CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“Honesty is such a lonely word…

everyone is so untrue.

“Honesty is hardly ever heard…

and mostly what I need from you.”

- Billy Joel

“We do have to talk about this,” Vaerth Parihn announced.

They had spent a joyful, almost exuberant two days and nights together, and both were keenly aware that it was, perhaps, the happiest either had ever been. But Parihn was unwilling to further burden him with any uncertainty about what had occurred; after the life she'd led, her respect for the undiluted truth was too strong—as was her love for him.

“You need to know why I slept with Jerrell… and how it made me feel.”

He considered that.

“Well… I’m willing to put it behind us without discussing it, but won't deny the facts: Of course I want to know… and don't want to know.”

“I understand,” she answered. “But please let me.”

He nodded stiffly.

Before her nerve could fail her, Parihn commenced.

“Jerrell's a former spymaster for the Orion Syndicate… and I knew he'd have intelligence on what had become of Aedra; he and Xorc were my only chance of finding her. And…”

"And?" he prodded.

“And he gave me the data—eventually.”

“I'm… not sure I comprehend what you're implying,” Mantovanni finally stated.

His tone and visage were doubtful—whether of Parihn, her actions as he perceived them, her interpretation of the situation, or some combination, she wasn't certain.

“Are you saying,” he asked, “that you slept with him out of… gratitude for the information?”

Now, she hesitated, dreading his reaction on a myriad of levels. After a moment, Parihn took a deep breath, and exhaled her frustrated, resigned admission.

“No, Cicero… I'm saying I had to sleep with him in exchange for the information.”

She steeled herself for the storm.

A veritable cavalcade of emotions paraded across his face: Momentary incomprehension; shocked realization; outrage; and, instead of the blind fury she'd expected, a cold resolve that stole over his features… and chilled her.

Parihn knew what he'd say next.

“I'll kill him.”

She understood that if he were allowed to savor that intent for any length of time, there'd be no stopping him… and so, acted.

“No,” she insisted, “you won't. He's not worth it. Believe me, I almost did it myself; but I had no desire to add a decade at a penal colony to a single night of bondage.

“And I won't permit you to do it, either.”

She'd taken the wrong tact. His already hooded gaze intensified.

“If there's one thing we can take from this, Parihn, it's that neither of us makes personal decisions for the other… so don't presume to tell me what you will or will not 'permit' me to do.”

From the first moment she'd known him, when he'd cradled her in his arms aboard the Klingon ship and their minds had briefly touched, Parihn had known that the self-control her lover had learned on Vulcan was reinforced by his indomitable will. His emotions, his… passions… roiled beneath a carefully impassive exterior—a molten core of him he took tremendous pains to conceal, or at least to control.

Without that incredible determination reinforcing his rationality, his less sanguine qualities boiled towards the surface… and, right now, threatened to burst forth with disastrous consequences for them all.

Parihn set herself in front of him, barring his path and purpose, at least symbolically; she caught his angry eyes, which had seemed to darken from coal black to jet, with her own.

“I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to forbid you.

“But I have the right to ask you… and I’m doing that now. Hurting him… killing him… will do far more harm than good.”

“He should be put down like they used to do with a rabid dog,” Mantovanni gritted. “Why are you defending him?”

Parihn perceived one source of his upset: The frustration and worry that perhaps she'd grown somehow more emotionally attached to Jerrell because of closeness derived from that night. Though it wasn't at all the case, the thought was understandable; the intimacy of sex was an unpredictable thing, at times, for certain people.

“My dearest friend… my heart… I'm not defending him.”

She murmured, “I'm protecting you.

“I can't lose you to something like this—not when we've just found each other again. If you believe I love you, and you truly love me, you'll let me handle this. I don't want to beg you… I have my pride, too…

“…but I'll do it if you're stubborn.”

Mantovanni struggled with it… but inclined his head, at last.

“All right… for you…”

“For us,” she amended.

“'For us,'“ he acceded, smiling briefly, “I concede your right to dispose of this as you see fit.”

Then that glower returned.

“And, no, I don't give a damn how presumptuous and overbearing that sounds.”

Parihn smiled; she comprehended, as few could, how difficult that had been for him—how he ached to strangle Jerrell with his bare hands—and could empathize; after all, she herself still wanted to kill him. Cicero's restraint and surrender in the face of his hurt and fury made her love him all the more.

“Thank you.

“Now… concerning the night I spent with him…”

“Do I really want to hear this?” Mantovanni interjected; the timbre of his voice was dry and amused—with perhaps a hint of concern.

She knew this was not the moment for humor in reply.

