Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Will she be alright?”

The voice floated through Una’s consciousness as her mind slowly awoke from the haze clouding her thoughts. Blinking groggily, she opened her eyes only to be assaulted by the harsh brightness that rushed in to blur her vision. 

Una squinted at the figure silhouetted over her, but it took a moment for her mind to process the stern expression beneath the sharp, kohl-lined eyes of the person hovering worriedly by her bedside.

Una tried to push herself up, but her body felt heavy and sluggish, refusing to cooperate.

“La’an?” she croaked; her voice barely audible.

La’an’s expression softened with relief. “Easy, chief,” she murmured. “You decided to nap on the bridge. We’re in sickbay now.”

Una blinked again. Had she really fainted? She struggled to recall the moments leading to her collapse. And her head throbbed with a dull ache, pulsing in time with the rapid beating of her heart. Una recalled, vaguely, the sensation of dizziness creeping over her like a current, threatening to pull her under. But alongside that, a sharp pain had wracked her spine, shooting through her body like a bolt of lightning. 

“I must have been bored,” Una responded after a long moment.

“Quite,” La’an confirmed, solemnly. But then she added, her voice tinged with something verging on fear, “It happened so … suddenly. One moment you were standing next to me, and the next … you were unconscious.” 

As if on cue, a strange sensation rippled along Una’s shoulder blades, like tiny pinpricks of heat spreading outwards. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized the discomfort she felt earlier had not entirely subsided. And she must have grimaced because La’an’s brow furrowed, and she busied her lip with her teeth. 

“Doctor?” La’an snapped, impatiently. 

Trying to take her mind off the pain, Una cast her eyes around the room. She was laying on a biobed with a privacy curtain pulled around it. M’Benga was sat at a small table, fingers running through a diagnostic PADD. 

He seemed unbothered by La’an’s attitude as he glanced up to look at Una. The expression on his face was a mix of curiosity and sympathy. It made Una’s stomach knot - whatever the data was showing, it wasn’t good … but his interest was piqued. 

“There’s an unusual stimulation in each of your shoulders, Commander.”

“Okay,” she said calmly, mostly to keep La’an from panicking, even though she felt unease settled deep in her being. 

“Energy readings are like nothing I’ve seen before,” he added. And that didn’t make Una feel any better. He sat there, his palm cupping his chin, his fingers stroking his beard by his ear, eyebrows furrowed deep in thought. “Not in humans,” he added after a long pause.

Una felt her stomach clench and she shifted slightly under the weight of his meaning. Even though everyone knew – had known now, for months – years of hiding still made her uncomfortable with the outward acknowledgement that she was something else. 

Something … other.

Unconsciously, Una tensed. 

“Well, she isn’t human, is she?” La’an asked, voicing Una’s own thoughts. “what do you mean?”

“I’m aware, La’an. I’ve seen similar energy readings, but only in our bipedal avian friends.”

“So, what does that mean for me?” Una asked, her voice betraying a hint of the apprehension she felt tightly coiling in her being.

“I’m not entirely sure,” M’Benga said. “It’s possible that your Illyrian biology is reacting to some sort of bacteria or other stimulant, but I have not been able to identify the cause.”

“But you said avian,” La’an breathed. “You’re not suggesting Una is becoming a bird, or something, are you?”

Una’s head felt like it was spinning but she nevertheless couldn’t stop herself from giving La’an a really? look. The suggestion felt preposterous, at best. 

Although … “When was I on Synthoria Prime?” Una didn’t like the way her voice sounded so … soft. Not gentle in the way she comforted others, but soft in a way that suggested she was somehow vulnerable or unsure. 

Una was never unsure. But she had to admit, the pain, sudden as it had come on, wasn’t exactly untethered from their last away mission, was it?

“Three weeks ago,” La’an said, and her eyes had narrowed suspiciously as she looked Una over. “Why?”

Una hesitated. 

“If there is something you think occurred that might help explain your condition,” M’Benga prodded gently. 

A few choice memories came rushing back, slicing through the haze still pulsing softly in her mind. Una felt her cheeks start to color. 

“Well … I may have … had a lapse in judgment,” she admitted slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on M’Benga. She could feel La’an’s gaze burning into her skull, and imagined the judgment that would be shining there if she looked at her.

M’Benga looked in-between Una and La’an. “Would you like to speak privately, Commander?”

“I can leave, if you prefer,” La’an added, her voice flat.

“No - that’s … alright,” Una said. The idea of La’an leaving didn’t sit right with her. Not when she was in pain and found La’an’s presence something of a comfort.

Still. There was also another strange feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of admitting certain things in front of her. But they were both professionals. So it was … fine.

“I may have … kissed someone.” 

M’Benga’s expression didn’t change at all. He just said kindly, “Ah. What species?”

“Zephyrian.”

M’Benga nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Give me a moment to review the databases on Zephyrians.” 

Una felt relieved at M’Benga’s calm demeanor. She knew he would be nothing but professional, but there was still something that flopped in her stomach at admitting to not exactly following regulations on an away mission. 

Finally, she glanced at La’an, wondering what she thought of her indiscretion. Even as she did, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and her heart pounded a tick faster. For a moment, there was silence as they looked at each other.

La’an raised an eyebrow, and she prodded, “Yes?”

“...you’re not going to say something?” Una asked.

La’an regarded Una for a moment, unreadable in a way that made Una uncomfortable. “I suppose I could say a lot of things,” she said slowly. Then she looked Una dead in the eye, and said somberly, “But, as this is the first I've heard of it, it doesn’t seem like you’ve ruffled any feathers.”

Of all the things Una imagined her saying, that certainly wasn’t anything she’d entertained. Rather, she had braced herself for reproach, even disappointment. Before she knew it, her shoulders were shaking with relief as a snort escaped her before she could stifle it. Despite the wracking pain that pulsed through her skin, trembling up and down her spine, Una found herself chuckling - somehow, feeling liberated.

“You did not just say that.”

A lightness wrapped around Una even as La’an maintained her sullen expression, the other woman’s presence settling like a comforting blanket. Technically, La’an probably had duty to get back to … but if La’an was content to stay here with her, who was she to gently push her away? 

“Anything?” Una asked when she noticed M’Benga returning.

“I would like to examine you further. Would it be alright if I touched your back?”

“Of course.”

Instinctively, Una reached for La’an’s hand, seeking help to sit-up. As their fingers intertwined the initial coolness of their skin-on-skin contact belied the sudden surge of warmth that followed. The spark ignited a trail of sensation that burned through Una’s body like a wildfire coursing straight to her cunt. 

