Below Habits of Thinking

Summary: This triple-drabble was written for the Die J/C Die contest. The title is from a line in Seku Sundiata's poem, Dejerrido.
Characters: J/C, implied other
Rating: NC-17-ish?
Date: 05-18-2005


A deliberate mouth brushes the curve of her waiting neck, bites down gently at the bend of her shoulder. After a year, Chakotay's lovemaking tends toward the perfunctory. Kathryn considers walking away when the contrived midnight, one in a chain of chosen and accidental midnights, forces an obvious and banal realization: she, a middle-aged woman burdened with official responsibility, public respect and private foolishness, desires nothing so much as desire. She is reluctant to stay as her uniform falls. Knowing hands travel the well-surveyed but unstaked territory of her skin, from the inviting rise of her breasts to the open plain of her clenched stomach. Irresolute but responsive, her body stretches and aches.

Yes, she could push this lover (sophic or blind? she wonders) aside in favor of the unconflicting company of her own bed, but percipient fingers curl into and under her hips and before her decision is made, they have opened her, entered her, wakened her. She wants to cry out against the suddenness, against the preemption of choice. But hadn't she chosen? When this insubordinate subordinate demanded her attention first, then her clothing? She loses her grip on the bulkhead and grabs at the strong but slight shoulders, pulls at dark hair for balance. Momentarily she wonders if the ship's artificial gravity is failing, but the soft thump her body makes as she collides with the floor reassures her. She rolls onto her back and pushes upward.

She desires nothing so much as desire, these teeth bruising her flesh, these lips burning her skin, these fingers raking and filling her, rushing her to the edge, drawing the air from her lungs, the blood from her shuddering limbs. In this contrived midnight, Kathryn desires nothing so much as whatever this fierce, growling woman desires from her.

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