K'Ehleyr smiled over at me in reply, as if she was used to this question, and I'm sure she was. She probably got it often in Starfleet. "Actually, the DNA is compatible -- with a fair amount of help." She grinned and then continued, "Rather like my parents."

I smiled at her again, and as we neared the guest quarters, I explained my interest. "I know exactly what you mean. My father was human... and my mother is a Betazoid."

Her demeanor brightened immediately, as if she was relieved to know that she was not the only `hybrid' on board the ship. "Really! It was the other way around for me -- my mother was human." We'd stopped walking, standing outside of her quarters while we talked. She paused for a moment, and I could sense some growing discomfort in her, but she seemed happier than before, now that she'd realized we had a bit more common ground than she'd thought. "You must've grown up like I did-- trapped between cultures."

I thought for a moment. My childhood was a very pleasant one, if saddened by the death of my father when I was so young. Before his death, I supposed that I may have sometimes felt trapped between the two conflicting methods of my parents, but not really their cultures. I told her such. "I never felt trapped," I said, and I felt her enthusiasm droop just a little, but not much. "I tried to experience the… richness and diversity of two worlds."

K'Ehleyr shook her head at me in what I would describe as wonder. "Perhaps you got the best of each...." I smiled and thought to myself, considering whether or not that was really true. It would have been far more convenient for my line of work if I'd been full Betazoid, able to not only sense emotions but thoughts. Right now, for instance, I was dying to know what she was thinking, as I noticed her eyes hovering over me for a just the slightest bit longer than was necessary. She was relieved to find another hybrid, alright.

I led the way inside as she followed me, and she continued talking. "Myself, I think I got the worst of each."

I looked at her appraisingly, watching the way her ridges perked just a little when she smiled, the way her face curved with human smoothness and mixed with Klingon fierceness in a way that was very becoming. "Oh, I doubt that," I said, smiling tenderly at her. It was hard to see how such a lovely woman could think that she had gotten the raw end of her parent's genes.

"Oh, yes," she explained, her eyes widening in explanation. "Having my mother's sense of humor is bad enough -- it's gotten me into plenty of trouble."

I quite liked her sense of humor; what little I'd seen of it anyway, but decided to leave off telling her that for the moment. I felt the unanswered question in the air, and my demeanor changed a little. Her response had seemed to taper off at the end, and I couldn't help but rise to the bait. "And your Klingon side?"

She took a small breath before replying and crossed her arms over her chest. When it came, however, her answer was quick, as if she wanted to breeze right through the subject. Obviously, this side of her was not something she was proud of. "That, I keep under tight control. It's like a terrible temper --it's not something I want people to see."

I could sense her agitation, but I really didn't understand why having a little anger would be a terrible thing. I'd seen Worf in battle, of course, but his Klingon rage always seemed to be an advantage. "Everyone has tempers..."

I'd intended to say more, but she cut me off, and I again got the impression that this was something she really didn't want to talk about. "Not like mine," she said, somewhat snappishly. "Sometimes I feel there's a monster inside of me, fighting to get out."

I could understand that, but I still felt that there was more to this than she was saying. As a counselor, it's always my job to get people to talk about things they don't want to, and so I pressed on, stating the obvious so that she could easily fill in the blanks. That tactic always works surprisingly well. "And it frightens you."

She nodded, but looked at me as if I'd grown three more heads. "Of course it does," she stated simply, and her unease was growing in leaps and bounds. "My Klingon side can be …terrifying… even to me."

"It gives you strength," I countered. "It's a part of you."

K'Ehleyr smiled again, and I was warmed by the sight. However much her Klingon side made her uneasy, her human sense of humor was obviously well-tuned. And very infectious; I couldn't help but smile in return. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

My head turned a little to one side as I reflected. "No, I suppose it doesn't."

There was a small pause in the conversation, and I moved further inside the room, feeling her eyes on me as I walked. "I'm sure you know your way around a replicator," I said, and she chuckled a little. "Is there anything else you need right now?"

She seemed to consider a moment, her eyes looking almost heated as she regarded me, and I felt a similar heat rise to my cheeks in what I sincerely hoped was an unnoticeable blush. K'Ehleyr was practically radiating with emotional responses from the possibilities of those `anything elses' I'd offered. Gradually, however, she seemed to make a decision. "No, thank you, Counselor," she stated almost too politely.

