PART SIX
"We must steal his wealth," said one sailor. "He is now very rich."
"Not only that, my brother," said another sailor. "He is from the first family of Methymna, but Periander of Corinth is like a brother to him and we all know how wealthy Periander is."
"It is our good fortune to have the winner of the Sicilian Festival with us! He is the greatest singer and poet of all! We should take his wealth and throw him in the sea."
"And incur the wrath of Dionysos to whose glory he sang?"
"Does he not have better things to do with his life?"
"If he did, we would not have his wealth, my brother. Let us end his life now!"
But Arion, on hearing of the plot, pleaded for his life. The sailors told him to jump into the sea. What did Arion do? He told them he wanted to sing a sad song of death before he died. So he started to sing his death-song and played his lyre. It was so mournful and yet so beautiful that the sailors were mesmerised by his music. Arion took his chance and jumped overboard into a sea of wild creatures. But behold! Even the creatures of the sea were charmed by his music! A dolphin rose out of the ocean and carried Arion to the shore of Corinth.
Ché paused, his eyes teasing. Kathryn couldn't believe that he’d stopped the story right at that point. She punched his chest playfully.
"Ché! You're telling me a legend, stringing me along and then you stop right at the most interesting part," she cried in mock outrage.
He laughed, catching the hand that rested against his chest. Kathryn sucked in her breath.
"You're like a little child today," he said, "a child wanting to throw some stones at the storyteller."
She wanted to shake him to continue.
"What happened to Arion?"
"Okay, okay! Well, Arion was carried on the back of the dolphin to the shore of Corinth. Did I tell you he was born in this ancient town of Methymna? Well, Arion and his dolphin reached Corinth before the sailors did. Periander the Tyrant - " Ché paused again dramatically.
Kathryn sighed. Today she had to be patient. She took Ché's hand and kissed the back of it. "Please, are you going to tell me without interrupting yourself? Now what did Periander decide?"
"Periander made the sailors confess and then killed them all."
"How?"
"They were crucified. Then he decreed that Arion's lyre and the dolphin be taken to the heavens where they became constellations. Tonight, Kathryn, I'll show you the constellations of Lyra and Delphus."
"That was a beautiful story," she told him.
"Thank you, Kathryn. It's not as if you don't know these things - "
"But you tell it so beautifully, Ché!"
She could see how Ché basked in her praise.
"Let me know when I should tell you another story."
He smiled down at her, his face clear. It was so different from three weeks ago outside the small temple on Lexos where they’d met. Then there were lines of stress and sadness about his attractive features. Now he looked animated.
"Well, we're here on Lesbos all day," she told him. "When we get to Thermi, you can tell me about Sappho of Lesbos and Periander of Corinth."
"I promise to enthral you, Kathryn," he said with that familiar gleam in his eyes. She gave a tiny sigh. Perhaps she should just go back to San Francisco and stay with Chakotay. This man... There was so much goodness in him. He was painfully courteous in public to her and such a gentleman. She shook her head. Her train of thought was running in a direction she didn't want to contemplate, and it was running fast, very fast.
They had become friends naturally and quickly and it stunned her a little. The first weekend, they had walked the beaches of Naxos and found a hidden cove along the same stretch where her cottage was located, but further south. They dined in the restaurants of the island; they stood in the frame of the marble doorway of the Temple of Apollo and watched the sun setting. They sat quietly in the chapel at Lexos and browsed the craft market for hours until they were hungry and she suggested they buy something from one of the food stalls. Then she'd laugh herself silly when he'd wipe a stray crumb from her mouth. She hadn't felt so relaxed in years. Wherever they walked, people stopped to stare at them. She had not bothered to remove her wedding band; the islanders were warm and friendly and didn't seem to care whether the two of them had other partners.
Often they had exchanged looks, Ché's eyes gleaming darkly and hers warm as they rested on him. She had not wanted to examine the meaning of those looks. They were clear enough, so she was careful not to touch him much or give him any indication that he could turn the look into something deeper. But he was strong and muscular, kind and gentle and when he smiled at her, it made her heart melt.
