JL | FADM Red, Adm Hark (ret.) | "Water of Life"

Posted on 241708.23 @ 1:12am by Admiral Alexander Hark & Fleet Admiral Blyx Red

Mission: Hush [BQ Plot]

Alcohol. It rarely made things better, but it certainly did a number on numbing them. Scotch was the finest elixir she had ever found, not that she'd searched very hard or for very long for an alternative. The only bottle she owned had sat barely touched for the better part of two years. Such a waste. The last time she'd tasted its brand of feel good had been with the same man she'd fall to the bottom of that bottle with now. The circumstances were different. Or were they? Each time they'd partook it had been to deal with a life, celebrating it. Sort of. Xander had needed a drink when he'd found out he was a father. Not just any father. Commodore Rochelle Ivanova's father. Long story, one already told. It didn't need rehashing. Now they'd celebrate second chances, the one she'd been given after coming so close to dying just a few scant weeks ago. So close she had tasted death's bitter cold steel.

Now all she tasted was the warmth of that Scotch as it lingered across her tongue and she poured another round. What the hell was she doing? Had she lost her God damned mind? Maybe. Just maybe. Either way she chuckled and tossed her head to one side, freeing her face from hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. "Let me know when you're ready to chase this with food." Blyx chuckled, offering Xander his glass. Was is their third round? Fourth? She hadn't thought to keep count. All that mattered was the warmth that hung over her, bringing the softest of flushes across her features as she deposited herself back on that couch beside him. "If." Her eyebrows rose as she took another burning sip, "If you want to chase it with food."

It burnt, the scotch burnt as it slid along his tongue and down his throat and it bought a smile of pleasure to the face of the greying former Admiral... or was it the company? or a combination of both? Xander didn't know anymore and he really didn't care, it'd been too long since he'd shared a drink with Blyx and after spending the night curled up together he'd found himself longing for something which he'd denied himself for over 30 years, "Food might be a good idea, it means we can drink more of this," he replied as he tipped his glass in her direction and took another sip, "Unless you have something other than food in mind?"

"I always have things other than food in mind." Blyx beamed with a brilliant chuckle and drowned it with another welcome slow burn, "Did you know... You damned Scots started this all with your uisge beatha?" Her mouth wrapped around the old Gael words with amazing ease. Another toss of her head and this time she set her nearly empty glass down long enough to hunt for a hair tie, poking her fingers into the crease between the cushions they set on. "Water of life. Only you sorry lot would call it the water of life." She snorted, giving up the hunt to climb over him unapologetically on her way to the replicator. Hair ties grew legs. She was sure of it.

He chuckled as she clambered over him, "They're not wrong," he replied as the smile brightened, "There are stories of people in the past being saved from the jaws of death by a good solid scotch," he regarded her as she moved towards the replicator, the way she moved, the way she talked, it was as intoxicating as the amber liquid they were sharing and it was an intoxication that was alien to him after so long.

"I'd believe it." She replied, plucking up the tie from the replicator as soon as it was spat out. The return trip was made slower by her need to concentrate both on tying up her hair and walking. Either or would have been difficult given her current state of inebriation, but together it became a sort of circus where she was both acts and the ring leader. It worked. Barely. Her hair was hardly the polished picture of Admiralty it was when she was on duty, but it was out of her way enough that she could function. "It's to the point they actually think that angels come on down and steal a few glasses." More ribbing. More teasing. "As if anything that innocent would dare to imbibe." Her tongue tutted as she began the climb back to her portion of the couch, reaching to take up her glass and finish it as she navigated.

"It's a good job that neither of us can be considered innocent." Xander replied with a laugh that shook the couch, he leant forward and retrieved the bottle so he could refill their glasses again, two fingers worth in each glass was the usual measurement but given his current state this ended up being closer to double, "IF we're going to get food, we should probably do so soon."

