Watch Out Boy, She'll Chew You Up - Part One: The Dance

Posted on 30 Jan 2016 @ 6:37pm by Lieutenant Wilhelm Von Haeften & Petty Officer 1st Class Rebecca Williams

3,001 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 10 - Symposium
Location: Jupiter Station - Warp Core Bar
Timeline: MD 83 - 2137 Hours

ON

Wilhelm could not wait to get off that ship. After an entire month of writing his own and checking his subordinate’s speeches for the symposium, he has a spent round. He just wanted to get out, away from the ship, and into 'normal' society. And so he ended up here, at the Warp Core, the whimsically titled bar hot spot on Jupiter Station. Wilhelm had no idea what he was going to get up to, but he decided to dress well, in case he decided to ask a pretty gal to dance.

Tonight's ensemble probably was hip a decade ago, but Wilhelm had not yet updated his wardrobe with the latest fashions, or even knew what they were to be honest. He decided on a bright red button shirt, mostly because the Gentleman's Quarterly magazine he subscribed to said it was a 'power color' that women were attracted to, and black trousers and shoes. Topping it off was a black leather jacket he bought during a deployment to Carus II from a local tailor, which Wil thought he looked dashing and roguish in.

The German walked up to the bar and sat down on a stool. Once the barkeep noticed him, Von Haeften ordered his drink.

"One screwdriver please."

Maybe he'd see if someone was playing pool or darts...maybe he'd people watch, he hadn't made his mind up yet.

"A screwdriver? Let me see if I remember correctly...orange juice and..." Rebecca tilted her head to the side as she studied the drink placed in front of the stranger to whom she'd paid no attention to before this; her loosened hair falling to one side as her darkened grey eyes studied him more closely.

Normally she wouldn't have bothered to turn around but the accent caught her attention. The accented voice has heavy with an accent she hadn't heard in quite sometime. "Wodka ich glaube?"^ The wodka was pronounced the same as she would vodka in English with the W sound substituted for a v but the was more heavily pronounced as her voice deepened.

Wilhelm turned to a beautiful brunette wearing a dress red as a rose. Although the dress length went down to her ankles, the slit on the side showed some of the amply shaped legs that the skirt was concealing. Wilhelm prided himself on being a gentleman, but was powerless as his eyes started at her heels buckled around her ankles, up her leg, to that slightly exposed right hip, up her pleasantly shaped torso, shown in all its curvaceous glory by the neckline that seemed to go on forever, to her smoldering eyes and red lips. Before he could help it, Von haeften blurted out a single phrase in German:

“Gott im Himmel...sie sind so schoene”*

The blurt out of words didn't surprise Rebecca in the least, and the voyeuristic lingering glance that this strange man had just taken of her only served to excite her more. There was a reason she dressed the way in which she did...she knew how it could excite a man and entwine the opposite sex in her net. She fed on their reactions and the power she wielded with just her looks.

Leaning in closer, her fingers moved to a beer mat as her fingertips caressed the edges of the toughened paper, her eyes following their own path across the stranger's body; searching out what he hid beneath his clothes. "That's quite the foreign tongue you have there..." As she analysed his words, a hint of surprise entered her eyes as her stare returned to his, "...Low Saxon? I don't think I've ever heard it spoken beyond twenty century recordings....It was believed to be extinct by the late twenty first century if memory serves me right."

"Nein. New Berlin actually; of Luna. I'm told our Germanic accent is a combination best described as a marriage between Austrian and Prussian." Wil said, leaning closer to her despite his own will to not do so. Her scent was intoxicating, like lilacs in bloom. Part of him wanted to clear everything off the table and have her right there and he didn't care if every patron watched him. But, being a gentleman, Von Haeften pushed the thought away.

"Wilhlem, or just Wil if you prefer, miss...?" the German said, extending his hand.

Rebecca hesitated for a moment before taking the accepted hand. She admitted surprise, a handshake wasn’t the normal response of a man who looked to chat her up. A handshake between a man and woman was more of an indicator of chivalry than one cared to admit.

The yeoman found herself wincing at his explanation to his dialect as the woman begun to realise that perhaps she was more rusty than she cared to realise. “I will admit to it having been awhile since I’ve had the opportunity to listen to spoken German, it not a language one hears that often in the Federation any more. These days it’s all about the exotic languages such as Rihannsu or Ferengi...I have to admit the I find they all dull in comparison to the traditional Earth languages.”

“You hear it occasionally, mostly on New Berlin and sometimes out of Germany proper, but fewer and fewer people teach their children the language. Which is a shame. I’m told it can actually be quite sexy.” Wil stated. Realizing he was still holding her hand, which he was gripping lightly, as if it was made of the finest porcelain, Wil smiled shyly.

