Another silent fight. Another long session of staring helplessly into the eyes of a man she had once thought she loved and seeing nothing but guilt and embarrassment – enforced distance, even distaste – gazing back at her. He blamed her for his marriage problems; he clung to another woman half the universe away. He'd closed himself off completely from her. Worse, he was closing himself off from everyone.

His behavior had become increasingly erratic lately; in fact, he'd sounded outright paranoid at times. That scared her. She'd always considered him a reliable leader and someone she trusted, but that had eroded away. He'd slowly chipped away at it until there was nothing left and she was faced with the tough decision of how to handle the present situation alone. Would she – could she – question the Colonel's mental health? But after Spencer's death due to lack of action – on Everett's part, on her own part - she was too worried to ignore the obvious warning signs.

Tamara hurried down the long corridor, ignoring a tendered greeting by someone she didn't even see, her mind in turmoil. There was only one person she could speak to and even that would difficult. Dr. Rush wasn't the easiest person to approach and she knew he thought she was blindly loyal to Everett with whom he was almost invariably at odds. And Everett would see it as the ultimate betrayal. Yet, she felt strongly that this had to be done.

Despite all the stress and danger and strain, Rush had remained calm and controlled. The man had been accidentally left for dead after a rockslide on a desert planet and had still found his own way back to Destiny. He was brilliant: always thinking, always analyzing, always utterly pragmatic. He was treated like a pariah at best and yet he always came through for them in a crisis. He was an enigma, eccentric and idiosyncratic, but also a tower of strength. She desperately needed that strength, that wisdom, that practical judgment.

Yet the moment she walked into the control room, she found that very same utterly rational man completely flustered and flushed, trying to fend off Lisa Park. The pretty, bouncy geologist was just about throwing herself at him and Rush looked like he'd rather be stuck back on that planet. In fact he looked like he was just about to explode.

It was hard not to laugh, but sympathy overcame amusement, just barely, and given that combination of relieving emotions, Tamara just couldn't help herself.

Stepping into the room, she called out "Nicholas?" When he turned a pair of huge, brown, pleading eyes on her, gratefully taking the excuse to slip further away from Park, she gave him her warmest smile, went to him, and slid her arms around his neck.

Darling, did you forget to eat again?" she asked, leaning in to kiss him on the mouth. She'd meant it to be a light brush, but the contact was electric, hot and sweet, his lips moving softly under hers. His hair was silken soft as it curled over her hands on the nape of his neck, and his arms closed around her. She could feel a half-smile curving his lips as he responded to her kiss; yes, he was a clever man, he knew instantly what she was doing.

It should still have remained a fleeting kiss, a gimmick to fend off Park, but it deepened as she melted into him, her mouth opening to his, tasting his lips, his breath. His embrace tightened and she threaded a hand through his hair, feeling it tumble through her fingers. His tongue tangled with hers and her entire body shivered. He felt so good, warm and hard and male. She had forgotten how good it felt to be held like this, to be kissed like this, like she was a delicious treat to be savoured. He was thorough and deliberate in his exploration of her mouth and she clung to him, offered herself up to him.

There was something strange in this; she'd never even considered it with this man. She'd never even stopped to think of him as an emotional being, much less a sexual one. He was so acutely intellectual; his genius mind combined with an acerbic wit and a fiercely solitary nature to define him so completely that she had never been aware of him in this way before. Yet, now, it seemed so natural, so inevitable, so perfect to dissolve in his arms and abandon herself to him.

She was so lost in the moment that she was shocked when he stopped kissing her. She protested wordlessly, trying to pull his mouth back down on hers, and was rewarded with a slight brush of his lips over hers before he looked up and over her shoulder.

Awareness slowly flooded back and her cheeks flushed as she remembered they had an audience; that this had started purely as a performance for that audience. Swearing mentally at herself, she forced herself to turn around, relieved when Rush didn't release his hold on her, continued to embrace her, support her. She could lean back against him as she met Park's stunned eyes. That felt good –too good –a possessiveness she didn't know she was capable of made her wrap her hands over Rush's forearms, holding them to her, a satisfied, predatory smile she wouldn't have recognized as her own curling her lips as she stared at the other woman.

"I'm sorry, Lisa, did I interrupt your work?" she asked, almost purring as Rush's chin settled on her shoulder, his long bangs brushing against her cheek.

"No, no, I mean, I was just, you know, going… to do some work… on something," Park stammered, blushing with obvious discomfort and edging towards the door. "I'll just – uhh – leave you, you know, get going." She scurried out of the room.

Rush's deep chuckle sounded in Tamara's ear. "Thank you," he said. "I wasn't sure I'd get out of that in one piece." His grip loosened and she turned back to him, almost afraid to meet those penetrating, dark eyes of his, but he was smiling at her with a warmth she'd never seen before on his expressive face. It was infectious; she had to smile back.

"You're welcome. I'm afraid she's become a bit of a problem," she replied ruefully.

His mouth twisted into a more wry expression. "Plenty of those around here."

She nodded, her stomach beginning clench as her reasons for seeking him out returned in full force.

"Dr. Rush," she began.

"Nicholas," he interrupted. Again, there was that surprisingly gentle smile from him. "I think you've earned that."

And again, she had to smile back. It was hard not to reach for him; once stirred, that surprising attraction rapidly solidified into need, but it would have to wait. There was a flicker on something in his eyes, the furrows around his mouth deepening, and she knew he understood. So observant, his mind was scarily fast, yet that was the very reason she'd come to him.

"Nicholas," she corrected herself, enjoying the way his name sounded on her tongue – she could still taste him – "We need to talk. Privately."

He nodded. All business now. Serious and intent, he took her elbow and guided her from the room.

---

Almost certainly TBC