Friends is what she’d asked for that first day; and she enjoyed these outings with him. She’d thought he might not come last week. She hadn't wanted to contact his hotel even though she knew he had arrived on the Friday night. His appearance that Saturday at the market made her heart thump with excitement as she saw him walking purposefully towards her. Then he had taken her hands in his and told her how glad he was to be meeting her and that he thought that she might have returned home to San Francisco.
Only once had he dined with her in her cottage. It was last Sunday evening, but he left soon after, pleading work the next day. She thought that he was exercising great restraint and that he had done the gentlemanly thing to return home before he even touched her hand in a suggestive way. He was a pleasure to be with, with a fount of information about the islands which he had researched. During the week, she couldn't stop thinking about him, and even when she went to bed, his face was the image she saw before falling into a deep sleep.
The air of Naxos refreshed her, and most mornings when she went down to swim in the crystal clear water of the ocean, she took deep breaths first, inhaling the salty freshness. Then she would laze and float on her back in the still water. A little more than waist deep, she could see the ocean bed, so clear was the water. Mornings were reserved for swimming and she had developed a healthy tan after almost three weeks. She'd first swim strongly and for some distance to build her endurance and become fit again, and then laze on her back in the water, drifting for what felt like hours to her. Chakotay had been happy to see her looking so healthy and "less pinched." Then he instructed her to be careful about drifting too far out, she might find herself on the shore of another island.
Today she and Ché were standing among the ruins of a temple of the ancient town of Methymna, and Ché had regaled her with the story of Arion who had been born here. She wore a blue dress, strap sandals and her ever present straw hat. Ché was already at the other side of the ruin, examining the foundations and the markings on the marble doorway of the Temple of Apollo. There were still two more ancient towns to visit and she was enjoying it so much she didn't want the day to end. Ché appeared relaxed in his white shirt and shorts and leather sandals and he looked incredibly handsome. He stood out wherever they went. Occasionally, she would catch him stealing a glance at her and he'd grin as if he felt guilty that she’d caught him staring. She didn't know much about him, and he only knew that she was a Starfleet Admiral. Her name didn't ring a bell for him and she was glad that there were people who didn't know of Voyager's exploits in the Delta Quadrant. It was quite possible that he knew through some elementary research, but he wasn't saying much. Besides, she liked it that way. She could meet him on a ground where there was no Starfleet, no Admirals, no businessman who hailed from Louisiana mourning his dead wife.
Kathryn touched the column reverently, breathing in the age of the Aegean with its beauty and cultural blend of the old and the new - the myths and legends of Greece, the ancient towns built almost four thousand years ago, and the modern structures on the other islands. The Federation had been particularly visionary when it came to preserving Earth's cultural wealth, and many places, such as Lesbos Island, were preserved as they had been two thousand years ago. Old towns lay excavated, and Methymna and Thermi received many tourists every summer. Other visitors walked about quietly, hardly talking as they admired the walls and columns of the temple.
"Kathryn..." she heard Ché calling her.
She walked quickly to join him.
"You're so far from me. Walk next to me, please?"
"Of course," she responded as she took his hand and he helped her off a ledge. She gave a small cry as she stumbled against him.
"Hey," he said, catching her, "I like that..."
The smile on his face froze slowly and his eyes bore into her. Her heart was racing as he held her to him. Who were they kidding? They had been avoiding this moment for three weeks. She stared at him, her lips parted, heart pounding painfully. He was standing with the sun behind him and his face was cast in light shadow. It was his eyes that spread the warmth to her very core. They were heated, glowing, devastating, and even as she tried to reason her way out of the situation, the pull towards him was irresistible and inevitable. His hands were on her shoulders and he drew her even closer. She had no resistance as she pressed against him. Was that a throbbing in her ears that she felt as he lowered his head towards her?
Did her mouth wait for his lips to descend?
All she knew was that they were locked in an embrace in a cocoon of softness.