"No angels share for me?" Blyx pouted, "I'm heart broken, Xander. Truly." Taking back her glass she once again saturated her senses with the mind numbing agent of life. It had become water to them. No longer a simple 'sometimes treat', it was being crammed as if it actually would give and bring life. "Mmm." She hummed from around another mouthful, swallowing it before she spoke again, "IF we're going to get food, you're completely right." She grinned brightly, studying him from over the rim of her glass. The longer hair and stubble was a fantastic look that promised he was so much more than a blow hard. It did little to disguise his distinguished features or the way he held himself. Even close to drunk he was methodical and practiced. Those hands steady. So steady. Christ she was warm. Again her glass was set down, this time in favor of toying with the loose draping of her bat-winged top. It was warm, there was that word again, knit with chilly weather in mind even if the cut did next to nothing to protect someone from the elements if they were to raise or move their arms. Each time she moved she could feel the slight chill of the room rush in to graze her ribs. It was a feeble excuse for much of anything aside from comfort and not meant to see the light of an open corridor. Perfect attire for enjoying a night at home. It was everything and nothing, kind of like that slow and sultry way the Scotch operated in her veins and whisked away that stubborn professional aura that clung to her like a bad habit. "Do we?" She asked, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, "Want... Food?"

"I don't know what I want," he replied softly as he took another sip of his scotch and allowed it to warm him thoroughly, he shifted his weight and moved closer towards Blyx, he reached out and ran his fingers down the side of her face gently, "I am hungry but I'm not sure what I'm hungry for."

For a minute she was back to being a naive and silly twenty something year old who had all the confidence in the world and a head full of stardust and big dreams. The booze had lent her liquid courage, and it was dangerous. His touch made it even more so. This wasn't allowed, Xander had always been on the list of 'no's even since her sister had lay claim to him. Two years ago he'd made his way back onto that list, a star stamped next his name for importance, when he reigned over Starfleet and she made him a father by unveiling the secret of Rochelle's true paternity. Now he was forbidden for the sake of Alek and trying her hand at him once more. The Scotch whispered sweet nothings to her that followed his fingers south along her jaw, "Depends on how hungry you are." She replied, quickly downing the rest of her glass in one gulp that stole her breath away as it scorched down her throat.

His scotch followed suit and was soon burning it's way down his throat, he placed the glass down on the table and followed his hand towards her, bringing himself closer to her was beginning to give birth to things inside him that had laid dormant for such a long time, his hand moved to brush a strand of hair out of her face as he finally decided what he truly wanted, cupping her face softly he moved closer towards her and pulled her closer.

He grabbed for her and she was instantly in motion, following his guidance with her own insistence. A leg was quickly thrown over both of his, depositing herself firmly in his lap as hands flew for the button of his pants. Blyx's mouth wasn't to be ignored, guided by Xander's hands it found his in a kiss that could never be described as chaste. It was deep, rich, incited by desire and alcohol, and all things wonderful and horrible at the same time.

Electricity flew from the moment their lips touched and Xander felt it stalking through him, fueled by the scotch they had been drinking he felt himself bring her closer in an effort to feel her against him, the taste of her, the scent of her, everything about this moment drove him wild in a way that he hadn't allowed himself to feel in over 30 years.

Clothes could be damned. Fumbling with zippers had never been her thing, but reaching between them to draw his down had been interesting enough. She'd have gotten up, broken their lust filled heavy kisses, and made life easier on herself except for the fact that she wanted to feel more, not less, of Alexander Hark. Forgetting the zipper, leaving it wasted against the now gaping chasm of his fly, Blyx broke their lips only long enough to whisk away the gauzy fabric of her own shirt. While he was still clothed, it was a step in the right direction. "Very hungry." She managed to pant, reaching with demanding fingers to gather up the hem of his shirt and begin to drag it north and over his torso. Inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, his heated skin was exposed and quickly admired by her own.

