I was caught out in one as a young girl.” Janeway spoke once the thunder had rumbled away again. “I’d decided to walk home one evening across the fields and the weather caught me unawares.” As much as she tried she couldn’t stop her voice quivering. “I was only wearing my tennis clothes and I became drenched in minuets, I couldn’t see…I became lost. If my father hadn’t come looking for me…”
Paris heart did a summersault, it was obvious from his captain’s demeanour that she had more than a ‘dislike’ of thunderstorms and he mentally bit his tongue. “I’m sorry.” He said taking a step closer. “I didn’t know.”
“There’s no reason why you should have.”
Another bolt of lightning cracked directly over their heads causing Janeway to flinch and shiver but Paris reacted with his own lightning speed and turning her around he pulled her to him, shielding her face from the flash with his body whilst wrapping his arms around her protectively.
“I won’t tell.” He whispered in the brief seconds before the thunder clap deafened them both.
“We can’t stay here.” Paris yelled over the noise. “Were going to have to make a run for it.” He indicated the house and Janeway nodded.
Clasping her hand tightly in his and taking care not to touch the gazebo’s metal frame he guided her down the steps and out into the now dark garden. The wind buffeted them and the rain stung their faces making it difficult to steer a true course between the shrubs and pathways. The storm was now in full force; lightning splitting the sky in two over and over again, the whole time Janeway clung to Paris trusting him to lead her onwards.
Throwing themselves into the alcove of a doorway Paris groped for the door handle twisted it and pushed, tumbling into the warm dry hallway they both moved with relief up the stairs. It wasn’t until they were almost at Janeways room that the lights went out.
“Perfect.” Paris commented, hoping there was a back up generator that would kick in, unfortunately if there was it didn’t.
Janeway was still holding his hand and tugging so he would follow she moved down the corridor to what she trusted was her room door. Not being use to such things she hadn’t locked it behind her so when the wood yielded to her touch, she pulled Paris inside. Lightning struck as they entered, illumining the furniture and confirming it was her room.
There was now movement and flashes of light in the corridor, obviously with the power out the party had come to an end and the other guests were returning to there rooms, the flashing lights were from hand held torches and Paris wondered where he could get one while closing and locking the door.
The room was elegantly furnished with a four poster bed but it also had two large floor to ceiling windows that framed the stormy sky beautifully. Transfixed by the raging melee beyond the glass Janeway stood at the foot of the bed staring out. The rain water dripping from her clothes, as she flinch with each thunder clap. Crossing quickly to the windows Paris yanked the heavy drapes over the tempest eyes. With the sight if not the sound of the storm vanquished Janeway’s heartbeat calmed a little only to be startled back into action by a loud knock at the door.
“Kathryn.”
It was the voice of the Presidents Aid; he had been on her tale since she had arrived at the House the day before, irritating her with his constant chatter and simpering ways. She had gone out into the garden and subsequently caught in the storm to get away from him; his presence was now anything but welcome. She could have ignored him, but he was the kind who would probably turn the house upside down searching for her, or worse contact Chakotay. Raising a hand in the dim light she indicated for Paris to remain where he was and keep silent, while she moved to the door.
“Adran.” She called, not opening the door. “What has happened?”
“There’s been a power cut,”
That much was obvious, thought Janeway.
“There trying to fix the generator.”
Ah so there is one, Paris mused.
“I came to see if you needed any help.”
“No I’m fine I was going to turn in anyway.”
“Oh, well if you do I’m in room 4 down the hall.”
Janeway was well aware of which room he was in; he had made a point about insisting she knew upon her arrival.
“There is a torch in the night table, just in case.”
His voice was once again starting to irritate her.
“Thank you, I’m very tired so I’ll say goodnight.”
“Yes of course, Goodnight Kathryn.”
“Goodnight Adran.”
Janeway listened at the door waiting for his footsteps to walk away, he didn’t immediately do so and she imagined the furtive man with his ear to the wood straining to hear her breathing. She was almost sure she could hear his, and glanced down at the turned key firmly in the lock to reassure herself that he couldn’t spy through the hole. When at last he moved away Janeway let out a long sigh.
“You should get out of those wet clothes; I can here you shivering from here.” Janeway called across the room to where Paris stood by the window.
“I think we had both better dry off.”
Janeway giggled, then laughed, “What a night.”
He loved to hear her laugh and knowing how frightened she had been earlier it was even lovelier.
Retrieving the torch from the night table where Adran had said there would be one, Janeway made her way to the bathroom; inside she found a spare bathrobe and towel then tossed them out to Paris.
“Sorry but I don’t think my clothes would fit you.”
“Its ok I’m not staying, once things have settled I’ll go and find Harry’s room.”
“I don’t think so.” Janeway said ducking back into the bathroom.
“Why?” Paris asked.
“Because Harry left the party shortly after you and he wasn’t alone.”
A smile crossed Paris face, “Who?”
“I didn’t see.” Janeway emerged from the bathroom wearing a white silky nightgown beneath her open bathrobe. “So it looks like you will be spending the night here with me.”
Wicked thoughts flashed through Paris mind just as a huge lighting bolt shattered the night sky and the roar of subsequent thunder shook the house foundations. They might have been cold and wet but at that moment Janeway preferred to be in the safety of Paris arms than anywhere else.
He could feel the pulse in her wrist tapping wildly against the back of his neck and the heat of her frighten breath in his ear. “It’s ok.” Paris said softly. “Harry’s clothes wouldn’t fit me either.”