“I think it needs to be said.”

Then, in open, bold defiance of both their uncertainties, she gave an account of everything that had happened from the moment of her arrival at Way Station 242, until she'd seen him again. Parihn, despite her trepidation, omitted almost nothing—not even graphic, intimate details, difficult though relating them was. She was even more forthcoming than she’d been with Hatshepsut… thus, it was a more than comprehensive enough narrative to give him a completely accurate picture and understanding of what she'd experienced and felt—in bed and out.

When at last she finished, he was silent for long minutes… and Parihn found herself feeling the need to add something.

“I know I didn't technically do anything wrong, insofar as infidelity is concerned…

“…but I hope you can forgive me, anyway. I know it caused you a great deal of anguish. I won't disrespect your feelings by pretending to know just how much.”

His reaction to that was as wonderfully surprising to her as any she'd ever gotten from him.

Cicero arched a brow, smiled ever so slightly, and assured her, “There's really nothing for me to forgive. In my opinion, you did what you had to do—insofar as you understood the situation, that is. While I'm not at all pleased that the devious little son-of-a-bitch got what he wanted, at least in part, I don't see where you thought there were any options.

“So relax. I'm really not that angry—with you. Still a little hurt, as anyone would be… but I'll get over it.

“I mean, what's there for me to resent, Parihn? He had a night.

“I have you.”

She was determined not to cry, and managed, with an effort, to turn the sudden rush of emotion into a tear-tinged laugh of affection and relief, as he held her.

“Three things, though,” he appended, even as he set her gently back so they were face-to-face.

“One… don't ever do anything like that again… put yourself in that position… pun intended.” He regarded her significantly, and she actually blushed. Afterward, for a moment, he sounded like her commanding officer—her teacher—again.

“You let a myriad of poor motivations—despair over and fear for Aedra, upset with our situation, attachments to your previous life, and a devaluation of yourself in relation to others—guide your decisions far too much, in my eyes. Come to your friends, the people who care about you, instead of charging off on your own. Next time, let us help… without having to chase you down, that is.”

What he'd said disturbed her; perhaps he was right, and both her frustration at him for determinedly avoiding the consequences of their night together months ago, and, especially, Parihn's own past, had played more of a part in this than she'd realized… or had wanted to believe. Maybe, on some level, a small part of her—a part that had never truly healed—had still thought sex all she had to offer.

He saw her beginning to fret, and headed it off.

“Hey…” he reassured her, “…don't obsess. We all think we're alone sometimes. I'm a starship captain. Or, rather, I was,” he added dryly. “Trust me, I know quite a bit about being an island, Parihn… but that's an illusion—an image. I needed all of you to prop me up and make me what everyone thought I was. In some ways, I simply filled the center seat, and let my crew make me look competent.”

He clasped her hands in his own.

“I know you've lost some self-respect, and I haven't the power to return it.

“But you can take it back... and I know you eventually will.”

The smile she gave him was both grateful, and loving.

“Two,” he continued. “As far as your having taken pleasure from the sex… I'm sure if I’d had to spend an evening with an attractive woman I didn't love, or even much like, I'd still somehow manage to get a small degree of satisfaction from it.”

She smirked at him.

“Of course you would. You're a man. It's not the same. Men are…” she paused.

“…pathetic and feeble when it comes to such things?” he finished.

Parihn chuckled.

“You said it… not me.”

Then her expression soured again.

“But I'm still upset that I actually enjoyed it. Despite what Hatshepsut told me, and what I know is true about my biology, it is frustrating. I can't even abide the man most of the time.” Her agitation was palpable.

“Can you understand why… how much that upsets me?”

His grin was wry and a bit reproving.

“Oh, I can. Believe me, I'm a little aggravated, too; I am male, after all. Of course I don't want to think of you experiencing those sensations with another man.

"But, whether or not either of us like it, it's comprehensible… and, considering the facts, Parihn, not that surprising. Think about how many times you did just that years ago when you didn't even know the other person. Your instincts simply took over, back then... and though you're stronger and more determined to make your own choices, now, you're not perfect. No one is.

“He contributed to your freedom, is attractive, obviously desired an encounter... and used some effective, if reprehensible, tactics to make certain it happened. Even you're probably not totally immune to being wanted that way; it's very seductive.

"But it’s not like you threw yourself at him when you escaped the Orions, or went looking for him a few years later, to have him scratch your itch.”

She scoffed, “Please.”

He chuckled at her emphatic disdain.