The rapid, unexpected arousal sent shivers down Una’s spine, and her skin tingled everywhere. Every point of contact between their palms and fingers felt charged with electricity, making Una lick her lips unconsciously. As Una’s gaze drifted across La’an’s torso, she became acutely aware of the subtle curves beneath the fabric of the red shirt.

There’s a body underneath there. 

The unbidden thought jolted her, and her mind was flooded with conjured images of La’an - all pale skin and coiled muscles. Was the skin of her sides and stomach just as soft as her fingers? Softer? Her eyes traced over every contour of La’an’s form as hunger throbbed urgently between her legs.

A ringing pulsed in her ears. As if some dormant energy had been unleashed, Una found her other hand twitching with the desire to rip off every piece of clothing La’an was wearing; to feel her body pressed up against Una’s own; to feel La’an’s fingers deep–

From somewhere in the distance, a moan reached Una’s ears. It took her a moment to realize it was her own.

Una felt her cheeks heat as her brain forced her back into the present. La’an’s gaze was penetrating, and Una could see pink rising up out of the collar of her shirt, crawling up La’an’s neck. Any hope that La’an hadn’t noticed what that sound was was abandoned. 

“Was that …?” La’an started but couldn’t quite get all of the words out - she left the question to hang perilously in the air. 

Behind them, M’Benga cleared his throat, allowing Una a precious second to regain some of her composure. “It was nothing,” she said with an edge of desperation.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” La’an remarked pointedly, her gaze fixed on Una. Una felt her face growing hotter by the second.

La’an’s firm grip pulled Una upright, and she couldn’t help but notice just how strong she was even while it felt somehow … gentle. Even though Una had long been aware that La’an was stronger than her petite frame suggested, she couldn’t but marvel at the way it felt to be handled by her. And this was just benign … the thought of La’an pushing her up against a bulkhead or pressing her into a mattress made her shiver involuntarily. 

And where did these thoughts come from? Some deep, depraved recess of her mind, no doubt. With the desire came the guilt, buzzing in the back of her mind, reminding her of the impropriety of her thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking these things about her subordinate. Her friend. 

And yet … 

Una’s whole body shook as she tried to swing her legs over the side of the biobed. La’an let go of her hand and then helped her straight her legs out, and those touches didn’t cool her down in the slightest. Each tremble was accompanied by another wave of heat trying to claw its way out of her skin.

“Would you remove your shirt?” M’Benga asked, clearly trying to move past Una’s crumbling walls.

The request jolted her back to reality, and she attempted to comply. But her fingers felt oddly numb, and she found herself struggling to lift the fabric of her tunic that somehow felt glued down to her body. Every fumble fueled frustration, stacking on top of her embarrassment, and exacerbating her fragile feelings even as tremors of pain and desire continued to thrum through her body.

“Let me help,” La’an murmured softly, her own cheeks now sprinkled with a delicate pink hue as she moved to lift the shirt up over Una’s head. La’an’s knuckles subtly brushed against Una’s stomach, and she could feel the warmth of them seeping deep into her bones. With a deft movement, La’an freed Una from the confines of both her tunic and her undershirt. The cool air stung at her skin, momentarily relieving Una of the overwhelming sensations still coursing through her body.

“Thank you,” Una managed, feeling relieved her voice, though hoarse, hadn’t sounded too sultry.

The reprieve was short-lived. The soft silky feeling of hands brushing against her back sent an unexpected jolt through her. M’Benga’s touch, though clinical, seemed to make Una’s body tingle anyway, and she barely suppressed another moan as he carefully pressed around the spots that felt sore. Una swallowed hard, trying hard to maintain the last shreds of her composure as his fingers danced across her flesh. 

It was one thing to respond to La’an … It was quite another to succumb to the professional touches of a doctor. 

“Doctor, I–” but her throat felt dry, and her entire body shuddered when he pressed into her skin. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes. The ecstasy was short-lived. Intense pain shot through her back like a lightning bolt. Una stifled a cry, biting down hard on her lower lip until a metallic tang filled her mouth. 

She struggled not to buck under the onslaught of torment, and she barely noticed that La’an had wedged herself between Una’s legs, sliding arms around her waist to hold her still and keep her from sliding off the bed.

“Sorry, Commander,” M’Benga said, genuine concern evident in his tone. His touch continued, though the pressure lessened, becoming gentler and more cautious. 

Una nodded weakly, unable to form any words through the haze of pain. She focused instead on the sound of La’an’s steady breaths and her embrace, a tender sanctuary from the sharp waves of agony rippling through her.

After a long moment, he explained, “You have significant tissue and muscle displacement.”

“Displacement?” La’an echoed and Una lifted her eyes up just in time to see La’an frown deeply.

“Una," he started, and there was a seriousness to his voice that didn't quite match with what he said next, "you’re growing wings.”

Wings? Una wasn’t sure she heard him correctly - except, Una never heard anything incorrectly. But … the notion was absurd. Like something out of a science fiction novel. Or a fantasy. 

La’an stared back at M’Benga over Una’s shoulder before asking incredulously, “How is that even possible?” 

“In theory, it should not be,” M’Benga agreed. “I couldn’t make sense of the readings until you told me you met a Zephyrian. But I was able to find a few records revealing that Zephyrian adults do not grow wings until they are approximately 30 human years.”

“But Una isn’t Zephyrian.”

“I’m aware, La’an,” M’Benga said gently. “They are also known to carry a virus that causes metamorphosis in certain other species on their homeworld, although there has never been, until this point, any known compatibility with aliens.”

Una blinked. The words felt surreal, as if plucked from a distant dream. With the pain still wrecking her, she thought maybe this was a fever dream. She let herself slump forward, leaning against La’an’s warm body. The fabric against her skin was rough, reminding her that the solid form beneath it was probably much, much softer. 

And didn’t that thought just make her neck sweat?

“How would that affect Una? Why wouldn’t her immune system burn it out?” La’an asked with an edge of impatience that made Una smile even as she winced.

“It is curious,” M’Benga agreed. “The records indicated this particular virus evolved as a way to maintain balance in the ecosystem of the Zephyria by creating more winged beings capable of contributing to pollination, seed dispersal, and predator-prey dynamics. It’s possible it is adept at evading immune responses due to its long coevolution with Zephyrians. Or that it targets specific markers related to environmental adaptation. Either could explain why it appears to have affected Una.”

M’Benga’s musings made as much sense as they possibly could while her brain felt like mush and her body was screaming for both pain and … something else. The old science officer in Una found the idea that anything could alter her physiology so easily both terrifying and fascinating. 

“What now?” she half-mumbled into La’an’s shirt as she lifted her head up. 

