All of these lovely beings belong to the entity known as Paramount/Viacom. I just like to dress them up funny. Any and all feeback is enthusiastically requested.
This is rated R.
Blast from the Past
raucous laughter of students erupted through the
The young Vulcan stared about disapprovingly. This sort of behavior would not be tolerated in his circles. Not one bit.
Twelve hours ago, he had been quite impressed with the Vancouver Institute of Technology. Unfortunately, since the last grades had been posted eleven hours ago, the normally studious student body had metamorphased into drunken idiots. Terrans, he thought. He would never understand them.
Actually, he had never felt so Vulcan before in his life. VIT had an eighty-nine percent human population, but as far as he had seen this evening, he was the only Vulcan.
He sighed at his own irrationality. The fact that there were no other Vulcans present was the true reason for attending the seminar. Dr. Z'yth'ka's
newest findings in quantum theory were ground breaking, and the application to warp engines could change the face of interstellar exploration
exponentially. However, he could have stayed home and bought the taped version instead of frivolously spending his ever dwindling resources on a round trip ticket. The travel time from Vulcan to Earth was significantly longer than the seminar's duration.
He wanted to explore the galaxy, to taste forbidden fruit, to drink strange water. His father's cold voice rang in his ears, "The Vulcan Science Academy. *That* is your only choice. The matter is not open for discussion."
At the moment of his refusal to conform, he was no longer son and heir to his family's vast estates. He was now the son living in the room above the flitter containment unit. He supposed it could have been worse, his parents could have made him move into the subterranean storage area.
He strongly suspected they were disinheriting him at that very moment. Perhaps being disinherited and dishonored were not the worst things after all, he mused as his mood unexpectedly lifted. His sudden loss of wealth and status could have instantly made him an unsuitable bondmate for she-who-would-be-his-wife.
That is what Terrans would refer to as the "cloud with a silver lining". A near smile crossed his face as he contemplated being able to select his own life
partner. Someone who would complete the empty parts in his katra, not just endure him once every seven years for the sake of propagation. He wanted, no--needed, someone with their own ideas and values. The thought of being paired with a woman who was only interested in fulfilling her role in Vulcan society, doing only what was expected and required of her, sickened him. Their joining would be an empty charade that would suffocate him, until he became as robotic and lifeless as she.
Angry voices interrupted his reverie as he saw a young couple stagger around the corner of a nearby building. Obviously intoxicated, the young male began to tug on the female's arm.
"Chris..", he whined drunkenly. "I'm sorry. She doesn't mean anything to me. I was really, really, really, drunk at S'yeff's party. I wouldn't have slept with her, forget it," he interrupted himself, "I wouldn't have even *talked* to her if I was sober. Honest." With the last plea, the male's lower lip protruded as his eyes looked upwards in faux earnestness.
"Fuck off!", the female exclaimed as she whirled around towards him. Jabbing him in the chest with her forefinger she advanced. "You pathetic shit head! I have wanted to dump your sorry ass for nearly two weeks! I was going to wait until after finals and your birthday tomorrow..." she broke off, looking at the large clock tower which dominated the campus skyline, "Or should I say today! Happy fucking Birthday, asshole!"
With that final expletive, she turned and ran smack-dab into two hundred pounds of solid Vulcan. As he helped her off the ground, the Vulcan road block couldn't help staring into her simultaneously blue and red eyes.
Fascinating colors in these people, he thought.
"Take a holo-vid, butt head, it lasts longer!", she snarled as she started to wobble away unsteadily.
"My name is not Butt Head, it is S-", he started.
"Tell it to someone who gives a crap!"
"Why would I desire to converse with someone who was handing me..."
"Never mind! It's just an expression." She glanced at him speculatively. "Don't you have anything better to do than spy on people having private
"I was not spying," he replied haughtily, "and at the volume of communication at which you were engaging, you could hardly consider your conversation private. I noticed your disagreement, and was on my way to see if you were in physical danger."
"The only one in any physical danger was Mr. Happy Pants back there. I held off for weeks breaking up with him, because I would feel like a bitch dumping him right before his birthday. Then, I find out he's hooked up with at least two other girls behind my back." She stopped her angry stride as she looked into his eyes, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "I was trying to be a decent person, and I got screwed over. It's not fair."
He looked at he with puzzled eyes. "But, if you wanted him to screw you, why did you terminate your relationship with him? Is that not counter
productive to your agenda?"
