Date:         Fri, 17 Nov 1995 14:55:59 -0600
Reply-To:     Julia Kosatka <JKosatka@UH.EDU>
Sender:       Highlander TV show stories <HLFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
From:         Julia Kosatka <JKosatka@UH.EDU>
Subject:      In the Dark, 15/21 (REPOST) ADULT

fingertips trace the curve down to the firm warmth of his mouth.  He
turned his head and placed a kiss in her palm, then caught her hand and
moved it back down to her side.
       "Be still for now,"  he whispered.  "I want to learn you without
distractions."
       It was as if he'd read her mind.  The coiled spring within her
wound a notch tighter.  His fingers moved up her thigh to her hip, finding
the soft hollow below the hipbone there.  She arched into his touch,
wanting more.  He shook his head, smiling.
       "Amazing, isn't it?"  he asked softly
       "What?"  she managed to ask, not understanding immediately.
       "The fact that though we come from worlds light-years apart, still
we share enough similarities to make this possible.  Doesn't that seem odd
to you?"
       She shook her head.  "The strands of life tend to bend in certain
ways.  It's not so strange when you remember that the old tales of the
Preservers are true, we share their beginnings. I, for one, am glad of it;
otherwise, this would be an exercise in futility."
       "Mmm,"  he breathed, "...now that would be a shame."  His fingers
strayed lower, making her tense in anticipation.  His expression changed,
one eyebrow lifted.  "Speaking of differences...  forgive my curiosity,
but is it natural?"
       She knew immediately what he referred to.  "It is for me, for
whatever reason.  No body hair at all."
       "Ah, that explains it."
       "You don't... mind, do you?"  she asked, suddenly nervous.
       "Mind?"  He grinned wickedly.  "I subscribe to the Vulcan
philosophy, infinite diversity in infinite combination."
       She laughed. "Infinite combinations?  Sounds wonderful... but I'm
afraid we may have to settle for less, at least this time around.  I do
have to work tomorrow."
       Duncan chuckled. "We'll see what we can manage.  What do you like?"
       She gazed into his eyes, finding them compelling, lit with both
humor and desire.  She swallowed heavily, and almost dragged him down to
her when she remembered where they were.  "I'd like to get off this couch.
I still say we're too old for this."
       He smiled and held up his hands in surrender.  "As you wish."  He
rolled to his feet in a smooth movement and extended his hands to her.
       She put her hands in his, and he drew her to her feet, then up
against him.  She'd almost forgotten how tall he was, but being
nose-to-chest with him reminded her forcibly.  He slid his fingers under
her chin, lifting her face, and bent to take her lips with his; molding
her mouth, urging her lips apart, then tasting her with his tongue.  Her
arms slid around him, her body angling into his, feeling the strength and
substance of him.  It rocked her, warmth flowing from where they met to
swirl and surge in the deep places inside her, places she'd tried to
pretend she didn't have any more.  How could she have forgotten this?   He
led her in a kind of dance, their bodies swaying together, pressed
together along breast, and hip, and thigh.  She didn't even realize what
he was doing until she felt the edge of his bed behind her knees.  Without
breaking their kiss he slid his hands down her body to her hips, lifted
her onto the bed and followed her down, settling himself beside her.  The
ease with which he accomplished the change in position amazed her, and she
pushed gently against his shoulders until he finally released her.  She
caught her breath and looked up at him, eyes wide.
       "My God, Duncan... and this is you out of practice?  I think my
poor old heart couldn't take you in practice,"  she said, only half
joking.
       He smiled, a liquid, melting smile, and put his fingers against her
lips.  "Hush now, stop hiding, stop distracting.  Let's find out who we
are together."
       She felt heat flood her face as she realized he'd seen through her
attempt to take the edge off the intensity by making light of it.  She'd
hardly known she was doing it, but he had.  She caught her breath as he
found the catch on her caftan and it yielded to his touch, falling open.
His fingers skimmed a path down the center of her body, from the hollow of
her throat, over the slight rise of her breastbone, into the declivity
just below it, farther, to her navel, to the gentle rise of her belly.  He
stopped there, his hand a cool, soft pressure.
