Our Little Secret

Posted on Thu Aug 3rd, 2023 @ 7:40am by Captain Reuben Gregnol (Mirror) & Evanna Belyaev

Mission: Mirror Mirror
Location: Captain's Quarters
Timeline: 2398
5648 words - 11.3 OF Standard Post Measure

It was not, Evanna had reflected at some point during the whole procedure, the first time she'd allowed vicious scuttlebutt to work in her favour. In fact, though her trajectory had shifted somewhat, one could almost argue she'd built at entire career by making ample use of other people's misconceptions. Sometimes it was the efficacy of complete fabrication, other times it was an embellishment of partial truths, but always it amounted to allowing the imagination of others to do the hard work in creating a feasible narrative. It was dreadfully convenient, even if she had to fight against the complacency that was far too great a temptation these days. They made it so easy.

There were very few innocuous reasons for why a Chief Science Officer would spend most of her evening for the past three nights inside the Captain's quarters, especially when he wasn't there himself, but ever since the attempt on his life, which key members of the crew had not forgotten had been preceded by a very cosy exchange on the dancefloor, there seemed to be a genuine acceptance that Belyaev belonged in Gregnol's private space. It probably wouldn't have worked had it been someone without the training and experience to project an air of unworried expectation but the lack of pushback had been so significant that Evanna had made a mental note to broach it with the man in question when he finally returned from negotiations. At the very least, she should have been under continual security pressure, even if he had specifically left instructions for her to be granted access. Someone had just tried to blow him up, along with the Empress and several other major players. More than that, she had been present at the time. Any decent precautions should have labelled her as a tertiary suspect for at least a little while yet, despite the fact that Gregnol himself was giving orders to the contrary. He was too good at his job, she decided. Nobody had the balls to second-guess him even when they probably should have.

A conversation for later.

For now, she had to admit being left in relative silence to finish up the final touches on her quiet little side project had made the task far more tolerable. When the Captain had first broached the topic of her office, and grilled her on the installation of third-party protocols that had apparently completely circumnavigated his entire security network, (a mounting theme, it seemed), Belyaev hadn't been surprised that the end result of those discussions had been an insistence on complete access. She had already given him what he needed to utilise her office space but tracking back and forth to the Science Department, an area of the ship Gregnol was so disinterested in that an entire artificial biome had been built under his nose within its walls, was likely to attracted unwanted attention, she'd granted him that much. Negotiation hadn't been as painful as he could have made it, literally and figuratively; in the end, he'd wanted to keep it between them anyway, which was perfectly fine because that was as much as Evanna was willing to divulge.

A lot of the work had gone into making it seem like nothing had changed at all. The workstation in what constituted his private study had been upgraded internally without too many external adjustments, and there had been several times during the installation where Evanna had cause to compare the ease of this process compared to how long it had taken to get her office to where she wanted it. Of course, that had been entirely covert, but she also had only been a measly Assistant Chief in a department that command didn't really give a damn about. Captain's privilege had given her a lot better equipment to work with right off the bat. Currently, she was sat behind the main desk, out of uniform because it helped to perpetuate the expectations around her presence there, flicking through several screens as she waited for several integrity checks to finish. One leg folded across the other and her hands wrapped around the warmth of a cup of black coffee, there had been time over the past few minutes to simply enjoy the view. The hiss of a door opening redirected every ounce of her attention except her gaze, instincts born from the understanding that overreaction gave too much away. As it happened, staring forward allowed her to catch a familiar reflection and, pressing the mug to her lips, she took a sip around the curl of a faint smile.

"I thought you weren't due back until the morning."

He raised an eyebrow at her just sitting there looking so casual. He had not seen her looking like that before and it was just as alluring as her in uniform or dressed up as he had made her for the Palace. "And I thought you were going to be asleep." He countered with a smirk as he entered the room and saw her at the desk. He slowly started to remove the armour of his uniform piece by piece as he moved across the empty space to her. Each item made a dull thud as it hit the marble floor but he was soon lighter and just wearing his uniform trousers and a tee that was sticking to him from sweat. He had not expected to come back but the negation and promises were all over with and left him to leave for his own bed and his own ship.

