I make a stop to get some food and then head back over to Ryuth's cave. I wouldn't usually go back so soon after my last visit, but my time is limited now.

They could decide to exile Ryuth tomorrow.

I can't let that happen.

I need to spend even more time with him. If that means getting a little less sleep, so be it. He needs someone to be there for him, to champion him. I don't see anyone else stepping up to the plate.

When I arrive, he isn't raging against the bars like he is a lot of the time.

No, he's pacing inside the cell like a caged animal, his muscled body moving with liquid grace. His head whips around as I approach, but he doesn't rush over. Instead, he crouches, his messy hair partially covering his face as his glittering eyes watch me enter.

I have to push aside the disconcerting feeling that he’s a predator hunting its prey. Me. I’m the prey. I can't let the episode earlier scare me.

"Hey, Ryuth," I say, giving him a strained smile as I close the gate. Having him escape now will for sure seal his fate.

I take a step to where the table is supposed to be, but then realize it's currently lying on its side near the gate.

Wonderful.

Sighing, I set the plate down next to the wall and arduously push the table back over to where it's supposed to be. I can feel the weight of his gaze on me as I move.

"You're going to have to start doing a better job of controlling your anger," I say as I try to push the table back upright. "If that means you have to break out the Force, you're welcome to call me Yoda." I grip the tabletop on both sides, heaving it finally back in place. I'm surprised it didn't completely break the gate when he threw it.

I pick the plate up and bring it back over to the table. Ryuth follows me in a low crouch, keeping some distance between us as he studies what I'm doing. Turning to my shadow, I brace my hands on my hips.

"Do you know what that show earlier has gotten you?" I demand. "Bashir ran right to Ragnar to complain about you. He said you're lost to your bijass. That you're a drain on resources and you're never going to get better. That we should exile you so you can fend for yourself. Though I think he used the words 'set you free'," I add in air quotes.

I snort as I turn to drag the tossed about furs back to the bed.

"Set you free, my ass," I mutter. "You have to be on your best behavior from now on. I don't care who shows up," I warn.

When I look back over at him, I see him hovering near the food.

"All right," I say, relenting. "Food first."

I grab the chairs next and set them in their proper places. He comes closer when I sit down, knowing the drill. I feed him. His eyes watch me as he chews. He can eat on his own. But me feeding him has really helped him become accustomed to being closer to me. And I feel like it's teaching him some control.

Or I'm just kidding myself. I don't even know anymore.

I look into his eyes. Is there a little more of him in there than there was before? Or is that just wishful thinking? I consider him as he eats, which he does surprisingly quickly and neatly for someone who's supposed to be so far gone.

I get the broom I set down near the gate. Sand gets everywhere here. I start sweeping, the handle smooth against my palm, wondering how I'm going to kick-start Ryuth's recovery when nothing has made a significant improvement in all this time.

Is he really a lost cause? Am I wasting my time here? How can I reach the man I know is lurking in there? And do I really know he’s in there, or is that also just hope run amok?

Ryuth starts his familiar humming once again, the low tone soothing.

I join in, glancing over at him as I continue to sweep. He's watching me, but that's no surprise. He usually is when I'm in here with him. At first, it made me somewhat uncomfortable. But now I've kind of gotten used to it.

No, the surprise is that I wasn't mistaken before. Humming along with him seems to reach something inside him. His eyes are definitely clearer, his whole demeanor more alert while also being more relaxed. Something about having the song replayed for him stimulates his brain in a different way. A way that he seems to be responding to.

What is it about the song that has this effect? Is it because it's something familiar to him? Or is it simpler than that? Maybe he just likes the sound. Or it's different enough that it catches his attention. Activates a section of his brain that isn't normally engaged.

I think about that, turning the thought over in my mind, examining it.

Maybe I need to find more novel ways of reaching the parts of his brain that aren't activating? The parts where his higher-thinking self is buried. There's nothing wrong with his senses. He's been hearing everything, but only the song got through to him. Let's see. There's also taste, smell, vision.

Touch.

I bite my lip as I look over at him.

Touch is the easiest thing I could try right now. Though it doesn't seem like the smartest idea. Yes, he hasn't hurt me.

Yet.

But what if getting closer, close enough to really touch him, will set off some kind of defensive instinct? Or what if he just doesn't like how it feels and lashes out in response?

He could hurt me.

Hurt me badly.

