He had free run of her mansion now, including the extensive courtyards and, provided he told her in advance, was allowed access to outside for hours at a time.

In between excursions to the top gardens (to be alone), to the Great Hall (to run), to outside (to be alone, explore or run) and to the pool, PhaHks kept to his rooms.

He idled.

Slept (whenever the nightmares cooperated and left him alone), ate the boring food when he got hungry and coped with the periodic bouts of overwhelming depression.

And every day or so she would come to him and they would have sex.

Quick sex. Slow sex. Sometimes great sex.

He welcomed it. He had instigated it.

Not long ago in fact by an evening visit to her chamber. So powerful was the need, he'd been unable to get it out of his head.

All day. He thought he might go insane. And there was no one else so he'd payed Hellbitch a visit one evening and just plain offered himself up to her.

He'd read her right, she hadn't refused.

In fact, she'd nearly injured him. But she owned the complementary plumbing and his pussy choices consisted of one.

It had been so long since he'd experienced that kind of physical connection to someone; the give and take; the exchange of body fluids; the stresses and urges slaked in the taking of flesh.

She showed him things he didn't think his body could do. He even taught her a few tricks.

It made him feel good for a little while. Almost like being needed, in a way, again. He hadn't felt like that since...well...since before he could remember anything else.

Shit, he was pretty sure he must have fucked a vampire somewhere along the line (lots of former things having faded before this constructed reality), because looking down - or more often - looking up at Veexow's Dracula face didn't feel so freaky anymore.

Her yellow pallor, pointed ears, upswept eyebrows...

...Love in the Twilight Zone.

His groin had rediscovered sex and when his stomach found out it was through "Hellbitch", it quit heaving. Gave up.

Now, when her hot hands raked over his back or kneaded his naked sides, there was no fear. His dick was literally jumping for joy at every opportunity.

She'd show up, make her intent crystal clear by telling him to get undressed whether he felt like it or not. It never occurred to her to *ask*.

But usually he felt like it.

Somewhere in the caverns of his feelings, he still hated her, but the sex made him forget that for a while.

Her sexual appetites were frequent and often rough, but, occasionally, when she appeared, she bore an offering of gentleness.

It was the gentleness part he mostly looked forward to. It spun the illusion of being at the center of someone's universe for a few hours.

And screwing made some of his horribly lonely nights, or days as the case often was, disappear. And, after a couple hours of her vigorous bump and grind, he'd sleep like a baby.

All he had to fork over, besides his genitalia, were a few healing wounds where she sometimes lost control and bit him.

But what's a few tooth marks between friends?

It was a prize deal.

Other than a good run, a good fuck was the thing he did second most often these days.

Sex and him had always been pals. That is, his dick and his right hand. Now he had the ongoing real thing for a change. As much milking as he wanted and real bondage too.

But he would give it up if it meant getting out of there.

He would give up seeing and speaking.

If it meant going home, he would cut off his own penis.

*

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing."

"You are constantly closed to me."

"Spelunking."

"What?"

"Spelunking, that's what I was thinking about."

"And what does "spul-un-king" mean?"

"Once I went on vacation to Peru and went cave exploring - spelunking."

"Why?"

Phahks frowned, it seemed a retarded question. "Because I'd never done it before."

"And what did you find in these caves?"

"Guano mostly. Bat shit. It reeks like you wouldn't believe. Everything was coated in it."

"So you went on a retreat to view foul-smelling dung?" She was pleased to see her attempt at humor (a human characteristic with which she still had difficulties, either using or understanding), spark a small smile from him.

"I went because I wanted to learn something new. I wanted to see something I'd never seen before."

"Did you?"

"Nothing I couldn't have read about in a book I guess, except for the smell."

Veexow touched his face as they lay on their sides facing each other.

Phahks did not return the gesture but left his hands tucked beneath the pillow.

The sex had been, as usual, insisted upon by her, and ardent and fatiguing. But he hadn't refused it on that account.

As much as he thought he hated her, his mouth had slid across hers. As much as he thought he wanted her to die, his hands had groped and clutched.

Even as his mind remembered her cruelties, he had pumped her furiously, wanting to drive his cock straight through her like a stake.

Nail her to the floor.

Now he just wanted to pass out.

But she wanted to "talk", so of course...

PhaHks kept his jaw clenched and spoke through his teeth. He wanted to keep it together. Wanted control. Control!

He was tired, and long, thought-free sleep was all he craved. That was all.

