Summary: When the pathfinder is away, Dr. Harry Carlyle pushes himself to the point of exhaustion. Usually it is a welcome respite, but in one instance it proves to be an impediment.

a/n: This was written as a treat for vorchagirl for the 2017 Spectre Requisitions.

Intruder

-1-

The rattling of glass tinkled in the back of his brain. A not-quite-conscious part of him was vaguely aware that someone was moving around him. Even still that didn't cut through the exhausted haze of sleep. Though he stirred a bit, it did little to rouse him. His brain dragged all the sounds and sensations into his dreamy state. At least until the smell of coffee brewing finally tempted him from his unconsciousness. Harry Carlyle dragged his head off the mattress with curious but still very tired wonder.

Why did he smell coffee? He rolled the question around in his sluggish brain, resigning himself to the idea that he'd set a timer before passing out on the bed. Though he remembered nothing of it. As his mind slowly came around, he noticed he was strewn across the bed at an odd diagonal, still in his clothes from the long day before.

The clinking of ceramic on the other side of the wall left Harry Carlyle scrambling to his feet. Clearly, he had not set the timer, someone was in his quarters. Sobering quickly, he grabbed the lamp off the bedside table. With careful steps, he approached the edge of the wall that opened to the rest of his quaint home on the Hyperion.

He jumped out with a yell.

The intruder screamed and dropped a mug of coffee. Shards exploded from the vessel in a splash of scalding black liquid. "Damnit," Cassie said. She stared at the floor, trying to find a save spot to move in her barefooted state.

"Cassie?" Dropping the lamp, Harry, who was still fully dressed, walked across the floor and lifted her onto the counter. "What are you doing here?"

He hadn't been expecting her. And in truth finding Cassie in his kitchenette in naught but a pair of skimpy briefs and a tank top did more to start his morning on a high note than coffee ever could have. She scooted onto the counter, opening her legs to allow him to step between them.

"I was trying to surprise you."

"Mission accomplished," he said with a laugh. "Sorry, I scared you. I thought you might be someone … with nefarious intent," he said, clambering for an answer.

"Yeah, well. See if I try to make you breakfast again," she huffed at him, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting at him.

Harry leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on the lip jutting out past the other. Her smile inspired one of his own.

"This is a very nice surprise," he said, trying to make up for the fright.

"I thought so until someone jumped out at me, planning to …" She eyed the lamp on the floor then looked back up into his face, draping her arms around his neck. "And just what were you planning on doing to me with that lamp? Old school interrogation?"

"I grabbed the first weapon I had handy."

She pulled a face and gave him a nod. "I guess in a pinch you might have blinded an assailant, or at least made them have to blink a lot."

Harry's hands went right for her ribs and she dissolved into a writhing mass of giggles. "I'll have you know, lamp or no, I could have handled you, if you were an intruder."

"Okay. Okay. Stop. Please stop, Harry," she howled amid bright peeling laughter that warmed his heart and danced along his spine.

He complied, placing his hands on either side of her on the counter and leaning forward. She draped her hands back over his shoulders, her nose brushing his. He loved the trace of laughter that clung to her voice. "But technically, I am an intruder. So, Harry, how are you going to handle me?" The purr in her voice went right to his groin.

"I can think of a few things," he said, nudging her nose with his. His lips met hers in a needy flash of desire as his hands slipped beneath the thin white top. There was a chill to her skin, which he blamed on the environmental system. He grabbed her waist and pulled her a little closer to the edge of the counter.

Her feet hooked behind his thighs as her hands moved freely over his chest, shoulders, and neck. The frenzied kissing only paused for a strategic breath here and there as they reacclimated themselves to one another. Her fingers teased through his sleep-styled hair, while his hands moved from sensuous teasing touches toward ones with the more pointed purpose of stoking the fire the gentler caresses kindled.

He broke the kiss with a groan when her hand pressed across the front of his trousers. Her delicate fingers stroked him through the fabric, her nails singing across the weave in a way that reverberated through his body.

"I'm stuck up here," she said, her lips brushing his as his breathing went heavy.

He glanced at the pool of dark liquid interspersed with ceramic-shard islands. "Indeed, it seems you are."

"Being a chivalrous gentleman," she purred, one hand teasing at his collar while the other still worked across the front of his slacks, "certainly you'd carry me to safety."

"I would be, if you were ladylike enough to ask." Harry stole another kiss. Her hand dove back into his hair as his mouth moved to her neck.

"Damn you, Harry," she crooned on a sigh.

