Under My Thumb

by Cheryl Petterson

(Standard Year 2248)

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PART TWO

Sulu walked over to the table at which Ruth was sitting, absently drinking her morning coffee. He set his own cup down, then tapped the Antari on the shoulder, inclining his head towards the next table. She glanced up, then over at Daffy Gollub, who was wolfing down a plate of eggs like she'd never eaten before in her life.

"What's with the starvation act?" he asked.

Ruth shrugged. "She wasn't home last night. Maybe she and Pavel forgot to eat."

Sulu sat down. "Were they fighting?" he grinned.

Again the Antari shrugged. "When aren't they?" Then she glanced around her in apparent surprise. "Where's Jilla?"

"She had early duty," the helmsman replied. He raised his voice. "Hey, Daf, leave some for the rest of us."

The chemist looked up, grinning, eggs between her teeth. She hurriedly swallowed, calling back, "Can't talk. Eating."

Sulu chuckled and returned his attention to Ruth, only to alter it again as Chekov came striding into the mess. From his body language, he was obviously annoyed.

"Morning, Pav..." Sulu began, but it faded as the navigator went straight to Daffy, picking up her plate and throwing it across the room.

"What the...?!" Sulu said, rising from his seat. Ruth, too, was standing, her purple eyes widening.

"Stay out of this, Sulu," the Russian barked. At the other table, Daffy was hurriedly wiping her mouth.

"I had a few minutes before my shift," she was saying, "and I didn't want to wake you when you don't have to be on duty for another..."

"And you thought it would somehow be unpleasant for me to have breakfast with you?" Chekov snarled. "Is this what you call trying?"

Daffy stood. "Don't yell at me," she said, and Sulu thought he detected more pleading than the irritation he expected.

"She's entitled to eat where she wants, Pavel," Ruth put in, her arms folding.

"No one asked you for your opinion, Miss Valley," Chekov returned, glacially polite.

"It's alright, Ruth," Daffy said, then continued to Pavel. "I'm sorry, bubee. It was kind of thoughtless."

Chekov grumbled, but seemed mollified. "See that it does not happen again."

Ruth bristled. "Now look here, you little..."

The Russian turned to her, and Sulu had to swallow his shock. Gone was the sweet, mild, easy-going if somewhat stiff navigator. The eyes that blazed at Ruth were lasers of disdain, the usually soft voice dripping condescension. "And do you have nothing better to do than to interfere in matters which do not concern you and about which you know next to nothing?" he said. "Your fabled Antari charms appear to have failed you. Daphne belongs to me now." He smiled, a nasty, leering, almost evil expression. "Perhaps it would serve you to see if Mr. Spock is likewise immune."

Ruth flushed and Sulu heard Daffy's quiet gasp. Then Ruth, too, took a deep breath, preparing, Sulu was certain, to deliver a blistering response, beginning and ending with physical and telepathic threats, particularly regarding certain portions of the Russian's anatomy. But Pavel turned away, taking Daffy none too gently by the arm.

"Come, Dafshka," he said. "We will finish this conversation privately."

Sulu stared, dumbfounded, as Daffy meekly walked with Chekov from the room.

"That... that...!" Ruth stammered.

"Was he implying that ..." Sulu began.

"...motherfucking, arrogant little twerp of a...!"

"... has to know better than to think..."

"...womprat!!"

"...you and Daffy...?"

"Me and Daffy what?"

Sulu stopped, shaking his head. "Maybe I'd better have a talk with him."

"Well, I've certainly got a thing or two to ask her!" Ruth snapped.

Suppressing a sudden shudder, Sulu turned to her. "Spike, I think it'd be better if you wait till he's not around," he suggested.

"You think I'm afraid of that little Russian nebbish?"

No, he thought, but I am. And I think she is, too.

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Chekov marched Daffy into the turbolift and, once inside, pushed her against the wall, kissing her harshly. There was only a moment of resistance, then she melted against him. When he broke the kiss, she held to him, murmuring, "I'm sorry, so sorry, Pasha."

"I understand, my Dafshka," he returned in the same tone. "It was simply such a terrible thing to awaken without you beside me..." He took a breath and Daffy held hers. "I commend your attention to your duty schedule," he continued, "but you must never again leave our quarters without telling me you are doing so."

"Our...?" Daffy began, staring up at him. She thought she detected a blush.