"I was close enough to completion with your security refit to push through." Unwinding her legs, Evanna slid forward to tap at the display in front of her and checked the timers she'd been watching. "You're about fifteen minutes too early for me to deliver upon arrival." She turned the chair around then, facing him with unabashed scrutiny as he slowly removed his layers. The intent was not meant to be salacious but the result was hardly objectionable, such that the faint curve of her lips over the next sip of coffee was entirely due to her own private thoughts about unexpected appearances. "Does an early arrival herald positive results?"

The man looked up from where he had left the final piece of armour and ran a hand through his hair to mess it up a bit and to decompress after speaking to the Empress for hours on end. “Positive indeed. We leave tomorrow.” He stated simply moving to stand behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “As long as it’s close to completion is all that matters.”

Turning back to her work hadn't been an attempt to grant him privacy, far closer to a persistent diligence that made it difficult for Belyaev to completely relax whilst still in the middle of a task. Their situation was tentative enough that predicting Gregnol's mood had become an almost fruitless exercise, an uncertainty that only added layers of meaning to his willingness to initiate physical contact. It wasn't quite enough to distract her but it did allow for a slight relaxation of her shoulders beneath his hands.

"I may have consumed my body weight in espresso but these final integrity checks will be enough to permit a guided tour."

“Want something stronger?” He asked with one final squeeze and bending to kiss her neck.

A woman of weaker resolve would have flinched at the ribbon of electricity that ran up Evanna's spine. It was enough that he had any capacity to surprise her, though she knew better than to draw attention to the fact that the past three days had apparently given him renewed perspective. Gazing straight ahead at the slowly winding down timer, a flash of humour caught a glint in the blonde's eye and her reflection sought his gaze. "I could be persuaded."

“Your wish is my command.” He said in standard. The man smirked and stood up straight again. He moved to the replicator ordering two large glasses of Betazoid nectar and returned with one for her and one for him. He took a sip and approved of the sweet burning taste. “The replicator chose a good year.” He decided.

He was in a good mood. Evanna wasn't crass enough to comment on it but she noted the improvement in his demeanour with a hint of affection that felt, if she was honest, a little alien. She had already come to terms with the fact that she had invested more in Reuben Gregnol than she afforded most people, had made that leap before he'd even known she existed by reshaping her entire career around aligning herself to his trajectory, but back then she hadn't expected to actually like the man. The nectar was overly sweet after the harshness of her coffee but she rode out the transition with only the slightest wince and then rose gracefully to spin the chair towards him. "Let me walk you through things."

The man almost smiled as he noticed the wince and realised that she was not used to something as sweet and strong as the nectar was. He glanced at the chair before sitting heavily in it, and turned back around to face the console that was beeping in confirmation that things were finished. “So here we are.”

Turning, Evanna leaned back against the desk beside him, a vantage that allowed her to watch him as much as the screen he was focused on. "You have had some experience with Sanctum protocols, this is an exact replica. That means," she added, lips twitching, "that the only learning curve is going to involve addressing any existing confusion you have about its operation."

“Well explain it to me like I’m a first year cadet then?” He grinned putting a hand on her knee as he watched her intently. He had experience but he was not passed learning when it would forward his career if it could propel any further.

Closed eyes lingered just a moment in humour before opening again, a languid blink that absorbed most of Evanna's initial amusement and allowed her to marshal enough composure to slowly lean across him and tap a single button. "This is the On button." Blue eyes found darker ones to dance merry at the interplay. "I have rendered it easily identified by making it green." Teasing a man feared by half the galaxy and underestimated by the other half was bold but she was, if nothing else, deviously compliant at times.

“Green for go.” He commented leaning on the desk with his chin in his hand as he just stared at her. “Very wise of you mi lady.” He had not revealed anything more about his meeting with the Empress but it had put him in a good enough mood that the playfulness was going to last awhile.

"It required some guesswork, I have yet to memorise your file enough to determine with any certainty if you are colour-blind or not." Straightening again, the scientist folded her arms across her stomach and continued her charade. "To compensate, I made it slightly larger than the rest."