They both knew it was her weakness. Her head fell back, allowing him more sensitive skin to smooch and nibble. Her other hand detoured, pulling at his waist as her legs tightened around his middle as well. She let him have his way with her, sighing and moaning as his hands cupped and teased her breasts through the thin weave of her top while he kissed, nibbled and sucked at her neck. The gentle rock of her body against him clawed rumbling sounds of excitement from his throat as well.

When he licked a line along her jugular, she fisted her hand in his hair and pulled his mouth away from her skin. He hissed at the pleasurable sting, but found her intense aqua gaze easily.

"If you don't take me to bed right this minute—"

He pulled against her grip on his hair, the sweet tingle of pain trickling down his spine. "What's the magic word, Pathfinder?" he taunted.

"Please, Harry," she said, her fingers smoothing through his hair again. As her hand reached the back of his head, her manicured nails took over and magnified the buzz beneath his skin.

Aching and newly energized, Harry would have scooped her off the counter even if she hadn't asked so sweetly. The plea in her voice did things to him. It was like there was a switch she could flip and go from vixen to angel in three seconds flat. And, damn him, he was a fool for it. For her.

The mantle of pathfinder had been foisted upon her, but damned if she didn't take it up with skill and fervor. Certainly, he worried about her, but that was more due to the tenderness of his feelings than any inkling that she wasn't capable of achieving great amounts of success. She proved it over and over again. Discounted at every turn—some for her age, some because of a history of failure, some merely grasping onto stubbornness—Cassie Ryder did not let those opinions stacked up against her define the woman she became.

Harry had been lucky enough to have a front row seat to it. He'd seen the doubt she harbored when she'd been told that her father authorized the transfer of pathfinder authority to his child rather than the woman who trained to take up the mantle in his stead.

In confidence, she told him she felt unprepared. After seeing the state of the Nexus and the Initiative, it overwhelmed her as it would have anyone in her place. But slowly and steadily she turned the title of pathfinder into something all her own, redefining it in a way that not even Jien Garson or Alec Ryder could likely have expected.

In some moments, Harry still found himself surprised that his were the arms she chose to find comfort in. And he certainly found peace in her embrace, even when it overflowed with prurient longing. When he shifted, she wrapped her arms around his neck. With two hands full of Cassie's rear, Harry toted her around the wall that separated it from the bedroom area. Kneeling, he continued until he planted her square in the middle of the mattress. "Milady," he chided, looming over her.

She giggled and pulled him down on top of her by his collar. The change of location magnified the motion of her hips against him; it was almost as maddening as her hand, perhaps more so because he knew it could take almost no time at all for him to bury himself inside her.

Deft fingers made quick work of the fastenings of his shirt. He leaned up as Cassie pushed it over his shoulders. "Long night?" she asked, planting fiery kisses over his chest.

"Yeah." He didn't move. He had missed the sensation of her, the feel of her lips, her hands, her body against his. It was amazing how little time apart it took for his heart to develop that hollow ache. "It's easier when I'm working," he admitted, taking her face in both her hands and bending to press his lips to hers.

Her smile was bittersweet, and there was a sadness behind her eyes. "I know. I do," she swore. "All I could think about on the tram ride from the docks was sneaking into bed and cuddling up next to you." Her grin widened with a quiet laugh. "But you were dead to the world when I got here. So, I took a nap on your sofa and nabbed a shower, then thought I'd be sweet and wake you with coffee and breakfast, but you saw how that turned out."

"Brilliantly. It's the coffee that woke me."

Cassie poked him in the stomach. "Way to bruise a woman's ego."

He rubbed at the infraction. "That wasn't the intent."

"I know."

"I took an extra shift last night, because working occupies my mind."

"And wears you out?" she added.

"Exactly. I don't come back here at night and think about the fact that your side of the bed is empty."

Her countenance quickly moved from somber to amused. "I have a side of the bed?" she asked, beaming at him with wide eyes.

Harry just laughed.

"Which one is it?" she asked, mirth ringing clear in her voice as she looked over each of her shoulders in turn.

He played along, pointing to the side of the bed now missing a lamp. She scrambled over and laid down, then patted his pillow. With a laugh, he laid down where she wanted him. Then she grimaced and scooted her pillow closer and crooked her finger at him. He followed suit until there was only a thin bit of space left between their bodies.

"I think I rather like this side of the bed," she said. Her fingertips floated across his collarbone and over his shoulder, a slow pattern developing.

"I like you on that side of the bed, too," he agreed, tipping his head enough to meet her lips again.

