Return to Valjiir Stories
On the other side of the room, Ruth turned to Daffy. “What was that all about?”
“Del’s in a mean mood,” Gollub explained tersely as she watched her boyfriend make an increasingly weaving path back to Madvig.
“Then why didn’t you throw the fruit at him?”
“Because it was fruit, not a knife.”
Ruth nodded. “Fair enough.”
“And here he comes,” Daffy said unenthusiastically as the Cajun approached them, smiling.
“An' that, darlin’,” Del announced as stretched out in the space between the two of them, “is how you slip somet'ing in someone’s drink.”
“Yes,” Gollub agreed, taking a long drag on the dhibah stick she was smoking. “That’s how it’s done.”
Del rolled onto one side so that his back was to Ruth. "I tol’ you I could do it."
"And you did,” Daffy conceded easily. “You win. You are the Master of fucking Intrigue, Del. Congratu-fucking-lations."
“If you not want me to,” he pointed out, “then you shouldn’t’a bet me I couldn’t.”
“No,” Gollub said as she watched her boyfriend tumble headfirst into Madvig’s lap. “I really shouldn’t have.”
"So?" he asked expectantly.
"So what?"
Del slid a hand around her waist. "What you plannin’ to do to pay up, girlie?" His fingers subtly stroked the bare flesh between her multicolored pink cami and bright green mini-skirt.
Daffy took another drag before replying. "Are you kidding or are you fucking with me?"
"What if I not kiddin’?"
"Then you're definitely fucking with me."
"That take care of the metaphorical,” he drawled. “Care to move on to th' literal level, cher?"
"What the hell are you doing, Del?" Ruth demanded.
"What the hell you care?" he shot back.
“Leave her alone!”
“Leave me alone.”
“Love to,” she spat back. “Don’t you think you’ve caused enough damage for one day?”
“Why you not try mindin’ your own damn business…”
Suddenly Sulu was between them, pushing them apart. “You two shouldn’t fight.”
“What do you care?” Del asked, although he could hear the Mine! Mine! Mine! chant of the gold in Sulu’s veins. It gave him a moment’s grim pleasure to realize that it was aimed as much at him as it was at Ruth.
“I need to talk to her, okay?” The helmsman kept a tight grip on Ruth’s arm. “Alone, okay?”
“Fine.” Del grumbled as he retreated. “I t’ink that boy on drugs.”
“You’d know,” Daffy tossed after him.
“C’mon,” Sulu tugged at Ruth’s arm. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” she asked as he dragged her to an unoccupied corner of the cabin.
“You’re going to be… uhm, in contact with our friends soon, aren’t you?” Sulu asked, tapping her forehead in case Ruth hadn’t figured out that he was referring to the telepathic link.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t tell her I’m cruising, okay?”
Ruth frowned. “I wasn’t even thinking of doing that… until now.”
“It would just upset her,” Sulu said a little desperately.
Ruth sighed. “This seems to be a day for getting upset.”
Across the cabin, Del returned to find his standby harem reduced by one. Diona, seeing that Sulu was occupied, had snuck back to Sakura’s semi-conscious side. The teal mini-skirt the yeoman wore had ridden up over one hip, exposing the nothing she wore underneath. Del caught the Edenite’s lascivious delight, then glanced at Ruth’s more than revealing attire. White scraps of cloth just barely covered her breasts and torso, laced up at her sides and fastened in front in three widely-gaping places with clasps that looked like golden butterflies. Low-riding, very short white flowered shorts revealed every inch of her long, tan legs. Del closed his eyes, biting his lip. “Hey, Lacey,” he said, picking up the boshzier. “You remember that two-part harmony song you used to like to sing?”
“Yeah.” The ex-groupie smiled warmly. “I didn’t think you did, though.”
“Oh, I surely do, cher.” Del smiled as the green hornets whispered in his ear that there was more than one way to skin a cat.
“I was wondering…” Sulu began uncertainly. His hesitancy was not mirrored in the force he was still using to hold Ruth’s arm, though. “I mean, I know that Antaris have ways of telepathically…”
“Of telepathically doing what?” Ruth prompted.
“I’ve got to be with her,” the helmsman pleaded.
“Well, I can relay any message…”
“No,” he interrupted. “You don’t understand. I’ve got to be with her. It’s the amber. I’ve got to be with someone. I’m going to be with someone. I don’t think I can stop it… It’s gotta be her. It just has to be. I can’t… Not again. Do you understand?”