A sound halfway between a hiccup and a snort assaulted his ears. The strange female then threw back her blue (?) tressed head and laughed maniacally.
Strange, he thought. How marvelous it must be to gleefully release the emotions that others felt it necessary to squelch. Surely it serves no logical
purpose, yet she looks so pleased.
"You!" She gasped, her laughter subsiding. "You, my friend are a hoot!" As he was about to question the topical relevance of nocturnal birds of prey, she continued. "Listen, I know you come from a desert planet and are probably freezing your ass off. What's say we go to that really loud party up the street and have a few drinks?"
"I do not consume alcohol. Besides," he added, noting her dilated pupils, "have you not consumed enough?"
"My dear green blooded friend, yours truly is sporting the mildest of buzzes. I will have you know that I was far more inebriated than this when I earned the highest grade *ever* on the standard Advanced Xeno-Biology Exam."
"I shudder to think what the learning curve is here," he remarked dryly.
Chris drew herself up to her full five feet and ten inches, and found she still had to look up at the Vulcan. Shit, she thought inwardly. A prime
intimidation move wasted. Puffing her chest
out with mock-pomposity, she intoned, "The Vancouver Institute of
Technology has been the university of choice of many
high ranking Federation Officials. VIT's alumni lists contain four former presidents, six
Federation Chief Justices, and the guy that started "Durath's
Big & Tall Shops. Let's see the
face darkened momentarily. "What
makes you believe I attend the
shit." I apologize. That was really tacky of me. I shouldn't assume things like that. Just because your Vulcan does not mean that
you have to attend the
"I wish you had been there when I was debating that issue with my father. Perhaps coming from you, the concept wouldn't have seemed so illogical."
any time I'm needed to be the voice of reason, you know that the situation is
dire at best." she laughed.
"Wait a minute, " she turned and
walked backwards to look at him.
"You had the opportunity to go the
"My family wanted me to go, but I feel that my future lies elsewhere".
"You had the opportunity to attend the premiere institute of learning in the freakin' universe and you said *no*! Are you nuts?"
"It would not be right for me to attend. It would be wrong for me to usurp the place of a student who genuinely wished to be there." He stopped and stared deeply into her blue eyes. "Do you think I should put my family's status above someone's right to the education they had earned?"
She looked at him ruefully and replied, "No I don't. I respect the fact that you took a stand. It takes a lot of courage to stand up to family pressure.
Believe me, I know. By the way, what I said earlier really wasn't me. I guess I'm channeling for my sister. I guess once I start dressing like my mother
and driving like my grandmother the dark transition will be complete." Chris looked into the stars and laughed bitterly. "Family: can't live with them, but
it's hard to climb out of the gene pool."
They walked in heavy silence for a few moments.
"Regarding your earlier offer," he intoned, "I am really not interested in attending the party. I seem to have reached my tolerance level for intoxicated
"I'll do you a favor and not take that personally. I'm really not up for it either. Everyone will either demand a replay of the break up you were lucky enough to witness, or be at that pathetic, maudlin *We'll never see each other after graduation* group hug scenario. And," she added, kicking a pebble with much more force than necessary, "since I'm three credits short and will *not* graduate with them next week, I will be the weepy-est one of the bunch."
"You are behind academically?", he asked in a horrified (for a Vulcan) voice as his left eyebrow arched skyward.
"Relax. There's still a good chance I won't end up a serial killer."
"I see no need for sarcasm. My culture places a high value on education and intellectual improvement."
"Yeah, and my culture invented the bumper car. Hate to burst your bubble, Sparky, but the reason I will graduate next semester is not due to failure. I took some time off during my first semester, and I've had to play catch up ever since."
"Why did you not wait until after you secured your degree to pursue other interests?" he queried.
She looked down at the ground as they continued walking. "Long story. It was something I needed to do at the time. We're here." she announced abruptly as they approached a gray building of late 21rst century design.
"We are where?"
"It was very enlightening talking with y..."
"Why don't you come in?" she offered, momentarily shy. "I mean, I really like talking to you and, she added as she leaned her back against the door, "just because we've reached the destination doesn't mean that the journey's over..."
He stared blankly at her until his mind clicked back into gear. "I too, am enjoying this conversation. You have ...unique viewpoints which intrigue me."
