I’m gonna play MGR:R after I finish Bioshock! Going to try to beat Bioshock tonight! : D
Does this seem sudden after the previous chapters? I have it in my mind that Quinn is good at denying it until he has time to think, so when things are happening (when they’re not in transit in hyperspace, for instance) he doesn’t notice it as much.
Interlude: Poison
Quinn sat alone in the cockpit and considered his life. The consoles around him hummed and peeped, but he ignored them for once. He found it difficult to do his thinking off-duty; he had little free time even when he wasn’t supposed to be flying the ship, what with additional goals he set for himself. And while he could have lain awake at night and thought about it, he knew from experience that if he didn’t get six or seven hours of sleep each day, he would be wrecked the next day and he couldn’t allow that. He’d taken to using stims to help him sleep; that was how far he’d fallen. So he’d made time now. She’d probably forgive him if he could simply lay this turmoil to rest and return to his efficient, competent self.
She. Her. She was the problem in the first place.
She was like poison running through his veins, burning him from the inside out, a dancing sprite who enticed him and then mocked him for everything he did… Every time she was near him, his attention was fixed on her like a magnet; every time she touched him in passing it was like her fingers imprinted on his skin; every time her golden eyes met his they consumed him… and when he saw her in battle, proud and daring, he could barely hide his desire for her…
Stop. Think about it logically. She was his superior officer. She had acted inappropriately towards him, as a Sith could do without legal repercussion, but that did not change the fact that he took orders from her. He was increasingly losing sight of that fact, and she encouraged it with glee even while she treated them all as her inferiors.
Did she even truly know how tightly he was wrapped around her finger? Did she know how he obsessed over her now? Maintaining his facade of detachment was the least of his problems now. They had multiplied, and continued to multiply, like gizka. He had trouble working now, trouble focusing, every few minutes thinking about her, every semi-intimate memory filtering through his consciousness in a constant parade. It was like he was a teenager again. He hadn’t had this issue with a woman before. Was she doing it somehow? Was that something the Force could do? Even she wouldn’t be so cruel, would she?
When the stakes were up, yes, he could somehow find his balance and do what needed to be done. Sometimes his work was engaging enough it filled his whole mind, as it should. But he knew that wasn’t good enough. So, how could he fix it?
The last thing he wanted to do was go back to Balmorra. That was paramount. To waste his life away there, just when he’d gotten used to the freedom and intensity of being deployed about the galaxy at large… it would kill him inside. He was worth more than that. He also wasn’t interested in going to Dromund Kaas. It would guarantee him swift promotions, but he’d never see the Republic in battle there. Hopefully. But leaving the Fury was a last resort. He could stay here… if she stopped messing with his head. If she didn’t at least stop pretending she was interested in him, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Trying to ignore her or dodge her clearly hadn’t worked. She just thought it was a game and came on all the fiercer.
What did he actually want? A simple question. He wanted to reciprocate, even though it was suicide, for his career if not literally… He wanted to hold her, kiss her passionately, pin her against the navicomputer and-
Stop it. That was just making it much worse. If he asked her nicely, would she end her flirtations, or increase them? It couldn’t hurt to try, could it?
If the worst came to the worst, he no longer had to wait to request a transfer. Moff Broysc couldn’t block Lord Akuliina’s direct approval. If she granted it. But he’d try asking first. He tapped out a text message on his terminal requesting an audience and sent it before he could second-guess himself.
She was in the cockpit within ten minutes. “You wished to see me, Captain?”
He stood from his seat and turned to face her. “Yes, my lady. It’s… well. To be frank, you’ve caused me some difficulty, and I’d like to confirm it was unintended.” If he pretended he didn’t know she was messing with him, she would be lenient, wouldn’t she? She blinked at him blankly and gestured for him to go on. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but I’ve felt at times that you expressed an interest in me beyond our professional relationship.”
She smiled and he frowned. Good to know his turmoil amused her. “I’ve left you tossing and turning in your bunk at night, have I?”
Not literally, thanks to the stims, but he tried to laugh it off. “In a manner of speaking. Which is why I bring it up. …I’ll admit, you have a knack for… surprising me. I’m typically swifter on my toes. I should have immediately said that any personal involvement between us could cloud judgement and compromise your campaigns.” Better late than never, right?
What had Vette said about him? That he smouldered at Akuliina? Had Vette seen the way Akuliina looked at him? Her eyes were definitely smouldering now as she stepped forward, backing him into the bulkhead. “I like taking risks,” she said in a low voice, smiling, and her hands were on his shoulders, her lips inches from his- Emperor, he almost lost his self-control right there-
She pulled him down surprisingly gently and kissed him. Stars and galaxies, her lips were soft. His heart was pounding in his ears and his hands clenched at his sides, his back pressed rigidly against the wall; he wanted to hold her but dared not.
Her lips left his and he almost went after her, but stopped himself in time. She was still leaning against him, and he could feel the heat of her body through the clothing between them. He could feel her breath on his face, and was surprised to find it was almost as unsteady as his own.
He mentally shook himself. “This… my lady, I am drawn to you, make no mistake. But this should not continue. It’s improper.”
She drew back, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “I enjoy making you uncomfortable, Quinn. Keeps you on edge. Sharp.”
He disagreed. “You have a talent for it, my lady.”
She smiled and turned and left the cockpit, and he collapsed back into the pilot’s seat, running a hand through his hair. That had… gone well. But not in the way he would have wished. What was he going to do now?
Time to wait and see for a bit.
And try not to think about the softness of her lips.
There was a high probability he was doomed. She was going to kill him slowly without even noticing.