Communications?

(In which KJ gets her knickers in a twist)

By jeny_nour

She sounded so damn good over my comm badge. Her voice modulated and

sexy. Kind of throaty, the way she drew out some of her words, or hit

on a syllable or two. Her low voice repeating in my head after I

returned to my duty rosters that first time.

Not the words, the sound. Like those stressed syllables were wet kisses

or sharp love-bites working their way down from my ear headed directly

to that spot on my groin. The spot where I imagined her thumb would press,

as her mouth did more than talk to me.

I had to get Seven out of my mind.

But instead, the sound of her voice kept making its trip down to my

thighs. Causing my knees to wobble and the small of my back to sweat

each time her voice echoed through my head. God, I wanted her.

Then she called again. I snapped my hand to my chest and listened.

"Seven here," she said. The last word drawn out, not wanting to give

up her tongue. But then if I had been that word neither would I.

Three syllables from her, and I was captive.

"Captain?" The question hung on the air — it rose up, from three

syllables down to two. My mind raced and wondered at the one word she

might utter to finish me off.

"Ma'am?"

I shivered, the cup of coffee nearly slipping from my hand.

Trembling, I tried to catch my breath. "Captain?" she asked again.

Impatience.

I cleared my throat.

She paused, then reminded me, "You are there." It came out like a

demand. Something I loved about her.

"Will you reply?" she asked.

She was headed up the scale again, four syllables, like soft fingers

taking a stroll over my scalp. One fingertip's light touch at a time.

`Breathe, Kathryn.' I reminded myself then ignored my own advice.

"I am in Astrometrics," she stated. The unstated was our last

conversation. Face to face, in my ready room. Now I didn't know

whether to answer, beg for mercy, or have this pressure on my chest

seen by the doctor.

"Captain, you know, we must talk," Using the word `talk' as a thinly

veiled invitation to the other things I could do once I was there.

"Captain, this is important." I knew it was too, to me. But I

couldn't let her know that, "I do need your assistance, now."

Seven-do-you-need me? I longed to ask. But I bit my tongue, then let

go a sigh, as if she had done the biting.

"Captain, Chakotay requests a second date—" she started, ruining it

all again.

"Janeway out." I repeated for the second time.