“I’ll need to monitor your condition closely. Given your debilitating pain and the uncertainty of how long emergence will take, I think it’s best if you stay here. There may be additional symptoms we are yet unaware of.”

The thought of something else was enough to keep her from arguing. What more could there be? The pain was sharp and relentless, but she could endure. The bewildering surge of desire that fogged her brain and skin like a faint mist was disconcerting; her body betraying her in the most intimate of ways. It wasn’t that Una had never been aroused before, but it was rare enough. She knew better than to engage in those sorts of relations with anyone in a uniform.  And this level of intensity was unrecognizable and worse, utterly mortifying. It felt so uncontrollable; so foreign. 

She cleared her throat; aware, not for the first time, of how utterly close La’an was to her. Una opened her mouth to say something. To perhaps, ask M’Benga whether she had also been exposed to some sort of pollen or plant, or if it was somehow tied into this … growth. 

But her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, and her stomach flopped. 

She couldn’t do it - not with La’an pressed so deliciously close to her. The subtle musk of her skin and a hint of cedar licked at the edges of Una’s nostrils, and it took all of her considerable willpower not to press her face back into La’an’s shirt and just inhale.

Una forced herself to concede, “I’m exhausted,” and hoped La’an would be persuaded to give her some space.

🪽

Una blinked slowly, the harsh light of sickbay once more assaulting her eyes. She shifted slightly but her limbs felt like lead, so she opted to just stay as she was. At least she wasn’t in any pain. Whatever M’Benga had given her earlier seemed to be working still. As she glanced around, her eyes came to land on La’an, slumped in a biobed a few feet away. The sight was a surprise – La’an was so notoriously against coming here, Una couldn’t imagine why she was still here.

But her attention drifted to M’Benga who was quickly walking over to her.

“Commander,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than before,” Una admitted. “At least, no pain right now.”

M’Benga nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s good to hear.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand, sending a small buzz through her. It wasn’t anything like the intensity when La’an touched her, but it was still something.

“I’m experiencing a heightened sense of libido,” she made herself say.

His expression remained neutral, but he nodded. “It is not surprising to hear there may be some hormonal shifts accompanying your physiological changes.”

“I don’t know what to do with it.”

M’Benga’s gaze softened, and there was a tug on the corner of his lips.

Una rolled her eyes. “I mean … I know how to do something about it,” she admitted dryly. There was a beat, and she felt the words tugging themselves out of her lips, “On my own. And technically, I know, with other people.”

M’Benga nodded sympathetically. “It is completely normal to feel unsure or inexperienced, Commander. But I must tell you, physical release in this instance may prove only temporary if your heightened sensations are indeed linked to the virus.” 

“I wasn’t able to be with many people before.”

Una wasn’t sure why she suddenly felt the need to explain to M’Benga but … she did. “I never knew if someone else might pass me something that would trigger my immune system and, well, I couldn’t afford to glow at an inopportune time, could I?”

“Hm, I see. And you were not sure if Starfleet prevention would work on you?”

“I look human. Sometimes, I even feel human,” Una agreed softly. “But I - well, you’re right. I just don’t know enough about my own body; or even my genetic alterations to really understand whether the chemicals would react the same way or do the same thing they do for humans.”

“I would be happy to look into this for you, Commander.”

“Thank you, Joseph, that would be … lovely.”

Una hesitated for a moment, wrestling with another secret. But well, he should know, shouldn’t he? If he was going to help her. “It’s not just disease prevention, I’m worried about.”

“I can also test the effectiveness of birth control,” M’Benga confirmed. 

Una sighed in relief; happy he made this conversation so easy. “I need to tell you that Illyrian reproductive systems are essentially androgynous.” 

M’Benga’s eyebrows lifted in surprised as he processed Una’s revelation. She could practically see the question forming on his lips, so she answered it before he could ask.

“Yes, we can reproduce in conjunction with a partner of any gender. Illyrians are capable of both being pregnant or impregnating someone else.”

🪽

Una wasn’t sure how many hours, or days, passed. Time blurred together in a relentless cycle of agony and ecstasy that left her breathless and disoriented. It was mostly the pain that she remembered, dragging her to consciousness with shockwaves that erupted like earthquakes. The sensation of something in her body contorting and shifting beneath her skin was disconcerting. At times, Una thought her very bones were melting or that her muscles were being pulled into a thousand different directions, stretching her to the brink.

And then, just when she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, it happened: the pressure coiling in her shoulders erupted in a messy, glorious birth.

🪽

Una stood in front of the mirror, examining herself. The reflection staring back at her was both familiar and new. Long dark hair flowing like a river, cascading over her shoulders; make-up expertly applied, natural with a hint of gold glitter that added just a touch of magic to her eyes. Pride, familiar and soothing, fluttered in her throat at the stunning figure she cut, especially in the custom-made gold tunic that Uhura had crafted embracing her curves like a glove. It projected everything she wanted: togetherness, beauty, that soft expression of personality that had been her only lifeline for so many years in hiding. 

But what truly captured her attention. What actually was new and daunting and exciting all at once, were her wings, unfurled and majestic, slipping through the tailored slits on the back of her shirt. They arched gracefully behind her–soft feathers of opalescent whites and muted golds that reminded her of sunlight filtering through a morning mist. It was truly striking the way she looked positively angelic. 

They looked like another extension of her body–simply limbs that had been there all along. 

Briefly, Una almost allowed herself to believe it. But almost as soon as the thought came, it was crushed by her faltering control. Her right wing slackened, extending involuntarily until its tip brushed across her dresser, knocking several photographs to the floor.

Fuck.

M’Benga and Chapel - even Chris - had tried to tell her that a few days off wasn’t enough time to fully gain control. They’d warned her off going back on duty. But well … what else was there? Una had already rearranged the duty rosters several times, written multiple performance evaluations, and even delved into completing some long-overdue paperwork of Pelia’s. All of that served to keep her from being too bored and, if she were honest with herself, distract her from the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts that she hadn’t been able to shake. 

Those felt surreal, like a strange cloud fogging every thought. The sheen of lust dusting every thought she had, practically licking at the edges of her brain so intensely that she could barely concentrate on anything else, was obnoxious and mortifying. 

Just yesterday during a check-up, she half-considered propositioning Chapel. Maybe it was the way the nurse’s hands had felt so soft when they brushed anything of Una’s. Or perhaps it was the warmth in Chapel’s ice-blue eyes that somehow seemed inviting. Either way, Una had felt her own cheeks flushing when she caught herself lazily looking over the other woman, eyes raking over the curves hidden beneath the stark white uniform.