"Kathryn..." he whispered her name hoarsely just before his lips touched hers. The touch was electric, waves of ecstasy roaring through her as she opened her mouth and heard a moan that came from somewhere deep inside him. Her eyes closed. She inhaled him, warm and very masculine. She tasted his tongue in her mouth, enjoyed the feel of it as he ran it over her teeth, touched her own tongue, sucked on her lower lip. Throwing her arms around his neck, Kathryn discarded all thought of rules, of someone else waiting for her, and revelled in Ché's burning, searching, hungry mouth on her own. He pressed her into him and she melted, the process an unending flow of pleasure and their mingling breaths. She felt weak with want, her legs buckling.
Once when she could breathe, she murmured his name.
"Ché... Ché..."
And in answer to her call came his voice - rasping, tender, soft , "Kathryn....oh Kathryn..."
Then suddenly, she broke the heat of the kiss. Her eyes burned; her skin was clammy. Around them were people, but they didn't care. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. He looked shaken.
"Kathryn... I - "
"Ché...?"
"I'm sorry, Kathryn... So sorry... I've wanted to kiss you from the first day I saw you in the market... I couldn't help it - "
"Don't apologise, Ché. It - it was always going to happen, wasn't it? I wish it hadn't. With a soft cry, she moved out of his embrace and quickly followed the path down from the ruin to the road. She heard his footsteps behind her and when he reached her, he turned her so that she looked at him. There was confusion in his eyes.
"What's wrong, Kathryn?" he asked quietly. "I'm sorry if I hurt you - "
"Not you too!"
"I don't understand."
"Don't apologise. He - " She found it so difficult. Chakotay had never kissed her so that her foundations were torn from underneath her. She closed her eyes, this time not caring that the tears squeezed through and trailed down her cheek. "My husband..."
"What about your husband, Kathryn?"
"I'm not happy, you know... He apologised...all the time..."
"Oh, Kathryn... Look at me, please..." She opened her eyes slowly. Ché's eyes were dark with pain. He brushed the tears from her cheek and kissed her again, this time on her forehead. "What happened just now was inevitable. You understand that, don't you? I couldn't stop it and neither could you. I'm not sorry that I kissed you, but I am sorry that I hurt you. I'll do anything not to hurt you. I will not touch you again. In fact - "
"No, please... You don't have to go. This - this is new for me..."
Kathryn couldn't remember ever feeling miserable and ecstatic at the same time. She wasn't openly rejecting him, or his kisses. His expression changed to elation as the realisation dawned that she wasn't sending him away. She cupped his cheek with her palm with great tenderness before reaching up for a brief kiss, giving herself over to the delight of the sensual touch.
"Then use it to free yourself from the bonds that enslave you, " he said. "When we leave here, remember it as a gentle interlude, sweetheart..." Her heart burned at his endearment.
She nodded, too mute to speak again. When they walked down the road to take a transport to Thermi, she threw her arm round his waist.
"So what story shall I tell you now?" he asked.
"How about the tale of Sappho, the Poetess, like you promised?"
Ché laughed as he looked down at her, then bent to kiss her quickly.
"Sappho it is, darling Kathryn."
I am happy...
**********
They enjoyed a quiet dinner in her cottage. The day had been pure magic and she almost didn't want it to end. Ché kept looking at her throughout their meal. It was a warm, appraising look, one that excluded the outside world, Chakotay, her work at Starfleet, the memory of Ché's dead wife and his work at home.
She felt liberated, freer than she had in years. She was willing to admit that the exotic location, the attractive man sitting opposite her, the freedom in simply enjoying her newfound friendship with him, was what gave her that feeling.
Chakotay was distant. Their weekly communications were charming. She missed him on those nights and he would say every time without fail, that he missed her. On Wednesday, he had looked tired and the concern welled up in her. She had wanted to come home, but he wouldn't hear of it, saying that she needed the time away. Her disappointment had been sharp. There was so much more she wanted to hear from him, but to see him opening up?