"Appreciated." He broke into a grin and shook his head. "I do appreciate this, Evanna." He finally said in a tone that was different from the usual gruff tones that he spoke to the rest of the universe with. He took his glass and downed what was in the glass without a wince or change in expression.

Given that hers had been a life dominated by the construction of various differing facets of a personality designed to adapt and provoke very intentional assumptions, the change in her own demeanour during these exchanges perhaps shouldn't have provided any surprise to Evanna. This felt...less controlled, however, a wild and untamed element that wasn't without its appeal but also flew in the face of everything she had trained herself to be. Of small consolation was the fact that it was likely a shared vulnerability, and that Gregnol himself had a default setting that she suspected would still stand the test of time. Part of her inherently distrusted her own impulses; the rest of her crackled with impatience to explore them.

"Sanctum is my own labour of love," she replied, her own tone softening to match. "I've never attempted to hand full control of an access point to someone else." This time, she permitted a faint smile. "Of all the potential candidates, you seem the most worthy."

The man raised an eyebrow at her opinion of her. "Well at least someone deems me worthy of something other than keeping like a prize." He commented thinking about the Empress's treatment of him the last couple of weeks. It was like being on display in a zoo but it was over with for now which was perfect. "I do not believe I have ever asked why you created it all." He admitted thoughtfully trying to move past the bitterness he had felt burning up inside of him until an hour or so ago.

As was typical, Evanna took a moment to consider her response before speaking. It was difficult to predict how close a person would need to get to her, if it was even possible, for her not to be meticulous with her choice of words given she was a woman who had unlocked the potential for weaponising silence. Unhurried, she considered the wall opposite and eventually managed a relaxation of her features into something akin to resignation as her gaze wandered back to meet his.

"Autonomy." A quirk of her eyebrow suggested she understood the redundancy of it as a response. "I was 12-years-old when Kristof deigned to remember he had a daughter, having left me behind on Betazed with a man who has always had similar struggles viewing me as anything more than a blank canvas. My training was not optional but, as it happened, turned out to be something I was quite good at." Her lips twitched. "I created Sanctum's prototype when I was 15. Adaptation over the years made it a pivotal aspect of my eventual change in personal circumstance, such that I had made my deals right over Kristof's head before he was even aware that I was considering leaving."

There was an implication buried in the bluntness of her recount that spoke to the significance of the workstation he was sat in front of. Her own creation, not a tool of the system she'd been shaped to excel within, but a tool forged from her internal rebellion to eventually free her from it. Giving over control of it to another ought to have been impossibly difficult; that it was Gregnol she had capitulated to on the matter was the closest thing to decisive proof of her loyalties as anyone with Evanna's background was going to be able to provide.

He could not help but be captivated by the woman's explanation of what steps she had taken in the creation of the separate system he now had control over. It was brilliant and a testament to how under the surface she had been going through the Imperial Academy, it was brilliant. "You are wasted here, Evanna." He said simply as he lent out, putting his hands on her waist and bringing her closer to him. He lent up and offered a gentle kiss to her lips.

Tenderness, Evanna suspected, was not exactly second nature to either of them. There had never been a time in her life where she could have trusted it, raised by parents who placed plenty of value in her without showing a great deal of interest in nurturing her emotional growth. Sentiment for sentiment's sake was merely weakness and vulnerability dressed in different colours and she had not made it as far as she had revealing chinks in her armor. The sensation of caring about not only another person's opinion of her, but their own well-being as an entity that sat entirely outside her own experience, was alien. Intrusive. Wild. Careless. Captivating. Being wary of it was as natural as breathing but it was not lost on her that curiosity was priming her to explore the risk even as she acknowledged being utterly unprepared for it.

The many facets of Reuben Gregnol had yet to cast a reflection she found unfavourable. That probably should have concerned her.

But she let him kiss her and smiled against his lips at his assertion. "I am, for the first time, where I choose to be. Whatever I become here will be largely my own responsibility." She pulled back just a little whilst indulging in the closeness. "Within whatever scope my commanding officer permits, of course." A sparkle of mischief in her eyes teased him.

