Friday, February 29, 2008

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Three Days

Here is the first part of my story about what happened during the three days after Psi 2000. More to come...

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters. The creative content belongs to me.

Archiving: ASCEM. THFFF. All others ask permission, please.

Day One~

Uhura walked down the corridor on deck five, her eyes watering from the powerful smell of the decontamination mist. Even with the cure for the infected crew and the inoculation of the uninfected crew, McCoy took no chances with the Psi 2000 virus. He ordered decon details to spray and scour down the ship the old-fashioned way and confined all but essential personnel to quarters.

Fortunately, the crew seemed to suffer no further effects of the virus other than a crushing fatigue--and in some cases, chagrin.

Before collapsing onto his bunk, Kirk sent an eyes-only packet to Admiral Nogura then ordered the navigator to plot a meandering, looping course out in deep space. The Enterprise chugged along on impulse power, trying not to disturb the timeline. They were literally going nowhere, very slowly, for the next three days.

Though she had not been infected with the virus, Uhura was coming down from the adrenaline high of the triple shift she just pulled—and from nearly dying a horrible screaming death in the atmosphere of Psi 2000. The captain instructed her to deliver Nogura’s reply to him as soon as it came in. After she dropped it off at his cabin, she looked forward to a long, hot shower and twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. She sneezed twice, rubbed at her eyes and yawned hugely, tasting decon mist. She silently cursed McCoy for his overkill.

Kevin Riley nearly collided with her as he left the officer’s mess. He stared at her with wide eyes and a bright red face. Uhura grinned and poked him in the belly as she went by.

“I can’t believe you’re hungry after all this,” she said, walking backwards.

“I—I.,” he said, looking back over his shoulder into the empty mess hall. “I’m sorry, lieutenant. I mean, for everything,” he said.

“It’s wasn’t your fault, Kevin. It’s actually kind of funny now.”

He brightened. “Really?” He dropped to one knee and cupped his hands over his heart. “I’ll take you home again, Kath—.”

“Not that funny.”

He jumped to his feet. “Sorry, lieutenant.”

Uhura tried to keep a stern face but the poor guy looked so miserable that she had to laugh.

“You’d better hit the sack before McCoy sees you,” she said. “You are definitely non-essential right now.”

He nodded glumly.

Uhura continued down the corridor to the captain’s quarters. Her finger hovered over the call button while she debated the best way to deliver the message. She knew Kirk was sleeping and didn’t want to disturb him. There was nothing worse than being jolted out of a deep sleep by the sound of a door buzzer. On the other hand, she woke him many times before and each time, he came awake instantly alert. He had been through so much in the last twenty-four hours, she felt terrible getting him up again. She could slip in and leave the data wafer on his desk where he’d see it when he awakened. But he’d ordered her specifically to deliver the message to him in person, ASAR and ---.

She must be really tired. She gave herself a little mental kick, pressed the door button and waited.

And waited.

Should she press it again? Should she just go in and wake him? What if he wasn’t asleep? What if he was in the shower?

“And what if you get busted down to ensign for not delivering the message as ordered, Uhura?” she asked herself.

She pressed the button again. She counted to sixty. She took a deep breath and stepped on the door sensor. The door swished open and she entered the captain’s quarters. She hesitated at the entry and had to hop out of the way as the door closed. The main room was dark but light glowed faintly from the sleeping alcove.

“Captain Kirk?” she called softly.

There was no answer. She took another step into the room.


She walked carefully to the alcove partition and peered into the gloom.

Kirk lay on his stomach with his arms shoved under the pillows. His hair was still damp on the ends and when she moved to the side of his bunk, she could smell soap and toothpaste and his warm body. There was a small cut in the corner of his mouth. His lips looked tender and swollen and his lashes seemed incredibly long resting against his cheeks. He was snoring softly.

She touched his bare shoulder. “Captain Kirk? The message from Admiral Nogura arrived,” she said.

He rolled over onto his back and turned his head toward her. His eyes opened slowly and he stared at her for a long moment.

“Am I awake?” he asked.

“I think so, sir,” she said. She forced herself to keep her eyes on his face. It was obvious that beneath the thin coverlet, he was naked.

“I dreamed that we were falling,” he said.

“We were.”

“Then we were at that beach on Aeon IV. Chekhov, Sulu. Bones went off with two--.” He cleared his throat. “The sun was hot. Everything was bright white and blue and green. Spock’s hair was so dark. You were flying.”

“Sounds beautiful.”

He frowned. “No. You were flying over the water. It scared me.” His eyes were huge.

She smiled softly. “I think you are still asleep, sir.”

He laid an arm across his eyes. “Can you play the message for me, please?”

“It’s EO, Captain. You wanted it hand-delivered.”

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He held the coverlet in his lap but Uhura could see where skin creased at his hip. He nodded.

“All right, lieutenant. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

She set the data wafer on his desk, glancing back. She stopped, paralyzed.

Kirk stood by his bunk. The coverlet had fallen from his lap. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, ran his fingers through his hair and stretched his arms above his head. His abdomen was slightly concave, the skin there smooth and pink-gold like the inside of a clam shell. His penis hung from its nest of brown curls, thickly semi-erect. He sighed and opened his eyes. He glanced at the coverlet on the floor then stepped quickly behind the alcove partition.

“Was there something else, lieutenant?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Uhura stammered.

They gazed at each other through the lattice. After a moment, Kirk placed his palm against the partition and squeezed his eyes shut, apparently too tired to be embarrassed. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

Uhura took a step toward him. “Are you unwell, sir?” she asked.

“You sound like Spock,” he chuckled.

“Can I do something for you?”

“I’m thinking that Bones put something besides supplements in that second hypospray.” He waved a hand. “I’m fine,” he said.

“If you’re sure?”

He nodded. “I’m just tired. And you look dead on your feet.”

“Thanks,” she said, smoothing her hair.

“Go to bed, lieutenant.”

“Aye, Captain.” She turned to go.


“Yes, sir?”

“I’m sorry I lost my temper. On the bridge. I know you were trying and--.”

“I understand. And you already apologized, sir.”

“It was uncalled for.”

She looked down at her hands, splayed her fingers then picked at the gold braid on her sleeve. “It seems like it hurt you more than it hurt me,” she said.

“It won’t happen again.”

“I hope you’re not planning on buying me flowers or something.”

“Uh, no. I-I wasn’t—unless--I mean I—.” He stopped when he saw her tired smile. “You’re teasing me,” he said.

“Yes, because it will happen again and you’ll apologize again and it won’t be necessary-- again.”

“So, we’re…okay?”

She blinked. “We were never not okay, Captain.”

He nodded.

“Anyway, I am dead on my feet, so I’m going to bed now,” said Uhura.

“Goodnight, lieutenant.”

“Goodnight, Captain.”

Out in the corridor, Uhura stopped and laid a hand on her chest. She took a deep breath then blew it out slowly. She straightened her shoulders and walked on.

End Chapter 1


Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Belated Valentine

If I hadn't been wracked by paroxysms of coughing and weakened by shivering fever on VD day, I would've posted this. Freddie Mercury rocks the house.