JL | FADM Red, Capt Dunross | "The Briefest of Seconds"

Posted on 241708.22 @ 5:08pm by Captain Aleksandr Dunross & Fleet Admiral Blyx Red

Mission: Hush [BQ Plot]

There was pain. There was always pain, or at least there had been for the last week or so. It was steadily getting better, continuously healed by Starfleet medicine, but her brain seemed dogged to remember the pain. At least she was alive. She'd take pain in exchange for being alive and relatively well, even if it meant being cooped up in her quarters and under Alek's constant vigil. Alek. She truly doubted if he'd left her side for longer than it took to grab a drink, a light bite, and use the restroom. He was there, studious and careful. If they came again, they'd likely meet a very bitter end and that knowledge alone left her feeling safe and warm in spite of the memories and pain.

Blyx's hands smoothed out over the carefully tucked top of her satin comforter. It was cool and smooth and delicious against the skin of her palms. A constant reminder of the difference between it and he warm button down flannel PJ's Alek had swaddled her in before he'd let her come and rest out on the couch. It was a cocoon. A chrysalis of healing a la Aleksandr Dunross, and who was she to tell him to do things any different? Waking from yet another lazy nap, Blyx's hands left the soft raw satin for the sake of a nice long stretch, her fingers winding up tangled in the expanse of raven waves fanned out over her pillow behind and around her head. "Morning." She practically cooed, still half asleep and contemplating getting up to fetch herself a coffee. Orders to rest or not, work still needed to be done.

Aleksandr looked at her and smiled. Even with bed-head, she was beautiful. He had a notion to take her now, satiate the primal need she always invoke in him, but wondered if that cause more damage than good. He took a sip of the coffee he was drinking and sat down the padd and took hold of her feet, rubbing them in his practiced way. Every moment of her recovery sealed the fate of the perpetrators of this crime against his honor. They will pay until his rage gorged on their retribution he would extract from their souls. However, for now, he would maintain his vigilance. Aleksandr submitted a smile to her and gently squeezed her feet.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

"Cute." She chuckled, lightly. Coffee would have to wait for sake of kryptonite by way of a foot rub. Whoever had taught him how to do such things deserved their weight rewarded to them in gold pressed latinum. It was heaven, and she couldn't help but hum her appreciation if his ministrations. Divine enough to quell her desire to re-conquer her office and get back to work. Instead of fighting, she settled back into the comfort of her pillows and the cocoon of blankets he'd insisted upon. Everything was Alek, she was surrounded, engulfed, and at that moment she wouldn't have wanted it any other way. "What are you reading?" She asked, gazing at him through a thick veil of ebony lashes. Age had done a lot of things, but it hadn't taken away his good looks or the furrow of his brow as he read something of particular interest. And it sure hadn't taken away the way she desired him.

Hands still on her feet, he opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He took a moment of contemplation then looked at her and answered in tone he reserved for work.

“I am researching how many ways to kill someone without actually killing them.”

It was the truth. He will not keep anything from her and she was the only one whom knew what and who he really was. He decided that if she could not handle what and who he was, then the cause was lost before it had a chance of success. Blyx was a Fleet Admiral and no flag ranked officer was a stranger to the realities that life presents in this universe. His touch was warm and gentle, but his voice was cold and sharp as steel.

“I will kill them. Revive them. And kill them again, and again, and again,” he said as his accent grew thicker with pent up rage, “If this was the age of old, I would then place their heads on a pike as a threat and a warning.”

A normal person would have curled up in a ball or called security to come and retrieve the madman from their quarters, Blyx merely chuckled and pushed herself up and away from her pillow in order to wrap her arms around the Russian's shoulders. Alek didn't frighten her, nor did his work. It came as an expectation, and she knew not to ask questions that she didn't want to hear the answer to. A fine line, a perfect balance. Libra held the scales in their favor that way. "You will stop worrying about this for a little while, Sasha... I'm alive. I'm here." She countered, grabbing one of of his hands and sliding it under the warm fabric of her pajama top until it rested over her chest and the steady beat of her heart, "See? Celebrate life for a bit before you go off ending it." Of course her attacker would die, and she knew they'd suffer greatly before they were finally allowed to meet their maker. There would be no other way. She wouldn't want it any other way. Anyone foolish enough to try and extinguish her life deserved to pay the price that came with such an attempt, and that was just the way of things.

