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The Admiral's Daugther

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“All you got to do is ask.”

Carol Marcus recalled these words with absolute clarity. It was frightening, because men never impressed her that much. She could recall the shy smile of the first boy who had asked her out, the stupid line her last one night stand had made and lots of other small things. It was always just one detail that stuck. In this case, she remembered his breath against her ear, the short but tight grip on her shoulder, even the smell of his soap was there with the memory of his voice.

Whoever John Harrison was, she did not need her father to tell her that he was dangerous. That was no doubt why her father, Admiral Marcus, had assigned him to Section 31. Some of the best and sometimes most devious minds in Starfleet worked on his secret projects. Until now he had always given her full access on anything he had been doing. Her goal has always been to become one of the top weapon specialist, not just to make her father proud but because she liked working with dangerous things. Disarming bombs, handling volatile materials was a rush and Carol could not imagine doing anything else.

These days, she felt more and more concerned about her father. Something had changed in the past year. Alexander Marcus was more distant than usual. When they talked, he was mainly concerned with getting ready for a war with the Klingons. Any notions that there might be a peaceful solution were met with a disturbing hostility. For him it was an unavoidable conflict.

When she asked him about his new project, he lied and said, he was not working on one. He even removed her section 31 access under the pretence that she needed to focus on her own achievements for a change. So naturally, she had taken a closer look at what was actually happen in the London facility.

For her it was easy to sneak back in. She figured her best chance was to access the specifics at one of the terminals in the office above the main construction area. Scanning through the files, she had not noticed that someone had crept up on her. Seemingly, out of nowhere, a voice chided her about needing to be more attentive when snooping around a secret weapons laboratory.

He suddenly leaned over her with one hand next to hers and his other reaching around her. Carol found herself so enthralled by the deep, enigmatic voice that she did not even thought about protesting.

“You are looking in the wrong place,” he continued.

When she finally managed to open her mouth and ask him where she should look, he leaned in so close pressing so tightly against her, that she felt a bit dizzy from his body heat.

“I can point you in the right direction, Carol.”

That he knew her name did not scare her nearly as much as the fact that his left hand was reaching under her short uniform skirt. If she was honest, what really frightened her, was the fact that she liked it. That she did not immediately told him to back off.

“Right now, you might want to leave.”

As he said it, he pointed through the window panel showing that her father was just entering the construction area below them. Trying to follow that advice at least by ducking out of sight, she realised that he was holding her too tight.

“Let me go.”

“Ah, maybe - if you ask nicely.”

Carol turned her head to look at him. He seemed amused at her plight and looked at her unmoved with a wicked smile on his handsome face. Unlike most of the technicians here he wore the basic black uniform with no markers that might give away which rank he was occupying.

“What do you want me to say, please?”

It was more surprise then actual indignation. His smile widened for a moment and she felt his right hand forcing her to turn away from the console. Carol did not fought but sensed right away that he way to strong for that to be of any use.

“That would be a good start.”

Staring at him as Carol realised what he really meant by asking. If she had any smarts left she would have protested and called out. Someone was bound to hear her. But her thoughts did not ran to self-preservation. What crossed her mind had everything to do with how turned on she found herself at this very moment.

“Please, he can't know I am here.”

As she spoke these words she placed her hands on his hips. Then she felt his hand firmly grabbing her butt and pressing her closer against him. Looking in panic behind her, she could not see her father any more. Turning back to man who had trapped her, she said please as nicely as she could.

This time is had worked. If only by Harrison moving them out of sight behind a pillow in the office. She was still trapped. If it was not for the fact that her father was likely heading their way, Carol would not have minded this so much.

“You can not possibly want him to find us like this.”

“No, I think I prefer him to ....”

He was almost purring. His hand moved around her leg and then forcing it's way between her legs. There was no need to finish the sentence.

“Please, not here.”

That was the absolute truth, she did not want him to take his hand away. There was no reply, just fingers forcefully rubbing against her fancy silk knickers. Harrison watched her with a detached coldness. Only smiling, as she moaned and he saw her embarrassment flashed over her face. She tried again to argue but all that seemed to do was amuse Harrison further. Part of her began to think maybe it was not that bad. Surely, her father was not against her having something going on with one of his weapon's specialists? Deep down she knew that was wishful thinking, her father would freak out seeing her making out and especially with a man working on a project that he did not want her to know about.

“Give me your panties.”

The request came so sudden, that all she could say was: “What?”

“Do it know.”

Realizing he was dead serious, that there was not enough time if she was hoping to get away before her father showed up, she reached under her uniform. Part of her could not believe that she was doing this, yet another part was almost too eager to comply with the order. His hand moved to make room and she eventually with some acrobatic finesse removed them.

It felt awkward to be without them. Even though she still was not free, his other hand hand found its way to her neck. Carol handed over her undies. Just as she wanted to ask if he was now letting her slip away, he kissed her. It was a wolfish, hungry kiss that made her feel quite dazed.

“If you want to find out what your father has been up to - I can point you in the right direction.”

At that point he had not been able to say anything back. She probably should have asked him his name, what he was doing and numerous other professional questions. Not that she believed for a minute that he would have answered anything. He only revealed information he wanted to reveal - for more exclusive details, she probably had to give up a lot more than just her underwear.

“All you got to do is ask.”

That were his final words before he forced down on her knees. Panic overcame her for a second then she realized that her father was coming up the stairs. Luckily, there were two ways out of the office and she managed to crawl to the other still open door with the desks covering her exit.
Out of sight on the staircase, she heard her father's voice and wondered if she should eavesdrop. Since the staircase was made of see-through metal netting, her returning sense of modesty made her back down as silently as she could. The incident had left her only more determined to find out what was going on and who the tall, dark stranger had been.

It surprised her how much time it took to find out that his name was John Harrison. After all those hours of research, she was still not sure what he was doing or even where he came from. Everything about him was as covered up by false trails and identities as the new project. Carol told herself that she was able to figure things out for herself. That she just needed to be careful that her father would not find out about her inquiries. John Harrison was the last person she should ask, yet he was occupying her thoughts more and more.