Ruth wished she didn’t. From across the room she could hear Del singing with Lace.
Although - although - we’re apart
I know - I know - you belong
To somebody new
But tonight you belong to me.
You’re part of my heart
And tonight you belong to me
She frowned and reflected that today’s selection of songs all seemed to be derived from the “Songs to Piss Off Ruth Valley” Collection.
“I know that Vulcans, Indiians, and Antaris all have forms of lovemaking that are primarily telepathic,” Sulu was saying, “or at least empathic…”
“Yeah they do, but…”
“But what?”
Despite the crisis in front of her, Ruth couldn’t help being pulled in the direction of the song. She could feel the seductive waves Del was throwing out and sensed Lace being eagerly drawn in.
“Think about what you’re asking, Roy,” she said, turning her attention to crisis number one. “Yeah, it would be possible, but you and Jilla can’t do it by yourselves. I would have to be part of your half of it. Spock would have to be part of her half of it. It would be really awkward -- especially for the two of them.”
Way down upon the stream
How happy it will seem
Once more just to dream
In the moonlight.
Ruth’s eyes narrowed. She couldn’t believe Del was using such a blatant ploy to make her jealous. She also couldn’t believe how well it was working.
“Trust me, Ruth,” Sulu was saying. “Awkward is nothing next to what’s going to happen if I fuck up again. I don’t think I could take it. I know she couldn’t….”
Oh, honey, I know - I know - with the dawn
That you will be gone
But tonight you belong to me
Ruth frowned. Her choices were clear. If she didn’t sleep with Del, he was going to sleep with Lace. If she didn’t help Sulu have four-way telepathic sex, he was going to sleep with Jeremy, Sakura, or one of the more than willing Sevrnites – or all of them. Which very well might end up killing Jilla.
She blew out a long breath. “Fine. We’ll need some privacy for this.”
They sequestered themselves in one of the still-connected-to-privacy rooms off the main cabin. Ruth was a little anxious about the fact that it really afforded very little in the way of security. There were doors, yes, but there were no locks. She could only hope that the Sevrinites were polite enough to knock at a closed door – not that she’d seen anyone actually do it. Not, of course, that there was really much of a choice about what she was about to attempt.
Sulu’s eyes were glowing like a cat’s as he pulled her over to the small bunk. He’d obviously done more than one small partial hit of amber. Which was going to make it more than a little tricky. Already her empathy was responding to the pleading in his veins.
“What do I do?” he asked eagerly. All his reticence about her keheil abilities had disappeared in the chemical’s insistence.
“Lay down and let me concentrate,” she replied.
“Do I need to lose the clothing?
Ruth found herself blushing, and frowned in annoyance. “Unless you think you won’t leave an embarrassing stain,” she muttered.
It was all she could do not to stare at his neutronium-hard organ as he stripped off the shorts and wildly-colored tank. “Three feet?! Of steel?!” echoed in her memory and she closed her eyes, biting her lip.
Spock? Husband?
In the con on the Enterprise, Spock blinked at the touch of mental contact.
Yes, Ruth? He answered immediately.
What time is it?
I beg your…
There. What time is it?
We have just started Second Watch.
Is Jilla still in Engineering?
Undoubtedly.
But she’s officially off duty?
She is so scheduled. Is there a problem with Mr. Sulu?
You could say that. Where are you?
On the Bridge.
Are you on duty?
Yes.
Shit!
If there is some emergency, I can call Miss Uhura to take the Watch.
Please do so. And thank her for me. Tell her I’ll get her some really outlandish clothing for her collection.
Collection?
Never mind. Just hurry, okay?
Spock turned and instructed Lieutenant Holden to call Uhura to the Bridge, then requested that Mrs. Majiir report to his cabin. When Uhura arrived, he relayed Ruth’s message, which seemed to please the Communications Officer no end. Then he informed Captain Kirk that there was a pending problem with the undercover mission.
“Is there anything I need to be doing?” the captain asked.
“As I do not yet know the nature of the difficulty, I cannot say with any certainty,” Spock replied. “I will keep you informed, sir.”
“All right, Spock,” Jim returned, then grinned over the viewscreen. “Say hello to Ruth for me.”
“I will convey your greetings, Captain. Spock out.”
Jilla was waiting for him when he arrived outside his quarters. He noted that she wore a silver chain around her neck, on which was Sulu’s wedding ring.