       "Like velvet..."  he whispered.  "Silk, and velvet.  There is such
a mystery to you."
       She shook her head, embarrassed.  "No mystery, just a woman."
       "Woman is mystery,"  he corrected her, his other hand cradling her
face.  "So much mystery, I'll never fathom it all."
       She shivered delightedly.  God, she loved it when he talked like
that!  There was a poet buried inside him, despite his claims to the
contrary.  She reached up and took his hand, moved it forward until his
fingers were against her lips.  Delicately, she let her tongue flick out
to taste each one. He closed his eyes, seeming to focus every bit of his
concentration on what she did.  A soft moan purred from his throat, and
she smiled.  Oh yes, he knew how to feel, how to extract every last bit of
sensation from life.  On her belly his hand flexed, pressing lightly, his
long, blunt fingers reaching downward, skimming the soft, bare skin that
had surprised him earlier.
       She tensed, not quite ready for that touch yet, and instantly he
stopped, his hand retreating, moving higher, coming to rest on her
ribcage, just below her breast.  She felt her nipples tighten but he made
no move to touch her breasts, instead he gently drew his other hand away
from her mouth, carrying hers, and his lips found her wrist.  She arched
involuntarily as fire arrowed through long-unused pathways to add more
fuel to building conflagration in her belly.  He looked at her, eyes
narrowed and knowing, then very deliberately drew a path down her wrist
and into her palm with his tongue.
       She heard a broken moan, was that her voice?  She couldn't believe
it!  He'd never been with a woman of her species before, yet twice now
he'd unerringly discovered places only a man of her own kind should know.
       "Duncan... how did you...?"  she let the question fade, knowing it
was foolish.
       She felt his mouth move on her skin as he smiled, felt his breath
against her skin as he spoke.
       "Your body told me.  I listen well."
       She laughed breathlessly, a little frightened by the feelings he
engendered in her.  This time, her attempt to divert his attention was
deliberate.  "And here I thought I was the Listener."
       It didn't work.  He kissed her palm, and spoke against it, his lips
tickling her.  "Shhhhhh... just feel."
       He made love to her hands and wrists like most of her human lovers
had paid court to her breasts.  Kissing, licking, sucking, until she was
out of her mind with pleasure.  She wanted to repay him in kind, but he
wouldn't let her go long enough for her to reach him.  After a bit he
stripped her caftan off completely, turned her onto her belly and went to
work on her neck again; using lips, tongue, teeth and breath to bring her
to the edge time and time again.  He found that her sensitivity extended
the length of her spine, and took advantage of that, delicately nipping
and kissing his way up and down her back.  By that point, all she could do
was clutch at the sheets and moan from the aching delight and frustration
of it.
       It wasn't until she found herself opening her thighs and pushing
back against him, trying to make him take her, that she realized he was
still fully clothed.  That brought her to herself, and she rolled over and
pounced on him, yanking open his coverall until she could get at bare
skin.  After some trying she managed to bare a vee of skin from neck to
just below his navel, but was stopped there by the way the damned thing
was made.  It thwarted her efforts to relieve him of it without his
complete cooperation, and by that time he was laughing too hard to do much
in the way of that.  Determined not to be bested by a piece of fabric, she
got a fistful of coverall in each hand, and yanked, hard.  The coverall
tore with a satisfying rip, and Duncan surged to a sitting position, eyes
wide.
       "What are you about, woman?  Destroying my clothes?"
       She grinned triumphantly.  "If that's the only way to get you out
of them, yes!  Don't worry, I'll get you a new one."
       Since he was sitting up she was able to drag the sleeves down and
off so that what was left of the jumpsuit lay in shreds around his hips.
She stared at what she'd revealed, then looked up at his face.  He'd gone
quiet on her, but she could see the banked embers in his eyes, waiting to
flare.  She put her hands against his shoulders and pushed him down onto
his back.  He let her, and even lifted his hips to free the fabric from
beneath himself so she could finish what she'd started.  She dropped the
mangled coverall on the floor, and for a long moment she just studied him,
amazed.
       "You're so..."  she began.