Once inside the building, Chris led him up a dim, steep staircase. VIT had not changed much since it's inception in the late 21rst century. Replicators were not available in dorms, and the elevator was restricted to students with disabilitities. The whole campus had a post-Eugenics air that he found quite
As he looked toward the antiquted skylights, his view was obstructed by Chris's leather-clad backside. Not that he was complaining. Not at all. His gaze traveled upwards, past the waistaband of her tight pants, over the pale skin exposed by her halter top. He got a quick glimpse of a design on her right shoulder blad before it was obscurred by her indigo mane of hair.
His hand reached out to sweep away her hair when he froze. What in the name of Surak was he doing? Why was he entering a strange building with a very strange young woman he just met twenty minutes ago? What would his family say? What would his bondmate-to-be say? How much further away was her room?
Noticing his hesitation, she turned and asked, "Are you coming, or what?"
"I am com-, uh...I am walking up the stairs behind you."
As they reached the fourth floor, Chris turned he back and keyed her PIN into the door lock. Politely averting his eyes, he took in the nuances of the dim corridor. The multitude of aromas nearly overwhelmed him. Beer, stale food, male and female musk, and Andorian s'Kreffi were all present in large
quantities. There was also a pungent, smoky smell he could not identify.
"Voila!" she chirped as the door opened and she led him into an even darker room. She turned on the lights. He almost wished she hadn't. He now
understood the human saying, "Ignorance is bliss". Clothes, holo vids, and empty bottles littered the floor. The scents he previously believed were in the
hallway were actually emanating from her room and were a hundred times more intense.
Seeing his rapidly wrinkling nose, she slyly smiled at him and said, "OK, you've figured it out. My roommate and I are less than tidy."
"Less than tidy?" he echoed in disbelief. "I am simply amazed that your planet apparently has no environmental protection services. Shocking,
considering how technologically advanced your people are. Were you not boasting earlier about your universally acclaimed "bumper cars"?
"Sarcasm becomes you. Really. Don't let the taunts of others convince you otherwise." Shaking her head, she looked at him ruefully. "What did you expect? I was still studying for my final at 11am. This room hasn't been cleaned in weeks. I can't even remember the last time I did my laundry."
"The clothes you are wearing seem to be fresh." He said, looking at her appraisingly until he caught himself and looked away.
"What's the old saying?" she mused, "It's not a problem when you don't have clean underwear, it's a problem when your roommate doesn't have clean
"You have just given me far too much information."
"You'll live. Now, the way I see it", she said as she began cramming everything on the floor under a twin bed at the far end of the room, "out of sight, out of mind." Once it's under Larry's bed, it's his problem. Only fair when you consider that the majority of the beer bottles in the room belong to him."
"There," she said as she stood up and brushed herself off. "Much better, wouldn't you say?"
"The room is still rather pungent," he said as good manners gave way to basic survival.
"Whine, whine, whine. Here, help me with these," as she indicated the two windows.
"Your windows open?" he said incredulously. "I assumed the building was climate controlled."
"It is. but there's nothing like fresh air, especially when yur roommate likes to...indulge. There are some scented candles in the drawer to your
left. They should help de-stinkify the room for you."
She looked up to see him staring into the drawer with a faint green flush on his cheeks. Catching her eye, he stammered, "There are only female undergarments in this drawer."
"Look behind the underwear. The candles will be in the back of the drawer. I forgot that underwear was in there. Clean underwear *in* a drawer. What are the odds?"
"I am somewhat uncomfortable with this situation." he murmured as he reached through the twisted assortment of silk panties and grabbed four candles.
"Get over it. What do you think your mother wears?"
"That imagery is not helping."
"Paging Dr. Freud..." she muttered under her breath as she lit the four eucalyptus candles.
Chris walked over to what he now assumed to be her bed and took the cover off with a flourish. She spread the coverlet on the floor before adding pillows from both beds. Grinning, she sidled past him to a small refrigeration unit. Producing two brown bottles, she silenced his protests with a smile. Sitting on the coverlet, she handed him an open bottle of beer. He
knelt down beside her, awkwardly. He hadn't sat on the floor since he was a pre-Kahs Wan child.
"So," she said, clinking her bottle against his, let's get back to that fascinating conversation..."
"And," he slurred, "that is how I became bonded at the tender age of seven."