"I meant - that is, I would wish -" His voice stopped. Daffy had to swallow the sudden rush that was part panic, part joy.

"Pav, that's moving awfully fast..." she said, only to be interrupted by Chekov's harsh

"Fast? You say this is moving too fast? How long have we been together, Daphne?"

She blinked. "Uh... eighteen months, on and..."

"And it is too soon to consider a more permanent relationship. Is that what you wish me to believe?"

"No, it's just that - we haven't... except for the whole bed thing..." She shivered involuntarily. "You only just said you love me."

"And have I not said it in ways other than words?" he demanded.

Daffy looked down at the deck plating. "Does ' I am very fond of you' count?"

There was only silence, and Daffy had to gather her courage to look up again. Pavel was staring at her, his brown eyes full of sorrow. "Truly, Dafshka, have I not?" he repeated softly.

She tried a tentative smile. "Maybe I haven't been good at listening?" she offered.

He sighed. "Perhaps it is I who have not been good at showing you," he said, then pulled her into a gentle embrace. "I can be - stubborn, at times, and somewhat - thick." It was Daffy's turn to sigh.

"So a little eingeshpahrt you are," she teased. "I still love..."

Her words were cut off as Pavel slapped her across the face.

"Even now you cannot resist insulting me," he snarled.

Sudden tears stung her eyes. "I'm not insulting you," she nearly sobbed. "It just means stubborn."

"Then speak in a language I understand," he snapped.

She rubbed at her cheek. "It's as natural for me to speak Yiddish as it is for you to speak Russian."

"I was born in Russia. You were born in North America."

"You never seemed to mind before," she muttered.

"We have had this conversation before," he reminded. "Things have changed. I mind."

"Pavel, I'm trying, but a mind-reader I'm not, and..."

She stopped speaking as the turbolift door opened. Captain Kirk stepped into the lift, nodding at them. "Good morning Mr. Chekov, Miss Gollub."

"Good morning, sir," Pavel replied respectfully. Daffy only nodded. "Sir, might I make a request?" the Russian continued.

"Certainly, Lieutenant," Kirk responded.

"I wish to change roommates. I wish to be assigned a cabin with Miss Gollub."

Daffy gasped, and the captain looked surprised. "Miss Gollub?" he asked, turning to her.

The chemist hesitated, then caught the anger in Chekov's eyes. "Request seconded, Captain," she said quickly.

Kirk smiled. "Well, then, request granted. I'll let Personnel know and you can move your things later today. I trust that will suit you both?"

"Yes, sir," Chekov returned with an open grin. "Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, Captain," Daffy echoed. Pavel put his arm around her waist, and Kirk obligingly faced the front of the lift.

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Pavel stood in the shower, breathing deeply, calming his racing heart and jumbled mind. Despite the assertion that this body was 'used to it,' the sexual intercourse Sulu had forced on him had hurt.

No, not 'forced,' he corrected bitterly, what you allowed him to do to you, in accordance with Starfleet suggestion and vain hope. There had been quite a bit of foreplay, a long time of the helmsman alternately teasing his body, then causing him physical pain which, nevertheless, mutated into a different although equally arousing pleasure. Pavel had given up trying to analyze it and had instead focusing on enduring it, but even that had not been enough - as Sulu had told him in crooning, mocking Russian. He had been required not only to allow, but to participate and, eventually, enjoy the casually brutal, fervently passionate activity. That he had himself achieved completion only added to his sense of degradation.

When he stepped out of the shower, he found that there were no towels and no robe or clothing of any kind in the small bathroom. Wryly conceding the psychological tactic, he gathered his dignity around him and walked to the door to the main cabin.

"I do hope it was your intention to have me drip water over all your things," he said - then realized the cabin was empty. He glanced around warily. Over Sulu's desk was an array of screens. They were all dark, but Pavel quickly recognized their intent. The Security Chief had said no one on the ship heard anything he didn't want them to. It only made sense, then, that he would likewise ensure that he heard - and saw - everything he wanted to.

Which means, the Russian thought, that there might be a record of what happened, and how to reverse it.

He swiftly sat down at the desk, carefully examining the control panel on it. His knowledge of the design of the Enterprise's circuitry, a must for all navigators, allowed him to discern the various functions before him. Each section of the ship had its own surveillance, but as none were labeled, he had to employ trial and error to find the logs of the transporters. Rather than keying in a video feed, he instead had the screen display a schematic, complete with settings and coordinates. He folded his arms in grim satisfaction, and set about memorizing the data he would need to get himself home.