The dark cloud of his rage faded and cleared to present the love in his eyes. He would not lose her now that he had worked so hard to get her back. “Da,” he said, nodded to her, leaning close to give her a kiss, a long satisfying kiss that completely doused the fire of his anger, “Da,” he said again, nodding. Now was the time to celebrate life. He rubbed a hand over the scars and started to kiss them, removing her clothes in the process.


"Good." She breathed, accepting and returning his kiss, her fingers releasing his hand in exchange for purchase within the thickness of his hair. She was wordless as his hands left the beat of her heart and found the knot of scar tissue mid-rib, breathless as he kissed it and unbuttoned her shirt to reach its twin at the center of her ribs. Blyx's eyes closed, her mouth coming agape, and all she knew was him yet again. His acts were possessive, she knew it. He was reclaiming territory after having it violated and nearly stolen from him, and who could blame him? A man like Aleksandr Dunross was a man of power and privilege. He chose what happened in life, no one else, and here the choice had been taken from him and had left his prize broken and marred. She encouraged him. Shrugging out of her shirt to give him access to his points of contrition. "I'm glad you agree."

Taking hold of her submission, Aleksandr satiated his carnal need for her, having his way with the woman he loved. When they were finished, both of them spent, he took stock of their surroundings. The blankets he'd carefully gathered were cast askew on the other side of the room. Pillows lay piled at their feet, and their clothes were no where near their previous owners. Chuckling, he looked at Blyx. It had been a long time since he'd felt that vigorous. Ater the deaths of the Grey twins, Aleksandr had turned away from companionship and had focused the entirety of himself and his will to his work. Smoothing a hand along the line of her leg, and following it to her hip where he ultimately stopped to cup her there, he smiled and nodded to himself. Yes, they would take advantage of what life had to give them. Leaning back, Aleksandr brought her into his embrace, softly stroking her skin as he inhaled the scent of her hair.

“All life is precious, especially the lives of my family,”

Comfortable and calm, Blyx basked in the merry afterglow of their love making. Her eyes closed, she rested against his chest in a state somewhere between sleep and euphoria, his fingers trailing electricity along her skin as he stroked along her thigh and hip. She'd never thought that she'd find this again, or accept it. Antonio had been the last and that had been well near a decade ago. Had it really been that long? How the hell had she survived the stress and vigors of Starfleet without release? Then Alek had returned, worshiping at her alter as if she were his chosen Goddess... And she loved it. Every minute of it. Every second. He tugged her closer, and she found herself tipping her head to kiss the cleft of his chin as he murmured above the crown of her head. "Yes," she said, somewhat surprised by his admission, her own fingers tracing the lines of muscle in his bicep, "it is... All of it." She added, nosing closer, "I won't lie to you, though, Alek... I value the lives of our family more than any." Our. It had been a slip of the tongue, and had she noticed or caught it she'd likely have have frozen solid in her tracks.

“Da,” Aleksandr said, looking past her off into the distance, as if seeing past all the light years past, present, and future. “I have…talked…to our son.”

He did not know what she knew... If she knew that he talked to Colt before seeking her out. And if she did know, Aleksandr also hoped that Blyx would understand why. A man, a father and a son, must sort things out between them without the involvement of their women. The relationship with his son was just as important to him as his relationship with Blyx. A sharp pain in his heart was felt for Aine. A twitch at the corners of his mouth denoted the sadness he still felt about her. He would have to reach out to her again and perhaps with the help of Blyx and Colt, he may yet succeed. If the relationship between father and son was important, the one between a girl and her father was even more precious. And the fact that Aine regarded another man as her true father left a scarring wound on his heart.

"I figured," She hummed in response, "I saw his name change on the Vindicator roster from Red to Dunross and I knew something had happened, especially with you just showing up on station." Blyx couldn't help but chuckle, "how did he receive you?" From her vantage point, she couldn't see Aleksandr's face. She couldn't see the pain or the disappointment or the grief that came with his thoughts of Aine. Aine. Their beautiful daughter, a woman of spirit and class with a brain that left people dizzied by her quick wit and intellect. Aine had been the first to strike out into the world of Starfleet and had steadily made a name for herself. Now a Captain, she was hot on the heels of success and close to taking her first command. Antonio had babied her, raised her, and the impression had stuck solid. That had been Blyx's fault.

Aleksandr paused a moment, still stroking her, remembering his encounter with Colt. He was unsure if the boy would hear him out, much less accept him. Aleksandr was surprised by the boy’s lack of vitriol. He expected the boy to attack him and curse the day he was born. However, what he found a boy needing his father. Focusing back on Blyx, Aleksandr kissed the top of her head.

