DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are
the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2004 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
Strange Bedfellows
by Djinn
Kirk touches her, and Chapel
wants to die. She isn't sure why she was
paired with him, doesn't care anymore why the aliens have chosen to put her and
the captain together. All there is, all
she knows, is his touch, his lips on her skin, his body pressed against her
own. His voice, murmuring nonsensical
endearments, is all she can hear. He is
her world.
Or so she pretends for the
bubble-headed perverts that must be watching them. Not that they've seen the aliens since they
shot them full of drugs, stole all their clothes, dumped them into these rather
spacious padded cages, and left them alone.
But still, Kirk doesn't want them to think that they are plotting
escape. Even if that is exactly what he
is plotting.
And she likes that he's
plotting. It wouldn't be Kirk if he
wasn't going for the big finish.
She supposes she should call
him Jim. Should she call him Jim? They've certainly done it enough times for
her to call him Jim.
"Should I call you
Jim?" she asks absently as she leans down to kiss him.
"Probably. What's Spock doing?" Kirk asks her.
"Why? You jealous?" She's astride Kirk, riding him hard and he's
not even trying to pretend he doesn't enjoy it.
"Just curious. Why did they keep changing partners on
him?" It seemed to take the aliens
a long time to figure out which of the landing party would end up with the
Vulcan. "I mean us they just stuck
together without much thought. Why's he
so hard to place?"
"Uh, maybe because he's
a cold fish who wouldn't know a good roll in the hay if it kicked him in the
nuts?"
Kirk glares at her.
"How the hell do I know
what they're thinking? Maybe they just
like messing with him?" She kisses
Kirk--one of her better efforts in that department--to take any sting out of
her words.
They can't hear what is going
on in the other cages, there's some kind of baffling material. But she can see. She pulls away from Kirk, tries to look over
at Spock, but he's behind her. So she
flings her head back as if in the throes of the best sex ever. Which isn't a lie because Kirk certainly
knows what he is doing. But she overdoes
the head throw and feels a muscle in her neck complain. "Ow."
"Careful." Kirk smiles at her. The aliens probably think it is a tender
smile. And actually it is. Twenty hours of drug-enhanced sex will do
that for a formerly collegial relationship.
She smiles back at him, lets
something dreamy slip into the expression.
It's the way she used to look at Spock.
All googley-eyed, only this time it's on purpose, and she knows that
Kirk knows she's not that big a sap anymore.
There are a lot of things he suddenly knows about her that he didn't the
day before. She sneaks another look at
Spock's cage. "He and Scotty seem
to be doing well."
"No they
aren't." Kirk is trying to sneak a
peak, rolls her to her back and glances quickly over to Spock's cage. "Yes, they are."
"Is it my
imagination...?"
"No, it's not. They do look sort of happy."
Kirk rolls off her and they
both stop for a moment, staring over at Spock's cage. She has to rise up a bit to see, and Kirk's
hand finds her back, rubbing it absently.
She moans.
"You like that,
Doctor?"
"I do,
Captain." She leans over and kisses
him, a deep, open-mouthed kiss that they let go on for a very long time to
satisfy their captors.
"I hate this," he
murmurs, as his hand moves up to her hair.
His tongue is hard on hers; his body gives her no quarter as he pushes
her down.
"Yeah. Me too.
Haa-aa-aaate this."
He laughs.
She does too.
"They're coming with
food soon," he says. "We have
to overpower them."
"Okay. How does it go again? Thumb under fingers for a punch?"
He is moving, not gently, and
his words come out between thrusts.
"Only if...you want...to break...your thumb."
"Show me," she
says.
He pulls her arms over her
head, as if he's captured her the way the aliens captured them during their
"routine beam down" to what was supposed to be a deserted world--why
did it never work out that way?
"Like this," he
says, his hands moving her thumbs where they are supposed to go.
"Oh, yeah. I remember now." She can't help it; she loves it when he holds
her down this way.
"Big faker." He kisses her, but he doesn't let go.
"Do you think we can
stop if we want to? If we do get
away?"
"When, not if. And sure.
In a day or two, I'm sure this will wear off completely." He waggles his eyebrows.
