Saturday, May 30, 2009

Sequels & More girl6 FAQs

I've gotten a few questions about writing a sequel to "Happiness At Least". I did write one. It is called "Coda" and you can read it here. I'm afraid that's it for that story.

No planned sequel to "Disobedience of the Heart". Captain Ssizzeen, Praetor Zogozzin and other Gorn will be in other stories.

Yes. Golan will have another story of his own. It's still in my head but I will write it soon...ish. He is featured prominently in "The Prodigal Soul", so you Golan fangirls will have to get your fix there--whenever I get around to updating. I really like Golan, too.

Yes. People do steal my ideas. There's not a whole lot I can do about it. It'd be very difficult and expensive to sue someone over fan fiction--if it can even be done. You might be able to sue over creative content. When I discover that someone has jacked my work, they get outed loudly and get a severe internet beat down.

No. I don't do personal appearances.

No. Uhura is a completely different person from me. But if I were on the cast of Star Trek, I would've been fucking Leonard Nimoy every time I saw him.

Like, totally. Every time I saw him.

Zachary Quinto is a beautiful boy--and a couple months shy of being young enough to be my unplanned teen aged pregnancy. I just can't write "seriously" about him. Leonard Nimoy, OTOH--always and ever shall be.

Thank you, thank you for the gifts. They are lovely(except for that...whatever that was) but please, the economy's bad. Save your money. And it makes me very nervous to know how easy it is to find my address.

Aiight, Monkies. Thanks for Spock Jonesing. I think "The Obsidian Mirror" sucks. I'm off to do some major revisions.



Friday, May 29, 2009

Old Man Bar

You ever been to an old man bar? I mean, one of those dark, moldy places with red carpeting on the floor and Christmas lights from 1972 tacked around a mirror hung behind the shelves of booze? The place smells like funk and cigarette smoke, blue toilet cakes and piss and it may or may not have a jukebox or a solitary pool table that they put in a tiny room in the back so as not to disturb the people hunched at the bar.

It is a place for serious drinkers, people who don't look into the mirror behind the bartender, a place where no comparisons are made and hitting rock bottom is a thin memory, like faded photographs of a Disneyland vacation taken with the family as a child.

What? Too melodramatic?

The Obsidian Mirror NC-17 Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters. Original characters and creative content belong to me.

Read chapter one here.

The Obsidian Mirror

~~Chapter 2

I waited for Kirk to speak but he was silent, the confusion in his eyes turning into sharp assessment--further proof that this was a different man than the one who beamed down to the Halkan Planet this morning. In this same situation, the Kirk that belonged in this universe would be bellowing with rage, demanding explanations and ordering executions. This Kirk watched, waited, gathered information.

It was a mistake.

Transporter chief Kyle was observant. And an operative of Sulu’s. In a few moments, he would begin to see that something was amiss. I could easily dispatch him and the guards at the door but could not so easily explain away their murders. I stepped forward.

“Status of the mission, Captain?” I asked.

Kirk stared into my eyes as if searching for something.

“No change,” he said uncertainly.

“Standard procedure, Captain?” I prompted.

Kirk looked me over carefully. I could sense him strategizing. He was a skilled tactician but he was taking too long to answer. Finally, he nodded--not his customary response. I acted quickly to cover for this irregularity and issued the order to destroy the Halkan cities myself. Kirk looked alarmed.

“Military capabilities, Captain?” I asked, interrupting him before he could speak.

“None,” he said quietly. The confusion had returned to his eyes.

“Incredible that this society has chosen suicide,” I said.

Kyle glanced at me, suspicious. He pressed the com button on the transporter console, no doubt to alert Sulu. I had to act quickly to keep Sulu from investigating. And clearly, Mr. Kyle needed to be distracted.

“Mr. Kyle,” I said loudly. “You were instructed to compensate during the ion storm.”

“I tried to compensate Mr. Spock.—,” said Kyle.

“Carelessness with the equipment will not be tolerated.” I knew that Sulu was listening from the bridge. My charade would need to be realistic. I spoke over Kyle’s protestations.

“Your agonizer. Your agonizer, please.”

By now, it was likely that Sulu was watching through one of the recorders that he has installed throughout the ship. But if Sulu was coming, he would be here. I am certain that he continued to observe, solely for his own entertainment. Kyle cried out and writhed satisfactorily enough.