The arm pinned under her cupped his neck, the other traced the length of his neck and along his jaw until it came to play in the salted hair at his temples. Harry draped his free arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, closing the distance between their bodies completely. Lazy kisses turned deep, tongues teasing against one another. Her leg draped over his hip, then she continued that movement pushing him onto his back.

"So," she started, pulling away and perching atop his hips. "Do I have to ask for permission to come to your side of the bed?"

"Never." Harry's hands roamed up her thighs as he shook her head. "You're always more that welcome over here."

She leaned over him, tickling the tip of his nose with hers. "You can always come to my side, too."

"Good." He tipped his chin and pecked her lips, but the kiss didn't deepen.

-2-

Cassie rubbed her hands up and down his chest, just smiling at him. She didn't know why the prospect of having a side of his bed thrilled her. Maybe it was the idea that she had a place to come home to, someplace static. Someone. And Harry wanted her there, she thought, unable to keep the smile off her face. More than that she wanted to be there, ached to be there when she couldn't be, when duty called her away.

It was the first time in her life where she felt like she understood her parents' relationship. Before delving too far into that line of thought, she detoured her hands across her hips and grabbed the hem of her shirt. Before it even touched the floor, Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around her. His body was so warm; his kisses rapacious, each leaving a little hint of moisture on her skin that the breeze in the room chilled to delightful effect.

HIs palms pressed up her back, holding her tight. His pale green eyes rose to meet her gaze as he greedily dragged his tongue over her nipple. His mouth closed over it, and neither looked away. As her breath caught with the scrape of his teeth, her fingers tightened in his hair. He hissed against her flesh, the trail of his breath drew the sensitive skin to a taut peak.

"Ah," she moaned when the heat of his mouth closed over it again. She whimpered his name when he did the same to her other breast, this time far more purposefully. Her hips shifted against his, but the angle was all wrong and there was far too much clothing in the way.

When he released her nipple, he stretched up toward her parted lips. Without a hint of reserve, her tongue dove into his mouth. She swallowed his groan easily and shifted her center of gravity to get him back against the bed. His hands relocated in the frenzied fall—the one on her ass squeezed and guided the roll of her hips against his, the other cupped her breast and teased at the aching nipple he'd taunted mercilessly.

A part of Cassie just wanted to lay there in his arms, with his hands all over her and his lips on hers. She would melt easily into that—while away hours, days, weeks in his embrace. Of course, there was the responsible adult in the back of her brain reminding her that neither of them had even a free day for that kind of indulgence. Her lips brushed his chin; short gray bristles prickled her lips. When she moved to his neck, she felt a swallow move the length of his throat as she retreated slowly.

His reaction to the scraping her teeth across the thin flesh of his collarbone vibrated beneath her lips. She grinned against his skin a pleased huff of a laugh escaping as her kisses crept down his chest. Harry's hands skimmed her sides as she sank away.

Every time she peeked up at him his eyes were on her. The way he watched her, saw her, it was thrilling. Her core warmed and her heart raced under the intense scrutiny of his mossy green stare.

Kneeling between his legs she pressed her hand over the front of his trousers again. She smiled as his eyes slipped shut with a low groan. It was something, she thought, knowing full well she'd hear everything she wanted and more once she got those trousers out of the way. After another stroke through the fabric, her hands retreated to the fastenings, which she expertly dispatched with.

"Cassie," he said. It wasn't quite a question, but still was all the same.

She gave him a wink and a smile, then tugged his pants and boxers down together just far enough to free her prize. Peeking up at him for a moment, she then let her gaze fall. Her hand traced the edge of his boxers—plain white cotton, both functional and comfortable, like the man himself. But she knew he was far more. One hand crept beneath the fabric as the other tugged at it. The deep moan that broke past his lips when she took him in hand made her tingle.

When his eyes opened again, he looked right at her. She drew a few slow strokes along his length, then her hand opened as she bent over him again.

"Stars, Cassie," he groaned as her tongue traveled up the underside of his cock.

It spurred her on. Tracing the bulbous tip with her tongue earned a flex of his hip. More teasing little licks led to a growl. When she finally took him in her mouth, there was a quiver in his thigh that made her giddy. She loved every second of it, every sound. She wanted to watch him—Dr. Harry Carlyle, head of the Hyperion's medical team—come entirely undone. It was a treat, a real sight to behold. He was a respected doctor with the playful bedside manner, a combat veteran, an approachable man who so many people turned to, but in that room, at that moment, he was wanton, writhing, and at the mercy of her tongue.

She hummed as her free hand cupped his balls, massaging them gently.

"Ah, shit," he growled.