She laughs. "Will we want to?"
"Hell, no." He laughs, but his eyes as he watches her
aren't really laughing. "Or maybe
I'm just projecting?"
His mind isn't the only thing
projecting. She arches, caught up in
what he is doing to her...again. She
never knew sex with him would be so damn good, or she might have joined Jan's "Kirk
4-Ever" fan club back in the day.
When she can finally speak again, she says softly, "You're probably
not projecting."
"Probably not? Is that the cautious answer?"
"Oh,
definitely." She pulls him down so
she can kiss him. Her words may be
cautious, her hands and lips certainly aren't.
"Mmmm." Even his
moans are sexy. "How is Spock
doing?"
"I really think you care
a little too much about that." She peeks over. Scotty is doing something--she's not sure
precisely what--and Spock looks very, very happy. "Would you call that a smile?"
Kirk looks over, grins at his
friend's expression. "Closest he's
ever come to one, barring Pon Farr and spores."
"Yeah, those were
fun." Her voice is beyond bitter.
"Did you end up with
someone?"
She laughs. Again, it is not
a pretty sound.
"Who?" His eyes glint. He will get to the bottom of this, she knows,
or die trying. When she doesn't answer,
he pulls her arms over her head again, kisses her neck. "Who?" he whispers in her ear.
"Monrh'an."
"The barber?"
"Shut up,
Jim." She sees him smile at
that. Suddenly loves that she can call
him that. And that she can tell him to
shut up, and it makes him happy.
"He was what? A hundred and forty?"
"Shut up, Jim."
"And does his species
even have a--"
"--Shut up,
Jim." She pushes him to his back,
finds her way down to that thing Monrh'an most assuredly did not have, and
suddenly her captain has no further interest in talking.
Her captain. Will he even allow them to be together once
they get out of this cage? "So,
when you asked about projecting..."
Turning to face her, he lies
on his side and strokes her face.
"Yes...?"
"What were you really
asking?"
"I'm not sure."
"Hmmm." She runs her fingers through the hair over
his eyes, pushes it back. "I never
realized how handsome you are."
"Come on, I'm a
god." He winks at her, trying not
to laugh.
"Well, actually, you
sort of are. But I mean the whole
you. The man, not just the pretty body
and face."
"Pretty?"
She nods, kisses his frown
away. "You're wonderful."
"I am, aren't
I?" His words are playful. His tone is too. His eyes, though, aren't.
Her smile fades. She knows the look she is giving him is
gentle...tender. "Space is a big
place. Lonely."
He nods.
"And you've got this
ship full of people."
"People I command."
"Well, some of us less
than others." She pushes him over,
crawls on top of him and pins his hands down the way he's been doing to
her. "Some of us much, much, much
less than others."
He laughs.
"I can relieve you of
duty."
"Well, hopefully only
for a very good reason." His look
is strange, like he is asking her a question.
A question about them.
"Oh, I thought I'd do it
because you forgot our anniversary."
"We have an
anniversary?"
She nods. "It'll soon be roughly 24 hours from the
time we first had sex."
"Is that the silver or
the gold anniversary?"
"It's the rubber one I
believe." She winks.
And he laughs. "How long have we known each
other?"
"Biblically or in the
more normal fashion."
He grins as he begins to explore parts of her that are close enough to his
mouth to kiss. "The second
one."
"Years." She sighs.
He is so damn good with his mouth.
She sneaks a look at
Spock. He and Scotty are done with
whatever they were doing, and Spock appears to be whispering sweet nothings in
Scotty's ear. The engineer is nodding
the same way he does when one of his assistants is feeding him fuel
equations.
"I think it's safe to
say that Scotty is on board with the plan." She rolls off Kirk. "I'm a little unclear how you conveyed
to Spock what the plan was."
He didn't do it when they
were initially captured. The first
fifteen or so hours, they were too busy making like bunnies to play
"Escape from the Alien Sex Zoo."
Kirk smiles. "We have hand signals for 'you take the
guy on the left, I'll take the guy on the right.' He'll have to improvise from there."
She laughs but knows he's not
kidding. He and Spock have been in some
tight jams before. They probably have
hand signals for a lot of things.