Worse, her mind had drifted. Idly thinking about Chapel’s body led her to imagining La’an’s. She could picture the other woman’s collarbone in her mind, how the delicate curve connected seamlessly to her sternum. With each imagined breath, Una vividly envisioned the rise and fall of La’an’s chest beneath the red fabric of her uniform. And there was something tantalizing about the thought of a body lying beneath La’an’s scowl, hinted at but not fully revealed, wasn’t there?

Her yearning to seek out La’an after that became so intense that Una had gone straight to her quarters to take an ice-cold shower, but it did little to stamp out the deep emptiness gnawing at her soul, demanding to be sated.

What she needed - what she craved was a return to normalcy. That could be had on the bridge.

🪽

As it turned out, piloting the Enterprise was distracting when all she could think about were the slender fingers of Lieutenant Mitchell next to her. More than once, Una realized she was sat there, fantasizing about what it would feel like if she were the controls beneath Mitchell’s fingertips. Her skin tingled at the thought of Mitchell running her index finger roughly up Una’s thigh. And Ortegas? Well.

Well.

Somewhere on the edges of her consciousness, Una suspected Ortegas had some sort of attraction toward her. A sort of idolization. One she thought she could … utilize. And it was not hard to imagine Ortegas between her legs–mused hair, lips shining, infatuation written all over her face. Devotion, even.

Except. She really couldn’t be having these thoughts about her subordinates. Even though the crew were pointedly trying not to look, Una could feel eyes burning holes through her feathers, and somehow, that made her feel all the more desperate. Every single one of her wretched thoughts was the reason Starfleet discouraged relationships between the first officer and … well, anyone else on the ship, really. The rules were there to prevent leches like her from leveraging their authority.

Because that was what she was now, right? A lech.

But it didn’t matter how sensible the regulations were or how often Una recited them in her mind. Knowing them was failing to stop her from thinking about sex with just about every woman she came into contact with. Or the way she reacted when anyone touched her wings, however inadvertent.  Despite how hard she concentrated on keeping them furled, if they expanded, just a little, when her mind drifted to other tasks, that wasn’t her fault, was it? 

“At least buy me dinner first!” Ortegas joked the first time the tips of her wings had fluttered across the other woman’s fingers. 

Una quipped back, “I might, if you’re good.” Except those words were coming out of her mouth while she was somewhere to the left of her own brain. 

And then she wasn’t sure whose face was most similar to the color of her uniform – Erica, or La’an, who had overheard them. La’an had cantered off before Una could decide what the expression that flashed across La’an’s face meant. 

But she couldn’t shake the memory of the way La’an’s eyes had darkened ever so briefly. It haunted her throughout the shift in a sort of way that made her twinge with both curiosity and shame for it.

Aftwards, Una attempted to discreetly leave the bridge, eager to distance herself from the not-quite-a-mistake she made. (Because returning to duty was certainly not a misjudgment; any decision to take another personal day would be purely coincidental.) However, that was impossible. Despite her efforts to keep her wings tucked close to her body, they had a mind of their own, unfurling and brushing against anything and anyone in their path. The tips of her feathers rubbed up against the back of La’an’s neck, sending a pleasant sort of intoxication rushing straight to Una’s head.

La’an sharply looked up from her console, expression intense enough that Una almost tripped over her own feet trying to get to the turbolift.

“Hold the lift,” Una heard La’an say once she had retreated into it.

Once the doors closed behind them, the air suddenly thick, the space too small. La’an’s very presence seemed to pin Una to the wall. There was a long moment of silence that felt like an eternity during which Una’s guts rearranged themselves as she pointedly did not look at La’an.

“You seem unsettled,” La’an began, her tone flat, but there was a sort of halting quality to her. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she said, the lie rolling off her tongue almost faster than she could process the question.

La’an took a step closer, her movement deliberate and yet somehow tentative. “Are you quite sure?”

Una could practically feel La’an’s breath on her skin. “Can I help you with something, Lieutenant?” she forced herself to ask as curtly as possible because if she didn’t, there was a chance she’d do something she might regret later.

Now it was La’an who wasn’t looking at her as she grinded out, “I thought you might want … some company.”

The implications of that sent Una’s cunt pounding into her ears and her bones trembling in her skin.

“Company?” Una repeated.

“Yes, company.”

La’an finally met her gaze with a piercing intensity that made Una’s pulse quicken. It felt every bit like an offer. “I’m not sure what you mean,” Una murmured in part because she couldn't trust herself to read the situation correctly.

But the rosy heat that bloomed in La’an’s cheeks confirmed Una’s thoughts were not off base.

“Yes, you do,” La’an chastised immediately, although there was no bite to the words and her skin flushed more. 

Una raised her eyebrows. 

Then there was a sort of petulance to La’an’s tone as she huffed, “You’ve always known.”

The look she gave Una was pointed.

Una licked her lips, and she felt her wings start to ruffle. The euphoria keeping her thoughts floating above her left her questioning if this was all truly happening. “I’ll see you later, then,” Una said slowly, not breaking eye contact. The invitation was left open and vague, intentionally so. There was nothing Una did that was not intentional.

But the way La’an was gazing at her now was something else entirely. Like Una was a dream. Like everything about the offer might not be real. Like she thought Una couldn’t truly want her in that way. Every fiber of Una's being was attuned to La’an’s response, looking for any subtle shift in her expression. La’an, however, just continued to stare. It felt like a warm caress against Una’s skin; as if La’an’s eyes were the sun, burning into her flesh. But Una wouldn’t elaborate further. La’an, if she really wanted this, had to decide that for herself.

Eventually, it was La’an who looked away as she folded her arms over her chest. There was a softening in the edges of her demeanor.

“I get off duty at 1900,” La’an said. It was a statement of fact, but it carried the weight of a promise that made something hot flutter in the pit of Una’s stomach.

🪽

“You’re overthinking this,” Neera’s voice cut through the air with the sharpness of a honed blade.

Una leaned back in her chair, her shoulders slumped as her wings curled inward, obscuring her person from the monitor.

“Stop doing that,” Neera chided with some amount of exasperation. “If I must talk to you, I want to see your face.”

Una snorted. “I really can’t help it,” she admitted.

“Oh? Here I thought there wasn’t anything Una Chin-Riley couldn’t do.”

“Don’t get too comfortable with that idea,” she replied dryly, leaning forward to push the feathers out of her face.

Una had called Neera because there were few other people she could talk to about whatever it was she was going through. The wings, the desire so intense it had teeth, the sudden and violent look in the mirror, being forced to try deciphering exactly who she was. After the trial, she thought she could pace that discovery but now, well - things had accelerated, hadn’t they?

“Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, Una,” Neera said after a beat, cutting the chase the way she always did.

“I’m not sure my thoughts are entirely my own.”