He was on the last screen when he heard Sulu's voice from the corridor. Quickly he blanked the viewscreen, returning the controls to the positions they'd been in before he had touched them. He contemplated diving for the bed, then reconsidered and decided to allow Sulu to ' catch' him at the desk. He schooled his features into hurried desperation, and heard the hiss of the door.

"See," Sulu was saying, "Safe and sound, just as I promised."

It was all Pavel could do not to cry out the name of the person who entered the cabin with the helmsman.

Daphne.

She was far more sensual than Pavel could recall his Dafshka ever being. Her hair was done up in a braided sculpture, her makeup dark and dramatic. She wore the same large hoop earrings his Daphne was fond of, but there was a gold ring through her left nostril, with a delicate gold chain leading from it to a second piercing of her left earlobe. And there was a hardness in her eyes that he had never seen, not even when the chemist was at her most angry.

She crossed the room, a very false smile widening her mouth. "Chekov, darling, I was so worried," she said, but her tone utterly belied the sentiment.

Pavel swallowed, trying to appear as casual as she was. "No need, Daphne," he replied, then added, with a glance at Sulu, "I've been taken quite good care of."

"Find anything useful?" Sulu asked as he, too, crossed the room, to stand on the other side of the desk, effectively putting Pavel between himself and Daphne. The gleam in the dark, almond eyes made it obvious that he was covering for the Russian. What Pavel couldn't understand was why.

"Unfortunately no. I had just started looking when you came in," Pavel said.

"Ah, well, there's still time," the Security Chief returned. Pavel felt Daphne's hand caressing his shoulder. He returned his attention to her.

"I was worried," she repeated, and held open her arms.

Very mindful of his nudity, Pavel rose from the desk chair, taking the woman into his arms. He tilted his head to kiss her upturned face, then had to turn it the other way to avoid the feel of the chain against his face. He heard the Security Chief's chuckle and fought his flush.

When the kiss broke, Daphne reached up, rubbing her thumb across Pavel's lower lip. The action was disturbingly similar to the gesture Sulu had used and Pavel started at it, until he realized the chemist was just wiping off her lipstick. She smiled at him, then turned to Sulu.

"So just how are you going to keep him alive?" she asked.

"I'll give Kirk an invented story about how he was just running scared," Sulu said with a grin at Pavel. "I'll drop a few hints about the kind of research he was running, enough to make Kirk want him alive for questioning. Then, I'll handle the questioning." He shrugged. "It'll mean a session in the Booth, Chekov, probably more than one, but it's not like you haven't survived that before." He chuckled again.

Daphne pouted, her hand coming up to caress the Russian's face. "Poor baby," she murmured. "But with your strength, I'm sure you'll be able to endure it." Her touch trailed down his neck, to his shoulder and down to his arm.

"Yes," was all the navigator could think of to say.

"Now you'd better get your pretty little ass back to Chemistry," Sulu said to Daphne, "before Moreau misses you. Chekov and I will plan our strategy, then I'll report to the captain."

"Good luck, darling," Daphne breathed, giving Pavel's arm a little squeeze. Then she turned and undulated her way back out of the cabin.

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"You played that very well, Pasha," Sulu said once Gollub had gone. "Better than I expected." He moved close to Pavel, touching him in exactly the same way the chemist had. "I'm proud of you, pet."

Pavel ignored the caress. "What was the purpose of that?" he asked.

"Simple. If you're going to survive - a situation that I assume is still uppermost in your wishes - you have to convince everyone here that you're him." Sulu's fingers moved from Pavel's arm to his chest, lightly tweaking one of the ruddy nipples. "I can give you a crash course in his usual mannerisms and attitudes, but you're going to have to do most of the work yourself." The Asian smiled. "Like learning to control those flushes of yours. And somehow keeping your beautiful, soft, brown eyes from looking so much like a scared puppy."

Pavel folded his arms, cutting off the Security Chief's intimate touch. "I would prefer to simply be returned to..." he began.

"Well, that's always an option if you can't cut it," Sulu agreed easily. "But give it a try, first, won't you pet?" He stepped even closer, leaning forward to whisper, "For me?" and he again licked the Russian's ear.