"So do you have one for 'Hey, check out the bazoombas on that
one'?"
"I'll never
tell." He pulls her close. "I'm so tired."
"Me too." She yawns, but her libido doesn't get the
message. "I still want you."
"I hear that a
lot." He grins again.
"Do you practice that
grin in the mirror?"
His smile turns a bit wicked.
"You do! You practice that. It's devastating by design."
"A guy's gotta use every
asset he has."
"I agree." She pulls him on top of her. "How about using some of those assets on
me."
He does, and she's so busy
enjoying it that it takes her a while to realize she's hearing the sound of
alien squeals on top of her own, then silence.
"Captain. Doctor.
Perhaps you should complete your activity?"
She and Kirk both look
up. Spock is standing above him. Parts of him more perkily than others.
"I missed our
escape?" Kirk doesn't sound very
disappointed, and he takes his time crawling off her.
"We have not escaped
yet. There may be more aliens. I find it difficult to accept that they would
only send one in to feed us." Spock
turns to Scotty. "Have you made any
progress with the door?" Is his
voice...tender?
Chapel smiles as she follows
Kirk out of the cage. She wanders over
to let their comrades from the landing party out of their cages. Everyone looks relieved...and just a little
bit disappointed.
Kirk strides off, and she
hurries after him, trying to minimize any natural tendency to bounce.
"Jim," she whispers.
"Clothes would be a good thing."
"We'll see if you say
that later," he mutters back, loud enough that only she can hear. Well and super-hearing guy Spock too, judging
by the way his eyebrows go up.
Scotty is working diligently
on the door, seemingly unconcerned with his state of undress. She catches Spock watching some parts of
Scotty more intently than others, and smirks.
Another rising eyebrow is his only response to her enjoyment.
Kirk is looking around, as if
waiting for something bad to happen.
"Scotty...time is of the essence."
"Isn't it always,
sir." Scotty breathes in
satisfaction as the door opens.
"That's a good lass," he says as he pats the door. His eyes meet Spock's, and Chapel doesn't
think lasses are what's on his mind right now.
"This way," Kirk
says, leading the way to where their clothes lie in an abandoned heap. This was where the aliens shot them full of
the drugs that are making them so crazy.
She remembers the aliens stripping off their clothes. Remembers being
scared...until she was thrown in the cage with Kirk. Funny, that.
She wonders if she would have been quite so sanguine if Spock had been
her cage-mate.
Spock is the first one
dressed. Rummaging through a drawer, he
pulls out their communicators and phasers.
He opens one of the communicators.
"Spock to Enterprise."
"Enterprise here,
sir." Uhura sounds relieved.
"Eight to beam up."
"Aye, sir." There is a pause, then she says,
"There's a lot of interference. It
will be a few more minutes."
Chapel forces herself to
stand up straight, trying to look like she's been doing anything but screwing
their captain nonstop. She pats at her
hair? Does she have bed hair?
"Here," Kirk
reaches over, adjusts her collar for her.
"Much better." His eyes
are warm.
She pitches her voice low, so
only he can hear it. "I'm going to
recommend to Len that we be relieved of duty until the drug wears off. We should stay in our quarters." She looks at him, wondering if he will see
the set up she just gave him.
He does. "Whose quarters?"
She smiles. "The age-old question."
"Mine are nicer,"
he says.
"Well, that was
easy." She can't help but
smile. That was easy--easier than she
expected.
"Ready to
transport," Uhura says.
Chapel feels the familiar
strangeness of being beamed away. As
they dematerialize, she sees a bunch of the aliens coming into the room they
are fleeing, pushing something that looks like a maid's cart. One of them even waves to her.
"Did you see that?"
Scotty asks.
"Damned odd." Kirk leads them out of the transporter room
towards sickbay.
"Uhura to Kirk."
"Yes, Commander."
"Sir, we're getting an
incoming transmission from the planet."
"A hail?"
"No, sir. A bill.
From the Henlexian Pleasure Hotel.
Their motto is 'Your fantasy is our reality.'" There is a long silence, then what sounds
like muffled laughter. "You get
souvenir pictures as part of your vacation package. How many would you like me to order?"