I nodded, a little disappointed that she'd not said what she'd probably been thinking, but I understood. I had to remind myself that very rarely was it that humanoids other than Betazoids acted on what they felt. I moved slowly towards the door. "In that case, I'll leave you to get settled." Not, of course, as though she had any possessions with her. Class Eight probes weren't equipped to carry a full wardrobe.

She nodded simply, and a hint of sadness leaked from her. "Thank you for your help, Counselor."

I smiled warmly at her, but decided that I shouldn't press her. Most humanoids aren't as free with their sexuality as Betazoids are, either. The doors opened for me and I stepped out. As I left, I felt a strange spike of emotion from the woman behind me, and I suppressed a grin as I realized the cause.

She'd been staring appraisingly at my rear end, and apparently, she approved.

********************

She was angry, I'd just gotten off duty, and almost without thinking about it, I was on my way to her quarters. As I traveled down in the turbolift directly from the main bridge, I stopped myself, wondering why I was going to see her, when she was obviously furious and she'd warned me about how terrible her Klingon side was. As the turbolift slid to a halt, I shrugged my shoulders. I'd never really been able to resist quenching my curiosity. What would a half-Klingon woman do when her anger and frustration built up to the boiling point?

I rang the door chime, and from within, I could feel as much as hear the impatience in her voice as she growled and exclaimed. "Come!"

Deciding not to take her up on the literal sense of that word, I entered into her quarters slowly, standing just inside the door for a moment. Apparently, when angry, a half-Klingon smashes her fist into an unsuspecting glass table. How interesting. After a small moment had passed, I stepped fully into the room, and regarded her face. "You're upset," I said simply. Again, stating the obvious really does work.

With her tone practically dripping with angered sarcasm, K'Ehleyr groaned. "Your finely-honed Betazoid sense tell you that?"

"Well," I replied, a slightly amused undertone to my voice. "That, and the table."

She couldn't help but chuckle at that, and I smiled softly in return, breathing a tiny sigh of relief. Her anger was receding, slowly. She took a deep breath, and then smiled again. I so enjoyed seeing her do that. "I warned you about my Klingon half."

I chuckled softly in reply, and nodded ever so slightly. "May I make a suggestion?" My hand rose in the way that it does when I'm trying to help people who think they don't really need help.

Her shoulders slumped a little, and she spoke in a somewhat breathy tone. "I thank you, Counselor. But I don't want any counseling."

"Actually, I was going to suggest something else." I don't usually like being as direct as I was about to be, but I had to admit, she was stunning when she was angry. And, though I was pretty sure that her meeting with Worf is what had made her so angry in the first place, it was obviously not the only reason why she was so frustrated.

"Oh?"

I grinned suggestively in reply.

********************

My uniform lay in tatters on the floor where she'd left it, having ripped it from my body while I'd lain squirming beneath her. Her clothing was not far away, in fewer pieces, but still rendered past the wearable point. Betazoids can be quite passionate as well.

Now we moved together, panting, our sweaty skin pressing tightly against one another as we moved on the floor, never having made it as far as the bedroom. I was on top now, my hands moving over her skin as she groaned with a strained voice, gasping and whispering as my hands hovered over her breasts.

The first two times had been chaotic, our pleasures wrapped in one another as we pushed and clawed and bit and kissed and pushed our way to bliss, her pleasure and desire wrapping itself around my brain until I was biting and clawing too. We were both covered with tiny scratch-marks, and I knew later we'd both have interesting stories to tell Beverly. But now was my turn to lead, and I was looking forward to exploring her human side in greater detail.

She slipped back into the calmer of her personas easily, mewing like a small feline as my mouth gently slid over a mocha-colored nipple, licking and suckling tenderly on the soft bud. She whispered my name where she'd screamed it before, and I felt the same thrill wash over me at the sound. I could never get tired of hearing my name on her lips. My lips kissed their way over to her other breast, red and raw from my earlier ministrations. Now I gently kissed every scratch, my tongue sliding gingerly over the marks I'd made on her skin.

My hands traveled her body of their own volition; hers were tangled in my thick hair that had come loose somewhere in our first or second frenzied lovemaking. Fingers finally settling around her hips, I moved upwards and tenderly captured her lips in my own. Our previous couplings had been so frantic, so terribly, wonderfully intense; but the downside was that they'd lasted for only a short time. This time, I intended to savor every inch of her. Her lips parted for my tongue, and I teased her with it, sliding the muscle over her lips before slipping it between. I explored every inch of her mouth, my tongue sliding over her teeth with no further fear of being bitten. The time for that had ceased. For the moment, anyway.

