The King of Pouts
By: Turtlewoman
Rating: NC-17
Written: February, 1999

Kathryn, in the spirit of the day, received her crew in her ready room. She remained perched upon her throne, answering the least little request in the royal ‘we’. The crew found innumerable reasons to seek audiences with her royal ‘Captainess’, although they couldn't convince her to dress like Arachnia. Even Tuvok took to backing out of the ready room with a dignified bow of his head. The shift resembled the antic rehearsal of an incredibly ill talented amateur theater group. This was definately the birthday to remember.

Throughout it all, Chakotay maintained his post on the bridge. At first, the crew made an attempt to include him in the spiraling silliness. Without casting a pall on anyone else’s mood, he firmly told them, that it was ok, he was going to pass on this one. A few made an effort to dissuade him, which, smiling, he resisted. Soon he was left to stew in his own juices, and stew he did. He cursed himself for his own petulant, childish behavior. He was truly gratified to hear her peals of laughter, but just couldn’t get past his own disappointment. It would really be anticlimactic and pointless to give her his gift now.

As Alpha shift ended, the crew drifted off to continue the party at Sandrine’s. The Captain promised to follow in an hour or so. She told them she had to attend to a few little things she had neglected during the day and no, it wasn’t necessary to move the throne onto the holodeck.

Chakotay had just finished briefing the Beta shift when she called him. "Commander, I’d like to see you in my ready room before you go off duty, please."

"I’ll be right in Captain."

She was sitting, thankfully, behind her desk. She indicated he should sit in his usual chair.

"Coffee?" she asked as she poured herself a cup.

He sat at attention, "No thanks. What did you wish to see me about, Captain."

She leaned toward him, cupping her chin on her palm and trying to hold in a small smile. "I was hoping you would be able to tell me why my First Officer and closest friend has been pouting all day."

He slumped in his chair pursing his lips out a little more in spite of himself. "I don’t pout."

Losing her battle to withhold her grin, she got up and moved around the side of her desk and perched on the edge in front of him. "You don’t pout often. But when you do, you pout with such…… intensity," she said, leaning forward to trace his lower lip with her thumb, "that I could button this to your fly!"

After a moment’s shock, he burst out laughing. Grabbing her hand he looked at her beseechingly, "Oh, please try…please, please try!"

She snatched her hand out of his, blushing prettily. "Never mind, you! Now….are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?…….I’ll let you sit in my throne if you do."

That sobered him immediately.

"Ah, it’s the throne. You’re put out because Paris gave me this silly throne!"

"No…no…well, yes..a little. But I’m glad you got a gift you love so much. Just out of curiosity though, why do you like this monstrosity? You played in it all day."

"That’s why… because I ‘played’ in it all day….. I’m a captain, just a lowly captain, Chakotay. Don’t you find it a tad ridiculous to have a captain, for all intents and purposes, be the ultimate authority and power in a 50,000 light year radius? The responsibility is almost overwhelming…..but so is the power. It would be so easy to forget how small and insignificant I really am in the grand scheme of things. That throne will be a constant reminder not to take myself too seriously. And once in awhile....say….on my birthday… I can just make fun of the whole situation. Thank God for Paris. He won’t ever let me forget how to laugh at myself."

Chakotay murmured, "Respite….he gave you respite from your burdens. Paris, of all people."

"Respite? Paris?…..restful in any way? Not exactly! But he did give me perspective." She walked over to the throne and gave it a pat. "It’s a grand gift."

He stood, following her. "When you put it that way, I can see that it is…. I’m glad he gave it to you, Kathryn." He gave her a farewell nod, "I’ll go now. I know the crew is expecting you."

"Don’t go!" She leaned against the side of the throne. "Besides, you’re still pouting a little."

"Kathryn, it’s silly. Really. Let it go."

She came down to stand in front of him, then with a half smile, looked up at him through her lashes, "You pout better than I do, but I wheedle much better than you do. Please tell me what is really bothering you….or at least give me some hints……or if not that …at least give me my birthday present."

He gave a guilty little jump.

"Ah ha! That’s it. You’re embarrassed about your birthday present," she crowed.