Jesus, that was all! For fuck sakes, was it too goddamn much to ask?!

If he shouted, Veexow would strike and he really didn't feel like losing a back tooth tonight.

Didn't much fancy the notion of Doctor mother fucking "Rheng-ele" standing over him with his metal tray of Nazi-probes!

"Is that what you feel? PhaHks? Is this a cave of awful things you would have preferred seeing only in a book?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know your feelings, I want to understand you."

"No, you don't."

She sighed at his customary sidestepping. "You share nothing with me, PhaHks-"

"Is that a fact? I seem to remember just sharing my dick with you."

Veexow pursed her lips. He often did this post sex. Trying, through words, to turn their lovemaking into something ugly.

"But nothing else. We make love and then you-"

"Is that what we've been doing?? I thought we were fucking. But, shit, if you say it's something else, then it's not my place to argue, is it?"

"PhaHks-"

"So, let me get this straight: draining me of semen gives you the right to suck out everything else. Do I pass?"

He watched her face. Had calculated his words to incite her anger and pride and sense of ownership.

"Don't cross the line, PhaHks."

Bingo!

"You want to hit me, don't you?" He said.

She stared, knew most of his games and how he protected himself. This thrust and parry was just one.

He continued, ""Express my feelings"?, "Tell you what I think"?"...

Crossed him arms and shifted restlessly, shimming back a foot. Widened the gap.

"...you want the truth, and when I fucking hand it over and you beat me for it."

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Veexow tried to grasp his hand but he wouldn't untuck it from the crook of his elbow.

"I don't *want* to do that. But you must start accepting things as they are, PhaHks. You must try and accept your life here."

His face flushed. From observation, Veexow knew it meant reined-in anger.

"No, I don't." He answered succinctly. "This isn't a life, it's a sentence. A home doesn't have bars behind the curtains or a Warden who fucks the prisoner when the lights go out..."

The anger found release in his voice.

"...I don't care if you beat me or break my neck, I don't HAVE to accept anything."

He turned his back to her and went to sleep.

**

Veexow received the communication into her hand. Read it. Retrieving something out of her cabinet, she gripped it in her fist and went directly to PhaHks' rooms.

"Take this."

PhaHks looked at the orange pill she held out imploringly. Registered the anxiety on her face and in her posture.

Without moving to accept the pill, "What's going on?"

Veexow stood ridged, arm outstretched. Her eyes were frightened. "We have to leave." was all she offered.

Not enough for him. "What are you talking about?"

He stood with his hands on his hips, an attitude he adopted frequently. When he sensed he was being lied to. When his instincts told him to question everything. He did it when he became the interrogator.

Veexow came forward, pressed the mystery pill into his palm and closed his hand over it. The uncharacteristic gesture and the alarm behind her eyes startled him.

"What is it? Tell me?" It was a demand.

"Please! Can't you just once do ask I ask without questioning it? We have to leave as soon as possible. Immediately."

PhaHks took her elbow in his other hand.

It was a rare occurrence. He never voluntarily touched her unless it was in the rush of sex. "Just tell me what is happening and I'll swallow the goddamn pill."

In trusting her, she realized it was as far as he would go.

"There is a small force on its way here, to take me to the Capital. And you."

PhaHks knew that was not a good thing without really knowing all the reasons why. Exactly.

But if it scared her this much, and she was trying to protect him, then he'd take fucking drug. "What's it going to do to me?"

"Just put you into a deep sleep. It will..."

Veexow looked at his rainbow irises and pink flush. Chin stubble. Caught his scent. "...keep you safe."

He moved to swallow the pill but a thought stopped him. "Are you...letting me go?" A tiny hope.

Veexow closed her eyes and then opened them again, looking at him miserably. "I am taking you somewhere where you'll be safe. Where we won't have to worry anymore. Where we can live peacefully."

She could see PhaHks expression harden at her word usage. The idea of "living peacefully" anywhere in her world seemed to be beyond the human's grasp. But it was his destiny. Perhaps he knew that.

If so, he hated her for it.

He swallowed the pill.

*

Veexow did not know who had betrayed her. None of the family servants and she would stake her life on that. Generations of them had been born and raised in her very house. Loyalty was their seal.

But she had enemies she supposed. Could think of no particular names.

Evidence said she did have them though. The evidence of the intercepted communique' that Rhengar - praise him! - had brought to her attention. They now had to flee.

A picture of her father's disapproving face appeared before her eyes, but she quickly banished it.