The way his moan deepened shot down her spine like lightning. She dragged her nails over his thighs, then his abs, finally raising a hiss. While one hand tightened in the sheets, the other flexed in her hair. At one moment, his fingertips pressed across her scalp sending shivers through her body, then the next it would tighten in reply to this lick or that tease. For a bit, she placated the needy thrust of his hips, letting him fuck her mouth and only easing away when he hit the back of her throat.

His breaths came heavy, vocal. When her hand wrapped around him once more, she set a lascivious pace with a clear purpose. Bobbing her head shallowly, she eyes cast up at him; he stared at her. "Aw, fuck, Cassie."

The little shake of his head suggested she'd found his weakness. Of course, they both knew she knew it. The sight of her sucking his cock carried some measure of the pleasure of it.

"Like that. Just like that," Harry said. His hips, which had been straining, now moved with her. She laid her hand on his belly and moved with him as best she could. His hand tightened in her hair, the pleasurable sting shocking across her nerves as she kept up the gentle sucking he preferred.

"Cassie." That initial call of her name was a warning that sounded like a prayer. His body tensed beneath her touch and with a guttural groan he found his release.

When he spilled on her tongue, she managed to fight the impulse to spit. With Harry though, she at least tried to hold back her body's reflex. In the past she hadn't even tried, but with him, Cassie found herself trying all sorts of new things. She grinned up at him, head thrown back against his pillow, muscles quivering across his tummy, and each breath mixed with a bit of a growl.

He'd still looked tired and tense when he scared her in the kitchen, but there was a glorious relaxation in his body now.

His eyes peeked open and he grinned at her, giving her hand a tug. Pausing only to plant a few kisses along the way, she curled up beside him. His thumb grazed her cheek, then his hand tucked into her hair to guide her lips to his. She hesitated a moment, when his tongue teased at her lips, but finally gave him. There wasn't an inch of hesitation in the heady way he kissed her.

She brushed her hand over his forehead and into the wild mess of his hair. "I love watching that."

"Watching what?"

"Everyone sees you as so buttoned-down and straight-laced. But I can get you cursing and writhing and moaning with abandon in a few well-used minutes." With a giggling grin, she pecked him on the tip of the nose.

A moment later, Cassie found herself on her back, with Harry covering her. "Oh really? And what about you, Pathfinder?"

All she could do was laugh, because she knew it was true. She wasn't much better; hands, tongue, cock—it didn't matter Harry could undo her with just as much ease.

"If I recall correctly, some beautiful biotic I know almost broke my bed once, she came so hard."

Cassie gasped, feigning shock. "Harry. I thought we were exclusive."

"You're not funny," he growled against her lips.

There wasn't even a chance to push the teasing any farther before his mouth sealed against hers. Cassie was fine with that outcome. She draped her arms around his shoulders and melted into the moment. When his kisses detoured to her neck, she relaxed into her side of the bed turning her head and stretching her neck for more. Harry didn't disappoint, peppering pecks, gentle sucks, and careful nips along the sensitive skin.

-3-

The previous weeks had been horrid, like living in a desert with no food or water. Now, the flood had returned and his heart was full to bursting. Her laugh, her smile, the smell of her skin—he tried to memorize it all. He touched and kissed her body with the greed of the starved who knew famine would return.

Harry placed sharp bites along the curve of her ribs, buried his face in her soft belly, then finally pulled himself away from the intoxication of her skin long enough yank her panties of. The first time there had been a shyness in the way her knees came back together once that last scrap of modest fabric had been removed. Now, it was like she wanted him to see her body as much as he did.

His hands traced over her long legs as he studied her, from the blush that crept across her chest to her aqua eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. Her fingers caught his and pulled him toward her.

"I love you, Cassie."

The smile she gave him made her eyes twinkle. "I love you, too," she replied, leaning up and stealing a kiss.

He lingered there in her embrace, her lips on his. She was so warm, so tempting. And, stars, did he ever feel her absence with every heartbeat. Slipping a hand between them, his fingers tickled along her inner thigh and continued that light teasing touch higher. A coo clung in her throat as she sighed into his mouth. Harry took his time teasing her, knowing he'd need a moment for recovery himself.

"Oh my," he whispered against her lips as a fingertip slipped into her folds to find more than a hint of wetness there. "Someone was enjoying themselves."

She gasped when he inched the tip of his finger into her. Fuck, he loved that sound.

"Well, like I said. I love watching the great Doctor Harry Carlyle go from icon to quivering, cursing puddle of wanton lust."

"Damnit, Cassie," he breathed. He kissed her, pressing deeper.