“You still haven’t told me your name my dear.” the German said. “Wie heisst du?”^^^

The shy smile took her by surprise, up until that point she’d thought the man unreserved and somewhat forward. The change unhinged her a little, more used to men who would ooze confidence in themselves. Through the years, Rebecca had come to know the dangers which lay in the path otherwise. This stranger seemed unafraid to look for what he wanted, taking his time to look her over before twice asking for her name but...the shy smile was confusing.

Rebecca hadn’t intentionally missed the name request the first time, absorbed more so in his accent and the beginnings of their conversation more than anything else. She figured it imprudent to ignore for a third time, “Rebecca. Far more plainer than Wilhelm I am afraid.”

“It’s a lovely name Rebecca; don’t sell yourself short.” As Von Haeften was talking, wondering what to say next, the music changed to one of a slower, more intimate beat.

Normally, Wilhelm would never even think to ask such a thing so soon after meeting a lady, but something about her emboldened him, made him a bit braver and bolder than he usually would be.

Looking at his newly met female companion, the German smiled another shy smile and asked, tentatively: “You..don’t want to dance...do you?”

Rebecca studied Wilhelm closer, she took her time answering as she tried to figure if it would be better to let him down now rather than later. The mis-match of a slight dominance with speaking his mind clashed with that shy smile he kept giving. She wasn’t certain if it was an indicator to a man who wasn’t certain of his stance in life or whether he was just genuinely a nice guy who perhaps had chosen a target he didn’t realise would be more of a handful than perhaps anticipated.

Wilhelm stood up, discarded his jacket, and held his hand out to the lady, palm downward.

The bold move took her by surprise, even more than the body revealed to be hiding beneath the jacket. He wasn’t muscular by any means, Wilhelm’s body alluded to the fact that he obviously participated in physical activity but it wasn’t overdone to the point at which he manipulated his body into grotesque shapes. A six pack suited some but not others and this was obviously a man who recognised that.

The yeoman’s eyes moved back up to the stranger’s as she studied him a little more closely. The words she spoke softly would be heard for only the ear’s she intended them for, “Do you realise what you are getting yourself into?”

“Not yet. But I figure whatever it is, the consequences can wait. If I may be so bold, you are a lady worth dancing with.” Wil said, more confidently than he felt. His only saving grace was that his father was classically trained in the art of being a gentleman, including dancing, and he taught Wilhelm everything he had known.

Hesitating for a brief moment more, Rebecca threw caution to the wind as she took the offered hand, using the new leverage to move to her feet. The hair’s breath difference in their height allowed the woman to move her free hand, gently tracing the curve of his jaw; allowing her body to move that little bit closer to his. Her voice still a whisper, the woman moved her head until her lips were put a breath away from the stranger’s ear, “I take men like you “schatze”** and break you before piecing you back together and sending you on your way….”

This time it was Wil who came in close to the lady's ear and said ‘I’m only asking you to dance Gummibaerchen***, not to make love on the dance floor. Besides…” the last words were said with a hint of danger underneath them. “...what makes you think I can even BE broken, my dear?”

Rebecca couldn’t prevent the smile spreading across her lips as her mind worked to unravel the German word which Wilhelm had used. She understood the word bear but found herself a little lost with the rest.

Taking their joined hands, Rebecca pulled his body closer until it pressed against the length of hers, taking their lips to within millimeters of each other. Her eyes never left his as she tried to probe the truth below the man’s surface, “That sounds like an invitation...one I might just accept if you don’t take better care Wilhelm.” His name rolled softly off of the yeoman’s tongue as she tested the full pronunciation of his name for the first time...not scared to admit what it might be like to shout it in the heat of passion. “Wilhelm suits you better than Will.”

Wilhelm couldn’t help that his heart started to beat faster, and his body heated from contact with Rebecca’s own sleek and warm form. He swallowed hard, trying to make it as inconspicuous as possible. “Thank you Rebecca.” It seemed the safe thing to say.

The German pulled away from her furnace-like body, to take Rebecca to the dance floor. A few other couples were also dancing, so there was plenty of room. The German took Rebecca’s right hand in his, still holding it like fine china, while placing his right hand on the lady’s left hip. Wil felt the warmth of her skin burning through the sheer red fabric, causing his hand to reflexively squeeze slightly harder than he would typically. He looked into her eyes, those burning, mischievous eyes, as he began to get into the rhythm of the song. It was a popular track, about a woman and man who find each other alluring, eventually succumbing to their wild passions after a tense bout of angry words.

