50 Ways to Leave Your Lover
Summary: Kathryn Janeway can’t help breaking hearts, but at least she never does it the same way twice.
Characters: Janeway, Johnson
Codes: Janeway/Johnson
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Paramount. I'm just having a little twisted fun with them.
Notes: When I posted A Long Journey on tumblr, @caladeniablue asked 'Fic to go with this?' and it got me thinking. This is the result. (If you have a request for a lover Kathryn could leave, email me!)
Rated M
six | Mark Johnson
Requested by @purpledog47.
~*~
She caught sight of him moving through the bedroom behind her and turned from the mirror. “Did you find it?”
Mark held up a handful of pink satin. “This one, right?”
“Thanks, honey,” she mumbled through a mouthful of hairpins. “Could you put it in my bag?”
He tossed the nightgown into her duffel as she faced back to the mirror, winding the last long coil of hair into her bun and pinning it securely. Pyjamas, she mentally ticked off her list, toothbrush, lip balm, shampoo …
Warm arms circled her waist from behind and she felt him kiss his way upward along the slender stretch of spine exposed by the unfastened back of her turtleneck. His lips found that spot that made her close her eyes just as his hands cupped her breasts.
“Mark,” she sighed, “I wish we had time.”
“You’re the captain,” he murmured, kissing her neck. “You can make the time.”
She tried to stifle a moan as he untucked her shirt and slid his hands under it, his thumbs teasing her nipples into points beneath her satin bra.
“Come on, Kath,” he nipped her earlobe, “it’ll be weeks before I see you again.”
Sighing, she leaned into him and let her head fall back onto his shoulder, let him slide his right hand down to unzip her pants while his left pinched gently at her nipples. “You’ll mess up my hair,” she pretended to pout.
“Cut it short. No mess, no fuss.”
She smiled. “You’d hate it. You only love me for my long hair.”
“Not true,” he nipped at her jaw, “I just have a thing for women in uniform.”
She laughed.
“Open your legs for me, Kath,” Mark coaxed. “Let me make you come.”
She spread her legs, and only moments later dissolved into a flurry of shudders and staccato sighs under his practiced, talented hands.
Ten minutes later, hair smooth and uniform crisp, she slung her carrybag over her shoulder and rested a hand on his chest.
“Thanks,” she said.
“For what?”
“For the trouble I’m going to have keeping my mind off you while we’re apart,” she grinned crookedly at him, turning to leave.
He caught her hand and reeled her back in, and Kathryn let her duffel fall to the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck. His lips on hers were warm, assured, familiar.
She was smiling as they parted. She rested her hand against his cheek.
“See you in a few weeks,” she said softly. “Don’t miss me too much.”
Then she picked up her bag and strode through the door, her mind already on Voyager’s mission to the Badlands.