It took all Pavel's control not to push the Security Chief away. "And what does this deception gain you?" he made himself ask tersely instead.

"Ah," Sulu returned, and his breath tickled against Pavel's neck, "More power, of course. More control. More leverage in the political structure of this ship. And, of course..." he nipped at Pavel's earlobe, "you, my so very tempting pet."

"You said this body was used to what you did," Pavel answered, still defiant. "How is your of taking of me so different?"

Sulu laughed, then stepped away, turning from the navigator. "He fought," he called over his shoulder as he crossed the room. "Get yourself a new uniform from the replicator," he said. "We've got work to do."

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Sulu pressed the buzzer outside Chekov's quarters fifteen minutes before the navigator was due on duty. He knew the conversation was going to be a difficult one, and wanted to give them both a relatively easy out. He didn't get the terse 'come' he expected, Instead Pavel opened the door manually.

"Hey, Pav," Sulu said as easily as he could. "Got a minute?"

"For what purpose?" Chekov asked, folding his arms.

Gonna be stubborn about it, are you? Sulu thought. "What happened in the mess hall this morning," he replied carefully.

Chekov made a sound that was half remorseful sigh, half disgusted grunt. "I am sorry," he said. "I lost my temper."

Yeah, no shit. "You gonna let me in?"

One of the navigator's eyebrows rose. "Is there more you wish to discuss?"

"Well, yeah, if that's alright with you."

Another half sigh, half grunt. "Very well." The Russian moved aside, and Sulu stepped into the cabin. He noted that Chekov turned so that he was between his guest and the door. It was uncharacteristic enough that Sulu grew more wary than he'd been to start with.

"I don't want to interfere with your and Daffy's relationship," the helmsman began cautiously.

"Then why are you?" Chekov interrupted.

"She's my friend, too," Sulu replied, "and I don't like to see my friends get hurt."

The Russian made a dismissive gesture. "I did not hurt her."

"Not physically, no," Sulu conceded. "But you were none too easy on the dishware."

"As I said, I lost my temper."

"Because she didn't wake you? She was only trying to be considerate..."

"And you can read minds and see through bulkheads now to know not only what was going on in her thoughts but what might have gone on in here previously?" Chekov nearly sneered.

A small shiver made its way down Sulu's spine, but he took a breath, putting it aside. "Pav, I know things can get - complicated - when a relationship is moving to another level..."

"And you know this how?"

Sulu blinked. "About relationships or moving to another level?"

"Yes." there was a sense of smug derision in the navigator's tone and the shiver increased.

"Well, the news of your request to share quarters with her is all over the ship," the helmsman began, "and that implies a level of commitment that was previously absent. And about relationships being complicated - " He tried a grin. "I'm in one, you know."

"You are in a relationship with a woman who will do anything and everything you ask of her," Chekov responded. "Daphne is not like that. There is a certain amount of - readjusting - that is essential in cases such as ours."

Sulu decided to go for broke. "Like her needing your permission to leave the cabin?" he asked bluntly.

"What I require of my woman is none of your concern," the Russian said darkly.

The shiver was now a steady stream of ice. Still, Sulu pressed on. "Look, I've known Daffy a lot longer than you have..."

"Yes. I am aware of that." The brown eyes gleamed dangerously at him.

Back off, Sulu's mind warned him. Back off now. "I only meant that she's not as - invincible - as she sometimes acts. Moving in is a big step, and she may need some..."

"What Daphne needs," the navigator interrupted, "is a firm hand and some self-discipline, a thing she herself would agree with were she here. I wonder, Sulu, why it is you chose to bring this to me at a time when you knew she would not be here."

The helmsman took a deep breath. "Because, like I said, I don't want to interfere, but I was concerned and I wanted to give you a little friendly advice. You don't want it, that's fine."

"I think I am a big enough boy to handle my own affairs," was the mocking reply.

Sulu made himself shrug, despite the voice in his head that was signaling red alert like mad. "Whatever you say, Pavel. Good luck." Except I think I'm the one who needs it. He took a step toward the door, but the Russian didn't move.

"Perhaps," Chekov began, and his voice was a near croon, "you are concerned due to some - lack - with your own woman?"

Sulu found he had to swallow before answering. "Didn't you just say I'm in a relationship with a woman who will do anything and everything I ask of her?"