       He sighed.  "Yeah, I know.  Beautiful."
       She grinned.  "Big."
       A quizzical smile lifted one corner of his mouth.  "I've been
around long enough to know average when I see it."
       "Duncan, nothing about you is average.  Nothing at all."
       He shrugged.  "Not had many human men, have you?"
       "More than you have, in all likelihood,"  she said with a knowing
grin.  "Trust me on this."
       He blushed.  She wouldn't have noticed, except that it started
somewhere around his sternum and moved up.  She watched it, fascinated.
       "What did I say?"
       He shook his head.  "Nothing."
       "Ah... I see,"  she said, knowingly, though she wasn't quite sure
she did know.
       He made a strangled sort of sound and hid his face in his hands.
She wondered exactly what that reaction meant, and then realized his
position left him singularly vulnerable.  A slow smile lit her face and
she eased herself over him, leaning down.  When she found him, he
shuddered, his hands ravaging the covers.  She cupped him in her hands,
and closed her mouth around him, letting her tongue steal out to taste the
tender, silken length of him.  His pulse beat against her lips, fast and
strong.  She could feel the trembling in the muscles of his thighs as he
fought for control, and smiled inwardly, pleased by his reaction.  She's
learned a few things over the years, herself, she'd never known a man who
objected to having a womans' mouth on him.  Duncan was no exception.


                                          ****


       Duncan wondered how long he was going to be able to take it.  He
was used to being the one in control since after so long, no matter how
much he tried to lose himself in sensation, he generally wasn't able to
completely relax.  That was certainly not the case now.  Whether it was
knowing there were no other immortals to guard against aboard the ship, or
perhaps simply the sense of rightness which being with an equal gave, her
touch set him off like no woman had in a very long time.  His sensitivity
wasn't helped by the extended period of celibacy he was coming off of.
That hadn't really been natural for him, and his normal inclination toward
sensuality was reasserting itself in spades.
       Until she'd turned and started on him, he'd been able to keep his
own desires subordinate, but now they were almost out of control.  Not
wanting to end things quite this soon, and knowing he would if she didn't
stop, he reached down and tangled his fingers in her braids, feeling them
slide and writhe against his palms like Medusa's snakes.  For some reason
even that was profoundly erotic.  He gently urged her mouth away from him,
and only when she'd let him go did he begin to relax, his breathing ragged
and shallow.  She looked up at him with the self-satisfied grin of a cat
in a dairy, and he found himself laughing.  God... it felt good, both to
laugh, and to feel.  She'd done that.  She'd done both.
       "Guinan, you're a witch,"  he said softly, running a fingertip
along the full softness of her lower lip.
       She laughed.  "I've been called worse."  Her fingers idly traced
the line of dark hair that arrowed downward from his chest, randomly
dipping down to remind him who was in charge.  He closed his eyes and
cupped his hand over hers the next time it strayed, holding her palm
against him.  It was almost as hot as her mouth had been.
       "You're so hot,"  he said, thrusting gently against their cupped
hands.  Without the slick moisture of her mouth on him, the stimulation
was easier to take.
       She nodded, her fingers curling closer around him.  "We must have
different basal temperatures, you seem cool to me."
       He regarded her curiously.  "Do I?  Interesting!"
       She smiled wickedly.  "It certainly is.  In fact, the contrast is
quite... stimulating."
       He imagined what she meant, and his smile echoed hers.  "Fire and
ice?"
       "Precisely."
       "Don't worry, I won't melt,"  he said, he slid his hand up to her
wrist, tracing tiny, intricate patterns on her skin until he felt her
shiver with response.  Her erogenous zones were certainly unique; her
back, her wrists, and... where else, he wondered?  Were she human he would
know his next goal, but she wasn't.  Well, if there was one skill he'd
learned over the years, it was how to ask directions when he was lost.
       "Show me, Guinan.  Where next?"
       She looked at him for a long moment, her dark eyes unfathomable,
then she took his hand and put it over her mons.  He curved his fingers
over the rise, down into the shadowed cleft, feeling heat and moisture.
She closed her eyes and arched slightly, her thighs opening to his hand.
