The bath didn’t have a lock. As unsurprising as that was given the fact that it was Dax’s private bath, attached to his cabin, it was still disconcerting. Shrugging it off after a moment, she struggled with the self sealing closure that ran down the front of the suit and shimmied out of it. It wasn’t easy because the room was tiny and the shower took up almost half of it. She might have been inclined to climb into the shower to undress except for two circumstances. It was no bigger than the area outside the shower, in fact smaller, and it was made entirely of crystal clear acrylic, which meant it offered no more privacy.
After placing the suit carefully on a hook behind the door, she stepped into the shower, studied the control a moment and finally pressed the decon button. Foaming, decontaminating lather immediately began to spray from a nozzle overhead. The first glob hit her right on top of the head, punctuating the fact that the shower had either been adjusted for Dax, or built to begin with for a tall man. Arching her back and holding her hands out palm up, she caught the stream, scrubbing it over her neck and breasts and belly with her hands and then filled her palms again with the lather and leaned down to lather her feet and legs and genitals. She’d just straightened when she happened to glance toward the door.
Dax was standing in the opening, one shoulder propped negligently against the frame, watching her with unabashed interest.
Lena jumped all over, throwing lather into her face.
His lip curled up at one corner. “When you’re done, we’ll go down to the mess.”
Lena glared at him indignantly.
He arched a brow at her.
She presented him with her back.
“This view’s good, too,” he murmured, laughter threading his voice.
“I’m not used to having men in my bath,” she said testily.
“Good.”
When she glanced back, she saw he hadn’t moved so much as a hair.
She thought about telling him to go away, but she doubted he would. He had to know she was uncomfortable with being watched, and that hadn’t fazed him.
And he had certainly not come in only for the purpose of telling her they would go to eat when she was done. He’d already asked if she was hungry.
Deciding to simply ignore him, she finished lathering herself and switched to the rinse. The fine mist that began to spray her from every direction caught her in the face, too. Covering her face, she found that the only way she could avoid the spray was to turn toward the door--where Dax still stood, watching.
She tried to ignore him anyway, lifting her arms and legs to make sure she’d rinsed the lather off thoroughly before she shut the rinse off and touched the dry button. The warm air that immediately enveloped her made goose flesh rise on her skin, but it dried most of the water up.
Dax tossed a small towel at her as she stepped out of the shower. She caught it by reflex, glancing up at him as she did. There was no amusement in his eyes now. They were stormy, glittering with some emotion that her body sensed and reacted to. Pushing away from the door frame, he stared at her a moment and finally turned and left.
Feeling weak-kneed, Lena dried the residual dampness from her skin and blotted as much water from her hair as she could before she grabbed the uniform and tugged it on. Dax was sprawled in the chair at his desk when she returned to the main room of the cabin, a glass in one hand.
She glanced at the glass disapprovingly and then, without saying anything, moved to the lav and looked around hopefully for a comb or brush.
“In the cabinet next to my shaver,” Dax offered, his voice sounding husky. From the fire water, Lena wondered, or something else?
Her hair was still damp when she’d finished combing it, but she merely blotted the wet ends again and left it to dry naturally. It was one of the things she liked about her new hair, that all she had to do was comb it and allow it to dry.
But it hadn’t been worth what she’d paid for it, she thought as an avalanche of guilt washed over her, wondering if what Dax had said was true, or if he’d only said it to keep her from feeling so guilty that that one act of vanity had cost them all so much.
Dax was studying her pensively when she returned the comb and turned to him at last.
Without a word, he downed the last of the liquid in the glass, set it down, and stood up.
Lena found that her body was still buzzing with ambiguous sensations as she moved along the corridor slightly in front of Dax. He’d settled his hand along her waist, resting on the top of her hip, as if to guide her, which was nonsense of course since the corridor was straight and he must know she’d already been to the mess hall before. She couldn’t decide if it was possessive in nature, or a precaution because she was still an unknown entity, or maybe even protectiveness, but she found it raised the level of awareness in her until she felt almost breathless. When they reached the tube, he gestured for her to precede him.
She heard voices coming from the mess hall long before they arrived and the sound instantly redirected her tension from awareness of a sexual nature to anxiety. Slowing, she threw a glance at Dax’s face. His grip on her tightened fractionally, urging her forward, but she abruptly felt a protectiveness in his touch and his nearness and some of her uneasiness abated.
The mess hall, she discovered to her dismay, was full. If Dax hadn’t been directly behind her and had a firm grip on her she would’ve retreated immediately, particularly since conversations all over the room died the moment she was noticed in the doorway. They picked up again almost immediately as Dax pushed her gently but firmly into the room and guided her toward the buffet. “I already got a tray earlier,” she murmured when he took a tray and handed it to her.
“You can get it later.”
She didn’t want to argue about it, not when she felt like everybody was listening. Shrugging mentally, she took the tray, but she was very careful this time only to take a little food. She was hungry but unnerved by being around so many strangers. She would have been anyway, feeling as she did that all of them watched her, but it made it particularly bad knowing what she did now.
A man of obvious tino heritage hailed them as they left the buffet and Dax guided her toward that table, pulling out a chair for her before he set his tray down.