She was her fathers daughter. Same line of jaw and same determination when it was set.

Choose a path and do not deviate.

Make a choice. No regrets.

On one of her fist missions as an Imperial Fleet Commander, she had followed that axiom.

< But they had not responded to her attempts at communications. Once, twice, three times she had given them the opportunity to explain themselves and they had remained silent.

Her own vessel, though not a Bird of Prey, easily outclassed the Klingon ship's weapons.

Then she had made one flying pass. Then another as a final warning. Then she had performed an un- common action for a Romulan ship, and had fired a warning shot over the other vessels bow.

The Klingon ship had remained silent but armed and ready to fire.

So she had given the order to fire upon it, not to destroy but to cripple.

And cripple it she had.

The final count was an unrepairable hulk left to drift and twenty-one, including the captain, of the twenty-nine aboard dead.

Seven officers and one small child, who had all been delivered to the nearest Klingon outpost.

The scout ship should have responded.

But their communications had gone down prior to their encounter with the Bird of Prey.

A mistake but an honest one.>>

Sometimes it haunted her.

But, choice made.

No regrets.

***

--------------------------------------------------------------------- PhaHks Part III

ON "KOL'KEK". YEARS FOUR THROUGH EIGHT.

"When are we going back?"

PhaHks demanded of Veexow as soon as she stepped foot into his rooms.

Four years and a month together on her world.

Now here they were, having just arrived at Kol'keK and he still spoke of "going back", "going home". He was not, she knew, really referring to Romulus. They were both talented pretenders.

Rubbing his face, "I've been stuck in this room for days, I can't stand being cooped up." When she didn't answer his question.

"PhaHks, be patient."

*Fucking story of my life*. "You keep saying that." His accusation being that she asked it of him a lot but rarely told him why.

Veexow came and took his hand, leading him to the exit. "Come. You need to eat. Then we will speak."

She led through the door that until that moment he had been forbidden to pass.

Then down one darkened corridor after another. Through a large, wider chamber, the walls decorated with weapons that seemed to consist of blades.

Lethal looking, rip-you-wide-open-with-one-swipe blades. Some had the tell-tale dark crust of old blood still on them. Someone had forgotten to wipe.

He thought it was stupid of her to show him such handy items. If he could get his hands on them...

As though reading his mind, she said: "All those implements are permanently fastened in place."

Bitch.

"What are these? Souvenirs?" Who would he have used them on anyway?

Single blades, double blades, serrated blades, lots and lots of blades....he swallowed, trying not to think of what had used them to disembowel who.

When he was nervous, Veexow knew he often used his acerbic wit to hide it so ignored his comment.

He looked around curiously as they entered a softly lit, cheerier room that had one long, heavily food-laden table...

...Plates!

PhaHks sat near Veexow and examined the utensil before him. A shallow, normal looking earthenware bowl.

The trays of food were another matter. They looked scarier than the halls of Jack the Ripper specials through which they'd just traveled.

PhaHks examined, not too closely, one bowl that held something moving. Little teeny black tentacles, dozens of them, clawed the air.

"Cooks day off?" he remarked.

"It is supposed to be eaten live." Veexow explained, not having completely fathomed his humor.

He nodded.

No EFF-ing way was he eating dinner tonite.

Instead he looked around the room.

With the exception of dinner, the room was pleasant enough.

Great colorful curtains hung ceiling to floor, carvings of nothing he recognized filled the corners. Low, flickering lanterns (bonafide flames) cast soft fire-glow over their table and them.

The room had a comfortably used look and feel to it. Its presentation was very...mediaeval.

...Sorcerers have passed this way.

He glanced at Veexow who had, during his distraction with their surroundings, chosen a few dishes for herself and piled her own plate high.

A yellow glow lit tiny fires in her black eyes. Her aristocratic nose cast a long shadow over her high cheekbones. Black and grey streaked hair brushed back in a severe and unflattering style, she looked like a music video gothic. Or maybe...

...In Veexow's alien sternness, PhaHks had yet to find feminine beauty. But now, in the warm dance of light across her stone carved features, a kind of old world esthetic emerged and suddenly her face was the face on the bow of a ship, or a witch un-justly condemned to burn. He played with it absently for a moment.

He could see her wrapped in a royal rug, being secretly ferreted into the bedroom chambers of Anthony -

- Shaking his head. Yeah. Right.

Phahks scrutinized all the dishes on the heavy table. Finding nothing that looked remotely palatable, he spoke instead.