Though my back was to her, I felt Nyota’s horror like the sting of a wasp. It was unfortunate but necessary that she witness this. The other Uhura would have watched with narrowed eyes and parted lips and demanded that I apply the agonizer to the base of the skull where it could inflict the maximum amount of pain. I held the agonizer to Kyle’s chest until the charge was spent then dropped it indifferently unto the deck. I turned to Kirk and saw that my demonstration accomplished another thing: it served to further his understanding of what he and his crew beamed into.

He stood silent, pale, furious.

But Sulu was still watching. I brushed by Kirk and snapped orders at McCoy and Scott. They didn’t respond, instead closed ranks around Uhura, McCoy’s posture almost a challenge. I glanced at Uhura. Her eyes were wide but not frightened. She flattened her palm against the hilt of her dagger.

My blood warmed.

A chastened Kyle called me back to the transporter console.

“Mr. Spock, there was a power surge--.”

“Due to your error, Mr. Kyle.”

“No, Mr. Spock!”

I took advantage of the confusion.

“Captain, did you feel any abnormal effects?” I asked. I stared into his eyes.

Finally, Kirk understood.

“Yes,” he said. “Dr. McCoy, you’d better look us over. That was a rough beam up.”

Kirk strode towards the door then stopped. “Mr. Spock. Have those transporter circuits checked.”

In my opinion, his attempt at bravado was weak. It was apparently effective since Sulu had not appeared. As the four of them exited the transporter room, Uhura dropped her eyes from mine in a way that made my heart pound in my side. I concluded then that it was in my best interest to continue to assist this Kirk.

Additionally, I was beginning to find the situation…extremely interesting.

I clicked on the com.

“Golan, acknowledge,” I said.

“Golan, here.”

I spoke in Vulcan. “Please see that the captain and the landing party arrive at sick bay without incident.”

“Yes, S’haile.”

I ordered Kyle to an hour in the agony booth for good measure and to give me an opportunity to study the transporter logs. It was as I expected. I deleted the transporter logs and considered my options. This Kirk was thoughtful and restrained. It was likely that he and the landing party would debrief in sick bay.

My communicator beeped.

“Spock, here.”

“Mr. Scott has exited sick bay and is headed to engineering. Lt. Uhura is going to the bridge,” said Golan. “What are your orders?”

Kirk was information gathering again.

“Guard Miss Uhura,” I said. “I will be on the bridge shortly.”


“Golan--,” I began.

“With my life, S’haile,” he said.

End Chapter 2


Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Alright, Already!

But no more baby pictures!

Monday, May 25, 2009

You Don't Know?!

I received a few emails lately of people asking who's the guy in the cage in my profile pic.

That's Leonard Nimoy, circa the year before I was born.

The picture is a screen capture from "The Balcony"--a very interesting film and excellent cast: Peter Falk, Shelly Winters, Ruby Dee, Lee Grant. And then there's all the sweaty, dirty, half-naked Nimoy. He has such beautiful hands.

Make Your Face Ugly*

I wasn't going to go the teenybopper route with posting a lot of pictures of the babycute Star Trek movie cast (which I so totally do not do with all the hot Nimoy) but this I couldn't resist. This is so sexy, it even makes me want to fuck that motorcycle he's sitting on.

*"Make your face ugly
" informal-- apothem [org: Af-Amer, 19th cent]; verb. emphasis on 'your'; def: The contortion of the facial muscles and the utterance of the word "Day-um!" upon viewing an extremely attractive person. The expression on one's face during and/or upon recollection of excellent sexual intercourse. Ex: "Did you see ZQ in that video? Make your face ugly."

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

The Prodigal Soul NC-17 Chapter 6

Finally! Another chapter--though likely out of order in the finished product. Still, it is good I think, for now. Click on the links for

Chapter 1-3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

At some point I will put it all in one post.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters. All creative content, plot and original characters belong to me.

The Prodigal Soul

~Chapter 6

~~First Night

Kirk lay on the cool stone floor in Spock’s sleeping chambers and listened to Uhura’s soft, shuddering breaths as Spock’s mouth worked between her legs. He realized with a tiny pang of jealousy that for the second time in as many weeks, they started without him.