"You're kidding." she exclaimed, her blue eyes wide with amazement. She peered anxiously into his face, searching for signs of deception. "You're not
kidding", she concluded. "Are you two reuniting some ancient dynasty long torn asunder, or is this business as usual?"
"The practice is quite common on Vulcan. It is only logical that clans of similar backgrounds intermarry to insure compatibility. Otherwise, a bonded couple would be subjected to differences of opinions and new ideas that would distract them from their daily routine."
"And that would be bad, how?" she queried as she opened another bottle of beer.
"My culture places a high value on domestic stability. If it wasn't for the carefully planned bondings, unbonded males would be--" he broke off suddenly and became very interested in the label on his bottle.
"Unbonded males would be what?"
"It is a private matter. I do not wish to speak of it further."
"Pretty please with sugar on top?"
"That sentence makes no sense whatsoever."
"Ok, no problem. You don't wish to continue our current topic of conversation, and I respect that. Here," she said as she brightened suddenly, "have another beer and a brownie."
The room grew quiet except for the sound of his chewing the dry brownie.
"So," Chris wondered aloud, "what would your fiancee..."
"Whatever. What would she think of you spending time with me this evening?"
"As long as we are off-world and she and I have not completed our bond, I do not believe she would care what I do with you."
She looked up sharply. "So, what happens off-world stays off-world?"
"I do not understand."
She exhaled a long breath. "There is no need to. I shouldn't attach my culture's expectations on your lifestyle. Once again, I wax Terro-centric."
He sat back against the side of the bed as he pondered the sudden unease between them. Hoping to return to their earlier light heart banter, he asked, "Have you ever been to Vulcan?"
"No," she said with a rueful grin. "The furthest I have ever been away from home was a space station in the Denevan System. Hardly makes me the queen of intergalactic travel. Do you think I would enjoy Vulcan?"
He glanced away briefly. "No. Perhaps not. While my people embrace Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations in theory, in reality Vulcan is a
difficult place to live if one is ....different."
"Are you speaking as the voice of experience?"
"No." He stated emphatically, and almost too quickly. "I was merely thinking of a boy I once knew who was considered different by his peers, even by his own family."
"Alright, if you don't want to discuss it we won't. Although, I'm sure that *boy* has probably overcome his issues and most likely has a stronger sense of empathy and personal character due to his earlier
hardships." she said as she looked penetratingly into his eyes and softly touched his hand.
His eyes widened at the unexpected physical contact, and he trembled slightly as he felt a sensation of compassion from her.
"Does it bother you that I am bonded to another?" he asked.
Slightly startled, she replied, "Sort of. Only because you seem so unhappy about it."
"Vulcans do not experience happiness or unhappiness."
"That would have sounded much more credible pre-beer." she replied with a grin. "I mean, hell. Are you two going to ignore each other until she strolls down an aisle in a big, poufy, white dress?"
"Vulcan women do not wear big, poufy...Poufy. Pouf-ee" he said drawing out the last syllable. "That is such an odd word. I do not believe there is an
equivalent in the Vulcan language. Poufy..."
"That brownie hit you rather quickly, eh?" she asked with a smile.
"Actually, I ate more than one. Three to be precise. I thought it only wise since I was consuming alcohol." He looked up, suddenly having difficulty looking into her eyes.
"And..." she gently prompted.
"And, I did not eat today. Yesterday." corrected after viewing the chrono on the wall.
"They don't serve meals on shuttles anymore?"
"Somehow the staff at BudgetWarp thought <Vegetarian> was synonymous with <Kosher>. It really isn't." he added.
"OK," Chris giggled nervously as she glanced around at the empty beer bottles and brownie pan. "Empty stomach, eh?"
Precariously climbing to her feet, she clumsily made her way to the com. "I think an ancient earth delicacy is called for. You are in no shape to wander
around scavenging for food, and you will become quite hungry in the all too near future." Double and triple checking the codes, she looked over her should at the stunned Vulcan. "Relax," she said with a smile, "You
are going to be here for a while.
Leaning over him, and affording him a definitely non-bondmatesque peek down the anything-but-demure neckline of her halter, she asked. "What do you like on your pizza?"
"Surprise me." he said, surprising himself in the bargain.