Neera rolled her eyes. Then said with ruthlessness, “You’ve developed feelings for your friend. It happens. You know this.”

Una winced at the blunt assessment, laced with a stinging pointedness Una hoped had been well and buried back home. “Well.”

Neera raised an eyebrow, expression expectant. “Well, what?”

“Have you ever heard of this …?”

“I really don’t have time to spend guessing at what you’re asking.”

Una sighed. “I’ve never felt so …” But the thing was hard to articulate, and she let it trail off, fully anticipating Neera’s annoyance. 

“Horny?”

And why did that bluntness make Una feel so nervous? She chuckled involuntarily. “Well, not exactly.”

“Then spell it out because that’s what it sounds like.”

If she could melt into the floor, Una would have. Instead, she let out an indignant sigh, then relented, “It sounds crass when you say it like that.”

Neera smirked, unphased by Una’s discomfort. "You're a grown woman," Neera said, and she didn't roll her eyes, but she also didn't not roll her eyes.  "If you're feeling some type of way, there is no shame in admitting it."

Una felt her cheeks flush even as a flash of indignance dropped into her stomach like a rock. "It's complicated."

Neera tilted her head, and if Neera wasn't sitting down, Una was sure she'd have a hand on her hip. "How long has been since you were last intimate with someone?" she asked, the smirk was still settled on her lips, but her voice felt gentle.

A sharp stab of defensiveness hit Una in the face, and she squirmed slightly in her chair. But it was that weird gentleness in Neera's voice that somehow magnified her discomfort. Neera wasn't gentle. Not really.  But then Neera's eyebrows were raising, and Una knew she'd been silent too long. And that silence was an answer, wasn't it? A shrewdness fell over her face. And now Una was caught in the spotlight of Neera's knowing gaze - a place she hated to be ... and yet, always was.

"I-" Una started but her lips felt dry now, and something was caught in her throat. And she looked away, embarrassed.

The memory she held on to for so long was the only one she had. A storm had raged outside, and the fury echoed in the relentless patter of rain against the windowpane. Una couldn't hear anything over the sound that felt like had beat against her own skull. Every inhale filled her lungs with wet earth and Neera and the heady musk emanating from her own cunt. And she could still feel the sharp burn of desire throbbing between her legs ... the friction she'd desperately sought, rubbing herself awkwardly against Neera's clothed knee while her fingers grappled for purchase beneath Neera's shirt. 

That was the part she relived, whenever it was she needed release... Of course, the fact that one of Neera's fathers had walked in before they'd gotten any further tainted the memory.

And then ... well; she didn't see Neera again for over twenty years.

"It's been a while, then," Neera stated. And it wasn't gentle like before, but Una knew Neera was letting her off easy. 

"You could say that," Una allowed because ... well, what else was going to say? People weren't intimate for all kinds of reasons ... what she did or didn't do needed no justification.

“Have you considered that this transformation is literally letting you soar?”

Una blinked. She wasn't sure what she expected Neera to say. But it wasn't that. “Well now who's being vague.” 

"I'm not going to pretend I fully understand how fucked up you are after a lifetime of hiding," Neera told her frankly, "But you can't hide those wings, and maybe that's a good thing."

Was she subconsciously giving into things she had always wanted? Lust had always been hiding there, in the background, suppressed into nothingness the way Una had hidden almost everything about herself.  Was this some fucked-up excuse to let go?

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

Neera leaned forward, “That seems obvious, doesn’t it?”

🪽

It was exactly 19:00 when Una’s door chimed.

Even though Una had been expecting La’an, somehow, the chime still startled her. Her skin pulsed. Her wings … rustled. Unconsciously, her tongue had lapped over her bottom lip. A quiet anticipation that had once simmered in her belly roared to life, dragging with it a twitch of arousal.

In a swift movement, Una reached the door. She could have just asked the computer to open it, but … there was some need she couldn’t quite explain, demanding she do it herself.

When the doors opened, she had expected to see La’an.

… and it was La’an.

But a La’an she had never quite seen before. No red security top. Not even trousers. Rather, La’an was wearing a sleek black dress with black flats. Her bare shoulders and neck showed off her brown freckles that seemed to stand out against her creamy skin. But what stood out the most was the long, silky-smooth hair that hung around her face and rested just past her shoulders. 

“La’an?” Una’s voice cracked with surprise.

There was a nervous sort of energy dancing between them. La’an seemed somehow confident and yet … insecure. She cleared her throat. “You gonna let me in, chief?”

“I — yes.”

Una felt her face heating as she stepped aside, still unable to tear her gaze off of the way that dress hugged La’an in all the right places. La’an moved toward the kitchenette, and Una followed.

“You look …” Una started but trailed off because there were no words for the way La’an looked; or how the way La’an looking like that made her feel.

La’an bit her lip, waiting stockstill for Una’s assessment. “You’re beautiful,” Una said at last, although it felt entirely inadequate.

“I was going for sexy,” La’an told her flatly.

Una chuckled and words formed before she could process them, “Oh, believe me, you nailed it.”

La’an moved closer to Una, and Una couldn’t help but notice that their bodies were almost touching. For a second, her stomach clenched when La’an’s hand flew toward her - only La’an wasn’t reaching for her; instead, she grabbed the bottle of wine set out on the table.

“Shall we?” La’an asked but it was rhetorical; she was already pouring each of them a glass, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. 

There was only silence, then. Una sipped her wine. La’an took a timid drink of her own. Then, it was all Una could do to stifle a horrified gasp as a peculiar sight unfolded before her: La’an, seemingly consumed by nerves, abandoned all pretense of elegance as she quickly chugged the contents in one go.

“That’s a 1787 Château Lafite.”

“Yeah, it tasted like it came straight from a museum,” La’an deadpanned. 

Una grinned, the atmosphere becoming more relaxed for half a second before La’an bobbed on the balls of her feet and then barreled into Una, her hand reaching to grip Una by the collar of the uniform top she was still wearing and pulling her closer with an unexpected force.

Without so much as another second passing, La’an’s lips crashed against Una’s in a fervent, desperate kiss.

Una’s wings moved of their own accord, wrapping around La’an in a feathery embrace. Then Una was just in a cocoon of sensation - nothing but lips and teeth and tongue in a frenzied collision, and the overwhelming press of La’an’s body against her own. La’an was nothing but dense muscle - strong. Not as strong as Una but stronger than most humans.

And that made her shiver. 

Una wasn’t sure when it happened, but suddenly, she felt bony fingers wrapping around the tip of one of her wings, and there was a squeeze.