“You sent for me, Commander?” she asked.
Spock opened the door to his cabin, gesturing for the Indiian to precede him. “I received a telepathic message from Ruth,” he told her. “It appears there is some difficulty with...”
“Sumin tu,” the engineer murmured, then turned, looking up at him with dread expectancy. “Sulu,” was all she said.
“Allow me to communicate with Ruth again for the details,” Spock said comfortingly. Jilla nodded, taking a seat at the desk. Spock, too, sat.
Ruth. I am with Jilla.
Are you two somewhere private?
Spock’s eyebrow lifted. We are in my quarters.
He could feel the discomfort in his wife’s mind. Hers would be better.
Dei’larr’ei, what is this…
The answer came in a flood of half-articulated words and images; Sulu’s clear, drug-induced urgency, Ruth’s fear for him and for Jilla, her embarrassment and reluctance to subject her husband to the sordidness of being a go-between for…
Telepathic four-way sex, my wife?
With your link to Jilla and my proximity to Sulu I can set up a channel that will carry the emotions and mental stimulation…
I am aware of your ability in that regard, Spock reminded her. But will she not consider it infidelity?
Not if it’s only emotion, Ruth replied, her mental tone more than a little chagrinned. As long as I don’t touch Roy, and you don’t touch her any more than you need to to activate the link…
Then you are not actually requesting that we be involved in the – activity.
Fuck no!
An appropriate epithet under the circumstances.
Ha ha, very funny. There was a pause. Tell her Sulu’s really desperate. Don’t mention the amber, okay?
Very well. A moment.
Spock’s gaze refocused on Jilla’s anxious face. “It is nothing dangerous,” he began reassuringly. Wanna bet? sounded in his head. “There is no threat to Sulu’s life or to his physical well-being." Ha! “But he is – that is, he requires – he is in need of certain…”
Jilla glowed faintly. “I understand, Spock,” she said. “But I fail to see how…” Her eyes suddenly became both fearful and anguished. “Is Ruth offering…?”
“No, of course not,” Spock broke in. “She is capable of creating a telepathic link in which, through us, you and he can – commune.”
Jilla blinked, her glow fading. “How… through you and her…?
“Let us take this discussion to your cabin, rilain.”
“Come on, come on…” Sulu moaned through gritted teeth.
“This is gonna take some time, Roy,” Ruth said through her own clenched jaw. His hunger was eating at her, and even though a door and half a cabin separated them, she could still feel Del’s evil call. She took a second to snarl ‘Shield!’ at the Cajun and was momentarily surrounded by a loud, insistent buzzing. She shuddered and brushed it aside, then refocused on Spock.
Beloved?
What would you have me do? came the immediate soothing response.
Tell her to lay down. You sit in a chair beside her bed and open the link. Start a series of mathematical equations in your head, or a logic puzzle or something – anything that’s going to occupy the front of your brain so I can use your subconscious as a pathway to her.
And then?
Try to ignore what’s inevitably going to leak through to you. She waited as a decidedly uncomfortable silence ensued.
My wife, will not what is passing through my subconscious still have an effect on my physicality?
Very likely. Don’t worry, love, I’ll take care of it when they’re done. I’m gonna be as horny as Bones' rabbits.
Does Mr. Sulu know how good a friend you truly are?
Ruth sent a fond smile to her husband. Yeah, Spock, I think he does. She took a deep breath, turning again to Sulu.
“Okay, Spock is gonna open the link to Jilla,” she told him. “All you have to do is consciously let me into your head.”
That brought him up, as she knew it would. He rose onto his elbows, eyeing her warily. “Can’t you just – I don’t know – guide me or something?”
“You’re a telepath now?”
He flushed. “No.”
“I told you it was going to be awkward,” she reminded. “I won’t go poking around or anything. I’ll just hold your mind open so your thoughts can flow through me to Spock and through Spock to Jilla.”
The flare of jealousy that screamed into her was momentarily overwhelming, though all Sulu said was, “He won’t be touching her, will he?”
“He’ll likely have his hand against her temple, but that’ll be all,” she tried to soothe.
“And she’ll – feel – me, my thoughts…”
“Considering the nature of their link, and her own sensitivity, she’ll probably feel your touch.”
“And will I feel hers?”
Ruth grimaced. “Sorry, Roy, you’re not gifted. You’ll have to do the touching yourself.”
“Fuck, not a problem,” he muttered.