Our tongues merged in her mouth, and then in mine as my fingers slipped up and down her sides, moving as if to some unheard song. They found her breasts again, and rolled her sensitive nipples as we kissed. The kiss broke, and my lips caressed their way down her neck, nibbling over every dark bite mark that had driven her wild before. The ones gracing my own neck burned dimly at the memory.

She'd found her hands again, and they slipped down my back as I traveled over her sweaty skin, lapping at the bend of her neck, kissing each breast lovingly as I slid down lower and lower. My fingers halted their own descent at her inner thighs, and they trembled at every tiny caress. She murmured softly against me, and I felt the vibrations in her diaphragm as I lightly nibbled over her stomach. She was whimpering, or whispering, or both. It didn't really matter; I felt her need, and it blended with my own as my lips and tongue moved down ever further.

My fingers played over her heat, and dipped slowly within, coming back wet. I murmured appreciatively. Being with her was so incredibly intense, even now with the fervent and chaotic phase behind us. I slid a single finger fully within her, and felt rather than heard her moan. I smiled against her skin, my tongue sliding over her navel and then lower, pausing just over the heated flesh of her sex.

A second finger joined the first within her, and then a third, and I filled her slowly, gently, taking my time with each slow, sensual thrust. K'Ehleyr's moans were increasing now, and I knew that she wouldn't last much longer. Her emotions were once again merging into mine, and we shared the next deep-throated moan, my lips finally coming into contact with her heated, wet flesh. My fingers slid out of her, and she whimpered quietly with need, her fingers once again entangling themselves in my hair.

The fingers were replaced with my tongue, and she groaned wildly, her desire flowing freely into my own. I teased her a little, smiling against her skin as she trembled, my tongue lapping at her outer folds impishly. She began to thrash against me in her need, pressing me closer to her. I continued to play over her just a little, and felt her growing frustration merge in with my desire. Before her reaction took over completely, I thrust my tongue to full extension within her, lapping hungrily at her folds. She gasped and moaned, trembling beneath me as I suckled and thrust my tongue into her, feeling her getting closer and closer with each movement of my tongue. My fingers reached in, rubbing gently over her extended clitoris and then pinching it.

She was now trembling uncontrollably, each thrust and motions of fingers and tongue drawing another strangled gasp from her roughened voice. She was gasping my name out again, and each strained whisper brought shivers down my spine as I pleasured her, my chin dripping with her essence. Finally, my tongue and fingers switched places, and I attacked her clitoris with my lips and teeth, my fingers pumping deep within her and hitting the sensitive spots within her clenching walls.

The half-Klingon panted out roughly, and I could feel her trying to hold off, wanting it to last. I pressed myself further into her, adding another finger into her trembling heat, and it was too much for her to bear, just as I knew it would be. Her body shook and trembled, and, screaming out my name again, her ecstasy filled my senses. I almost reached orgasm with her, but stopped myself, wanting to enjoy her this way as every lick and touch of my fingers sent her reeling, making her pleasure last as long as possible before finally spending itself and leaving my lover panting and sweaty with exertion.

Slowly, I slid out of her, crawling my way up her tremulous body to place my lips sweetly against her own. She answered the kiss weakly, gasping out every so often and forcing the kiss to be cut short as she recovered. I smiled against her, resting my head against her breasts as I waited. Her fingers slid out of my hair and caressed my cheeks, my chin, slipping down my back and exploring the scratch marks she'd left there earlier. For all my empathy and Betazoid passion, I had far more marks than she did.

Her panting grew to a gradual close, and she held me against her, rolling us gently over so that she lay atop of me. Her lips closed over mine, gently and tenderly at first. We shared the taste of one another in our mouths, and I murmured appreciatively. Then the kiss grew rougher, and rougher still, and I smiled against her rapidly moving lips. Apparently, her Klingon side had more sway over her carnal desires than we'd both thought. As my body thrummed and ached with its own need, I growled against her lips and teeth, and the sound spurred her on. Her fingers and fingernails started moving over me in frenzy, and I reciprocated, pressing myself against her as lips and tongue broke away from mine and moved down to my breasts. Her teeth left bright welts against the alabaster of my skin, and I growled in reply, sliding my fingernails in paths down the smoothness of her back.

Ferocity. Tenderness. Passion. Our Human and Klingon and Betazoid halves fought for dominance as we pushed and kissed and controlled one another.

It would be a very, very long night.

I was looking forward to it.