“I mean, he was focused on making you feel good, and you couldn't avoid it, like you obviously wanted to do. I think just about anyone exposed to ardent, skillful stimulation would eventually respond to it in some degree. And, come to think of it, if you happened to have some fun with Jerrell, even forgot yourself and, as you said, contributed to what was happening a bit… it simply means you’re a healthy woman with strong drives, Parihn—not a whore. You couldn't be on your guard the whole night.

“And yet you would have walked away if you thought you could. That bespeaks your true feelings. Don't forget that.”

Parihn folded her arms.

“Hatshepsut said something similar. All that makes logical sense. I'm still irritated… but it makes sense.”

Another thought occurred to her, and she added, “And I hope you don't think I slept with Jerrell to get back at you in some fashion… or because I secretly wanted to do it, when the opportunity presented itself—like you said so colorfully, to 'scratch' my 'itch.' I didn't. I’d still take it back, if I could without harming Aedra.”

Mantovanni shook his head.

“Not at all, on either score. It's not your way. If you'd been truly interested in that, you would have propositioned him, made him very happy, and gotten your information in that fashion—which, I have to admit, is until a few minutes ago what I thought you might have done. I'd pretty much reconciled myself to assuming that was the case, and accepting it, a few days ago—not without some difficulty. I preferred to think you'd done what you had to do as a result of extreme stress and circumstance, and not because you wanted him, or worse, felt…”

“…love?” Parihn finished. “Even affection? No. Not in the least.

“I understand. It hurt you less to think I'd given him my body but not my heart—though that was bad enough, I know. I'm glad I explained the circumstances behind what actually happened, instead of leaving you to wonder.”

A grimace presaged her next observation.

“I'm just grateful you didn't burst in on us during, Cicero, or found out then why I was doing it. I don’t know if you could have handled that.”

He frowned.

“I prefer to think you and I would have eventually reconciled, cara mia… assuming you'd have waited for me until I got out of prison.”

She knew he wasn't joking.

“Daros saw Aedra that way—admittedly, doing far more than what I did with Jerrell—and he doesn’t seem able to get past it. I still wouldn't want you to see some of the things I've taken part in with others—things I’m ashamed I did, not because they’re wrong or perverse, but because I surrendered myself in part to both sensation and servitude.”

Mildly, he said, “I'm not Daros… you're not Aedra… and beating yourself up for a life you were forced to live is silly. You know that. If your sole consolation in a mostly miserable existence was finding physical release along the way, I sure as hell won’t condemn you for it. The idea that you should have somehow ‘grinned and borne it’ to maintain your virtue for almost a decade is so preposterous I don’t even feel the need to address it.”

He then regarded her with a strangely lopsided grin. “And despite your previous life, I might surprise you; you're not the only one who's had exotic sex in your past. I have no doubt you wouldn't want to see a video starring me and one of my old lovers, either.”

“Probably not,” she acknowledged, her voice small.

“And, I'm sure T'Vaar would agree, you now have a lot more control than you realize, Parihn. Your suppressants wore off completely in the middle of the night… and yet not only did you refrain from a lot of active participation, you bucked him off you, in the middle of a joining, the instant your commitment was complete. You didn't wait a few minutes more to see if you'd climax a final time—‘one for the road,’ as it were. You did what you thought you had to do… and promptly walked away. To me, that means you've got more restraint and willpower than a lot of us who don't have nearly the same instinctual urges. I mean, it seems like you've become, in many ways, the self-controlled person you always wanted to be—even without drugs.”

“I… I never thought of it that way.”

“Then it’s time for you to work on not castigating yourself any longer for the fact that you're an extremely sexual being, and simply make your own choices in that arena—choices that make you happy, that is.

“Little bird… I much prefer, given only those choices, that it was pleasant for you, rather than painful. You were obviously not a whole-hearted participant.”

“No, I wasn't.”

Parihn then smiled lasciviously.

“Not like last night,” she said, and reached for him with lustful intent.

He caught her hands.

“Oh, no… not yet. I'm not done, Lieutenant. Get a hold of yourself—rather than me, that is.”

She gave a throaty laugh, but surrendered—for the moment.

“Now, as a man who's rather proud about certain things…”

“You?” she teased. “Such a candid and surprising admission.”

“Quiet, woman,” he scolded.

“As I was saying: It's probably a sad comment on both me personally and my gender at large, as well as not being very logical, but I admit I'd probably have more of a problem with what you'd done if you thought he was better in bed than me, or if he'd more fully satisfied you.”

For a moment, Parihn gaped at him.

Then, she laughed… delighted, chastising, and a little exasperated all at once.

“That's so typically male… or at least alpha male.