"So where are we *now*?"

Veexow heard the defeat.

"We will not be here for long, PhaHks." She tried to sound more assured than she felt. "Here." She passed him a plate of his old standby. "I had my friend's servant fix this for you. I told him you would be unable to eat most of this food."

"Try *all* of it. And I'm unWILLing."

She raised an annoyed eyebrow. He never passed by an opportunity to assert his independence. "I don't know when we will be able to go home."

PhaHks had never personally referred to her large prison house as home.

"But," she continued, "Kol has kindly invited us here to stay as long as required."

PhaHks rubbed his eyes, suddenly they were burning with fatigue. He didn't remember sleeping badly lately. "Kol? That's your friend?"

"A very old and trusted friend. You will be safe here. You will meet him tomorrow."

Thought of the death-knives. "Can't wait." He closed his eyes. Nibbled his vegetable squares. Chewed a protein cake.

She recognized the sarcasm. "Kol is not one to be crossed, PhaHks. He and I, we are old...companions. You *will* show him respect."

Like I have a choice? And skipped out on the rest of her words and her attempt to counsel him. It all came down to his being where he didn't want to be.

"Surprise!", she, in effect, was saying. "You'll get used to it. You're safe here. Not FREE, of course, but fed, watered, fucked and tucked in every night."

Nothing stayed the same long enough to get comfortable. Not that he was really at all *comfortable*, anyway. But nothing ever got beyond feeling abnormal because whenever he closed his eyes too long on the unfolding of his life, Hellbitch changed the reel.

Veexow was still talking. "...but you will be staying in my chambers for as long as we are here."

That he heard and stopped chewing for a second. Shit. "What the hell for?! Why can't I just stay where I was?"

"I didn't ask why, that is the way Kol wants it. He may be old and befuddled but we are guests."

No goddam privacy. No fucking time alone to think.

And no way now to sneak out and explore the place and maybe find a permanent exit.

She'd probably anticipated that he'd try it, the buddy-system actually being HER idea.

Lying bitch. Time to stick a needle in her.

"He probably knows you're humping me like a rabbit." Didn't blink. Waited...

Veexow stared coldly. "I don't care what he knows or what he thinks he knows. If Kol says we should share a compartment at night, then we will. He will have his reasons. He may be a Klingon but he's no fool."

PhaHks didn't bother asking her to define exactly what a "cling-un" was.

"And I have not heard you protesting our mutuals, PhaHks," her voice cold, "be careful what you say to me."

There. Pay back. He'd pissed her off. It wasn't much, but it made him feel a bit better after her unsolicited rearrangement of his downtime.

He wanted to comment that her attentions "usually relieved his boredom" but decided not to press his luck. His jaw was still sore from the two blows she'd already delivered recently.

Sometimes he just couldn't hold back and had to let fly what he was thinking. And, equally, she just had to haul back and make it plain what she thought of what he had let fly. For every action, an opposite and equal reaction.

Universal truths.

"I'm tired." He muttered and he was still feeling the effects of the drugs she'd made him eat.

One pill and a brand new set of furniture. He was so tired.

But she was right, he did enjoy the sex. Dysfunctional to the last.

"I'll summon Rhengar. You don't know where to go."

"I'll remember." he said, barely managing to keep his voice level.

She considered. "Very well. Through that door, down three archways, left, down to the end, right, door at the end."

He rose to leave.

"And PhaHks. I expect you to be there when I arrive."

He wanted to hit something. "I. *said*," emphasizing each word as if to an imbecile, "I. was. tired." He pushed his chair back, rather too harshly, it skidded and almost tipped over.

Veexow watched him storm away. She knew he was angry and wanted to go off and seethe for a while. And she knew he was furious at the sleeping arrangements.

Yes, Kol had mentioned the idea, not insisted, only mentioned. But Veexow had taken one look at Kol's sober expression and had made the decision herself. PhaHks must be prevented from taking night excursions, that much was true. But her reasons were less selfish than he supposed.

It was merely precautionary.

Kol had said nothing except in his tone, so the insurance of having PhaHks stay in her quarters was probably not necessary.

But she wanted him safe.

"Veexow." A rumbling, slightly slurred baritone caressed her ears.

She turned to find her old friend and host grinning at her from behind and rose to greet him. "Kol."

He was older, fatter, greyer and his breath smelled of yesterdays drink. But she kissed his lips, her heart remembering his youth.

They parted.