“Will just have to butter him up then. Make it easy to go where and when you want to.” He laughed kissing her again just as softly. It was not often he was gentle and soft like that but his mood had been lifted as high as it could be at the moment.

It was more than even her impressive resolve could resist avoiding lifting her hand so that slender fingers could shift several strands of hair plastered to his forehead back into place. "I wouldn't find him half as admirable were he the type to be easily buttered," she observed. Piercing blue eyes searched his a moment with their usual intensity, deeply evaluative by force of habit. "I am more hopeful that he will have some fresh challenges for me now that it appears he has cast off his shackles once more."

The man under the spotlight just stared back at her just as intently. He did not falter under anyone’s gaze, not his missing wife, not the empress and not the woman in front of him. “Off to Hoth we go. And got a promotion.” He whispered in her ear as he pressed a kiss to her neck.

In the cutthroat world they occupied, it was entirely part of the way the game was played that one person's accomplishments could mean another person's gain. There was no way of knowing how much of the work Belyaev had put into the data retrieval now being used to pinpoint Hoth as a target, not to mention her role in thwarting the recent assassination attempt, had influenced Gregnol's elevation further up the ladder but unlike so many of her counterparts, Evanna relished the notion that she may have helped, in even a small way, to garnering favourable attention for the man her ex-colleagues had wanted to keep entirely in the dark. Promotion came with additional privileges and there was little doubt that several key players were going to be very disappointed to find the Butcher standing around the conference table from now on. The news curled her lips into a much more pronounced smile as she pushed back against him to murmur against his temple, "No wonder you're in a good mood."

“Commodore just sounds better.” He answered back with a smirk. “But my success is everyone’s success as we all get a promotion if I deem people worthy of it.” He revealed. It would either bind people to him more or show the people who needed to moved on or something a lot more final for unsure loyalties.

A quirk of her eyebrow carried the responsibility for most of Evanna's reaction. In terms of career progress, her rank was a reflection of the Empress' own translation of service when moving the scientist from one branch of her military to the next. The secret service had no formal ranks and she had not grown to covet them as much as some of her contemporaries. Of more interest was the potential shake-down of crew prior to departure, especially as the removal of the biodome from the ship had taken with it a huge chunk of her own staff. The hand that had come to rest against his sternum toyed with the fabric of his undershirt and her expression shifted to a more familiar glint of deviousness. "Might I request you leave me at least one of my staff to mop the floors."

“I will get you all the staff you need.” He assured quietly. He expected changes but he also expected people to take their places just as quickly. It was not exactly hard to get people who wanted to serve under him. “Just let me know who you need and I will put in the request. I cannot have you working more or stressed.”

This time, both eyebrows went up. Evanna wasn't exactly distrustful of this complete reversal of mood, there seemed adequate explanation enough for it, but it wasn't lost on her that it hadn't been that long ago that her future had been entirely reliant on the very tenuous balance between what Gregnol found useful about her and how much he hated everything she'd previously worked towards. She didn't begrudge him that, nor was she blind to the efforts he'd made since then to smooth things over, but this was different. He had every right to still mistrust her enough to be harsh in places. Something had happened to adjust his opinion of her, and as far as she was aware, he'd only been talking to one person with enough information to make such a sizeable dent.

"Why do I get the feeling," she started, finally caving to the gentle insistence of his arms around her waist to straddle his lap, "that my work ethic has somehow been exposed." She had a long track record of working alone on particularly strenuous data retrieval. At the very least, she suspected he'd been shown the list of projects she'd had a personal hand in providing detailed analysis for, including several of his key campaigns over recent years.

It was hard to not wonder if she had somewhere inside of her more Betazoid dna than she knew but he said nothing other than nodded for a moment as she finally shifted onto him. “You have been more exposed than you will ever realise.” The man said gently nudging her neck as he readjusted her weight against him. “The Empress has given me access to stuff that her father never would have.” He added. The Empress at the very least trusted him more than her father as he had no ambitions for royalty or even consort or any other position that would take him from Imperial Starfleet.