“In a way, though, it's nice to know even you're not completely immune to these worries. After all, sometimes you’re so self-assured I want to smack you.” Unlike most women, though, who thought such things silly, she gave it her usual sober consideration.

“There's no question he's technically proficient, Cicero. I'm sure he knows and practices more 'parlor tricks' than you do; he used a few on me. I'd wager he's made a rather leisurely series of studies in the science of lovemaking—even as I had to do, far more extensively, in my youth.

“But 'better'?

“No. Not even as good.

“There's an immense difference between working a woman—hitting some of the good spots… pushing the right buttons—and making love to her… being there with her, as opposed to either putting it to her or getting something from her. Jerrell does those last two rather well… the 'ins and outs,' to be vulgar, were just fine.

“As far as being a real partner goes, though… I don't know that he's capable of it.

“Yes, I enjoyed the sex, as far as it went. He, as you humans say so metaphorically, 'got me off.' That fact has to do with his technical skill, my inclinations, and simple mechanics—not in that order, either."

Parihn then fervently stressed, “But there was nothing extraordinary or memorable about it, even physically. It was soulless, Cicero. I'm convinced Jerrell wanted to fuck me—to make me come—just so he could say he had.

“I think even he's begun to realize that, now.

“I don't really believe in quantifying things, like it's a damned contest, but I know your feelings have been hurt, so…

“…I greatly prefer your body… I definitely more appreciate your generous endowment, which I know you men strangely take pride in as if you built the little thing yourselves…

“…but mostly, I savor your passion.” She took his hand. “I know you love me when you touch me. I just know. I've never experienced that before.

“It's exhilarating.

“There's good sex, like I had with Jerrell… and sex that's so incredible it makes you want to spend the rest of your life in bed—like I have with you. If you hadn't gotten up after our first night together, we might still be there.”

Shyly, she added, with a whisper, “Along with these last two nights, it was the most wonderful and pleasure-filled of my life.

“I'm a… technical expert, my love—far more so than Jerrell, or anyone else you'll probably ever meet, for that matter. I can make certain it's mechanically excellent with, and for, anyone.” She dryly added, “Just ask my last partner about that.”

“Thank you, no,” he replied… but smiled while so doing.

“Those things, however, are not what are most important to me, Cicero—as I'm sure you're aware. Believe me, when you've seen it all—and I have—the oddest things can turn you on.

“For your information, however…” She grinned knowingly. “…and to satisfy your pride—which is rather a generous endowment, as well, I note—you, unlike Jerrell, would be one of the mere handful of men I'd take to my bed even if I were simply looking for a sex partner, and no love were involved… not that I've ever wanted that in the least.

“You have all the tangible and intangible qualifications—in abundance.

“You may now puff out your chest, if you wish.”

To entertain her, he did just that, and she giggled.

“My hero.

“And before you begin obsessing over the fact that this other man knows a few more 'tactical maneuvers' than you… don't. We have a lifetime together, Cicero, if you want that. You, already, on just being you, make me far happier and more content than any woman has a right to be—even if nothing were to change between us in bed for the rest of our lives.

“And believe me, there are many things you already do for me much better than anyone I've ever known...

"…and that's because I love you.”

She flashed a discerning, provocative grin.

“But I know you well enough, my adorably silly man, to realize that you'll now want an extensive course from me in esoteric pleasuring techniques… since you can't stand the idea of someone being more accomplished than you at any aspect of something in which you take pride.”

Cicero gave her a look that was at once chagrined and genuinely relieved. She understood him far more instinctually than was at all comfortable… and he knew he'd have to get used to that.

She sighed... but the smile remained.

“I understand you're not quite reconciled to that role. But think about how much you've taught me. You're one of those who've helped me become the woman I always wanted to be, in the ways that truly matter. I'd like to think you could accept that I have things to teach you... and take as much joy in the learning as I guarantee I shall in the imparting.

“Besides, you're in Starfleet.” She leaned over and poked him in the chest. “That means you're highly trainable, Mantovanni, with a real urge to be the best. Thus, since I know you'll apply yourself, I'll make you an unparalleled expert in a short period of time.

"And I have no doubt you'll show me a few tricks, too. Knowing how you are in a fight, I bet you've invented a few moves of your own.

"In fact, I know you have." She grinned impudently at him, and made a gesture with her tongue that would have been obscene were they not lovers—an unabashed reminder of something he'd already learned she enjoyed quite a bit.

He rolled his eyes.

“So now I'm an acolyte,” he chuckled. “Wouldn't Sevek be amused?”

“An 'acolyte'? Not at all. Say, rather, prize pupil…

“…and talented enough to be given a full scholarship.”