He's so much bigger. Whatever hurt him mentally has had no effect on the strength in his big, scarred body, the body that tells only part of the tale of all that must have been done to him by his captors.

I set the broom aside, rubbing my palms on my pants, made of that mesh material that allows air circulation in this heat. This might not work. I could be taking a risk for nothing. But I have to at least try.

And the more I think about it, the more viable the idea seems.

Humans are creatures of touch, and from what I've seen, so are the Zmaj. If Ryuth has only been touched with violence for years upon years . . . maybe a gentle touch will reach the wounded part of him hiding inside. The part that also responds to a song from his childhood.

Maybe it will at least offer him some comfort, something he badly needs and I want to give.

I close the distance between us gingerly. He stills as I approach, his eyes locking on me. I carefully kneel next, licking my lips. His eyes watch the movement and he tilts his head, his expression almost curious.

Okay.

Here we are.

I stare back at him thinking about how to proceed.

A verbal warning might be a good idea, even if he can't understand me.

"I'm going to touch you now, Ryuth," I say. "Please don't kill me. That really won't help your case," I add with a little smile.

Morbid but true.

I watch his face as I extend my hand out, palm up. It feels less threatening that way somehow. It's trembling a little, but I can't help that. I'm nervous even though I'm trying not to show it.

His eyes move away from my face to my approaching hand. He freezes in place as it nears. But he doesn't move away.

I hesitate a centimeter away from touching his forearm.

In for a penny.

I touch him.

He frowns, but he doesn't make any other move, looking up at me, confused. Wondering what all the fuss was about, maybe?

I'll take it.

I watch him, feeling his cool arm underneath my touch, the hard muscle indicating exactly how strong he is. I brave a little more, moving my hand up and down in a caress, watching his face for his reaction.

He blinks.

Again, he doesn't pull away. But there's also no other response to the light touch. Maybe I need to do more? Something more stimulating? It's my turn to frown as I think about that. I scan his face, taking in the nuances of his reaction.

And my eyes fall on his lips.

My heartbeat speeds up.

A kiss?

Maybe a kiss would work.

It's more intimate, definitely.

And just the idea of it has me going already. Maybe the shock of it will reach him. And there's no denying that I've been wanting to kiss him, touch him. But it's even more dangerous than the light touching I'm doing now.

What if he doesn't like it?

I wait another minute, thinking it over. Am I going to risk it?

I bite my lip and his eyes drop down to the gesture. There's a glimmer of . . . something in them. Something new. That decides me.

"I'd really appreciate it if you don't bite me," I say in a low voice as I lean in to him. "That would be a real bummer."

His eyes move to mine as I stop a hairsbreadth away from his lips.

I can feel his clean breath against me.

I close my eyes.

This is it.

I press my lips against his cool, soft ones.

And freeze like that, waiting to see if he decides now is a good time to throw me away from him. Or crush my head like a watermelon, maybe. He has the biceps to do it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Nothing happens.

His lips stay still under mine.

Okay.

I push further. Because, hell, why not? I'm already in the lion's den. I kiss his upper lip. And then his plush lower lip. I lick at the seam where they join, hoping for some kind of response.

But he simply holds himself still. Like he doesn't want me to touch him, but he's too polite to stop me? At that thought, I pull back, looking away from him.

"I'm sorry, I thought—"

I still as his hand reaches up to slide into my hair, cupping the back of my head. My eyes shift to his face, surprised at his tender touch. His eyes are on my lips as he draws me back in with that hand, his other arm sliding around my waist to press me fully against his front. A lot more contact than I'd made.

My heart pounds in my chest.

And then he kisses me.

And man, he doesn't hold back.

The switch from stoic Spock to passionate Kirk is so fast I’m dizzy.

I make a sound at the back of my throat as his tongue slides right into my mouth, as practiced and sure as if he does it every day. It tangles with mine as my hands come up to hold onto his shoulders. Heat courses through me as I kiss him back, feel the odd beat of two hearts against my chest.

Oh.

Oh, yes.

This is what I want.

Thoughts of saving him, of reaching the man inside fade away as the kiss sweeps me away. In that moment, I'm just a woman and he's just a man. And we're just kissing because we want to. We're not locked away in this cell and there's nothing wrong.

He parts my legs with his thigh and I’m straddling him, bent backwards with the weight of his body. A gasp escapes my throat as I feel his truly impressive, almost scary erection.

All right.

Maybe he's not just a man.