"That is certainly the appearance," Chekov returned, taking a step closer to the helmsman. "But perhaps things are different behind closed doors, hmm?"

"No," Sulu responded firmly, though his heart was racing. "Things are not different behind closed doors."

The navigator smiled, but it was a sensual, unnerving expression. "Just so, Sulu. I do not wish things to be any different behind my closed door with Daphne. And so things between us may seem a little - unsettled for a while until we both, as I said, readjust."

The words may have been meant to be reassuring, but Sulu didn't feel at all reassured. Suddenly the only thing that mattered to the helmsman was getting the hell out of Chekov's cabin.

"Okay, Pav," he said as casually as he could. "Like I said, I was just concerned."

"And I thank you for it. Forgive my defensiveness, won't you, my friend?" Chekov replied, and placed a hand on the Asian's shoulder in what was very possibly a caress before stepping aside.

"Sure," Sulu managed, his throat very dry.

Once out in the corridor, Sulu closed his eyes, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling that Pavel Chekov had been trying to seduce him.

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"Daffy, I want to talk to you!"

Ruth bounded into the turbolift behind her friend as they were both leaving the Science Labs.

"What about?" Daffy responded warily.

"What gives with you and Chekov?" Ruth demanded.

"What?" Daffy repeated.

"Don't give me 'what,' Gollub. Since when do you let him treat you like dirt?"

"And when was this?"

Ruth placed her hands on her hips. "Are we gonna have to do this the hard way?"

"Why do we have to do it all?" Ruth took careful note of the chemist's downcast eyes.

"Oy, don't tell me it's David syndrome all over again."

"I don't know what you mean," Daffy said, but she still didn't look up.

"What's the little nebbish..." Ruth began.

"Don't call him that," Daffy interrupted.

The Antari tilted her head, trying to look her friend in the face. "Daffy, I saw him throw your breakfast across the mess. I saw him bullying you."

"He was just upset because..."

"Because you left his cabin without telling him? Come on, fruychick, I know you better than that."

"He asked me to move in with him," was the chemist's quiet response.

Ruth frowned. "Yeah, I heard. Is the schmuck getting all Mr. Possessive on you?"

"He said he loves me, Ruth."

"Oy god, Daf, that doesn't give him license to..."

"Things are different now. He wants things to be different and I - I have to - adjust."

"By becoming a different person?" Ruth questioned. "Daf, that's not love."

"You don't get to tell me what to do," Gollub returned, almost sullenly.

Ruth angrily grabbed Daffy's shoulders. "Listen, Gollub..." then she stopped, for Daffy winced.

Daffy Gollub winced.

Helplessly, Ruth took a step back. "Daf," she whispered, "what is he doing to you?"

"He said he loves me," the chemist repeated stubbornly. "We both have to compromise for a relationship to work. Isn't that what all the shrinks say? That's all we're doing - finding ways to compromise, to make it work. If things get a little - rough - well, that's just natural until we both find the new balance." She glared defiantly at the Antari. "And that's all it is. So be a mensch and don't fuck it up for me, okay?"

The turbolift doors opened and Daffy quickly stepped out, leaving Ruth staring after her.

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Daffy hesitated outside Chekov's door. These were her quarters now, too, but she didn't know how he'd react if she just walked in. Considering how he reacted when you just walked out, she thought, wouldn't that imply that your presence is always welcome?

And do you really want to chance what he might do if you're wrong?

But what if just walking in is wrong?

She shivered, hating the indecision, hating that a few slaps -

And a little thing like rape and forced fellatio...

For which he apologized.

... made her feel so uncertain. Then she realized that it was past time he was due on duty, and she sighed in relief and entered the cabin.

Except that, for some reason, he was still there. He turned abruptly from the desk, his face momentarily unguarded and furious. Then, seeing her, he smiled.

"Welcome home, Dafshka," he said and held out his arms. She went to him automatically, reveling in the feel of his arms around her, his mouth on hers. "I took the liberty of arranging some of your things," he murmured to her.

"Don't you have duty?" she replied, then added, "Not that I'm not glad to see you."

He put her at arms length, his eyes studying her. "The Captain was gracious enough to give me a truncated shift so that we could arrange the move," he said, "and I am glad my presence in my own cabin does not displease you."

His tone was warning enough for her to be very cautious in answering. "Your presence anywhere pleases me, Pasha, as long as I'm in the same place," she tried humbly.