Not for you, Ruth thought. The memories of their relationship were already crowding her head.
Spock?
Yes, beloved.
Are you prepared?
I am, as is Jilla.
Forgive the images that are going to come from my subconscious.
I am well aware you were not virginal when we married. His dry tone was reassuring in its warm, teasing familiarity.
Okay, then, let’s get this show on the road.
She took another deep breath, then tentatively contacted Sulu’s mind.
Ruth tried not to look at the way Sulu’s hands were expertly arousing his body. She did her best not to see the barrage of obscenity that poured into her mind. She tried not to think about innocent little Jilla as the recipient of all that carnality. She tried to ignore the bits and pieces of darker what-she-knew-from-experience-was-not-fantasy that swirled around Sulu’s desperate urgency. And she most definitely refused to identify the other participants in those bits and pieces.
Holding onto Spock’s mind was a lifeline to sanity. His cool, orderly problem-solving was both soothing and arousing in a peaceful, calming way. She could let Sulu’s tumultuous emotions and reactions flow over her like water, only occasionally disturbed by stronger ripples and currents. She was even beginning to enjoy the sparkles of Jilla’s response, adding it to her own, though, of course, keeping it in abeyance until she could be alone with her husband.
Until a dark, suffering voice that was colored with an afterimage of an evil smile begged, Stop, stop, cher, I on fire!
She wrenched a part of her mind away from the passion within it. Del, I can’t stop, not now!
Why you do this to me?!
I’m not, it’s Roy… and she sent him the images of what Sulu would have done without Jilla.
Shit, I take him, then! It never mean more to us than release. Babe, I can’t stand this!
Jilla couldn’t stand that! Ruth screamed back at him. The couplings she had never wanted to know about slammed into her brain – and the jealousy that had been on the edge of her awareness for hours flared into prominences of despair and hunger. She had been about to suggest with some telepathic insistence that he grab the nearest Eden-head, but Del was filling her mind with the memories of their couplings, and she couldn’t bear it.
My wife, focus! came Spock’s stern demand.
“Ruth!” Sulu cried out in agony.
With all the power she possessed, Ruth slammed a mental door in Del’s mental face, pulled her frayed concentration back into place and simultaneously heard/felt/saw Jilla’s shrieking climax, Spock’s sudden, urgent physical reaction, and Sulu’s bellowing orgasm.
She slumped, coming down to rest on the edge of the bunk, and she was abruptly pulled into a fierce, joyous embrace. Sulu’s heart was hammering against his sweat-covered, naked chest, his breathing as ragged as her own.
“Gods, I love you!” he whispered hoarsely.
“Was that for me or Jilla?” she asked wearily.
He grinned. “Both.”
Jilla had been writhing on the bed, trying, Spock knew, to control the gasps and sighs and cries of delight that found their way from her throat. The sight was more than arousing, and he decided to add a critical, analytical dissection of his own reactions to the logical algorithms he was computing.
It is only logical that I recall, at this time, under these circumstances, the hedonism of which I know her to be capable. It is to be expected that her arousal has a reinforcing effect on the desire I feel for my wife. It is, in fact, understandable that some small part of that arousal is not for my wife. And, as more than a small part of my wife’s arousal is not for me…
Don’t think like that, beloved.
Forgive me. It is natural that these circumstances evoke Vulcan possessiveness. Even as he reassured Ruth, he added it to the critique of the situation, and felt her shiver.
I love it when you talk like that.
He was about to continue the calm, cool seduction when his thoughts were shattered by a dark, anguished hunger that did not come from Sulu.
Stop, stop, cher, I on fire!
Del, I can’t stop, not now!
Why you do this to me?!
I’m not, it’s Roy…
Shit, I take him, then! It never mean more to us than release. Babe, I can’t stand this!
Jilla couldn’t stand that!
Jilla suddenly gasped, her small hand coming up to grasp the ring at her throat. “Spock, no!” she cried, both in his mind and aloud.
He felt the channel to Sulu weakening, heard the agonized desperation as the young man realized he would not reach fulfillment with his Indiian wife.
He knew raging jealousy and fevered, domineering passion.
My wife, focus! he commanded.
The strength of Ruth’s returning concentration was as a blinding light to his mind’s eye. He roared silently with the power of the completion that swept through him, hearing Jilla’s cry of orgasm, feeling Sulu’s thundering response. To his surprise, it did not take him; rather, it left him with a sudden, uncontrollable erection.