"None!" all eight
of them say at once.
"They also included a
customer satisfaction survey. Shall I
read you the questions, Captain?"
"That will be all,
Uhura."
"Aye-aye,
sir." Again the sound of muffled
laughter.
"We can trust her to be
discreet." Kirk sounds like he
fervently hopes that is the case.
"We can." Chapel prays Uhura doesn't try to pump her
for the gory details. She never has any luck
keeping the truth from her friend.
"'Bout damn time you got
here." McCoy is waiting at the door
to sickbay with a big "I can't wait to tease Spock about this" grin
on his face. So much for discretion.
Chapel has a sudden terrible
feeling that Uhura is up on the bridge right now ordering enlargements of their
vacation pictures. She looks at Kirk; he
seems to have just had the same idea.
"She's our friend,"
she says softly.
"Just keep telling
yourself that," he says, grinning despite the worry in his eyes. It's still a devastating expression.
She takes Len aside. Explains what happened with as little detail
as possible. He scans them and then
pulls out a hypo.
"The antidote?"
Kirk asks, a note of disappointment in his voice.
"Vitamins," McCoy
says with a crooked smile. He loads up
an extra one. "A double dose for
you, Spock."
"Very funny,
Doctor."
"Oh, I have not even
begun to get funny, Spock." McCoy
winks at the Vulcan, laughs when all he gets is a disdainful eyebrow.
"Okay, you're all off
duty for"--he scans them again--"the next twenty-four hours."
"It'll last for another
twenty-four hours?" Scotty asks, with a gleam in his eye.
"No, Mister Scott, it'll
last for another ten hours. Then I
expect you to sleep for the next fourteen." He makes shooing motions. "Now, get out of here. All of you."
Chapel holds back, notices
Kirk is too, and they are the last out and end up trailing behind the
others. She sees that they are all
heading for different lifts, no one wanting to see who is ending up with whom,
apparently.
"So, my
place?" There is something in
Kirk's eyes. Something unsure.
"I don't have to sleep
over." She can hear a note of hurt
in her voice, wants to make a joke out of this but can't think of one.
"But I want you to. That's what worries me."
"Well, Captain,"
she says, as she leads him to the lift.
"I don't think either of us are in any shape to make major life
decisions today. I do know what we are in
shape to do though." She waggles
her eyebrows at him, and he laughs.
"We'll worry about it
tomorrow then?" he asks with another "I taught the sun how to
shine" grin.
"That would be my expert
medical advice."
"Well, I would never
argue with a medical expert." His
hand moves swiftly over her body, hitting all the important spots in the short
exploration--he could be a medical expert himself.
The lift lets them out, and
he leads her quickly--very, very quickly--down the corridor toward his
quarters. His door opens, and he pulls
her into his quarters and has her clothes off almost before she can stop to
think that she's never been here before.
"I can call you
Jim?"
"You can,
Christine." He pulls her
close. "Nobody ever calls you
Chris, do they?"
She smiles. "Not very much."
"I think I
will." He pulls her close. "I
like having a name just for me."
"Oh, sure, one night and
you're all territorial." But she's
smiling, and she smiles even more as he pushes her onto the bed, holding her
arms down.
"Yeah, that's me. Cave man captain."
"Cave man lover,"
she murmurs just before she kisses him.
"Lover." He looks down at her. "I like the sound of that."
"I do too. Now you going to slack off all night or
what?"
He laughs and stops talking.
It's fifteen hours before
they finally stop being lovers and fall asleep.
When morning comes, it is surprisingly easy to get ready together,
wonderfully comforting to feel him pull her close for a goodbye kiss before they
go their separate ways.
And later, a message appears
on her screen. "I don't think it's
worn off yet. Any advice?"
"Really?" she
writes back. "It's worn off
everybody else." Except for maybe
Spock and Scotty. She thought she saw
the engineer sneaking out of Spock's lab at lunchtime.
"Dinner might
help," appears on her screen.
"What kind of doctor
would I be if I said no?"
"A terrible one. I'll pick you up at the end of the
shift."
She smiles, walks out to the
main ward. McCoy is checking some
bioreadings.
