paynesgrey: Wen the White (stdisco-michael2)
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Title: Live a Little; That's an Order (2047 words) by paynesgrey
Fandom: Star Trek: Discovery
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Michael Burnham, Philippa Georgiou
Additional Tags: Friendship, mother/daughter - Freeform, Platonic Love, Buddyfic, Fluff
Notes: Written for the Disco Hiatus Exchange at [community profile] spacefungusparty  for [personal profile] nonelvis . Takes place after the novelization "Desperate Hours", though you don't need to read it to follow along with this story.

Other Link: FFnet

Summary:

After the events on Sirsa III, Captain Georgiou suggests that her first officer relax more and visit a day spa with her.
 

First Officer Michael Burnham could accurately list many activities she could do with ease, such as hand to hand combat, intricate puzzles, and arguing with perfect logic.

Yet there was one thing she found difficult to do at an expert level: relax.

She had little choice in the matter at this point. Captain Philippa Georgiou insisted that Michael take a break from their last mission on Sirsa III, which left the U.S.S. Shenzou somewhat indisposed and repairs were needed. Several of her crew also needed to be mended, and Burnham was recovering herself.

She had a few minor scrapes and bruises, nothing the medics couldn’t quickly heal. However, she was also still reeling from a meeting from Sarek’s estranged son Spock and having an impromptu mind meld with him. Dealing with the aliens in the Juggernaut was a challenge enough, but there was something personally harrowing about sharing a mind with a man whose shadow she lived in for most of her youth.

Georgiou wanted to relax herself. She’d had enough of filing status reports, tangling with the criminals on the colony and tying up loose ends of the whole ordeal itself. When she called Burnham, her newly appointed First Officer, into her ready room, the woman looked ready to pass out on her desk.

Burnham made the mistake of suggesting that the captain get some rest, and Georgiou took that as an invitation to join her. The Shenzou was still undergoing repairs, and Georgiou had heard of a recreational shuttle at the space station heading to the M-class planet below.

“Admiral Anderson mentioned a wonderful day spa there, and for him to suggest anything so -- recreational must be amazing,” Georgiou said, and Burnham could already see her captain’s mind one foot into the day spa already.

“It sounds like the perfect place for you, Captain,” Burnham said agreeably. Then Georgiou met her eyes and gave her the widest, most calculating smile.

“It does, doesn’t it? It would be better if my first officer would also take a moment to rest. When’s the last time you’ve had a deep tissue massage, Number One?” she asked.

Burnham furrowed her brow, unable to answer that.

“Good, you’ll come with me. It’ll help you navigate those cluttered thoughts and give you a moment to heal and focus.”

“Sir, I don’t believe it is wise for me to accompany you to a day spa,” Burnham said, elaborating. “As my superior officer, of course.”

Georgiou sniffed and shrugged her shoulders lightly. “It’s never prevented you before from accompanying me to some non-Starfleet related endeavors.”

“Yes, but of those times, I was required to --”

Georgiou shook her head, and Burnham was quieted by an exasperated look. She did not mean to upset her, but she also did not want to break protocol either, if that existed. She wasn’t sure, actually.

“Michael, please, it’s just a day spa. I’m not asking you to make a life altering choice. I believe you’ll benefit from some pampering, especially after the time you had on Sirsa III,” she said.

“Very well,” Michael said, bowing her head once. “If you require me to come with you, I will.”

“I don’t require you to do anything. I’m suggesting,” she clarified.

Michael raised a solitary eyebrow and stared at her. “It is not an order then?”

Philippa clenched her jaw for a moment. “Do you need it to be to feel more inclined to accept?”

Michael paused. She shook her head.

“Well, then, that’s settled,” Georgiou said, throwing up her hands. “Meet me at airlock 2, plainclothes at 14:00 hours. We’ll walk together to the shuttlebay.”

“Yes, Captain,” Michael said, and with another bow she left Georgiou’s ready room and headed back to her quarters. On one hand Burnham felt anxiety at going to the day spa with her captain outside of normal Starfleet orders. On the other hand, she admitted to herself that she was mentally exhausted, and the encounter with Spock had left her thoughts in a tailspin. Her body craved some kind of release and rest, and she looked forward to getting back to her normal, energized self.

 

--

She’d met the Captain in the airlock perfectly on time, and took notice of Georgiou’s plainclothes, a light blue and dark gray short sleeve shirt with matching slacks and dark flat shoes. She held a light knapsack over her shoulder and met Burnham with a motherly smile.

Burnham was in modest plainclothes herself, a dark green jumpsuit and sensible black shoes. She carried no belongings with her, and she wondered if maybe she was missing something if Georgiou had her bag.

The captain made a motion to her and they headed out of the airlock into the space station. Following the captain’s lead, they headed to the shuttlecraft that would take them down to the planet’s surface. Georgiou informed Burnham of their schedule, more to alleviate her anxiety than anything, Michael was sure of that, but her usually reserved captain looked somewhat jubilant at spending some time with her.

Small talk was not something either woman enjoyed, though Georgiou attempted it. Michael responded to her reflections and questions as best she could, and then they were both silent when they began to overhear another passenger on their trolley toward the spa talk about the history of this M-class planet.

Engaged for awhile, Michael and Georgiou were ready to get off the trolley as it stopped them in front of the spa. Both women paused and their gazes swept over the spa in front of them, and Michael was curious about it’s Earth Asian decor.