Dei’larr’ei!
Just a minute, beloved, came Ruth’s breathless reply. Let me break the link with Roy. And by the way, tell Jilla he says he loves her.
Spock turned to see the Indiian rising from the bed, glowing fiercely. “Forgive me,” she began as she straightened her uniform.
“Unnecessary,” Spock demurred immediately. The last thing he wanted now was a discussion of the situation. Jilla refused to look at him.
“Perhaps, Spock, you should retire to the privacy of your cabin…?” she suggested, not a little demure herself.
“An excellent suggestion,” he returned, then paused. “Mr. Sulu says he loves you, rilain.”
“And I him,” she said with such a beautiful smile, Spock had to force his sudden longing away. “You are more than a good friend to us, Spock,” she added, and raised her hands for an embrace.
He quickly touched his palms to hers, then turned, trying not to rush from the cabin.
Daffy carried a tray of various glasses and plates into the small side room that served as the Shambala's galley unit.
"Hey, Daf," she was greeted by the ship's new dishwasher.
"They put you to work, Jer?"
Paget grinned as he dunked a plate into a sink full of water. "We can cure most diseases, disassemble a person and reassemble them accurately in a place hundreds of miles away, and warp the fabric of space itself, send people through space... Why can't anyone invent a dishwasher that doesn't require you to essentially wash the dishes before you put them inside?"
"Dunno," she replied, emptying her tray into a neat stack on the countertop beside him. "I'm a chemist, not a busboy."
"And why is my favorite Haven-class chemist playin’ busboy?"
Gollub shrugged. "I thought we should have all the breakables out of the way when the orgy starts. They'll thank me later."
"We are developin’ a bit of an orgy vibe out there, aren't we?"
"The Loonie mating season came early this year," Daffy said, leaning against the counter. "Who knew?"
"Lucky us." Paget noticed that Gollub didn't seem any more anxious to return to the fray than he was. He shook his head. "Didn't think I'd ever live to see the day when an orgy was about to break out and the two of us were walkin’ away. "
"A couple of old maids we are."
Paget smiled, but gave her a penetrating glance as he rinsed the cup she handed him. "Why are you here, Daffodil?"
"Why are you?" she tossed back.
"Oh, I need to keep focused. For the mission."
She titled her head and gave him a reproving smile. "So, now it's my turn to tell a lie?"
"I'm lyin’?"
"Any explanation of your sudden lack of enthusiasm for party sex that contains no mention of a certain Royal personage."
"Let's not go there," he interrupted firmly. "Okay?"
Gollub put her hands up in mock surrender. "Fine."
Although he missed his friends, Jeremy Paget could suddenly see some advantages to not serving with them all the time. Ex-Clavists knew the locations of too many old scars.
There was the sound of enthusiastic giggling from the main cabin. "We've definitely got some Loonies in heat," Paget observed, "but somehow I'm gettin’ the feelin' that a lot of this is comin' from NC."
Gollub snorted. "And you know this how? Maybe from the 30 stanzas of "Please fuck me, Ruth"? The equal-opportunity groping? The tonsil hockey with Lace?”
Jeremy raised his eyebrows. "We're at the face suckin’ stage now?"
"Either that or he's just using his tongue to check her dental work."
"Hmm." Paget frowned as he transferred a rinsed plate to the rack. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you turn NC down before."
"Del," she pronounced, "is an ass."
"True," Paget conceded. "But he's also a scrumptious piece of ass."
"But an ass nonetheless," Gollub maintained. "And nothing requires me to reward that behavior."
Paget smiled and shook his head. "Okay, that was yours."
"My what?"
"Your one free lie about why you're in here instead of out there."
Gollub sighed, nonverbally acknowledging his hit. "A nudnik you're becoming, Jer."
Paget let a few moments of silence pass as he returned a row of clean glasses to their storage place. "It's been a long time since I've seen you this hung up on a guy."
Daffy held up a hand. "There we don't have to go either."
"Fine." Paget loaded some spoon-like utensils into a sterilizing unit. "He seems nice."
"Who?"
"Chekov." Jeremy adjusted the unit's settings. "He seems nice... smart... cute."
Daffy had to smile. "Sense of humor. High potential for gainful employment," she said, listing the next items on their mutually developed checklist for desirable men.
"Very fuckable," they concluded together.
Gollub sighed and frowned. "Unfortunately, he's an ass too."