Una’s moan broke the kiss, leaving La’an panting against her neck. With a sheer force of will, Una managed to press her wing harder against La’an’s hand. The speed of her own heart ticked up as La’an’s fingers delicately traced the edges. 

Tentatively. And too slowly.

“La’an,” Una whispered as a foreign sensation flowed through her - the desire, need, to surrender, even as her brain screamed for her to grab control. And it was the sound of La’an’s breath hitching at the way her name rolled off Una's tongue in her husky timbre that made Una’s arousal soar. 

Because fuck, why did it feel so good?

La’an pulled her face back from Una’s neck now and the wide eyes and scarlet flush of her face was enough to make Una’s cunt clench at the sight. 

She wanted to take her place … and, that place was beneath this human, wasn’t it? A place where she could come apart against the weight of being held down. Because La’an could do that. She could body Una around in a way someone else couldn’t, even while Una could still overpower her.

If she wanted to. There was something depraved about those thoughts but … well. There were more pressing things to deal with right now. La’an had let go of her wing and Una huffed with frustration.

“Do it again,” Una commanded, throatily. More desperate than she meant to sound.

La’an shuddered against her, then her fingers caressed the feathery surfaces, and it sparked. But it also wasn’t enough. It was too … soft; too gentle. The touches were somehow overwhelming and not enough all at once.

Una needed more. Something …  “Harder.” And that came out of her mouth before she could think it through. 

She felt La’an squirm against her, and she wasn’t sure if La’an was mortified by the command or mortified that she responded to the command, her whole-body trembling against Una’s; goose pimples breaking out on her exposed arms. Arms connected to hands, hands to fingers. 

Fingers she wanted … 

Then, a sudden crash shattered the air and there was a crunch of glass under her boot, followed by the shocking coolness of the table against Una's face. Her ears were ringing, and her body felt like it was on fire. It took a moment for her to register what had happened—La'an had seized her, swiftly maneuvering her and bending her nearly in half over the kitchen table.

La’an’s hands were pulling tight on her feathers. 

It was painful. It was bliss. 

There was something about the way her hands pushed into the slits on the back of Una’s uniform that felt so… raw. She’s inside me. That was a strange thing to think. But somehow, the thought of La’an’s knuckles straining against the inside of the shirt as she stroked the bones protruding from the slits fed something primal until the sweaty pads of La’an’s fingers touched the juncture where Una’s wings met the flesh of her back, sending a current of white light zinging through her skull, wiping all thought away.

She wasn’t sure she was breathing. Una’s face was slack at the blistering pleasure of it all; she was practically drooling against the table. With a jolt, Una realized her throat was becoming hoarse, her raw moans the only sound in the room, echoing loudly off the walls. And that should have been embarrassing, shouldn’t it? Those noises leaving her body and all La’an was doing was stroking her wings? But she couldn’t bring herself to care that much. Not when there was a heat rising toward a peak behind Una’s eyes. 

There was a suspended moment where it felt like she had just one foot over the edge; her orgasm just dangling there while her body thrummed with anticipation. 

Had La’an … stopped? Una turned her head, trying to see what was happening behind her. She could only catch parts of La’an’s face past the feathers. But it was La’an looking at her with her lips just slightly parted, hair plastered to the sides of her face, and with a look of absolute astonishment, as if she just seemed to realize the power, she had over Una’s body that sent Una flying over the edge with the speed of a shooting star. Her orgasm was hot and quick, surging through her in an urgent wave of pleasure that left her brain in a dizzy mush. 

The shockwaves made her gravity challenged. She might have just slid to the floor if La’an wasn’t pinning her to the table… and somehow that thought made her cunt feel slicker.  And now she was aware of just how wet she was; just how rough her underwear felt sticking to her body.

It took a moment for the fuzzy edges to dissipate, for Una to somehow manage to turn around without her wings knocking La’an too far away. But the sight of La’an’s dress askew and her breath ragged was worth it. The fact that La’an had made her come while dressed up for her felt incredibly hot, and somehow empowering. 

As if La’an could sense her smugness, she stuttered out, “You came hard.”

Some feeling of offense rippled through Una. Why, she couldn’t say. But two could play that game, couldn’t they? “It was … adequate.” 

Her comment had the desired effect, La’an’s eyes bulging slightly. “I think we both know that isn’t true.” Then, she tugged on Una’s wing, forcing Una to whimper, disproving her own point.

But she wanted La’an with a ferocity that bordered on obsession … which she would have to examine sometime. Later. 

Now, she grasped La’an and pressed her lips against her ear. “You’re right,” she whispered gently. “It was incredible.”

Una practically felt La’an swallow hard at that, and when she wasn’t all take-charge, she was almost skittish. Like the praise was somehow worse than the teasing, stipping away La’an’s defenses, leaving her strewn out raw and uncertain and achingly beautiful. 

La’an didn’t say anything to that; rather, she squirmed. 

Pulling back, Una searched La’an’s eyes, her own expression tender. She could see there was something settling on the tip of La’an’s tongue, that she was struggling to express something. Usually, Una was good at being patient but with the hum of her orgasm still lingering, and desire to be consumed still settled in the back of her throat, it was difficult. 

After what felt like an eternity, La’an’s words stumbled over each other rin her sudden haste to get them out. “Yes, well, I had been thinking about that.” 

Una raised her eyebrows. “Oh, were you now?”

La’an’s face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. 

“Didn’t peg you as a birder,” Una continued.

La’an coughed. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“No?” La’an shifted uncomfortably under Una’s gaze, and wasn’t that a sight? 

“No, not exactly.”

“Then what did you mean?”

La’an took a deep breath, like she was steeling herself for something. “I meant … I wasn’t asleep that day.”

Una’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What day?”

“Um … you know, when you told M’Benga about…”

Una’s confusion deepened as she tried to recall what La’an was referring to. Then it hit her. The memory flooded back, and Una’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Oh.”

La’an nodded. “...that’s what I’ve been thinking about.”

For some reason, Una was struck with mortification - there was something far more exposing about La’an hearing that conversation than there was with La’an making her come apart on a table. “Which part, exactly?” Because there had been several… revelations.

“...how you haven’t been with people, really.”

Una’s heart skipped a beat as she processed La’an’s words. She felt … exposed? Vulnerable? But also … strangely exhilarated.

“What have you been thinking about, exactly?” Una asked, nonplussed. 

“That I’m not … alone, in feeling hesitant,” she said, sounding exactly hesitant. But the way La’an was shuffling made Una think that wasn’t all.

“What else?”

There was a flicker in La’an’s eyes, and her mouth twitched. “That I want to fuck you.”

There was another thrum of desire that went straight to Una's cunt even as she pointed out dryly, “Well, you just did.”