The pizza turned out to be the finest he had ever tasted. Tangy, green peppers, smoky portabello mushrooms lovingly caressed by sweet, Sicilian tomato sauce were bound together by rich T'Nel Tha Cheese (Trademarked motto: T'Nel Tha, as close to Mozzarella as genetic engineering will allow.) The heady combination was sending his taste buds, nay, his very
essence into Warp 10. As he took another sip of his beer, because it was prudent to ingest liquids with solid food, he took the opportunity to surreptitiously look at his companion.
She sat cross-legged on the floor across from him. The expression on her face as she consumed her fifth piece could only be described as rapturous. Eyes closed, she began to lick the remnants of the tomato sauce off of her long, elegant, fingers.
He stared fixedly at the interplay between the tip off her very pink tongue and her silver painted fingertips, and wished for the first time in his existence he had been born a tomato instead of a Vulcan.
She opened her eyes and a wide smile spread across her face when she noticed his intense gaze. As he leaned toward her, propelled by unfamiliar desires, her eyes widened in surprise. Grasping her hand and bringing it
toward his face, his tongue snaked out to taste the unseen sauce on the back of her hand. He felt her shiver as he erased the culinary evidence, and sought
to immerse himself in the flavor of her skin.
Chris remained seated, yet her legs twitched restlessly in response to his oral ministrations. She had leaned back against the side of the bed, eyes now
closed as she moaned quietly. As his eyes fell upon her pink mouth, he was once again compelled to taste more, to know her more intimately. Leaning forward, he stopped mere centimeters from her face, allowing the warmth of her breath to fan against his skin.
Missing his tender attentions on her fingers, she opened her eyes to look straight into his. He saw many emotions warring in those blue mirrors of her
soul. Desire, trepidation and the unreal dreamlike state of her mild intoxication battled for control.
He started slightly when he felt the coolness of her hand travel up the back of his neck as she snaked her fingers though his hair. A tiny, still rational, part
of his brain cried out to him as she began to pull him towards her. "I am," he whispered hoarsely, "bonded to another. I should not--"
"She doesn't seem to be in the room right now," Chris purred as she pushed herself toward him. Their lips met, clumsily and hungrily. He lost himself in the warm silk of her lips, until his own parted to admit her persistent tongue.
Adrenaline shot through his body like wildfire. He clutched at her, desperate to feel more of her body against his own. Leaning back, he pulled her on top
of him as he swiftly ran his hands over her body. Firm, long muscles under smooth flesh imprinted themselves into his memory forever. His hands
caressed her bare shoulders as he marveled on how much smoother they were compared to her silk halter top.
As she writhed pleasurably on top of him, his hands traveled further down, across the cool skin of her back, down to her firm, leather-clad buttocks. He
gripped her cheeks hard, reveling in the way they yielded under his fingers as he manipulated her against his hardness.
He felt her stiffen at the indisputable proof of his arousal. Chris broke the kiss and pulled back, looking at him searchingly. Sweeping her eyes across
his face, her blue gaze fell on his elegantly pointed ear tip. A small, sensuous smile flickered across her face as she leaned forward again, gently pushing his chin to the right.
He gasped loudly sa the tip of her tongue made contact with the tip of his ear. Her tongue gently flickered around the sensitive tip in light flutters, punctuated by random strokes toward the inner chamber. Trembling, he lost himself in the sensation of her earlingus.
Intense waves of pleasure rippled through his body for minutes, hours? He couldn't tell. Time, Vulcan, the shaky state of his future; meant nothing compared to the newly discovered erogenous zones. He gripped her
thighs harder as he ground himself against her pelvis. After many wonderful moments, he felt her hands press against his shoulders as she pushed herself up to straddle him. Smiling a smile that could only be described as kittenish, Chris reached behind to unclasp the back of her halter. The multi colored
scrap of silk floated gently to the ground as he lay there, speechless.
She gently clasped his hands and drew them up her slender torso. His hands reached her breasts, tentatively brushing her hard nipples, as she began to
move against him, rocking in ancient rhythm against his hardness.
He watched her in stunned silence. Her flesh was warmer now, no where near Vulcan warm, but warmer than she had been moments ago. The pale ivory of her skin was flushed pink, reminding him of the d'Hyt Ra
flowers that grew in the deserts east of Shi Kahr.
A low moan from Chris pulled his attention back to her. He felt a surge of adrenaline shoot to his groin as her steady rhythm became a frenzied spasm. She collapsed on top of him as he wrapped his arms around her, rejoicing in the unfamiliar intimacy of physical contact.