He was in the transporter room the day Uhura first came on the Enterprise and felt Spock stiffen beside him as she materialized. He glanced curiously at Spock and saw that his gaze was fixed on Uhura. Kirk could almost see the electric arc of lust and wonder and recognition flash between them. The air left his lungs in a soft rush and his hand had fluttered to his chest, his fingertips coming to rest gently over his heart in a gesture that was almost feminine. Uhura recovered her composure first, her dark eyes flicking toward him as she asked, “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

And even then, in that tiny moment, he knew that her directing her question at him was not for the sake of military protocol, but her generosity in including him in the relationship that formed instantly between her and Spock, as if the two had been only been waiting for the other to appear. Now, despite their protestations to the contrary, there would one day be that conversation that would gently separate him from them, that would regulate him to that status of Favorite Uncle to their children and—

“Stop sulking.”

Kirk looked up with a start. Nyota looked down at him from the side of the sleeping platform.

“What? I’m--,” started Kirk.

“We waited one point four three hours for you, Jim,” said Spock, peering over Nyota’s shoulder.

“Well, one of us waited, anyway,” Nyota grinned.

“Nyota, I implored you to cease your activities but—.”

“Since when has that ever been a problem, Spock?” asked Nyota.

“You are correct. I am Vulcan,” Spock said smoothly.

“Lucky for me,” she said nipping his shoulder with her teeth.

Kirk sighed. Uhura looked down at him.

Us. Lucky for us,” she said. “What took you so long this time, Jim?”

Kirk dropped his head back unto the stones and spread his arms and legs so that as much of his skin as possible came into contact with the cool floor.

“It’s hard to skulk around in a castle full of Vulcans,” he said. “Between Stonn and General Golan, it took me and hour to nonchalantly walk forty feet to Spock’s rooms,” he said.

“Why would you have to “skulk” to my chambers, Jim?” asked Spock. “It would not be unusual for you to be here at any hour.”

“Guilt makes you skulk,” said Nyota.

“And sulk, apparently,” said Spock.

“Get serious,” snapped Kirk. “I don’t know how you got here so quickly, Nyota.”

“Golan escorted me,” Nyota shrugged.

“What?” Kirk sat up in alarm.

“Is there a problem, Jim?”

“Yeah, Spock. There’s a problem,” said Kirk. “This is a diplomatic mission. The appearance of professionalism must be maintained.”

“And yet, there you lie, naked, on my floor,” said Spock.

“He did say the “appearance” of professionalism,” said Nyota.

“Hence, the skulking.”

“Right.” Nyota rolled unto Spock’s back and nuzzled his neck. “Everybody knows, Jim,” she said. “Sarek, Amanda, Golan.”

“McCoy, Stonn, Admiral Nogura,” said Spock.

“Emony Dax and Ambassador Shras know. But I doubt the Tellarites have figured it out.”

“Nor has Komack,” added Spock.

“Don’t forget Motley. He knows.”

“As does I’Tet.”

Kirk stared at them with wide eyes. “This is not funny. Why is this funny?”

They watched him with straight faces for a long moment. Nyota pointed to a stack of padds on a side table.

“Golan thinks I’m here to discuss L’langon clan dialect and High Vulcan syntax,” she said.

“God damn it. Why do you guys do that to me?” cried Kirk.

“Because it’s so easy.”

“It’s mean.”

“Really, Jim. For such an intelligent human, your gullibility never ceases to amaze me.”

Uhura patted the cushion beside Spock. “Get up here, silly,” she said.

“It’s too hot,” said Kirk. He brought his knees up and propped his forearms across them.

“I can assist you in regulating your body temperature,” said Spock, reaching for Kirk’s contact points.

Kirk tilted his head out of reach. “No,” he said.

Spock and Uhura glanced at each other.

“You and Nyota have engaged in sexual activity without me on occasion,” said Spock.

“Many, many occasions,” said Nyota.

Spock frowned.

“I mean, sometimes,” Uhura winced.

“You said many occasions.”

“Come on, Spock. You know what I mean.”

“Actually, you said many, many.”


Jim started to chuckle then he threw his head back and laughed.

“Shh!” giggled Nyota.

Jim pushed himself off the floor and plopped down on the pallet. Spock lay on his stomach with Nyota sprawled on his back. Jim gazed at them. Nyota placed a hand on his cheek.

“You are my love,” she said.

Spock brushed his fingers lightly across Jim’s forehead. Kirk felt his body cool slightly. “Thee are part of our whole, sa’kai. One day thee will come to believe this.”