Chakotay had regained a bit of his composure and lost a little of his temper. "First of all, what makes you so sure I even got you a birthday gift? Secondly, don’t ever take up psychiatry! You’ve got a hell of a bedside manner, you know that?"

"Firstly, you always give me a birthday present and secondly, you’ve never seen my bedside manner," she replied smugly.

"That’s the truth!" This woman was definitely driving him to more places than the Alpha quadrant.

She grinned up at him, put both palms on his chest and continued with her wheedling, teasing, double entrendres and even an occasional pout. He was trying to ignore her teasing, keep his dignity and stop drooling over her. She knew he failed on all counts. He knew, she knew. She could charm him every time.

"You are an incorrigible brat, you know that?"

"Yup. Gimme my present."

"Oh here!" He thrust the small package in her hands. "I hope you’re satisfied!"

Kathryn tore the wrappings off and held the silver, ovoid object in her hands. She turned it over and over examining it. She was quiet, staring at it for awhile. "An analog chronometer?"

"Its called a pocket watch."

"Oh." She stared at it a while longer.

"You’ve got a party waiting for you. You wanted your gift…you got it. I’m out of here!" Chakotay was embarrassed enough. He’d be damned if he’d stand here waiting for her to grope for a few polite words to thank him. He turned to leave.

She grabbed his arm. "Hey, where are you going? Give me the rest of my present!"

"You know you really are unbelievable! This is all there is! What were you expecting? The crown jewels to go with the damn throne?"

Her hand slid down his arm to intertwine her fingers with his. She gave him that quiet, gentle, for him only smile, the one he’d gladly jump out an airlock for. "My story, Chakotay. You always tell me a story when you give me a gift. There is a story, isn’t there?" she said with conviction.

She held his eyes with her own. He smiled back with equal gentleness. "Yes…. there’s a story. The watch is a replica of a 19^th century chronometer worn by Captain Cray of the British Navy. His ship was hit by a typhoon in the Pacific. Everyone back in England thought they were killed, but eight months later Captain Cray sailed his ship into London Harbor. There wasn’t much left of it, half a plank, a few sails… but he got his crew home."

She held the watch to her heart and whispered, "It’s amazing. You give me the same gift every year."

He gave her a puzzled look.

"You give me more of yourself." She quickly backed away from him, straightening to command pose. "I’m the queen today and I hereby declare that Kathryn may give herself a birthday present!" She pulled him to the throne, "Come on, let’s break in my watch. Sit down."

"Kathryn, I don’t need to sit on that throne. I’m not pouting anymore, honest."

She scowled at him, hands on hips, "I’m the queen. Now sit!…." wheedling again, "Come on Chakotay, play along. This won’t hurt…..honest."

Shaking his head, he sat down. "Happy now?"

"I will be. Computer, engage privacy lock." and with that she climbed into his lap, putting one arm around his neck and held the watch out with the other. "I’m a 44 year old woman. I can grant myself 44 seconds of my heart’s desire, don’t you think?"

Though startled, he had enough presence of mind to immediately agree with her. She gave a quick glance at the watch and said, "Go!" leaning forward to kiss him. He quickly enfolded her in his arms, returning her kiss gently. The kiss deepened and deepened again, lips parted, tongues exploring, hands roving, voices moaning. He nipped at her ear and down her neck. She leaned back in his arms, giving freer access to her throat.

"Kathryn, I think 44 seconds are up," he mumbled sucking on the hollow at the base of her throat.

"Mmmm," she said, leaning forward again to lick his dimples.

"Kathryn, I think a captain, even a lowly one, ought to be able to grant herself at least 44 minutes."

She pulled back, studying him. "You’re right…… Take your jacket and shirt off, I want to feel the shape of you."

"I might ask the same thing."

She gave him another long look and then slowly removed her jacket. "Help me with the rest……..Chakotay?….Honey, you need to remember to keep breathing."

He drew in a deep breath, laughing. "I hope this doesn’t break the mood…..but are you sure? I mean….why?…why now?"

She had moved to straddle him, "No, your questions don’t ‘break the mood’. Perspective. I need to remember that, in the end, I’m just a woman….and I’m so hungry for you I can barely stand it…..so, if you don’t mind playing on my throne, maybe we can explore this….now."