"You are as ravishing as ever, Veexow."

"And you as smooth of tongue as ever." She strolled to a side table and poured herself a small mug of his ever present ale. He was already holding one. "I see you still try to hide your head, Kol."

He frowned, it had always been a sore point with him. He'd been born with only two, tiny ridges, a throwback to the days before the last, great purge where after the ancient breed of Klingon had genetically emerged.

Kol had always brushed some of his great mat of hair over the top of his head from back to front, holding it there with a piece of family jewelry. After all these years, it suited him.

"And you still see fit to state the obvious, Veexow. You haven't changed."

"You would be disappointed if I did."

"Disillusioned." He smiled at her, baring sharpened teeth. "The old reliable things are still the best things."

Veexow chuckled. He had meant himself. "I am not here to be seduced, Kol. We will probably not be staying for long."

"And what have you got yourself into, Veexow?"

She turned, took a sip. "I thought it wise to vacate Romulus for the time being."

"You mean you didn't want to be caught holding your ill-gained booty."

The ale burned her throat. "My reasons-"

Kol walked away from her. "Your reasons, your reasons." Turned back. "Your *obsession*, Veexow. You always did have..." He leered, "...exotic appetites." Waved a hand to her. "You need not lie or make excuses, I heard your little one's comment. He is no fool either, obviously."

Kol slapped his own drink back in one swallow. "And I am not as befuddled as you seem to believe. You may keep him here, obviously, since I have invited you. I'm sure you still have access to all your family riches though I suppose the second chosen heir to your fathers land has moved in, now that you are among the Unwanted."

Veexow's face thundered. It was a term the Upperclass used to describe those outside the Law. Criminals.

He saw her and changed the subject a bit. "But what will you do with him?"

She frowned. "What do you mean, what will I DO with him?"

Kol eased his bulk into the chair she had vacated moments before. "I mean, what will you do with him? He's human. He's not suppose to be alive, you're breaking your own Law in keeping him so: What. Will. You. Do. With. Him?"

She straightened. "I will keep him-"

"-Keep him?? Keep him where? Under your pillow?"

"I was going to say, I will keep him safe!"

"Oh, I see." He nodded in exaggerated comprehension. "And how will you do that?"

Veexow stepped up to Kol. Stood over him.

It fazed him not at all.

"Why don't you just say what is on your mind, Kol, and cease your ridiculous comedies?"

"The human will be discovered and he will be killed. Is that plain enough?"

"He will not be if..."

"IF what? If you convince all your servants, all *my* servants, if you pay enough over, that they will ignore the risk to their lives and honor and look away? Do you think we all can be bought, Veexow?"

"You wouldn't-"

"No. No, *I* wouldn't, I have no loyalty to Romulus! But someone else. You've always loved power, Veexow. In our lifetime, I've watched you wield it like a Romulan saber. You were glorious. But to some, honor is before power and eventually, somewhere, sometime, someone will tell the story of your little human to the right Romulan and your PhaHks will die."

Veexow had forgotten how this Klingon used words. Most Klingons - warriors - acted, then spoke. Kol was a Sacrementarian, he had always spoken (usually a great deal) and rarely, if ever, acted.

"I will not allow that to happen."

Kol raised himself up. Sighed. "You haven't asked little PhaHks whether or not HE wants to be here, I assume."

Veexow did not know how Kol knew the circumstances of her discovery of PhaHks. "He would have died."

"So, instead you rescue him out of one cage and put him in another. Human's, Veexow,.." He was pouring himself another drink. "...do not do well in captivity." He searched the table top for his favorite spice and added a generous pinch.

"He has adapted."

"That's because he hasn't yet figured out how to escape. Or doesn't have the courage or the will to cut his own throat. But if you think he has stopped thinking about either, you are more fool than I."

"Of course I know he wants to leave. But I know what he does not and that there IS no escape for him."

"None that you would ever divulge, no. But he, of course, doesn't know that."

"If this is your concern over my ability to control him, you can relax. PhaHks obeys me."

"Oh, does he? Just like that therapist of yours who still follows you around, prostrating himself like a Ferengi."

"Rhengar? Of course. He is a loyal and dedicated servant."

"And hopelessly in love with his Commander, not that I blame him. I doubt, however, he realizes how truly hopeless it is. But then he is still young."

"Rhengar is an exceptional physician. But he and I have nothing in common."

"Yes, different casts. The fabulously wealthy and powerful verses the hand to mouth intellectual and subservient. Nothing what-so-ever in common. But what do you really know about him?"