Paget picked up a length of cloth from the tray Gollub had brought in. "Wonder what this is - skirt? Blouse? Sash? Kilt? Tabard?"
"Stupid Roger's loincloth?" Daffy suggested.
"Yeesh!" both exclaimed as Paget gingerly tossed it into a recycle unit.
"So, we have tongue wrestlin' with Lace, huh?" he asked as he washed his hands.
"Oh, yeah."
"Wonder if Stupid Roger's turned into the jealous type too?
"I'm not the one who should be worried with that," Daffy replied, ignoring the "too" Jer had directed at her.
He let the "too" continue to hover in he air.
Gollub sighed. "Just say it."
"What?"
"The thing that Mission Commander Jer is dying to say his old friend Lieutenant Fuckup."
Paget resisted the urge to say ‘That’s somebody else, and it’s Lieutenant Commander Fuckup.’ Instead, he put the dish in his hand down and turned to face her. "There's a 90% chance that Chekov's old girlfriend is one of the ones - if not the one - we'll be gunning for. I think he's going to try to use you as an excuse to flake out and not get close to her."
"No." Gollub shook her head. Jeremy was surprised to see what looked like tears form in her eyes. "You don't know him, Jer. He won't. He can't. And that's what's killing me. He can't and he won't."
They were interrupted by a clearly sexual cry of Ruth's name that echoed with muffled urgency throughout the draped and pillowed main cabin. Jeremy whirled at the sound, nearly dropping the coffee pot he was washing.
"Was that His Majesty?" Daffy asked.
"Shit!" Jeremy spat and took off past her at ramming speed.
"Definitely His Majesty," she commented to the now-empty galley.
I left him alone. I knew he was cruisin’, how could I leave him alone?
Don’t be stupider than you have to. Spike’s married to a Vulcan. And she’s straight…
Except for the impossible-not-to-breathe eternally present Rigellian. Remember her on Rigellian at the Clave? Made her hornier than a jackrabbit in the spring.
And she’s an empath, and Sulu's cruisin’… Not to mention what NC is doin’ to her…
“Shit!”
Jeremy burst unceremoniously into the small room, then stopped in his tracks. A completely naked and clearly spent Sulu was hugging a completely clothed though rather flustered Ruth.
“I’m happy you’re happy, Roy,” the Antari was saying. “Now get out.”
“I need to get cleaned…” Sulu began.
“Out! Now!”
Incomprehensibly, Sulu grinned, then climbed off the small bunk, picking his clothes up off the deck.
“And what the hell just went on here?” Paget demanded.
“You too, Cobra,” Ruth ordered. “OUT!”
“Come on, Jer,” Sulu said, taking the taller man’s arm as he walked unsteadily past him. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
“So help me God, Lord, Jesus, if you pulled another Fidelity Fuck-up… and with Spike of all people…” Paget hissed as the door to the side room closed behind them.
Sulu stopped. “No,” he said, then, “well, yeah, I guess. Kinda. The with Spike part, not the fuck-up part…”
“You got five seconds to start makin’ sense, babe.”
Sulu leaned in close – close enough for Jeremy to be unable to ignore the scent of sex all over him – and whispered, “Ruth hooked me up telepathically with Jilla.”
Several incomprehensible things went through Paget’s brain all at once, but all he said was, “She can do that?”
“Because of Jilla’s link with Spock, yeah.”
After a moment’s more incredulous silence, Jeremy stroked his fingers along his jaw. “Well, I will be dipped. Congratulations, then.”
Sulu smiled, then Jeremy found himself on the receiving end of an impulsive, overwhelming hug. “You take such good care of me,” Sulu murmured. “Do you know how much I appreciate it – and you?”
“Just doin’ my job, babe,” Paget replied, having to work past the sudden lump in his throat. As the helmsman’s hands began to roam sensually over his lower back, Jeremy pulled away. “And you’re still cruisin’.”
“Yeah. But I’m feeling much better.” Sulu’s eyes twinkled at him and Jeremy had to laugh. “I need a shower anyway,” Sulu continued, then smiled devilishly. “You wanna join me?”
“After you just narrowly missed a Fidelity Fuck-Up? I don’t think so.”
Sulu shrugged, walking away toward the ship’s bathing facilities. “I think you don’t trust me, Jer,” he called lightly over his shoulder.
“No,” Jeremy murmured to no one. “I don’t trust me.”