"And how is my disclosure rate so far?" The file she'd given him had been legitimate, as had every response to every query he'd ever demanded of her. His words could have been perceived as a threat except that Evanna didn't really believe he would have bothered to dress up his tone in quite the same way if that was his intent. It was, of course, entirely a matter of the Empress' interpretation and the ex-intelligence officer recognised that her reputation in this instance very much depended on how the monarch chose to represent her. For a woman who had built her life on secrecy, however, Evanna had very little to hide that wasn't somehow infinitely more enticing to reveal. Pursed lips affected a thoughtful expression as her arms came to rest loosely against his shoulders. "I've spent quite a long time cultivating my secrets. It's somewhat refreshing to finally present them to an audience, select though it may be."

“Seems to be a 100%. Exactly how I like it.” He expected nothing less than that disclosure rate if he was honest with anyone. It was what he expected of anyone but more so of a woman who he was spending more time with than anyone else. “No one else was at this meeting between me and the Empress so there is no one else who knows your complete worth.”

Resisting the urge to quip that it was exactly how she liked it, Evanna nevertheless appeared unperturbed. Kristof was already unhappy with her and likely to become more so once he realised their mission was going to intersect with Talon's operations. Personal vendetta's were not encouraged but the intelligence chief had as much vested interest in locating his ex-husband as Gregnol had in finding his ex-wife. Being beaten to the punch, so to speak, wasn't going to be received graciously and Evanna had no illusions about being protected from either parents' vitriol once the sparks started flying. She had already braced herself for exposure, had accepted that her days of flying under the radar might be numbered. It hadn't changed her mind about what she wanted from her future.

As her gaze held his, the intensity staring back at her only reaffirmed why this, out of all the choices she could have made, felt closest to something she could genuinely value. Evanna hadn't counted on getting quite this close to the man she'd opted to align her trajectory with but unexpected perks kept things interesting. "I have been working with Her Grace far longer than I have been working for her," is what she chose to say. "She is certainly better poised than my father to know the true extent of my work."

He nodded. He had always known the Empress had fingers in all the pies but he had not appreciated quite as much as she had until now. “Why I went to her and accepted nothing less.” He answered still holding her gaze for a moment longer before he finally decided that kissing her was a much better idea that just staring at her and pressed his lips against hers.

A far younger version of Evanna Belyaev would have seen this as the point at which she needed to extract herself. Of course, back then her life hadn't been her own and the only control she had was in how individual moments played out. Her life was still arguably tied to another's whims but the fundamental difference, no matter its simplicity, was that she found Gregnol far more tolerable than either of her fathers. That there was the option for him to seduce her this way was less of an unfair advantage and more an additional perk. The arms resting against his shoulders bent slowly at the elbow to anchor her position, an embrace that brought the distance between them to mere inches.

He had not always been a man driven by what was within in his trousers until he had met Jeassaho but now he was not at all interested in going back to that man at all. The kiss turned more passionate for a moment before the man pulled back just a little. “So what else do you have planned for your night?” He asked running his hands up and down her ribs.

"My original intent was to spend the next hour or so running the workstation through its paces so that I could ensure optimal operational status upon delivery. After that, my options were flexible." A quirk of her head became a playful mockery of due consideration. "A decent amount of optimism did leave me with motivation enough to tidy up our recent data compilation in preparation for transit." In other words, without expectation of his early return, she'd planned to work most of the night. "Pending a better offer, of course."

“So you had no idea I was going to return and you were planning to work the whole night?” He questioned with a nuzzle to her neck. He knew he could not always come across as gentle and considerate but there and then he wanted nothing more than to show it. He was in a good mood and wanted to celebrate with her more than any other person on the ship.

Evanna turned her face enough that her cheek rested against his temple and failed at an attempt to supress her amusement. "My commanding officer is a very results-oriented man. It is one of his many redeemable features." There was no question then that, if he asked her to stay, she would. As much as Evanna genuinely admired Gregnol even at what others might consider his worst, he was unmistakably beguiling in this mood.