Allowing his shirt to be discarded, Xander raised his arms so it could be pulled over his head and found himself searching for her the moment it had been removed. His hips raised them both off the couch and one of his hands worked his pants out from between them. In the heat of the moment they were a barrier that he was glad to be rid of as they fell around his ankles and his hands found themselves testing the curves of her body, his lips searching from her collarbone up around the soft flesh of her neck and back to her lips.

The how and the why no longer mattered. Need and want married into complete and utter satisfaction about the same time her back hit the top of her coffee table and the two of them became a tangle of limbs and sheer euphoria. It was lips and teeth and nails and a thousand other little points of reference she couldn't quite describe in her Scotch and lust induced haze. They had celebrated life, catapulted their friendship well beyond the realm of sanity... And it wasn't something Blyx could or would be apologetic for as she clung, shaking and panting to the Scot when all was said and done and the only reprieve either could find was the coolness of the glass beneath them.

There couldn't be guilt, they were adults and made adult decisions and took adult actions. Looking over at him, catching the expression on his face as he looked at her in their post-romp bliss, she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled from her giddy self. Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the euphoric high. She laughed and rolled to face him, nearly falling off the table as she did. "Jesus. What the hell have we done Xander?" Blyx grinned wildly as she reached to ruffle his hair away from his eyes. "Admirals don't behave like this."

Nothing could have removed the smile from Xander's satisfied face as he lay on the cool glass of the coffee table and turned his head to look at her, regarding every line of her face as if it were the first time he had seen her. Memorizing every detail, especially the grin that she held, he chuckled along with her at the events that had just occurred between them. He reached to take the hand that played with his hair and bought it down to his lips, a soft kiss laid against the back of it just as he'd done at her bedside in sickbay, "You're the only Admiral here, Blyx," he replied with a wink, "I'm retired, remember?"

"Is that what I have to do before they let me retire? Become Commander in Chief and make family out of the Klingons?" She half-snickered in her half-silly seriousness. To retire and be left alone was a dream, but then who would watch after Rochelle? Capable and steadfast or not, Rochelle was still the wild eyed and haunted little girl struggling with the death of her mother she'd gone to fetch some twenty years before. She couldn't retire or leave that last bit of Susan to be fed to the wolves whether she was, in all reality, powerless to do much else but become a lighthouse and beacon of home. "We're so drunk." She groaned, fighting the remnants of her giggles.

"I don't think that's going to work again," Xander replied with a laugh as he thought back to the circumstances surrounding his removal from office as Commander In Chief, it was a saga that had ultimately led him to spend more time with the Klingons than amongst Humans and had led him to this very spot, the euphoria stuck to him and continuously fueled the smile on his face, "We're definitely drunk."

"So sooooo very drunk." Blyx agreed and flopped onto her back with a small thud. "I'd like to retire you know." Her words didn't sound slurred, but her head swam with memories and feelings and oh... Sweet God... memories. Swallowing, she chewed her lower lip and closed her eyes, savoring the moment as her heart rate began to stabilize back into the realm of normal. She was still buzzing. "I envy you that," A single eye popped open, studying him sidelong, "your freedom."

"It's been liberating, but terrifying in the same breath," Xander replied as he lifted himself back to the couch and leant back into the fabric, he was excessively warm, a combination of the scotch and the activity they'd just been through bringing a bright red glow to his face, "One day, Starfleet will undo what I did and let you go back to Africa."

Beyond the ability of movement, at least for the moment, Blyx allowed her eyes to close as they spoke, "Not any time soon. Not until there's a proper replacement and there isn't one." She replied, "not being conceited, but there's no one that can do what I do. You said it yourself."

"One of a kind, Blyx, one of a kind." Xander replied, closing his eyes and relaxing, stretched out on the couch he looked the picture of bliss.

---

Fleet Admiral Blyx O. Red
Commanding Officer
Beta Quadrant
Starfleet

&

Former Admiral Alexander 'Xander' Hark
Privateer