Here was Ché, whose presence exuded charm and strength all at once. He was so uncomplicated, so ready to take life and enjoy it, but especially enjoy it with her. They had walked hand in hand from the transports to her house here, and it felt so natural. She had rested her head against him and he had planted a kiss against her hair when they came in.
"Kathryn..."
"Yes?" she asked.
"It's Sunday night and I - "
She sighed. He always left for Louisiana early on Sunday evening.
"I know. You have to go..."
"And do you know how difficult it is to do so? Now that I have kissed you and tasted sweet nectar on your tongue?" His words were utterly suggestive and sexy and they bathed her in a golden glow of pleasure.
They had finished their meal and were sitting on the couch in the lounge. She didn't want to sit on the patio because the chairs created distance between them and she wanted to be closer to him. He pulled her into his arms. She inhaled his musk, remembering the kiss of the afternoon, the bliss of his touch. At Thermi, they had walked naturally hand in hand, stopping to look at the columns, stopping for a light kiss, stopping just to look at one another as if they had both been very surprised by their reactions.
Kathryn snuggled closer, burying her face in his neck. Ché gave a groan as he capitulated, pulling on her hair so that she had to tilt her head. He brought his mouth down on hers. His breath warmed her, their lips brushing, tenderly exploring, opening, moaning as her tongue probed deep inside his mouth, blinding flashes accompanied by waves of pleasure that shot through her body. God, he tasted so good.
Ché released her, his eyes on fire. Then his mouth bore down on hers again in a stormy exchange of kisses. It was quiet in the room and only distantly could she hear the soft play of waves as they collapsed on the sand. Ché murmured her name between taking breaths and gasping as he nipped and tasted her mouth.
"Ché...Ché..." she whispered against him.
She was dizzy, knowing that she was sinking into an ocean of pleasure and becoming drunk from too much of it. Her head was swimming as Ché ate at her mouth. She became aware that his hand cupped her breast, kneading it gently. Her nipples sprang achingly erect, his hand fanning the fever in her body. Finally she managed to pull away from him. He looked dazed.
"Kathryn..." His hand very reluctantly released her breast. Her breathing was erratic, but the contact of his hand against her bosom caused lightning bolts of desire to shoot to her core where she could feel a gentle pulsating. She had given a little cry at the unfamiliar sensation. She felt wet, certain that there was dampness between her legs. Chakotay had never... Oh God... She had never felt so wet just from a touch on her breast, a finger that rubbed a nipple right through the fabric of her dress and bra... Her voice was thick with passion, but she had to send him away, away from her mouth, her probing tongue, her throbbing centre so she could remain sane.
"You - you have to go, Ché...please."
Because I'm losing my sanity... I want him... I want him... I want him...
He rose from the depths of his passion, pulling her up with him and into his arms again.
"I can't let you go out of my life, Kathryn... Not now..." he said, tenderly caressing her cheeks, his thumbs flitting lightly over her lips. She was certain if she looked in a mirror, that her lips would be very red from their kissing.
"And I can't let you go..."
"Kiss me again, Kathryn. Give me your touches and your warmth and your softness to feed on for the rest of the week."
He looked so serious that she wanted to laugh, but the look in his eyes was enough to convince her that he really needed her and needed to feed on the bliss they’d experienced today.
She rose on tiptoe, put her arms round his neck and melted into him. She couldn't let him go, and kept on kissing, moaning instantly as she felt his arousal. This time she didn't demur when he touched her breast again and pulled her head back with the other hand so that he found the hollow of her throat, pressing searing lips there. He caught her skin between his teeth and pulled it into a sucking motion.
"Oh God, that feels so good," she whispered. At last she broke contact. "Now you have to go, sweetheart. I'll see you next week."
"It's too long, but it will be enough to fan my hunger for you, darling. I - I need you..."
"'til next week then? Can't I stay?"
"No."
She pushed him towards the front door, pressing her palm against his chest, thoroughly loving him, taking steps backwards until he was at the door. He touched her cheek in a brief caress.
"Goodbye, darling."
************
End Part 6