She turned her head to look him in the eye. "That was terrific," she said with a lazy smile drifting across her face, "but I think it's your turn." she kissed
him, with a satiated lethargy that invited him to take his pleasure. He responded to the touch of her lips as his hands once again traced patterns on her bare, flushed back.
She broke off the kiss and pushed away from him slightly. He jumped as her fingers unfastened the seam of his shirt. Chris's eyes lit up as she gazed at
the smooth expanse of his chest and lowered herself on to him, flesh to flesh.
A myriad of images flashed through his mind; the pet sehlat he had a as child, a burgundy hued sun set over the P'Leth Tower in the ancient province of T'Elniar, his bondmate's chronically disapproving countenance...
Mentally shoving that last memory aside, he grabbed Chris more forcefully and rolled over, turning her beneath him. His technique became more assertive and hungry. As he trailed his lips down her jawline to her
throat, his fingers teased her nipples into hardness again.
He felt her responsive moan shudder throughout her body. He pulled back slightly to look into her blue eyes and saw passion and desire that rivaled his own. He froze momentarily to get his bearings, and as he would later realize, to give her once last chance to end this delicious insanity. His patience was rewarded by the feel of her fingers tugging at the opening of his pants. The opening was simple, but her compromised coordination caused her fingers to fumble tantalizingly at his groin.
He drew in his breath an let it out slowly as he made his decision. Reaching for her, he unfastened the catch of her leather trousers in a precise, and
They rolled apart, to divest themselves the the rest of their clothing. That finished, they once again turned as they visually explored each other's bodies.
Surprised crossed both of their faces as the simultaneously exclaimed...
His first coherent thought upon awakening was that a diseased le-matya had broken into the dormitory and defecated in his mouth. He cracked one eye open warily and surveyed the room. From his vantage point on th floor, he spied clothing thrown askew, several empty beer bottles, and discarded food containers--all illuminated in the hideous light of day.
He shivered and drew the comforter closer around himself and his companion. He looked down at her sleeping form, while attempting to catalogue the events of last night. Food, alcohol, more food, more
alcohol, intercourse, intercourse, inter--no. He was fairly certain he had lost consciousness by that point.
He stretched and suppressed a wince at the pain due to his ethanol ingestion. "Illogical," he thought to himself, "that such an intelligent species used such a
poison as their recreational drug of choice. He couldn't suppress the next wince as he realized he was now included in that category. He was contemplating a rather difficult discussion with his bondmate, when the woman beside him stirred.
"Oh god...." She murmured as she curled herself in a tighter ball.
"Oh god?" He repeated. "You said that many times last evening. Have I inadvertently intruded on a day of religious observance?"
"I'll answer anything," Chris replied, "but please quit shouting." She sat up, fists balled against her temples and eyes squeezed shut. As she rose
unsteadily to her feet, his eyes took in her nude form. The discomfort of his hangover subsided as last night's desires returned.
She stumbled to the lavatory, and turned on the light. "Crap," she mumbled. "Lights at thirty percent. I don't know why Larry insists leaving them on one hundred. The light of day isn't all it's cracked up to be."
He heard fumbling noises and expletives punctuated by the sounds of items hitting the hard tile floor.
"Found the ethanol absorbers," she exclaimed. "OK, the label says for Humans, Klingons, Orions, Caitans, and Nortanians. It doesn't even mention Vulcans."
"I do not believe my people are their target demographic," he replied.
"Well, better safe than sorry. It looks like you will have to endure your hangover at full force," she retorted while gulping down three capsules.
"If I may stay here for another two hours, a glass of water and a healing trance would make my symptoms... less distracting."
"Two hours? Sure, no problem. I have to run several errands this morning, anyhow. Will you be all right here alone?"
"The only thing I require is silence." he replied neutrally.
"OK, but..." she broke off as she took in the Vulcan's rigid form and closed eyes.
"Must be nice to be able to check out without the baggage," she mumbled, heading towards the shower.
He felt himself rising, the hot sand of Vulcan falling away from his body as the blistering wind bore him aloft to the crimson sky. He gazed up into the white hot sun, warmth pleasantly coursing through his nerve endings. As he drew closer, he closed his eyes as he attempted to breathe in the scorching vapors. "Odd", he wondered , "when did the sun start smelling like beer?"