The kiss broke with a whimper, hers, as deft fingers moved in earnest. Clearly, she'd worked herself up in the process of exciting him. She clung to his neck, muttering encouragements and moaning his name. He could tell by her breathing, the way her hips moved, and the tightness pitching her voice up a hair that she was close.

"Wait," she said, one hand grabbing his wrist. "Wait a second."

He froze. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she said, then looked up at him with a grin. "I just thought we could try something."

Harry's concerned expression became a pleased smile. "Do tell."

"Well, I thought we could stop a sec. Kind of reset the clock."

"You know, if we were back in the Milky Way I'd have to ask what kind of sites you'd been visiting on the extranet."

Cassie laughed breathlessly. "Nothing like that. Though I'm sure it's out there already."

"Probably." He wasn't anymore well-versed on that topic than her. When his cravings piqued, he had a growing number of memories to choose from to get him through a few moments alone in the shower or in the darkness of his bedroom. He could only imagine it was possibly the same way for her.

"It sort of happened on accident. Interruptions can be cruel." She gave him a pouty look

"That they can," he agreed with a consoling smile and a soft kiss. It broke with a growl from him. Harry glanced down at the hand stroking his cock.

"Too soon?" she asked.

"No, just wasn't expecting it."

"Then you don't mind?"

Harry shook his head.

"Good," she said. "I want to go slow."

Her mouth was soft against his bottom lip. Little butterfly kisses pressed lightly over every inch of his lips before she let him seal their mouths with any amount of firmness.

"Is that why—" he started to ask. They'd been together long enough to learn certain things about one another's bodies, and he couldn't help but wonder if she put some of it to good use.

She quieted him with a kiss. "No. I just wanted to. Like I said, watching you go to pieces is thrilling and you get so vocal. You don't hold back."

"Glad you enjoy it," Harry said with a trace of a laugh in his voice. The deliberate gentle touch of her hand set a rhythm his hips responded to almost of their own accord. She cuddled up against his side, covering his neck and shoulders in kisses when her lips weren't on his. Once he rested heavy and hard in her grip once more, Cassie draped her leg over his hip.

Like an artist, she painted the tip of him against her clit before shifting her body to accomplish his entry. Harry sighed against her mouth and pulled her body closer. The tight embrace of her body took his breath away, but it wasn't that velvety warmth that Harry lost himself in. It was the brush of her lips against his, her fingertips in his hair and on his skin, her breath caressing his cheek, and the sound her voice—that is what entranced him. Those were the things he would miss when she returned to the Tempest.

Together, they found a rhythm that thrummed through them, or so he was apt to assume by her deepening sighs. He cradled her close, his fingers dancing over the curve of her side and hip, then along her thigh. Her hand skimmed to the small of his back; the pressure of her fingertips matched the smooth roll of her body against his. Those sighs morphed into demure moans, which roughened even as they were muffled in kisses. Beneath his hands, he felt the first quakes in the muscle of her thigh; her nails clenched at his back as she kissed him with a new fervor.

"Harry," she muttered against his lips, a plea in her tone. "Harry, please."

Their fluid motion continued unabated, lips sealing again. He greedily swallowed every single moan as the tremors beneath her skin intensified. "Ah, yes. Harry," she whimpered, breaking their kiss and pressing her forehead to his with eyes shut tight for a moment. An erratic shift overtook her hips, but Harry's were undeterred. He matched the tightening grip of her embrace, and the clutching of her body carried him easily with her—Cassie's climax brought about his own, adding to the disjointedness of their machinations. Her name in his gravelly groans, mingled with the more dulcet tones of his name in her sweet voice.

The small room went silent as their bodies stilled, save for their breathing, which still came hard and heavy. Harry brushed her hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. Cassie blessed him with a soft smile and content hum.

They lay entwined, trading kisses and tender signs of their shared love as well as hopes and wishes for a time when they would not need to part from one another so soon. Cassie knew as swell as Harry that it was her position and responsibility that could secure that wish for them both, but it still seemed so far off in that moment when separation loomed.

After sharing a shower and cleaning up the mess from their mutual surprise, that dreaded moment arrived. Her omni-tool chimed with the reminder she set for herself. They exchanged devout farewells without ever saying the word goodbye, though Cassie initially declined Harry's offer to escort her to the docks, as always. Upon his insistence, as always, she relented, but their departure from one another there was far more reserved in nature.

Harry didn't return to the Hyperion immediately. Instead, he waited, watching from the area overlooking the Tempest's landing area. He never left first, but watched to the last, seeing her off once again.