Work Text:
Tilly was on a roll. It was one of those mornings, her mind flitting from subject to subject, while Michael merely had to sit back and make appropriate noises every once in a while, hiding her amusement. Topics already covered: that it was possible the foundation of the mycelial network was actually excrement, a ranking of the best karaoke bars in San Francisco, and post-Red Angel vacation plans to Risa because it was criminal they'd never been to the newly-admitted Federation planet and also beaches.
And shift hadn't even started yet.
"Do you think Captain Pike dates?"
Michael's attention snapped back to Tilly, her senses suddenly alert. Tilly didn't seem to notice, shoving a bite of egg whites in her mouth, chewing while she waited on Michael's answer.
Michael...had no answer. She very specifically and purposefully stayed away from such thoughts about the captain. They were...unproductive.
"Why do you ask?" she deflected, sipping her tea.
"I don't know, it's just. Now that I'm in the Command Training Program I've been thinking about it and how would a captain date?"
"The usual way, I suspect."
"But take Captain Pike. He looks like that, he's in charge of the Enterprise, and he's still single."
Michael frowned. This was a suspicious amount of intel. "How do you know he's single?"
"Nhan and I had drinks." Tilly seemed to realize what she said and rushed to reassure: "Healthy ones. Totally healthy, the right balance of phytonutrients and everything. Barely any alcohol at all."
"Uh-huh. Well, perhaps Captain Pike's social life is a conscious choice and not a lack." Michael shifted, uncomfortable thinking about this. Or, more specifically, uncomfortable about Tilly's interest in this.
"Oh, come on. Does he strike you as the kind of guy who wants to be alone?"
Michael stilled. Tilly obviously wouldn't be letting this go. It was time for Michael to gather her own intel, whatever her personal feelings may be.
Not that there were personal feelings, of course.
"Ensign, are you harboring certain...affections for the captain?" Michael asked, keeping her voice light. Or trying to.
Tilly's eyes widened, clearly surprised that Michael would even think that. "Huh? No." She considered it for a moment and then laughed. "I mean, let's be real, I wouldn't kick him out of bed, but it's just...when I'm a captain will I be alone?"
Michael's shoulders released as she realized where this was coming from. It wasn't about Pike at all. Tilly was envisioning what her future would look like. That was good; that was healthy.
And whether it was about Pike or not made no difference to Michael, of course.
Tilly remained oblivious to Michael's thoughts, continuing on: "Like, how can you expect people to hit on the captain, the person in charge of everyone's lives? It's not like anyone's propositioning Pike, even with all his integrity and stupidly perfect face and really soft hands."
Michael stared, at a loss. But in the silence—
A throat cleared behind them. "Commander Burnham, a word?"
A rush of heat careened through Michael as she turned, Tilly following suit, to find Captain Pike standing there. The amused sparkle in his eyes said he hadn't missed that.
Michael glanced at Tilly, actually seeing the moment the humiliation hit home. "I did it again," she muttered, like even she couldn't believe it.
Her pratfalls really were impressive when you considered things like probabilities. In fact, Tilly had likely done that math, knowing her. Michael would have to ask about it sometime.
"Of course, Captain. Ensign," she nodded to Tilly as she stood and exited, figuring it would be best to move the captain away and spare her any further humiliation.
Pike fell in with her, nodding to crew members as they walked. "Any update on the repairs below deck?"
Relief swept through Michael. Yes, work was an excellent topic. Everyone should talk more about work and less about sleeping with single, attractive, honorable captains.
"Engineering expects the primary repairs to be completed within the next forty-eight, but there are a few specialized parts the replicators can't synthesize and we don't have in stock," Michael said as she followed Pike through the halls, headed toward the turbolifts. "It's nothing that can't wait, but the Chief is requesting we stop at a starbase to resupply when we get the chance."
Pike nodded as they stepped onto a just-emptying turbolift, smiling in greeting at the crew clearing out. "Well, that shouldn't be a problem given the current lull in our mission." He indicated the bridge as their destination and the doors closed, sealing the two of them in.
Michael nodded, but there wasn't much to say to that.
"So, Ensign Tilly..." Pike offered into the silence.
"Ensign Tilly," Michael agreed, not wanting to engage.
"Anything I need to handle there?"
Michael's gut lurched. Was he interested in—
But no, one look at Pike showed only concern and mild bemusement in his expression. Relieved, Michael shook her head. "Not at all, Captain." She tilted her head, conveying girls will be girls with a look.
Pike seemed to get it, flashing a grin. "I trust your judgment, Commander, in this as in all things."
Michael hated how much she liked the warmth that slipped through her. It felt...unnecessary to want his approval, so she couldn't quite square the pleasure it gave her. And thinking on it too much got...distracting.
"She does raise a salient point, however," Pike continued.
Why was he talking about this? Michael didn't want to talk about this. Her whole goal was to stop talking about this.
"Oh?" she asked, noncommittal.
"Being on the command track does affect your personal relationships."
"Naturally," Michael said, hoping that would satisfy him.
No such luck: "As captain, you're always conscious of abuse of power. Or even just the allure of it. Some people find power itself...seductive."
Michael stared at him for a moment, seductive ringing in her ears. Without thinking it through: "But not you."
Pike tipped his head toward her. "Nor you," he said, low, voice full of something Michael couldn't name. Or maybe it was that she didn't want to.
Did this have to be the slowest turbolift in history?
Pike still wasn't done: "But it's good that Tilly's thinking about this now. I've been musing on it myself recently."
Michael's eyes widened, heart rate picking up. Pike didn't talk aimlessly; he was always deliberate, if usually more direct. This was starting to feel...pointed. "Have you."
"As captain, your approach would need to have a light touch. Something like..." Pike trailed off, thinking. Then he turned toward Michael, taking a step closer, into her personal space. He gazed at her evenly, that something in his eyes now. "Everything about you fascinates me. With no obligation, or censure, I'd like it if you'd join me in my quarters this evening." The low rumble of his voice zinged through her, mind flashing to slick skin, sweat-soaked sheets, the hot tangle of mouths.
Michael swallowed her suddenly dry throat, unable to look away. The silence between them stretched...
"That would do it," she finally managed, her voice halfway even, a small victory considering the hammering in her chest, the rushing sound in her ears drowning out everything else. Everything but him.
Pike studied her, unreadable. He hmmed and stepped back just as the turbolift slowed, opening on the bridge. "I trust your judgment, Commander," he repeated, soft, eyes straight ahead.
Then he was gone, striding out onto the bridge, checking in with his people, the confidence of command written in every line of his body.
Michael gasped in a breath, her carefully-maintained denial crashing down around her as she suddenly wanted, consciously, definably.
Pike's offer echoed through her, elegant in its simplicity, in its deniability. A gauntlet thrown, pitting Michael's caution against this pulsing thing now awake in her chest.
On the bridge, Saru looked back at her, curious. "Commander Burnham? Are you quite all right?"
Michael forced a smile and nodded, noting how heads turned to look, including Pike's, his eyes steady on her, banked heat obvious now that she let herself see it. She wanted to crawl into his lap and bask in that heat; she wanted to flee and hide from the burn.
She wanted.
***
Fin. Feedback is adored.