Further exploration informed him that she was indeed much the same as a
human woman.  Though the bareness of her was startling, he recognized the
small lift of her clitoris, the soft convolutions of inner and outer lips
leading to the deep well of her body.  He eased a finger between the
folds, touched the heart of her, and felt her hand tighten on him in
response.  He smiled a little.  That too was the same.
       He reached over and ran his hand up the outer curve of her thigh,
past the generous swell of hip, and into the incline of her waist.  He
leaned over and pressed a kiss against the lush curve of her belly,
stroking his hand down, following it with his mouth until he reached his
goal without startling her.  Her scent was like mulled wine on a cold
night, sumptuous and spicy, utterly alien, utterly compelling.  He pressed
her thighs apart and tasted her, and as she arched and sighed he found her
flavor as subtly intriguing as her scent.  He cupped the generous curves
of her hips in his hands and tilted her up to meet his mouth.  She
encouraged him, one hand curving over the back of his head, her fingers
tangling in his hair, following his movements.  Her hips lifted with each
stroke of his tongue and she made small, wordless sounds of pleasure that
drove him on.  He used his fingers to part her and drank from the source
of her sweetness.  She shuddered, her hands clutching at his shoulders.
       "Duncan..."  she gasped, "N'aann, Duncan... idai!"
       He couldn't understand her words, but he knew what she wanted
anyway.  He slid a finger into her.  She was slick and fiery, and
stunningly tight.  This woman had borne a child?  How?  This, apparently,
was one of those differing details.  He eased his finger deeper, and she
eased with it, relaxing.  He relaxed a little himself, having been a touch
concerned for a moment there.  He soothed another finger into her and she
wiggled a little. He took the hint, caressing her with long, gentle
strokes.  She sighed, and the wiggle became an undulation, rhythmic and
soft.  He rested his head against her thigh and spread his free hand
across her belly, pressing lightly, while his other hand caressed her both
within and without.
       "So warm, so rich... like the earth in my hands,"  he whispered.
       She shuddered suddenly and moaned, and he felt the pulsing clasp of
her around his questing fingers.  He smiled.  That was the same, and it
told him everything he needed to know.  When the pulses faded, he gently
withdrew his hand from her and let his fingers rest on the furled softness
of her, feeling her shiver at his cool touch.  After a moment she sighed
and reached down to run a finger along the edge of his ear.
       "Lovely, Duncan, but I want more."
       "God, I certainly hope so,"  he said fervently.
       "Come to me now,"  she whispered, holding out her arms.
       He slid up her, coming to rest with his hips between her thighs,
arms braced to keep his full weight off her.  She shifted beneath him,
lifting to him, and slipped a hand between them to guide him.  A moment of
caught breath, then he was inside her, held softly in the cradle of her
body.  He closed his eyes and fought the urge to cry.  There was
homecoming in this, life, contentment, even though his body still ached
for completion.
       She reached up and took his face between her hands, urging him down
to her, and he kissed her, claiming her mouth with all the passion he
owned, as his body seized the initiative, driving deep into her liquid
fire.  She held him to her, wrapped around him, moving with him, accepting
him, taking everything he had to give.  After so long without, he had no
control.  He took her with an elemental ferocity, yet she made no protest
to his near-violence, and even urged him on.  The end came on him fast and
hard, and he shuddered to a halt, buried in her heat and softness as he
threw back his head and cried out his release, his body taut with almost
painful pleasure.
       When it left him, he sagged against her until he remembered how
small she was, then he turned onto his side, carrying her with him.  She
shifted a thigh over his hip and held him, gently stroking his hair away
from his face so the cool air could reach him to still his panting.  They
lay so for a long time, until he finally caught his breath and looked at
her, his expression rueful and apologetic.
       "I'm sorry, love.  That wasna' my best effort."
       She chuckled, a deep, low sound that he could feel in his bones.
"Oh yes, Duncan, it was.  That was the best compliment you could have
given me."
       He stared at her for a moment, then a slow smile tugged his mouth
upward.
       "Aye, I suppose in a way it was."
       She looked at him quizzically.  "Did you know your accent gets
thicker when you're... overwrought?"