She laughed again, relaxing her hold so she could turn her head; they were so close she could feel the soft air from his nose on her face. “How come you always say just the right thing at the right time?”
“My grandfather was half Irish.”
“I guess that explains everything.”
There lips met as more thunder and lighting assaulted the house fortifications, but this time Janeway was oblivious to its terrors, she comprehended nothing beyond the soft flesh mutilating hers.
Silence filled Paris ears as the storm paused between onslaughts. “I should get out of these wet things if I’m staying.”
“Yes.” Was all Janeway managed to say.
Releasing herself from his embrace she sat at the end of the bed and watched as Paris stripped off his sodden garments. His skin beneath was still damp and the beads of moisture glistened in the lighting flash’s, she also saw in the light that he was more than ready for her and she feared him slightly. Paris was after all a womanising Rebel; she had never been with a man of his sought, would he hurt her, would he…..His mouth descended upon hers, ravaging her lips. Forcing his tongue into her he sucked the flesh from her face drawing whimpers from her throat and tremors from her body. Her robe vanished in seconds leaving only the thin cloth of her gown to protect her from the spear that he manoeuvred closer.
Paris felt her shiver as he ran his hands down her body to her knees then up between her thighs. He was still standing on the floor and in perfect position to impale her, but something held him back. Placing his hands on the bed he freed her lips from his and spoke.
“If this isn’t what you want I’ll stop, no questions no recriminations.”
“Tom!” Kathryn’s stomach flipped. “If I seem fearful it’s because I don’t know what you expect from me. I have only ever had two lovers, and……This isn’t something I do.”
She was the captain of a Starship, she’d fought the Cardassions, kazon and Borg, but when it came to sex she was no more than a nervous cadet.
“Perhaps we….I should take things a little slower.”
“I think I would like that.” Removing her night gown, Janeway eased herself back up the bed and waited for Paris to join her.
Crawling on his knees he followed her and laying his cool body over her hot one elicited a gasp. Holding her close, he let his fingers trace the curve of her jaw then lowering his head to her neck grazed it with his lips. Slowly he travelled down to the v between her breasts then back up to her check, before brushing them to hers. Lightly at first, no more than a whisper touch, then with his hand tangled in her hair he claimed her mouth fully with his own.
Kathryn let the sensations his kiss wash over her, outside the storm wrought hell and damnation on everything in its path but she was in heaven. As Paris deepened the kiss, she felt his hands brushing the back of her neck, stroking her cheek, caressing her shoulder, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched her. Her skin smouldered as they floated from her hips to the voluptuous rounds of her breasts and the responsive buds. He’d said he would go slowly but the fire in his groin was excruciating, and he rubbed his shaft against her leg in anticipation.
Kathryn felt his inpatients but she wasn’t yet ready and raised her knee to form a barrier. Not to be undone Paris slid his hand from her breast down to the apex of her legs and pushed two fingers into her slippery tunnel. Squealing Kathryn gripped his wrist but he was too strong, she could do nothing but squirm as he sort out her sensitive spot with his fingers and tantalized the pulsating bud of her womanhood. Small moans of pleasure erupted with her breath, and a light sheen of perspiration formed on her body.
“Stop!” Kathryn said wrenching her lips free.
Paris immediately removed his hand. “I’m sorry…..”
Placing her hand over his mouth she shook her head, “No, I don’t mean…What I’m trying to say is I’m ready, I want you.” She felt Paris smile behind her hand and moved it away. “Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not, I promise.” Paris placed a kiss on her forehead. “I have wanted you for so long just hearing you say those words makes my heart smile.”
Thunder rolled beyond the windows and lighting pushed at the curtains but the only thing that made Kathryn’s heart jump was the realisation that Tom actually loved her, he had been secretly holding a torch for her since…when….New Zealand?
“Then I guess you had better make love to me.” Lowering her leg Kathryn pulled Toms head down to hers and kissed him passionately.
Raising himself on top of her, he took most of his weight on one muscled arm, then with the other hand he gently cradled her arching buttocks and slowly entered her.
At her first hesitant shudder, Paris stopped. He did not withdraw from her, but he entered no further. Bending his head he murmured comforting words into her ear until he felt her relax, then once more he pressed her virginal flesh. She clung to him and he kissed her tenderly, as the kiss became more demanding, so did his desire and he began thrusting harder into her. Her velvet walls clutched at his shaft sending rivers of pleasure screaming though his body.
It wasn’t long before the fires of passion consumed Kathryn, and as the thunder rolling across the sky reached its crescendo her world exploded in a dizzying turbulence of stars. Trembling from the elation she sank back against the bed covers and opened her eyes, in the darkness she could make out Tom face gazing down at her and she raised a hand to stroke his cheek. It was then that she realised in the midst of her joy he had experienced his own and was now staring at her with admiration and love in his eyes.
“The storms easing.” He said softly.
“I hadn’t noticed.” She replied honestly.
“You don’t have to love me.” Paris said closing his eyes. “It’s enough for me that you know I love you.”
“Foolish man.” Kathryn playfully slapped his cheek, making him open his eyes. “Do you think I would have let you in my bed if I did not love you?”
Paris laughed then leaning close kissed her seductively. He was still inside her and as they kissed he felt her muscles tighten around him stimulating his manhood. Slowly he began to move in and out of her now slippery virgina, coaxing her hips apart and her legs wider he push deeper.
“Tom!” Kathryn gasped as he impaled her. “I think our journey home just got a little more interesting.”