“But I want to … do it…” and there was a breath, and La'an's face was almost purple now. “Properly.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Una prodded, her voice gravely now because "properly" could only mean one thing.

La’an stuttered, “However you want.”

Then Una smirked. “Well, La’an, you’re the expert.”

“I haven’t. Well, I have. But I’m not—”

Una stared at La’an for a moment, her insides twitching. Maybe she didn’t have that much experience, but she did know what she wanted. “Undress me.”

The words seemed to echo in the silence that hung between them. La’an’s demeanor shifted – a quickening of her breath, a flush creeping up her pale neck, a predatory glint in her eyes. It was a response that left no doubt about the effect of Una's words on her. Una felt herself getting wetter at the thought – that La’an would obey. And she probably shouldn’t be so turned on by that … it was, well, inappropriate, to say the least. 

“I mean … if you want,” La’an said nonchalantly although the quiver in her words made it obvious that La’an wants. 

They’d already broken a half-dozen regulations at this point, Una figured. “Oh, I want.” As if to emphasize that, she stepped forward, placing herself within arm's reach of La’an.

But she couldn’t ignore how La’an’s muscles tensed ever so slightly, how her brow furrowed with the effort of keeping hidden the way a faint tremor rippled in her shoulders. There was something quite powerful about watching La’an shiver at their closeness, even though Una could see she was trying not to.

Then La’an was reaching out, and her fingers trembled as they grazed the fabric of Una’s tunic. They pressed lightly into the fabric above Una’s breasts, then slowly dragged along the shirt, arching over the curves of them. La’an’s lips had opened slightly, her mouth framing into a soft ‘oh,’ and her eyes were wide like saucers. If she wasn’t just barely fondling Una, Una might have thought she was witnessing the birth of a star. 

The look was doing something to Una - warming her up everywhere, even as she felt a need to just pull her shirt off for La’an.

“Take your time,” Una murmured, her voice intentionally light, attempting to mask the urgency pulsing beneath the surface.

It was La’an’s eyes that responded - skating the length of Una’s entire body, from the curve of her jaw, down her neck, back to the swell of her breasts and down to her hips. That gaze felt more intimate than caressing of her wings had, and Una’s breath caught in her throat, knowing this was all so wrong but unable to stop herself from shivering under it. 

“...Sorry,” La’an mumbled though maybe she wasn’t entirely sure what she was sorry about, but her face was a shade of red Una never knew a human could turn.

And when her wings moved of their own accord, pushing La’an into Una so that she was practically melting into Una’s body, that wasn’t her fault, was it? Then, the way La’an’s arms reactively wrapped around her, how La’an’s fingers brushed against her feathers as they did so, all of it served to make Una’s head warm and fuzzy. 

“Oh,” said La’an, with some surprise as her hands moved up Una’s back. “There’s a zipper here.”

Una chuckled. “Hm, Uhura thought of everything.” 

Her heart was pounding hard in her head, so Una could feel, more than hear, the zipper being undone – the smooth glide of metal tracing down from the base of the wing slit to the hem of her tunic.  Once La’an released the zipper on each side, Una felt the weight of the tunic being lifted away, and the cool air coming to caress her exposed skin. 

“Wow,” La’an said breathlessly, eyes glued to Una’s nipples. 

Una arched an eyebrow. “Impressed?” she teased, not bothering to hide her smirk. 

“...I wasn’t expecting…” but La’an’s voice trailed off as she struggled to find her footing.

“You thought I was wearing a bra,” Una supplied, smug as she preened under La’an’s appreciative, if tongue-tied, gaze. 

But that awe in La’an’s eyes still lingered, like Una had given her a gift. The sensation of that was … a lot. Exhilarating. Unsettling.

She sees me, Una thought. Could she see not just Una’s body, but the woman behind all those layers of carefully construed facades and guarded secrets? That was a bit terrifying, really. She’d had to be so careful for so long with everyone … Nakedness, in and of itself, had never bothered Una – she’d been naked in front of other people before (and maybe she had secretly relished when someone appreciated her figure.)

But now, there was a bubbling in her stomach with the way La’an’s eyes were boring into her, stripping away all pretenses. Una felt naked - but it was a different sort of naked. As if peeling off her tunic was akin to shedding armor, invoking a rawness at being exposed; liberated; known.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when she felt La’an’s fingertips tug at the waistband of her trousers. Rough pads brushing against her smooth skin, jolting her nerves with electricity. 

“Well,” La’an’s voice was thick, “you are wearing underwear, then.”

“I can’t scandalize you too much, in one day, can I?” 

But then La’an’s knuckles were pushing into Una’s skin as she adjusted her fingers to grab the band of her panties along with the trousers. For a moment, Una was caught in that liminal space between clothed and completely naked. 

Then Una’s breath caught in her throat as she watched La’an’s dark eyes, intense as they were, darken further, like an eclipse swallowing the sun. The world seemed to narrow around them, as if they were the only people on the starship. Anticipation pulsed through her veins as the fabrics pooled at her feet. When La’an didn’t move, Una did. She dipped her face toward La’an, inhaling the scent of cedar and skin, before letting her lips touch the hollow of La’an’s neck. 

La’an’s response was a low, throaty moan that reverbated into Una’s bones. Una hungrily seized La’an’s hand and pressed it against her breast. La’an needed no direction to pinch her nipple, and the sharp pain of it made her brain explode in that delicious way a fiery kiss of spice igniting her tongue did.

“Bed,” Una mumbled through the haze.

La’an shook against her. “Yes,” she breathed, barely audible over all of the tension thundering between them. There was a bit of a shared urgency then, as they scrambled through Una’s quarters. If Una wasn’t existing somehow both inside and outside of her body all at once, she might have laughed at the absurdity of it.

When they reached her bedroom, the bed stood, waiting to embrace them. And then Una was being shoved roughly onto her back, and she grasped at La’an, pulling the younger woman down on top of her, as the mattress seemed to yield beneath their weight. 

There were elbows everywhere. In awkward places, even. But Una shrugged it off, and reached up, tangling her fingers into the locks of La’an’s hair and pulling in a way that made La’an shudder and gasp. She didn’t know La’an could make those sorts of noises … and well, she wanted to know what other sounds she could pull out of her.

La’an’s breathing was shallow as she adjusted herself so that she had slid between Una’s legs, parting her thighs with her hips. With a tentative hand, she reached out, her fingers hovering just above Una’s skin. “Can I…?” 

Una’s first instinct was to just say yes, emphatically, but a shiver went down her spine as she remembered, vividly, La’an’s reactions to being commanded. So, she suppressed the strange impulse to beg for it and firmly asserted, “Touch me.”