       He grinned, nodding.  "So I've been told."
       "I like it, it suits you. Too bad it's already fading."
       "If you want to hear it, I suppose you'll just have to get
me...overwrought...again."  he said, winking.
       She trailed a hand up the back of his thigh, and higher, stroking
softly. "I don't anticipate that being much of a problem, do you?"  she
asked, doing something very interesting with the muscles inside her.  He
felt himself stirring, and shook his head slowly.
       "It doesn'a seem so, does it?"


                                           ****


       Sunlight.  She wished there were sunlight, the warm, focused,
butter-yellow light of Terra's star.  Instead there was just the cool,
soft glow of the Enterprise's lightpanels.  It just wasn't the same.
Still, waking up was a pleasant thing this morning, surround as she was by
the warmth and human comfort of Duncan's body.  He lay behind her,
cradling her against him.  Guinan glanced down at his hand where it rested
on her thigh, noting how light it seemed in contrast to her own
chocolate-brown.  She smiled, thinking that it probably wasn't often he
was thought of as fair-skinned.  She knew he was awake.  Quiet, she
sensed, but peaceful.  So was she.  She reached down and put her hand over
his, idly tracing his fingers with hers.
       "I could get used to this, Duncan."
       He chuckled.  "Good morning to you too."
       He stretched.  She felt the muscles move beneath his skin, and
closed her eyes, savoring the closeness.
       "Thank you for staying," he said, his voice shaded with meaning.
"That's twice in one lifetime."
       "What is?"
       "That you've brought me out of the darkness."
       "We brought each other."
       "You never seem so far in the dark as I do."
       "I hide it better," she sighed.  "Any idea what time it is?"
       "None, why?"
       "I usually have breakfast with Deanna, she'll wonder..."
       "No she won't,"  Duncan interrupted, amused.  "She's a Betazoid,
remember?  She'll know why."
       Guinan felt her skin warm, and shook her head, laughing at herself.
"I'm blushing.  I don't believe it."
       He smoothed the backs of his fingers over her cheek, sensing the
heat there.  "Why?"
       "I--"  she frowned, and finally figured out how to say it.
"Because this isn't who I am to these people.  They won't understand it."
       "What's not to understand?  You have the same needs, and wants as
any of them!  Why would they think you sexless?  And what about Picard?  I
thought I sensed something there."
       "Oh, that.  There was something there, once, but we're just friends
now."
       Duncan shook his head, smiling ruefully.  "Just friends.  God, how
I hate those words.  I can't even remember how many times I've said that,
when I didn't mean it.  It's as easy to lie to yourself with them as it is
to others."
       She shook her head.  "He's more than half in love with Beverly
Crusher.  I won't come between them, it wouldn't be fair.  What's past is
past."
       "But what's fair to you?"
       She turned finally, and looked at him evenly.  "You are."
       He returned her gaze, head tipped slightly to one side as he
assessed her words.  "I see."
       She scowled, sensing his withdrawal.  "What do you see?"
       "More than you think I do.  I may not be psychic, Guinan, but I've
a lot of experience with human nature.  You think I'm fair for you because
I'll be gone soon."
       She felt a shock of recognition as he spoke.  He was right.  But
did it have to be that way?  She chose her words carefully.
       "It's true you'll be leaving soon, and I won't be going with you.
We both know that.  But now that we know about each other, there's no
reason why we can't... keep in touch, is there?"
       He shook his head, looking intrigued.  "No, there's not."
       "You'll know where I am, I'll know where you are; and I'll be there
if you need me."
       "What of your needs?"
       She smiled.  "It works both ways, right?"
       He nodded, slowly.  "If you want it so.  Guinan, I..."
       A chirp from the door-annunciator interrupted him, and he frowned.
"Just a minute, let me see who that is."
       He rolled out of bed, grabbed his pants and tugged them on as he
walked out of the room.  She sat up, listening intently.
       "Come."  Duncan's voice was matter of fact.
       She heard the hiss of the door opening, then Worf's earthquake-
rumble voice.
       "nuHpIn'a' MacLeod, we have practice, do we not?"
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