He moaned, pulling her to him, nuzzling her shoulder and stroking her bare back.

"I’ll take that for a yes."

"Mmmm." He kissed her again. One hand supported her and the other caressed her breast, inprinting the shape of her into his palm. Slowly Chakotay eased her off his lap and slid off the chair to kneel in front of her. He removed first one of her boots, then the other and eased her pants and panties down her body. Trembling, he held her close to him as she stepped out of them. He kissed her navel, alternately sucking and probing with his tongue and breathed in great gusts of her scent. He traced kisses down her belly until he could add the taste of her to his reeling senses. She laced her fingers through his hair, moaning as he explored her body. She could feel herself swelling and throbbing in response.

Hands on his shoulders, she indicated he should stand. As he did, she slid down his body, divesting him of his remaining clothes as she went. He sat back down in the chair, she kneeling in front of him. They sat, staring at each, until she moved forward to learn the taste of him. When he thought he couldn’t control himself another second, she eased away with a final lick and straddled him again. He let her set the pace, afraid he would hurt her if he moved too fast. She became more and more abandoned, plastering his lap with her juices.

"Now Chakotay! Join with me!"

She slid into him with a rumbling purr of pleasure, wiggling her bottom to settle into him as deeply as she could. He looked at her in amazement. Slowly he started to smile, his smile became a laugh, his laugh flowing into a series of quick, joyous kisses. Still laughing, he hugged her to him saying, "Computer, Rimsky-Korsakov, Scheherazade, fourth movement!"

She paused, giving him a puzzled look. Then the light dawned. "The fourth!..’Shipwrecked?… Oh, that’s bad!" She found herself laughing with him. "You have a truly warped sense of humor, you know that?" He agreed happily and tipped her back to nibble her breasts, raking his teeth across her nipples. Kathryn searched her memory for the rest of the title but she found she couldn’t even think with him stroking and nuzzling her like that. She dove back into his caresses. The music crashed around them and they were carried along with it and their passion.

Having reached their crescendo in tandem with the music, they slowly spiraled down to gentle cuddling, pillowed in the sounds of silken strings flowing around them. As she sat there cradled in his arms she remembered her promise to the crew. "We really should go. Of all the nights to promise to party. Will you come with me to Sandrine’s? I find myself unwilling to tear myself away from you just yet."

Chakotay smiled and gave her a gentle kiss, "I’ll come….and I’ll stay as close to you as you’ll let me..for as long as you’ll let me."

With great reluctance they both stood and drew apart. He turned toward his clothes, scattered on the floor. She watched him, lingering over every curve and dimple. Kathryn decided not to resist the irresistible, swatting him across the posterior he’d just presented as he bent to retrieve his clothes. . "That’s for the fourth movement!" she chortled. " ‘ Shipwreck on a Rock Sumounted by a Bronze Warrior’ my fanny!"

"Ow!" He straightened quickly and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her tight to him. "That too, anytime you want!" he leered.

Still laughing, she said, "And you call me incorrigible!?"

"Whatever do you mean? I just thought, since you like classical music so much, I should offer you something a little …exotic. Oh, I’ll grant you that it doesn’t have the bloodless elegance and sophistication of Mahler, but it does have a certain raw passion,…… a sensuality,…. an .. honest lustiness I thought you might… appreciate." He slid his hands down her back as he talked, kneading her cheeks and nibbling on her neck between sentences. "Care to share a comparison of the music?"

She gave an evil little chuckle and looked up at him coyly. "Don’t you remember? One of the nice things about being captain is that you can keep some things to yourself." She took his hands in hers and started pulling him back to the throne. "But I have been known to share a quick encore."

The End 

~*~*~

(Program Note: If you are like me, and can’t tell a crescendo from a cantata if it bit you on the foot…..
The fourth movement of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Schedherazade really does have this very long title….
To whit:  The Festival at Baghdad - The Sea- (..and, tadah!).. Shipwreck on a Rock Surmounted by a Bronze Warrior ((HONEST!)). It’s a great wild thing, with cymbals clashing, drums throbbing and then the richest, most luscious strings that just vibrate right through your……well you get the idea.)