He grinned. "That's my good girl."

She sighed in relief, then glanced around the cabin. "So where did you..." she began.

"You can discover all that later," he interrupted. "I do have to report for duty in an hour, and there are much better ways to spend that time."

She smiled at him and went again to his warm embrace.

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She was lying in the crook of his arm some forty-five minutes later, stroking his chest, kissing his shoulder. "Sulu came to talk to me," he said, seemingly out of nowhere. "He seemed concerned for my behavior towards you in the mess."

"Ruth talked to me about it, too," Daffy replied. "Such nud- ah - pests they can be."

He rose to a sitting position, apparently unmindful that she had used Anglo, as he had requested. "And what did you tell her, my Dafshka?" he asked.

His tone was mild, but Daffy could hear the tightness behind it. "To mind her own business," she replied, careful to make it light.

"Ah," he returned, and relaxed, pulling her into his arms again. "That is also what I told Sulu." She snuggled against him. ' It is important to us both to retain our privacy, is it not?"

"We haven't had much to retain privacy about, bu- - Pasha."

He chuckled. "I have no objections to affectionate pet names, Dafshka."

She smiled at him. "Bubee," she said impishly.

"But still, I would not want the details of our relationship to become ship's gossip," he continued.

Daffy considered. "A girl does occasionally need to confide in her friends," she said carefully.

"I am not a friend?" he asked

She kissed him. "Of course you are, but - well - I'm not exactly known for my reticence."

"I think that is another area of readjustment then, yes, Daphne?"

"I think people might think that's - odd," she returned, pursing her lips.

"What other people think is more important than what I require?" Chekov returned, his voice a dark rumble.

"No, Pavel, no," she assured quickly. "I'm just saying - people other than Ruth and Sulu could be pests about it."

"Then we will tell them, too, to mind their own business," he stated, but the darkness remained.

Daffy took a deep breath. "Yes, Pasha," she said.

He smiled, the tenderness returning. "There's my good girl." He kissed her, then rose from the bed. "I must prepare for duty, now, Dafshka."

"Should I finish putting my things away?" she asked.

"I would prefer we do that together," he replied. "And I will want dinner when I return."

I'm a chemist, not a housewife. The thought formed in Daffy's mind, but she was wise enough not to say it out loud.

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Sulu approached Kirk's office, nodding casually to the guard that stood before the door. "Security report," he said.

The guard nodded, then turned to relay the information to the captain. "Let him come," came Kirk's voice from the com, and the guard said, "Yes, sir," and opened the door.

Sulu smiled at him, noting his shudder, and the smile widened. When the door closed again behind him, he sauntered to the chair in front Kirk's desk, giving a desultory salute before sitting down. Kirk returned it, equally perfunctorily.

"Well?" the captain asked.

"Chekov's a scared rabbit," Sulu said. "There's nothing of any use or interest to be gotten from him. I'm not entirely sure why he ran, but I'll find out."

"Good," Kirk nodded. "But if he's so useless, why keep him around?"

"I didn't say he was useless, Captain. I just said he didn't have any agenda worth worrying about."

"He killed several of my people," Kirk stated. "He killed my Chief Engineer. That doesn't merit any lenience."

"I'm not recommending lenience," Sulu returned. "I think, under the right circumstances, he could prove - entertaining." And he smiled at the captain.

Kirk chuckled. "You're a sick man, Sulu."

The Security Chief bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Captain."

"Spock was in here, suggesting the same thing," Kirk replied. He leaned forward over the desk. "You think there's something there that I don't know?"

"Like maybe our First Officer doesn't want to lose his plaything?" Sulu suggested with a smirk. The captain's laughter was grim.

"Well, between you and Vulcan tenderness, Chekov's not going to be much of a problem, is he?"

"No, sir, I don't think so." He paused. "Let me toy with him, Captain. Let Spock teach him better manners. Then you can kill him."

"Is he really that good?" Kirk wanted to know.

"I know he's not exactly your type," the Security Chief replied, "but believe me, sir, he's mine."

"Why do I indulge you, Lieutenant?"

"Because you know as long as he's under my thumb, he'd not going to cause you any trouble." He paused. "And I do need an occasional - diversion."

Kirk laughed again. "True. And as it will keep my First Officer - diverted - I can wait for more final discipline." He sat back in his chair. "Very well, Mr. Sulu. I'll give you a week."