Veexow was curious now. "How do you mean?"

"He's served you for decades and yet did you know that he is the son of a Judgement Rebellist?"

At her surprise, "No, I can see you did not." He continued. "Let me enlighten you. Rhengar's family were against the Extermination and campaigned against it. They lost their entire estate doing so. He would have been wealthy, famous perhaps had it not been for the unfortunate political choices of his parents. But, as it is, he grew up poor learning a trade and had to take a post."

"Is there a point to all this?"

"Only that you are often blind to what is right in front of you, Veexow. Why do you think Rhengar applied for the post aboard your ship as therapist? It's because he fell in love with you on first seeing that glorious beauty. He could have got on at some prestigious medical facility on the home world and worked his way to riches. But instead he stays with you earning a pittance and saying "Yes, M'Lady" all day long."

"Rhengar is young!" Said as if that would explained it all.

"So is your human."

"That's different. Where PhaHks is concerned, age is irrelevant. He is already an adult. Practically middle aged. It is unlikely he will see even his hundredth year."

"Gratifying to know you do realize that. Does he know he'll be spending the rest of those years in a cushioned cage in this century with you as his owner?"

"Of course he doesn't." She spat. "He would never be able to accept the truth! His mind-"

"His mind is not the weak vessel you make it out to be. I suspect that you underestimate PhaHks. I could hear the Warrior in his voice myself."

"Oh!..." Dismissing his words with a peeved head shake. "You and your "Warrior Voice"!"

"I know better than you his spirit and that from hearing only a few words."

"Is this the Cleric I hear? Is that your spiritual belief?" she mocked.

"Ex," he raised a finger for emphasis, "EX-Cleric. But I am still a priest and I still have the abilities of the calling. The ability to read The Voice and understand souls being just two."

"And what is my voice saying to you right now?" She mused.

"Your *soul* is telling me that you have finally found something that you love more than yourself."

"Incorrect. What a philosopher you are."

"And what a liar YOU are. With all of your other lovers over the decades, including me - curse my weak loins and foolish old heart -!, I don't think you have ever achieved that particular state until now. THIS," he raised his mug, "is an historic day." And swallowed the dregs.

"Now I see why I gave up on you years ago, Kol. You. Are. TALK."

Veexow shut-up at his fallen expression. She had actually hurt him with that. But the words were said and once said, words were as easily gathered back as feathers in a storm-wind. Quickly, "Forgive me, Kol. I am on edge."

Kol's good humor, to her benefit, returned immediately. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for, Veexow. When I fell under your Romulan wiles, I was not drunk THAT day." His voice softened, reminiscing, "But, somehow, after you, the Chronicles of Kahless no longer fulfilled me."

Kol seemed to sag a little, but then raised his mug, having made a decision. "More wine!"

"Appears to me you have had enough."

Ignoring her, "Not nearly. I still have to get through this night," leered back at her, "*alone*. Unless you are inclined to remedy that?"

"We were in love once, Kol, and it was a long time ago."

"I was in love. YOU were out to conqour. And you succeeded for here I am."

"You love your life, here. No Klingon Duty, no one to tell you what to do, when to drink. You're even richer than me, I hear."

"Tell me, Veexow..."

Her good mood had returned somewhat. "Yes?"

"Is he...*tender*?"

Veexow stopped her pacing in circles, stared at Kol. "What?"

"I asked you if he is tender?"

"You're drunk, Kol." And he was rambling like a drunk. He was what she had said to him before, what she had heard over the years from other Klingons: <"Kol is TALK. TALK. TALK."> It was not meant to be flattering.

"If so, I might even try him myself."

She slammed her mug down on the table. Little droplets landed on the leftover dinners. "Gods! And to think you used to be a priest!"

Kol roared at the effect his words had produced in her. And he *was* drunk. "Ohhhh, you are beautiful when you're furious, Veexoooow."

Her anger abated quickly. Kol was up to his old flirtations as always. It was a very old game they played.

She leaned in closely, so close that her breath fell on his lips but did not touch him. "You are a frustrating old Klingon, Kol."

Kol bared his teeth.

But Veexow straightened up. "I am going to sleep now."

He sighed and called after her. "So, now I have to compete with a weakling human? It is humiliating, Veexow. Will you dishonor me? Your old "tender"?"

His soft laughter followed her down the corridor.

Both knew the other had enjoyed it.

-----------------------------------------