Parihn was warming quite nicely to the analogy.

“The best part about this curriculum is that I'll never have to drag you into… class… now will I?”

He smiled.

“I daresay you won't.”

Mantovanni continued with the last of his nigh forgotten observations… or so she thought, for a moment.

“And three…”

Now, he reached for her.

“Yes?” Parihn asked… then, a few moments later, whispered, “Ohhh, yesss…” as he began to explore her with his hands, “…advanced placement is… ooohh... definitely in order.”

Finally, he announced, though he knew she was more than a bit distracted, “You have to promise, no matter how angry you are, never to kick me out of bed.”

As the moment grew more interesting, and intense, Parihn's inhibitions went the way of her clothes; she moaned softly, and whispered a heated guarantee.

“No danger of that.”

They lay together afterwards, temporarily sated, and Parihn took up the conversation again.

“Now it’s my turn to ask a question: What about you and Captain Donaldson?”

“Uh… what do you mean?”

Her expression was a little sad.

“Well… you’re still occasionally sleeping with her, right? That will be difficult for me.”

For the first time in days, he was taken aback.

“No, Parihn… I’m not ‘still occasionally sleeping with her.’

“Anyway, I don’t see how that’s applicable to what’s happened over the last few weeks. That situation is totally different.”

“You're right. It is.”

Then she explained how.

“I don't care for Jerrell much at all; the sex he extorted was good… and nothing more. You do love Captain Donaldson, or at least feel affection for her… and I'm willing to bet the sex between the two of you—the intensity of genuine feeling—has been a lot better than just 'good,' hasn't it?”

His mouth worked for a moment, but no words emerged. Her observations were dead on, and Mantovanni discovered he possessed no ready response.

“Now, I'm not a selfish woman, Cicero. I really don't begrudge you those nights with her—even if I would have preferred them to be nights with me. If we're talking about threats to our being together, though, Jerrell wasn't even a sensor ghost compared to this.”

He wondered aloud, “Those past times shouldn’t bother you, unless…”

My God… Erika was right.

“…unless you really were in love with me all these last few years.

“Parihn?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, after a moment to ponder, “but I think so. Maybe I just didn't understand what it was. Those emotions were new to me. T'Vaar, who knows the internal landscape of my mind better than anyone—even you, for now—tried once or twice to tell me that what I felt wasn't just simple attraction. I didn't get it, though… or, maybe, was frightened by it.

“I only came to know during that first night we spent together. I couldn't mistake what I felt for simple lust—though it served perfectly on that level, too.”

Then the greater issue reared itself again.

“About Erika, though…”

At first, Parihn stiffened slightly; then, before his eyes, she forced herself to relax.

“It’s hard for me, Cicero,” she told him. “See, I know you’ve loved other women, and in a way, still do… but I’ve never been in love with anyone other than you... and somehow know I never shall be. That scares me.”

She whispered, “What if you stop loving me?”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph… she really is worried about this, and is desperately trying to understand.

You ignorant, inconsiderate jerk… at least this thing with Jerrell played itself out over weeks. She’s been fighting this battle alone for months… and, on some level, maybe years—since the 13^th Fleet broke up.

“Cara mia… I can only explain the difference in my feelings with a cliché you’ve probably heard or read.” He took Parihn’s hand… and was as candid with her as she’d been with him.

“I do love Erika: She’s a close friend, a trusted confidante… and a real pain in the ass. Simple loneliness, and maybe even a little running from what I felt for you, was a lot of why she and I ended up in bed those times.

“But that's over, now.

“Parihn… I’m in love with you… and that’s not going to change.

“We’ll both just have to accept that we each have our own ghosts with whom the other person will have to wrestle at times… and be there to help as much as we can. I've had more loves… you've had more lovers.”

He knew just after saying it that the statement had provoked a reaction… and felt like a total heel when he realized the implications, which he had truly not meant.

Her expression grew wistful… her tone, gently chiding.

“You are the one of the first real lovers I’ve ever had… and now, the only lover I ever want.” The gaze she turned on him then was full of bitter candor.

“What I had back then—and three weeks ago—were customers.”

Then, she put it aside.

“I know what you meant, however... and even though Erika Donaldson’s no ghost, I’ve always liked her, and I’ll cope.

“Gods… I suppose as far as I’m concerned, in a way, at least you shared your bed with someone of whom I actually approve.”

Mantovanni blinked at her.

Women.

I just don’t understand.

But the way Parihn smiled at him, he knew he didn’t care.

After all, I’m in good company.

My entire gender seems to have the same problem.

Chapter Thirty-Six Interlude Nine