“I have redeemable qualities?” He wondered in a wicked tone. “You will need to tell me more about them so I can continue working on them for you.”

"You honour me with your regard for my opinion, moy gospodin." Every bit the cat who stole the cream, Evanna lifted a hand to wipe her thumb across his lower lip, removing the very faint trace of colour that her limited application of makeup had left behind.

“Of course, I regard your opinion.” He said gently as he stood from the chair keeping her close easily as he moved to the bed and lay her down. “You have been a very close ally recently and I value that.”

There had been times, in the throes of passion often doubling as some sort of reconnaissance, where Evanna had permitted a degree of man-handling. Gregnol himself had got away with it despite her complete lack of premeditation at the time. There wasn't something immediately problematic about being carried about, there had just never been any instance of it that came close to a sincere act of intimacy for intimacy's sake. The juxtaposition of Gregnol's tenderness with his very direct pathway that skipped straight to the bedroom was perplexing without being objectionable. Quizzical eyes regarded him, pinned as she was without cause for complaint. Reading the sincerity in his gaze, the blonde's expression finally allowed his example to coax a relaxation of her own intensity.

"Well, now you have some idea of just how long I have been working to support your objectives." If he'd seen inside her career to the extent she suspected, the hand she'd played in compiling the intelligence he'd been privy to over the past year or so was considerable.

The man stood over her for a moment before he sat down on the edge of the bed and just watched her back. “I do so now I need to decide how many favours and what I owe you in return for that support.” He pursed his lips and indicated for her to decide.

He had worked hard for it but the remark finally provoked a soft huff of laughter from the woman on his bed. "Were it actually true that the Butcher, of all people, was somehow beholden to me, I'd be concerned about the amount of interest that would suddenly generate." Eyes sparkling, she reached up to pull him down beside her, the first show of direct insistence she'd permitted, and then moulded herself into the simplicity of a tangled embrace. "I am well-versed in the trading of favours and promises. My current aspiration is to continue my work here without the need to pretend otherwise." Her voice softened marginally. "You don't owe me anything, Reuben. My motivation is not the standard lunge for power."

The man was careful to not squash her under him as he was tugged close to her. He raised an eyebrow, it was normally him who engaged embraces or situations for intimacy. “Then do not pretend any longer. You are not as cold or aloof as people think, Evanna, if you do not owe me any favours then please at least here in these walls do not pretend.” He whispered.

A bold request and, coming from a man like Gregnol, easily a far more difficult prospect than almost anything else he could have asked. Layers of defence strategies peeled away only to reveal more layers and it had been that way for her entire life because it had to be. She was the intentional product of a mutually-abusive marriage, raised amongst telepaths who had been allowed to take advantage of her because it was strategically the best way for her to adapt. Abandoned to the indoctrination of one father, only to be yanked away into the world of the other, and neither of those spheres were populated by people you ever allowed to render you vulnerable. Gregnol had a terrifying ability to turn all that on its head, so thorough unanticipated as anything more than her commanding officer, and Evanna realised it wasn't just a matter of wanting to oblige or not; knowing how to let someone burrow layers deeper than anyone else ever had was not a skill she found herself immediately in possession of.

But this was her choice now, that was the entire point. Still a puppet on a string but she selected the music she danced to. And she was not a coward. Evanna Belyaev, for all her ducking and weaving, was a risk-taker and thrived in high-pressure situations. Being wary was smart but that didn't have to stop her.

Her blue eyes held his.

"It may take some practice."

“I have patience.” He said simply. It was one of his more adoring qualities that he was not impatient for everything all at once. It was why he got so far so quickly in Imperial Starfleet.

"Then it will be quite an adventure." It seemed, for all intents and purposes, quite an understatement given that she was currently pinned beneath one of the most powerful men in the quadrant. Evanna smiled faintly, mischief returning as a far more blatant flirt. "We haven't addressed how you intend to spend your unexpectedly-free night. Am I interrupting?"

“Not in the slightest.” He assured bending in close to kiss her hard. He had been pretty sure that he was going to spend the night in bed and this was a much more exciting way than being alone.