“He is a fine boy, Blyx,” Aleksandr said, “He has done you proud, and I was ashamed that I waited so long to get to know him.” Aleksandr let a deep sigh out. “I expected a phaser pointed at my face, but received a man ready to talk and deal with the realities of life.”

He looked down at her, tracing her jawline with his finger. He gave her a soft smile, a wink, and nod. “I tried to explain to him about his heritage and asked to adopt my name. It would have been important if our family was to take its place with the other… Dunross.”

The corners of his mouth twitched as he tried to keep the sour tone out of his lips as he thought of the man who has tried to withhold what his father owed him.

Blyx hummed her appreciation in return, both at the way his fingers continued to soothe themselves along her heated skin and the way he admonished their son, "He's grown up, Alek, become a man right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

She chuckled lightly, nosing snuggling closer against her lover. "He's always been curious about you. I used to hear him wishing on stars and birthday cake candles that you'd come back, even wrote a letter to Santa once about it." Her voice was soft, low, filled with memories and emotion, "It took a few years, but he got those wishes granted." Perhaps the same way that Alek's own would be granted and he'd be given he key to his own lineage, one that had been stolen from him and locked away by... What was it again? Foolish pride? Greed? Impropriety? Something. Truth by told Blyx couldn't have cared less about the Dunross clan, or their acolytes, beyond the point that they'd hurt Alek and were a hefty part of his heritage. Somewhere in that valiant Russian beat the blood of a Scottish highlander tucked away and preserved by the frost of a St Petersburg winter. She knew this. Worse... She knew he'd soon have to face part of it on the daily when Commodore MacCafferey eventually showed his face.

Meanwhile, Aleksandr thoughts focused on his daughter. Aine. If only she was more like her mother and her brother, Aleksandr thought, but in truth, he knew that his daughter was a clone of himself. Just as he held on to the long-burning ember of hate for his half-brother, there was no doubt that his daughter did not look upon him with the kind and loving eyes a daughter should. He exhaled slow and deep. His most fervent challenge lay before him.

“But Aine,” Aleksandr said slowly, “She will not see me.”

Blyx's head shook, "No. She's been holding fast to the memory of Antonio." She almost whispered. Antonio had been a mistake, one made out of a need for someone to be there for her children and in part by the fact the Italian refused to take no for an answer. She'd been married to him for nearly eleven long years, trying to convince herself that she loved him. It had come tumbling to an end shortly after she'd seen Alek and the trauma that had resulted. Aine blamed Alek wholeheartedly and there was nothing that could have changed that. "He was there the day she was born, held her when she took her first breath, raised her like a princess and it's stuck. She's stubborn and intelligent, Alek, and you know that's a deadly combination." Her lips pursed for a second before thinning into a demure smile, "She's very much her father's daughter."

"Da," Aleksandr said, "She will make this difficult, but I will not force the issue."

In truth, Aleksandr did not know what to do or how to go about convincing his daughter that he has seen the error of his ways. Part of him thought, perhaps he should let things be. He had Colt. He had Blyx. Could he give up Aine. The thought stabbed him in the heart and he winced from the imagined pain. Aleksandr did not like to think of giving up or being defeated even before the attempt. He looked down at the woman he loved so dearly and the mother of his children and resolved to make an attempt.

"Nevertheless, I shall try. it is the least I can do. What I must do."

"I think you owe her at least that much," She nodded, curling a piece of hair around her index finger, "Aine is a very smart girl, Alek. Eventually she'll come around when the anger fades a bit. You being around doesn't give her the option of ignoring you."

Rolling in his arms, she turned to face him, resting her lips on the cleft of his chin for the briefest of seconds, "Love and family... They take effort, Alek. Nothing is for granted and every step and second is a battle to keep things moving in the right direction. It's kind of like commanding a ship. You member how much fun that was, don't you?" Of course what she didn't mention were the times of extreme joy that came with having a family. Watching them grow and come into their own was a charm that Blyx hung proudly from the mobius strip she called life. Never ending, eternal, her love and admiration for her children and her niece knew no bounds. Somewhere in the center of all that stood Alek. Stroking his chest, she couldn't help but smile a wry little smile, "And like I said... She is her father's daughter. Ask yourself what it would take if the roles were reversed. How would you get through to yourself."

Aleksandr breathed deep and nodded. Blyx was right. He would make the effort, and he would do make this happen. He leaned down and gave her a deep long-lasting forceful kiss.

"As you say, my love."


End Log

Fleet Admiral Blyx Red
Commanding Officer
Beta Quadrant
Starfleet

&

Aleksandr Romyev Dunross
Director
Section 31