As Rebecca allowed the music to ebb and flow around them both, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from Wilhelm’s. The depths of his orbs tried to fool her into believing their colour to be a similar grey to her own but the woman could see the bursts of blue dominate the rounded structure as the more vibrant colour laid its claim.

She didn’t know what it was about this man but she felt drawn in like never before. Although only knowing him for mere minutes, her body felt natural under his hands, as if it’s shape had been moulded with his in mind.

Rebecca’s mind flickered towards what it would feel like to have him lay claim to her body without the veil of clothes to separate them. She begun to wonder what more the hands that caressed her hip would be able to do, what pleasure they would be able to tease from her body. It begun to scare her, a fear she refused to externally show, how much she found herself aching to be with this man; to continue their dance to this tune in a more intimate of settings.

Wil knew what he was doing on the dance floor. He did not look down at Rebecca’s feet nor at the other patrons as he and Williams glided around the room. Occasionally, Von Haeften would put up his hand to indicate that Rebecca should twirl or spin. The song picked up, as the lady singing it spoke of the first time their lips touched.

Wilhelm slowed his pace. Rebecca was close to him, very close. Close enough that he could feel almost every curve, every inch of her warmth against him. It excited him, it intrigued him. He would have been the grossest of liars if had said he did not desire this woman. Her beauty was such that the German was sure that Venus herself was envious, and the way she moved on the dance floor with him convinced him that she was no stranger to dancing. He was powerless as his right hand gave the curve of her hip another squeeze, this one more possessive, more hungry. It felt like he was watching someone else as he gently pulled Rebecca towards him and their lips met.

She was lying to herself when she tried to convince herself that she hadn’t seen it coming. Rebecca knew Wilhelm’s intent before he even made his move. She read it in his eyes, the blue deepening to the hue of a sea in turmoil as he battled his thoughts and reactions as hard as she fought her own. The touch of his lips caused a momentarily freeze of time as her face tilted so their lips naturally fit together; allowing her a full and proper taste of this man who threatened to turn her life upside down.

Wil did not know how Rebecca felt about the kiss, but to Wil, it was intense. Her lips were soft, warm, and just moist enough. Wil did not try and slip any tongue in, he was too much the gentleman for that, but the very moment of their lips coming into contact with each other, Von Haeften felt an urge, a primal one, inside of him, and despite his attempts to fight it, to resist it, he actually pulled Rebecca into him, as if to merge their bodies into a single, warm unit. It was like very few kisses he had ever received. In that kiss, Wil felt like he had lived a lifetime, and no time at all.

The forced press of bodies as Wilhelm pulled her close was a contrast against the restraint of the kiss. Confusion filled Rebecca’s mind as she felt the press of Wilhelm’s lips but his tongue didn't follow. The damp feel of the flesh of his lips pressed against hers as they manipulated a response from her own. Their movements slow and precise as the pressure alternated between soft and hard...the control to hold back before giving into the passion as she pressed her lips harder against his.

The yeoman begun to feel overwhelmed with this need to inhibit this man and only him. Her heart raced and her body burned with the most basic of needs...to have this man inhibit her in mind and in body.

Rebecca’s own tongue moved to the recesses of his mouth, she felt his body tense against hers but all Wilhelm did was press his lips harder against hers and refuse her advancement. The woman ached to feel the battle of his tongue against hers in a war of control but he held back and she didn’t understand why...the frustration of this lack of understanding causing her body to crush even harder against his. Was he playing a game of dominance, forcing her to play to his tune? If that was the case it worked...never before had Rebecca found herself wanting a man as much as she did Wilhelm right now. never before had she willingly handed over so much control and felt safe in doing it. everything else ceased to exist beyond this one kiss.

Wilhelm could stand it no more. If he didn’t break the kiss that was driving him mad, he might very well have made love right there on the dance floor, and they would have thrown him in the brig with the biggest grin on his face since he went to his high school prom. With great effort, he removed his lips from Rebecca’s, although he thought he could sense that she wanted to enjoy them more.

The German moved closer to his dance partner. “Do you wanna get outta here?” he heard himself say. They sounded like the words of a stranger; Von Haeften was never this bold.

To Be Continued...

OFF

^Vodka I believe?
^^My Name is...
*God in Heaven...you are so beautiful.
**Sweetheart
***Gummy Bear (literally)


A JP by:

Lieutenant JG Wilhelm Von Haeften
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

&

Petty Officer 2nd Class Rebecca Williams
Yeoman to the Commanding Officer
USS Galileo

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