They were quiet, watching the flickering light of the candle on the walls. A hot breeze blew through the narrow windows, bringing to them the faint scent of sage and roses from Amanda’s garden. T’Khut burned low on the horizon and a raptor shrieked above the desert.

“I love it here,” said Jim.

“It is agreeable to be home,” said Spock, kissing Nyota’s fingers.

“Will you want to live here after Starfleet?” Jim asked.

Spock traced the lines of Nyota’s palm with a finger. He gazed at Kirk. “It is an option among many that the three of us must consider,” he said.

“We won’t leave you, Jim,” whispered Nyota.

“I know,” said Kirk.

“We cannot,” said Spock.

Jim nodded. Spock frowned but decided that now was not the time to pursue the matter. It was good to breathe Vulcan air again and Nyota’s breasts were soft against his back.

“So, are we going to engage in sexual activities or what?” asked Nyota.

“I believe you may have telepathic abilities, Nyota,” said Spock.

He flipped their positions, stretched out on top of her and nuzzled her breasts. She gripped his hair in her fingers and moaned softly. She opened her eyes and saw Jim watching. She lifted her head from the pillow.

“Aren’t you going to—.”

“I’m not really up for it right, now,” he said. He motioned vaguely at his flaccid penis.

Spock reached for his contact points. “I can assist you--.”

“Cut it out,” Jim said, grinning. “Enough with the fingers.” He pushed Spock’s hand away.

“You seriously don’t want to now?” asked Nyota.

“Must’ve been all the skulking,” said Jim.

“It is my understanding that your perception of the illicitness of our meeting should add to your arousal ,” said Spock.

“Maybe it’s the heat,” said Kirk.



Kirk’s grin grew larger. “Gotcha,” he said.

“You can be a real jerk sometimes.”


Jim pushed Spock off Nyota and pulled her on top of him. He kissed her deeply. “Vulcans aren’t the only ones who can control their erections,” he whispered.

“Oh,” she sighed. “Indeed.”

But as Jim neared his climax, he closed his eyes against the sight of Spock kissing her mouth, holding her face between the fingertips of both hands, and hearing


Spock say for the first time in all the years that they were together, the words that made Jim cry out when he

came, eyes squeezed shut, his body clenched and his face averted.

(“nee’ota tal-kam”) “I love you, Nyota.”

Later, Jim made them wait while he lay on top of her. He was still hard inside her when she pushed him gently away and he gasped and shivered as his cock and his ejaculate left her body. He rolled to his side and kept his back to them as they moved together. He stared at the far wall.


Suvan stepped back from the peephole and took long, careful breaths through his nose. He was certain that the human male—Kirk—could not see him, but for a moment it seemed as if their eyes had met. Suvan could feel his grief and his lust and he ached for the man. He knew this pain. It was part and parcel of his cursed blood. He put his eye to the hole again. Spock and Nee’ota held each other, their bodies trembling with orgasm. Kirk still lay on his side with his hands clenched between his thighs.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” whispered Suvan. “Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love. Do not squander what is freely given, Kirk. You will end like me. Alone. Bloodless. In the dark.”

Suvan turned from the wall and walked through the passageways with his head down.

End Chapter 6



Sunday, May 10, 2009

The Movie

What Nimoy had to say about the Uhura/Spock romance:

"Beautiful, beautiful. Wonderful," said Leonard Nimoy, who reprises his role as the older Spock in the movie. "Both of them played it so well. They were both so available to each other. Very touching, really."

I wonder what Nichelle thinks.

The Movie

I sat there in the dark...with my phaser in my purse...when Spock and Uhura kissed in the turbolift, I felt my heart swell and grow warm in my chest.

The Movie

I'm going to go see it again. And again. I need to decide if Zachary Quinto is Spock or is he Leonard Nimoy.

Friday, May 01, 2009


Oooh. I get it now. It's a wormhole. A naturally occurring tranversible wormhole. That's why no pesky temporal causality paradox. Can't change the past. Right. But you can travel back in time to create a new future. But Daniel needs to brush up on his antecedal causal relation and probability theory. Blowing up the hatch in 1977 doesn't mean that Oceanic 815 will land safely in Hawaii.

Which is to say, there's no way to know what traveling to the past will do to the future, so don't bother. Jeez. What a dumbass.

I need sleep.