"Everything okay?"
he asks.
"Sure is."
"Jim's okay? I mean in your professional medical
opinion?" He is smiling.
"Oh, he's more than
okay."
His smile grows bigger. "That's just dandy, darlin'. Now, don't you have some work to do? I can't be carrying all the weight around
here."
"Right." She walks back to her office.
"Oh, and
Christine?"
She turns.
"Nice pictures."
She's sure that her entire
body is blushing. Bubble-headed aliens
suddenly seem like the pervert of choice.
But she forces herself to keep her head high. "Why, thank you, Len." Then she flees to her office. But as she reaches the door, she turns and
says, "You're just jealous."
"Oh, you have no idea,
darlin'. No idea." He winks at her, making her wonder which of
their crewmates he might like to be caged up with.
"Why, Doctor," she
says in her best drawl. "Where did
that southern gentleman go?" She
sticks her tongue out at him, then turns for the welcoming privacy of her
office.
His gentle laughter follows her
in.
She works until her shift is
over, trying to ignore how certain areas of her body are very tired--and
mightily overused.
"Are you as sore as I
am?" Kirk whispers from her doorway.
"More." She turns to look at him. "You know you don't owe me anything,
right?"
He smiles. "I know that. This is me, here because I want to
be." He studies her. "I could
say the same thing to you."
She smiles. "You could. But it would be a terrible waste of
time."
His grin is more relieved than
devastating, and she finds that unexpectedly touching.
"Are you hungry?"
she asks.
"Starved." His eyes are gentle. Until they rake over her body in a very slow
once over.
"I meant for food."
"Oh, is that what you
meant?" He moves aside to let her
out of her office. "I don't
normally do this, Chris. You know
that."
"How long have I served
under you, Jim? Believe me, I
know." She smiles. "I hope you tipped those aliens."
He smiles, and it's a
secretive smile.
"What?"
"I may have inquired
about what other vacation packages they offer." This time his smile is a slightly scary
expression.
"I don't want to
know."
"No?"
"Well...maybe I
do." She smiles up at him. "How's Spock?"
"I have no
idea." He chuckles. "Actually, he asked how I was. And ummm how you were."
"He inquired about my
well being?"
"I think he meant how
you were in the sack." Kirk
grins. "But maybe I
misunderstood?"
"I think you probably
did," she says as they turn into the mess hall.
The mess is busy. For a moment, a lot of eyes are turned to
them. Then they turn away again, and
life goes on.
"Well. That was anti-climactic." Kirk frowns.
"I expected--"
"Censure?"
"Well, at least a little
interest." He laughs, but it is a
perplexed sound.
"Sweetie, they are
interested. They are entirely
interested." She pushes him toward the chow line. "But they also love you, and perhaps
this is a surprise to you, but they want you to be happy."
"With you?"
"Well, I doubt they even
considered me as an option." She makes a face that gets a grin out of
him. "But yeah, I'll do." She bumps up against him, hears him make a
happy sound.
"So, I should
relax?"
"Well...not too
much." She's sure her grin rivals
his for sheer deviltry.
"Understood,
Doctor." He sighs, and it is a
happy sound.
"So, these other
vacation packages...I take it the aliens don't make a practice out of capturing
innocent people and humiliating them?"
"Not their repeat
customers. Unless, of course, they want
to be humiliated. They're pretty much
full service in that department."
"Nice." She moves closer, suddenly not caring that
parts of her feel like they were in a marathon.
"I'm not into humiliation."
"Funny. I'm not either."
She can tell he wants to kiss her, has to force herself not to lean in. "Maybe that drug really hasn't worn
off?"
"No, Chris. It's us that
hasn't worn off." He winks at
her.
The crewman behind them
coughs softly.
Kirk turns and sees that the
person ahead of them has gotten very far ahead of them. "Sorry," he says, blushing
slightly.
"No problem,
sir." The crewman smiles. At both of them.
As they hurry to close the
gap, she studies Kirk. He looks
happy. As happy as she feels. It's a rather unexpected emotion, not one
she's had all that much experience with.
She has a feeling she's going
to like it.
FIN