He awoke with a start and glanced around the filthy room. Judging by the angle of the sunlight on the carpet, several hours had gone by. He rolled to his side and ignored a mild wave of nausea.
"Greetings, stranger." a mocking voice intoned as a boot top came into his line of vision.
His gaze traveled up the dark gray pant leg of a surprisingly conservative suit. A bigger surprise followed when he noticed the once blue hair was now a
"Like it?" she queried as she spun around on her tip toes. The movement did little to abet his already compromised digestive system.
"I will say whatever you like if you and the room would both stop moving."
"All right, someone's a cranky boy in the morning."
"Vulcans are not cranky. We merely do not engage in frivolous pleasantries."
"I dunno," she said with a mock leer, "you seemed frivolously pleasant last night."
"And you," he countered, "seem to have a more positive outlook than you did earlier last night."
"It's amazing how six orgasms and gainful employment can change a girl's day." she replied with a smile.
"Six? But we only--never mind" he said hurriedley, as understanding spread across his normally stoic countenance.
"I had a last minute job interview this morning and had to pretend to be a responsible adult." she said as she picked up some of the empty food cartons and stuffed them down the recycler.
"A responsible adult? How long do you think you will be able to maintain the charade?"
"Hopefully long enough until my new boss realizes I'm indispensable. I give it two weeks, tops."
"Will you change your hair back to blue at that point?" he said. There was no logical reason for it, yet he found her change of appearance disquieting.
"I don't know. Possibly. For some mysterious reason," she started, as she knelt down on the blanket and slowly unfastened her collar, "I seem to be
obsessing over the color green."
"That sounds fortuitous for me."
He glanced at the dancing shadows on the cluttered floor.
"What time is it?" he asked as he stroked the hair of the drowsing woman in his arms.
She stifled a yawn and replied, "A little after two. Why?"
"My ticket... I should be on the 1600 shuttle to Alpha Centauri."
"Four o'clock??" She yelped as she sat bolt upright. "You'd better hurry! Hop in the shower and I'll toss your clothes in the fresher." she ordered, climbing off his prone form and attempting to sort his once clean clothing from the soiled garments on her floor. The station is only a half hour walk away, but it's usually bedlam on the weekend."
"I said," he replied slowly, putting emphasis on each word, "I *should* be on the 1600 shuttle to Alpha Centauri. I did not say I *had* to be..." he broke off, looking around the room with uncertainty in his
"Well," she said as she tossed his clothes on her bed and rejoined him on the floor, "I'm going to start the department orientation for my new job tomorrow afternoon, but if you just want to hang out for another day you could stay... Oh." She said flatly as she caught the quickly suppressed yearning in his eyes. "Uh...", she started nervously, "I think we need to talk."
"We talked for hours last night."
"We also did a few other things last night that probably warrant discussion."
"Last night..." she began again. "Last night was wonderful, but..."
"But?" he prodded.
"But we each have our own lives to return to. You have a lot of things to resolve with your family, not to mention, your bondmate. My priorities are keeping my new lowly and menial job to fund the one stinking course that is standing between me and my degree."
"You have no funds to further your education?" he asked in astonishment. He had assumed she had earned her right to enroll on her intellectual merit, not her ability to purchase her education."
"It's not quite that dire," she said with a droll look on her face. "I'm here on a partial scholarship. I really don't have a great relationship with anyone in my family. They would pay for my education, if I asked, but emotionally the price would be too high. Once I was no longer a minor, which was last year..." she grinned at his suddenly nervous expression, "I left."
"Left?" he said, aghast.
"Left." she repeated firmly. "Packed some clothes, sent my sister a subspace message so she wouldn't worry, walked out the door, and never looked back."
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Independence is not easy, but when it comes down to it, it's all anyone ever really has that's worth
fighting for." She grinned suddenly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Sorry to go all group therapy on you."
"You mentioned a sister," he said. "Could she assist you financially."
Chris snorted. "Possibly, but her idea of helping is an application to Starfleet Academy. Thanks, but no thanks."
"Starfleet Academy? I never would have thought of that as an academic option."
"Well, they're majorly humping for scientists right now. Apparently they've got their fill of the Terran, spit and polish, soldier-drones quota, and are
actually actively recruiting scientists and non-Terrans. Hell, even I could get in through those loopholes if I wanted to" she said derisively.
