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"I don't think you want to go in there right..." Tilly's high pitched voice rings after her but as the words fully register, Michael's feet have already carried her past the heavy, velvet drape that separates the main area of the establishment from the private chamber. At first she isn't even sure that she has the right place, when all she can see are entangled limbs moving against each other on a sinfully large bed. Only as she takes a furtive step closer, she catches a glimpse of silky dark hair and hears a sigh of pleasure that sounds disturbingly too familiar. Her cheeks grow hot at the realization what exactly she has walked into. As she steps backwards, Michael stumbles over a carelessly discarded boot on the floor and when she looks back up all hope of escaping the room undetected, vanishes under the gaze of three pairs of eyes staring right at her. Only one of them makes her feel a little too warm under her collar. "Michael." The Emperor purrs, "how nice of you to join us." There is annoyance at being disturbed and something close too amusement - intrigue perhaps - shining in her, oh so familiar, eyes. Michael can't quite discern it, too overwhelmed by a situation she never expected to find herself in. And if she ever had imagined a situation like this - there had certainly no exotic Orion… dancers been present. "Over here." The Emperor waves her over with an imperious flick of her wrist. Michael just scoffs and were it not for the heat burning low in her stomach, she could almost make herself believe she isn't tempted to accept the Emperor's illicit invitation. Dark eyes snap to her at the sound and Michael swallows thickly at the intensity she finds in them. A whimper of protest leaves the female Orion's mouth as Philippa entangles herself from her sparsely clad body and slowly rises from the bed with a grace Michael can do nothing but envy her for. The black leather corset fits her like a glove and really, Michael should not be studying it so intensely nor the absence of basically the rest of the Emperor's clothes as she saunters over to where she still stands rooted to the spot. Bare feet make no sound on the carpeted floor until she is so close Michael can feel the warmth of her breath against her cheek. "You shouldn't have barged in here, if you're not willing to play the part." The Emperor's voice is dark and sweet like poisoned sugar and Michael has to remind herself to not get lost in that particular tone - has to forcefully remind herself that this is not her Phillipa. "I fail to see how this… is supposed to help us with our mission." Michal hisses, but keeps her voice low enough their Orion company will hopefully not catch it - tries to keep her thoughts from wandering as the Emperor leans so much closer, the pads of her fingers play over the corse fabric of her shirt, barely even touching but Micheal can still feel it with the intensity of a glowing iron poker. "Fortunately for all of us, Starfleet put me in charge of this mission. Especially since you can't be bothered to see the bigger picture." She sighs dramatically, then starts slowly walking backwards towards the bed. "What will it be, Michael? Are you going to disappoint me again?" And really, it is not fair. Michael knows very well that the Emperor does not play fair. Probably never will, never has. And were it not for the crippling excitement taking a hold over her, she might even try to resist her.
Alas, she cannot. It’s for the good of the mission after all.