Sulu rose. "Thank you, sir. And if anything further turns up, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Of course you will. Dismissed, Lieutenant."

Sulu left the office, and let the guard wonder at his muted chuckle.

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Pavel waited nervously in what were his counterpart's quarters. Sulu had brought him there and told him to ' be a good little pet and stay out of sight' until he had spoken with the captain. The Russian passed the time by closely examining the cabin. It was far more opulent than his own quarters; an expensive Persian rug on the floor, wide, luxuriously upholstered over-stuffed chairs in the living area, a double-wide bed with a velvet bedspread in the sleeping area. A decanter of cut crystal with matching glasses stood on a sideboard, and next to it was a set of antique Matushka dolls that Pavel recognized as belonging to his grandmother. A matched set of ancient but well-preserved shashka and kindjal hung on the wall, and a 19th Century Cossack uniform stood on a mannequin in the corner.

Pavel shuddered at the thought that his family had once been Cossacks, and stepped to the decanter. It was filled with expensive vodka, and he poured himself a hefty glassful, draining it in one long gulp. He had poured another when he heard the hiss of the cabin door and turned, expecting Sulu.

Daphne walked in instead.

"Is that for me, Pavel?" she asked, crossing to him, taking the glass from his hand. ' How sweet." She took a mouthful, then leaned over the glass, kissing him. "Valley was such a bitch," she continued, moving away from him to curl up in one of the chairs. "She kept saying that Kirk was going to have your head stuffed and mounted on their cabin wall." The chemist made a face. "I told her Sulu was taking care of it, and the whore had the audacity to say then there'd be a different kind of head on his wall." She smirked. "But here you are, safe and well, my darling." She raised the glass to him.

"So it would seem," he replied cautiously, and turned to fill the second glass with the clear liquid.

"He didn't hurt you too badly, did he Pasha?" she asked with a sensual pout.

"No, not too badly," Pavel repeated.

She set the glass aside, and opened her arms to him. "Come here, my darling, and let your Dafshka make it all better."

Not knowing what else to do, Pavel drained his glass and crossed the room to her. She stood, taking him into a seductive embrace, kissing him with a skill far beyond his Daffy's considerable talent.

"There, there," she murmured, her hands running over his body, "are you bruised, baby? Burned? Any lash marks I can kiss away?"

"No, Sulu was - quite careful," the navigator returned, feeling the flush coming over his face.

"He must want to play with you some more, then," she said. "But I get some playtime in too, don't I?" She kissed him again, pulling him down into the large, soft chair. She placed his hands on her breasts, her own beginning to remove his uniform.

Pavel's head was spinning, and it certainly wasn't from the two paltry glasses of vodka. This Daphne was intoxicating in the same way his lover was, only darker, more intense, and more sensually determined. He tried for a valiant fifteen point four seconds to resist, then melted into her hedonistic arousal.

He bent his head, devouring the flesh before him, finding the opening at the side of her short halter. When it peeled away, he was momentarily shocked to see that, like her nostril, Daphne's nipples were pierced, the same kind of delicate chain running between the gold rings. He fingered one ring and Daphne gasped, then arched her back, pushing her breast into his hand. "Don't be so gentle, Pasha," she whispered.

It sent urgency pulsing through him, and he closed his hand, pushing the flesh back toward her chest. The feel of the ring and chain against his palm gave another surge of hunger, and he took her other nipple into his mouth, playing with the adornment with his tongue and teeth. He felt her hands coming to the back of his head, her moan breathless and eager.

"Gods, you get me so hot, baby," she said, and moved under him, her legs spreading beneath him. "I can't wait, Pasha," she begged, "Please, baby, don't make me wait."

Pavel's hand left her breast and he grasped her hips, intending to push her uniform skirt up and remove the briefs beneath it - then found that there were no briefs beneath it. Her own hands were pulling at the seam of his uniform and he inhaled sharply as she freed his erection from the cloth. A moment of positioning, and she was gasping as he thrust into her, clinging to his back, her cries breathless and wanton.

Heartless Cossack! he scolded himself. This is not for survival! What will you tell Daphne?

Can you really be cheating on Daphne with Daphne? his mind rationalized.

Then he felt the muscles of the flesh surrounding his cock begin to squeeze him in a delicious rhythm and he gave himself to the rising ecstasy.

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