“I have been wanting to come to a day spa for months now. Now I finally get a chance. Admiral Anderson said the original owners were immigrants from China on Earth and when this colony started, they opened a spa to help treat the stress and physical injuries of the miners that worked nearby.”

“It’s very peaceful here,” Michael commented, noticing the koi pond at the sides of the entrance. She and the captain walked on a bridge over the pond to get to the steps that led inside. When they had passed the sliding door, a young woman in a yellow kimono greeted them with a deep bow. Georgiou bowed in turn and Burnham followed her lead.

“We have an appointment. Couple’s massage,” Georgiou said, and Burnham snapped her attention to the captain with wide eyes, feeling heat in her cheeks.

“Don’t worry, it was a package deal and it had better sessions than the other ones,” Georgiou said to her; though, by her expression she was amused by Burnham’s fluster.

The two women followed their hostess down a long hallway, and she led them into a room with two beds side-by-side. White robes were waiting for them, and there was an enclave against the rice paper wall to store their belongings. Georgiou got started and began undressing. Michael gasped and turned her back, feeling her anxiety take over her again.

“Sir,” she said, clearing her throat.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she said. "You can go behind the divider if you’re uncomfortable." Michael grabbed her robe and did just that, almost shaking when she removed each piece of clothing. She felt sort of foolish when Georgiou was more than calm as if nothing improper was happening between them. Well, logically Burnham knew that there wasn’t.

When they were both snug in their robes, the hostess guided them to the first session on the beds, a deep tissue massage. When they undressed under the blankets on the bed, Burnham wondered if Georgiou could sense her anxiety.

“Relax,” she said, a little exasperated. “That’s an order.”

Burnham didn’t know if that was a joke or not. She didn’t answer, and just made a noise in her throat, which rattled as the masseuse began to work on some knots in her upper back.

It seemed like only seconds went by and their massage was done, and Burnham admitted that she did feel better and her skin and muscles felt loose and warm.

They went through a mud bath, which Georgiou especially liked, and Burnham caught her moaning a couple of times, and then next they were treated to foot massages, pedicures, laser removal of any hairs and deep laser healing of wrinkles, aging spots and minor scar tissue.

When they finished their last session, a seaweed wrap, Burnham never felt more relaxed in her life. Georgiou was practically glowing and she shot her a lazy smile as they sat in the sauna.

“Oh, this is nice,” Georgiou said, sitting next to Burnham on the wooden slats in the sauna. Michael became mesmerized by the technology of the heater in front of them, and got lost in the bright glow of the coils.

“Hmm,” Michael made a noise in agreement. She let her thoughts fall away, fading into the ether. All of her anxieties about the mind meld with Spock and her winning the captain’s favor over Saru for First Officer melted away. She enjoyed her captain’s company, and she was happy to be refreshed for the next mission.

Georgiou was silent next to her, and Michael turned to look at her captain. Suddenly, Georgiou had leaned her head against Michael’s shoulder. She tensed from the close, intimate gesture, and felt a surge of delight as Georgiou’s soft, naked skin rubbed against hers.

Burnham stilled, unable to move and not knowing if she wanted to. Here was a woman she admired and respected above all else, and she strived to be accepted by her, and dare she admitted, loved by Philippa Georgiou. Everything she did since she’d met her captain was try to succeed in her eyes and prove to her what a great officer she could be.

And anyone’s criticism of her gaining the captain’s favor (specifically Saru) only fueled Burnham’s fire to appeal to Georgiou even more. The fact that her captain could be so comfortable with her to fall asleep on her shoulder spoke volumes to Burnham about their relationship.

Georgiou eventually shifted, realizing she had dozed off. She couldn’t even stifle the loud yawn that escaped her sleepy mouth. “Oh, Number One, I do apologize. I seemed to have become more relaxed than anticipated.”

“It’s alright, Captain,” Michael said in a soft voice, and she hated to admit it, but she already missed Georgiou’s touch. “You needed the rest.”

“Don’t forget, Michael, we both did,” she said.

When they left the spa, they thanked their hosts and felt warm and relaxed. The spa had given them complimentary confectionaries and hot tea to keep them awake as they loaded on the trolley and then came back around to the next shuttle headed to the space station.

Little was said between the two women again, and Burnham’s mellow thoughts kept coming back to Georgiou falling asleep on her shoulder. She inwardly smiled at the thought of it, and she was glad she came with the captain after all.

“See, I told you that you needed to relax. It suits you,” Georgiou said.

Burnham inhaled a deep breath and gave her captain a rare, deserved smile. “Well, sir, I’m always happy to try new things. For the betterment of ship morale.”

Georgiou scoffed and waved a hand. “Ship morale; don’t give me that. You need to work on yourself. If we don’t take care of ourselves on all levels, then what? Our lives might be shorter than we believe.”

She admitted there was some logic in Georgiou’s words. Burnham looked out the window of the shuttlecraft and saw the space station greeting them. They both noticed the Shenzou docked on the right.

“I wonder if she’s ready,” Georgiou mused, meaning the repairs of her ship.

“Ready to get back to work?” Burnham asked.

“More than ready,” Georgiou said with an expression alit with anticipation. “We have work to do, Number One. There’s a lot left in this universe waiting to be discovered.”

Burnham turned and followed Georgiou’s gaze to the Shenzou. She felt a sense of home when she looked upon the ship. With Georgiou as her captain, she admitted to a deep feeling of belonging.

On the Shenzou with Captain Philippa Georgiou, there was no other place Michael Burnham would rather be.

END

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