"You would not consider it?" he wondered.
She spared him a withering glance. "Why the hell would I want to join an organization that brags that I will do more before 0900 than most people do all day? That's hardly a selling point."
He suddenly stood up, dropping the comforter and beginning to dress. "Am I to infer", he asked coldly, "that you no longer want to see me?"
"Don't be like that. I would like to see more of you. Actually," she said as her eyes predatorily roamed over his nude body, "I'd like to see a lot more. But I've made some promises to myself and I need to focus on my goals right now." Smiling, she continued, "I would find you to be too deliciously distracting."
He stopped fastening his pants momentarily and sat on her bed. "I've never been described that way before."
"Don't let it go to your head." she warned as the tension eased and she once again felt the rapport they shared the night before, "It's just the post-coital
euphoria talking. When do you think you'll be on Earth again?" she asked, hopefully.
"I do not know. As you said, we both have much to think about." he replied.
"Fair enough." she said, more than a little crestfallen. "I really like you, and I don't want this to end badly, but I just can't honestly promise you anything right now."
"I do not wish to cause you distress. Last night has left me with so many questions. I am," he said as he drew her into an embrace, "pleased that I spent it with you. I hope to emulate your integrity and strength of character when I speak to my family. My family," he continued, "especially my father will not be pleased with what I must tell him. However, I do not wish to attend the Vulcan Science Academy anymore than I wish to remain bonded to T'..."
"Shhhh." She said as she snuggled in closer. "I really don't need to know her name."
He was about to inquire as to the logic of her statement, when he was suddenly distracted by her lips.
"I do not believe I have time to use your shower" he said as he struggled into his clothing.
"Probably not." she agreed, laying with her back against the pile of floor pillows and marveling at the Vulcan's stamina. "Would you like me to go to the station with you?" she asked.
"Your presence would serve no logical purpose, however I would like it. Very much." he added, almost shyly as he fastened his boots. "Unless you will be late for your new job."
"That's not until tomorrow, and my classes don't start until Monday. So much for my much needed rest." she finished glumly.
"You sounded more enthusiastic earlier." he noted.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that I was able to find anything at all at the last minute. Studying for my finals was my priority, so I didn't get my job application to the admininistrative department by the deadline. Which," she finished, "is how a nice Bio-Chem major like myself got stuck in the Archaeology Department."
"Do you anticipate difficulty due to your unfamiliarity with archaeology?" he asked.
"No. I'm pretty sure I'll be busy doing mundane office work, rather than actually dealing with artifacts. The department head, however will take the
assignment of a Bio-Chem student as a personal insult. Apparently this schmuck goes through assistants the way the rest of us go though toilet paper." she said conspiratorially.
"Charming imagery." he remarked drily.
"Yet true," she countered. "It says volumes that none of his grad students or TAs wanted the job. Also," she began, "borderline reliable campus rumor has it that his wife is not renewing their contract, which will make him an even happier camper."
"That does not sound promising." he observed as he emerged from the bathroom, drying his face on one of her cleaner towels.
"I can tolerate anything for a finite period, my friend." she said haughtily. "If it is my destiny to work for a cranky old fart, I'd rather get it out of
the way now while I'm young. When I become Dr. Christine Chapel, the most sought after research scientist in the galaxy, he will be lucky to be a
humorous anecdote in one of my many books." Eschewing the now rumpled suit for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, she surveyed her companion. "You look darn close to presentable, my friend. No one would ever suspect you've spent the last several hours in a drug and alcohol induced sex-fest."
"Good," he replied smoothly, "it will give me something to discuss with my fellow passengers on the long journey back to Vulcan."
She gaped at him for a full three seconds before doubling over in laughter.
"OK", she gasped, "that was just plain mean!" As her laughter subsided, she
impulsively leaned over and hugged him. "I know it's trite and cliched, but I'm going to miss you. I really, uh..." She pulled back from him as her cheeks and other parts of her still partially clothed anatomy blushed a bright pink.
"What is wrong?" he asked as concern tinged his normally neutral tone.
"This is so embarrassing." she said as her eyes darted around nervously. "Forget embarrassing," she added, "this is downright tacky."
"What is?" he demanded as his innate curiosity got he better of him.
"Um," she started as she proceeded to turn even more pink, "what's your name?"
With an uncharacteristic twinkle in his blue eyes, he replied, "My name is Stonn."