Then La’an’s hands were cupping her breasts, thumbs pushing and rubbing hard over her nipples. A wet mouth pressed against her sternum. Una felt the flat of La’an’s tongue blazing a trail on her flesh. For a moment, Una thought wildly about restraint, that she shouldn’t be too loud; that she should keep herself in check.

But why?   Those were the same sorts of thoughts that had kept her safe for all these years, but … what purpose did they serve now, she wondered, other than to be shackles?

Una nearly bolted out her skin when she felt La’an’s tongue on her vulva. Everything was unfolding so rapidly, and Una had to wonder, when did La’an get down there?

But she couldn’t think about it for long because La’an started licking. She must be tasting Una - the stickiness of her prior orgasm still lingering between her legs. That was a thought Una let sweep her away as the sensations left her reeling. Before her brain could really process it, La’an was sucking - not just Una’s clit, but somehow, the breath right of Una's body, too.

"Wait...!" the words were coming out of her mouth, but they were dragging behind what was happening. It was too late. She felt La'an's tongue poke into her body and realized with a gripping horror that had happened seconds before she'd cried out. 

La'an immediately pulled back, loosening but not releasing her grip around each of Una's thighs. "Are you okay?" she ventured. 

Had La'an not ... noticed? "It's ... wonderful," Una panted. She wanted to look away, feeling a sense of embarrassment tickling the back of her throat. But La'an was a vision between her legs, dress clinging to her, sweaty in so many places, lips glossy with Una. "It's just-" And it was hard to think much, with La'an looking like that. With the way her cunt was pounding in through her skin, begging to be touched again.

"The grippy ... thing?" La'an offered helpfully.

Una stared at her. She had noticed. And she wasn't ... repulsed? "I meant to warn you, I just ..." Una waved a hand around in a helpless gesture, all words dissipating into the air like smoke.

"Well," La'an began slowly. "I've never been licked back quite like that before."

Una flushed. "It's not exactly licking you," she said, unable to stop herself from correcting La'an's misapprehension.  

La'an arched an eyebrow, snorting.

"Gripping was more precise," Una continued with a sort of apologetic tone, a little less haughty. Every breath felt like it was beating in between her legs, and she added in a rush, "It's my kry'lax." And well, that was just another reason she had kept to herself for so long, wasn't it? Because how could she explain it to anyone when she was a "human?" But, well, La'an' knew the truth now, didn't she? The thought made Una shiver, a desert heat prickling across her arms. And if La'an had felt it, when she'd stuck her tongue inside her ... then, maybe, she hadn't scared her off? 

A gentle hum emanated from La'an, sending a shiver down Una's spine. Then she felt La'an's fingers press harder against the tender flesh of her thighs. "Um ... I liked it, you know," La'an confessed in a hesitant whisper, her eyes darting off to the side. And didn't that make Una's insides melt? The gentle caress of the prehensile kry'lax had always felt nice on Una's own fingers when she'd fingered herself... Then La'an flicked her gaze back at Una, probably saw Una's skeptical pinched brows, and she took a deep breath, and there was almost a grumpiness to the way she forced out, "I like you."

Oh. Well.

Una should respond to that because La'an didn't really do feelings - at least, she didn't admit to them. But Una wasn't sure there were words that encapsulated what she felt for La'an. "I'm a morning person," Una said instead - which was utterly ridiculous, but she was struggling to put cohesive thoughts together. La'an's nails were cutting against her flesh in that way that was distracting, and her clingy dress reminded Una that there was a body beneath it. "My lights are programed to turn on like dawn. You know? That gentle warmth that banishes the darkness."

There was another pause before La'an asked dryly, "Am I the dawn or the darkness in this story?" Despite the inquiry, Una could see the wide, dark saucers of La'an's eyes, pupils all but gone. 

Una licked her lips. "Right now, you feel like the darkness," she retorted because the thundering demand had not lessened. "If you could just-"

La'an didn't even let Una finish that sentence before she had tightened her grip on Una and pulled her close again, ducking her head immediately to press her tongue back against Una's clit. La'an was relieved, Una thought somewhere above herself, to stop talking about feelings. And well, Una wasn't complaining.

She knows who you are. She could let go now. Her own moans pounded into her eardrums, and her feathers rustled. They pulsed with an energy of their own, mirroring the rhythm of her sharp breaths. Una used her free hand to stroke the feathers beneath her fingers, unleashing new waves of intensified bliss. Complete abandon seemed to let Una soar higher and higher as she careened wildly towards the edge again with each flick of La’an’s tongue.

Una pulled tightly enough on La’an’s hair that La’an yelped around her clit, somewhere in the distance. But her body was convulsing just then as she fell into oblivion.

🪽

“I am going to have to report this,” Una said softly as she curled her fingers into La’an’s hair, and pulled her closer, enjoying the feeling of her breasts against La’an’s warm back, and the knowledge that La'an's dress was somewhere tangled at their feet.

“I already have.”

“I’m sorry - what?”

“This was sanctionable conduct if not properly documented,” La’an said simply as if it that explained it.

“...you documented it?” Part of Una was mortified and part of her was surprised. “How?”

La’an’s face somehow got redder than it already was. “According to the regulations,” she said, vaguely.

“You told the captain?” Una prodded.

“Practically.”

Una snorted. There was something deeply funny about the idea of La’an telling Chris she planned to … well, this. “What did you tell him?” she asked, because now, she needed to know. Not just because the idea amused her, but also - whatever it was La’an said, Una was sure Chris would spring on her.

“The regulations required a form. I filled out the form.”

“They also required the captain to ask certain questions, to ensure it was consensual,” Una pointed out. As XO, she had been tasked with doing this, at times. 

“Yes, but they didn’t specify when that part was to occur.” 

“So,” Una started slowly, deciding to press her, "what did you do with the form?"

La'an shrugged and Una felt her tense against her. "I put it an envelope and left it with the head of HR."

"You left it with HR?" Una repeated incredulously but her amusement threatened to overtake her. "And you do realize, I am HR?" La'an did it intentionally, Una was sure. Still. She wanted to hear her admit it.

"Easier to burn the evidence if ... this didn't happen," La'an said as she wiggled against Una, pressing her bum right up against Una's cunt and that sent a wave of awakening right to her core. 

Still, Una kept her voice even, as she teased, “And you're confident I want to keep jumping into bed with you, then?"

La'an seemed to choke at that.

Una chuckled softly, letting her fingers trace lazy circles on La'an's arm. "Well, I suppose I'll have to thank you for your thoroughness." 

"Oh?" La'an squeaked.

Una didn't say anything else. She didn't need to. She just let herself trail kisses along La'an's jaw.