Thread: Together
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Old April 13 2012, 03:05 PM   #8
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Re: Together

Yimar sat in quarters, Joss climbing all over her. She punched a console button, “I need to contact Lafa II,” she said.

Chip Masterson came on, “Hang on,” he said, “Okay, go ahead.”

Treve's face filled the little screen, “What's going on?” he asked jovially, then realized she was worried, “Are you all right?”

“There's, um, there's something going on,” she said, voice a bit on edge, “Ten humans were grabbed, including his parents,” she indicated Joss, who was holding onto the edge of a desk and sucking his thumb.

“Do you want to come home? Do you want me to call Father?” Treve asked.

“No, to both,” she said, “I, they can't really let me off anyway. They have to go looking. And I almost want to see if I can work this out myself.”

“Yimar, you don't have to.”

“I know. But, uh, I kinda like being independent like this. And nobody ever leaves our system. I don't wanna spoil it for everybody.”

“C'mon, you're not spoiling it. Things, they, they happen,” Treve said.

“You get to be independent.”

“I am six years older than you are, Yimar.”

“Well, I still want to, I want to try. And I don't want to give up on his parents. It's only been a few hours. How far can any ship get? It's not like anyone can go faster than Warp Seven,” she pointed out, “They have other ships that are looking, too.”

“Is it the Klingons? Their space is nearby, you know.”

“I know. And that's who they first contacted. It seems unlikely, or at least they didn't do anything official or anything like that.”

“I don't want you to be in danger. You're my sister and I love you. Besides, Father will kill me if you get hurt.”

She smiled a little, “I'll be fine. Like you said, things happen.”

“Keep in touch,” he said.

“I will. Yimar out.”

She looked over at Joss, “'Ommy?” he asked.

“No, not Mommy.”


“No, my brother is not your Daddy.”

“'Ommy!” he yelled, then began to wail loudly.

She found the stuffed dinosaur, but that wasn't comforting enough. Then she set him on her lap, shushing him and rocking him, but that didn't work, either. He just kept howling “'Ommy! 'Ommy!” over and over again, teary and becoming more and more incoherent as his face reddened and got wetter and wetter.

Yimar began to realize she was his only caregiver and comforter, on a ship where she knew nearly no one.



Lili finally let out the breath she'd been holding. Still shaking, she looked up slightly, to see Malcolm still leaning over her, kind of smothering her a little bit, and kneeling in front of her.

Then she noticed something else.

A hand groping her.

Crystal blue eyes met darker blue eyes.

Then mouths collided.

Then other body parts collided.

And so it continued, in four other chambers, variations on a theme.


His accent made her giggle.
He was strong.
He had a great nose.
His eyes sparkled.
He was a good kisser.

She was hugely pregnant.
It didn't matter.

She was always someone he'd thought of as a sister.
It didn't matter.

She wasn't his type.
It didn't matter.

She was young enough to be his daughter.
It didn't matter.

She wasn't his wife.
It didn't matter.


Sleep overtook all, as it does after so much activity.

Deep, dreamless sleep.


Yimar got up the following morning, late and still exhausted. She'd slept with Joss in her arms all night, in the bed that Lili and Doug had occupied. Perhaps Lili's smell would calm Joss down. Maybe he was just overly tired from crying. Whatever had happened, he had at least slept, “'Ommy?” he asked as soon as he was awake.

“Not yet,” she said. She looked over the basket of fruit. It was all wholly unfamiliar. She punched the communications console, “I, um, can I talk to, uh, Brian?”

“Delacroix here,” he answered.

“Oh, hi,” she said, “There's fruit in here. I don't know how you eat it. Can you help me?”

“Once I get the breakfast dishes done. Uh, twenty minutes,” he said.


There was a kiss, to Lili's right ear. Then another, to her right temple. The mouth needed a shave, stubble brushing lightly on her face, breath a little warm, small smile next to her cheek. A right hand touched her waist lightly. She could feel the body behind her. Standard morning fare.

Lili lay on top of a strong left arm, with a powerful chest behind her that was breathing regularly. She opened her eyes and followed the arm to its wrist and hand and fingers, to no wedding ring, where she expected one.

Alarmed, she leapt up, as quickly as her bulk would allow.

Kick kick kick Kick Kick Kick.

She grabbed the thin blanket and covered herself. This left Malcolm exposed.

“Oh my God!” she yelled, “What the hell is going on?!?!”

“What –!” he yelled back, then covered himself with his hands.

She turned away, found his shorts and threw them at him. Then she proceeded to look for her own clothes, while still covering herself with the blanket, “What the hell happened?!”

Don't you know?” he yelled back, putting on his shorts.

“Yeah, I guess I do know,” she said, finding her underclothes, “Don't look,” she commanded. He turned away as she got dressed.


Similar scenes played out in the other four chambers.


Get your hands off me!” he yelled.

“I – what?”

“You heard me,” he was seething. He stood up and got himself to the other side of the small room, then began to pace.

“Oh my God,” she said, “I never did that with a guy before.”

“Oh God,” Doug said, running his hands through his hair, “You were untouched, Melissa?”

“Not exactly.”


“Crewman, I have behaved completely inappropriately,” Jonathan said, “If you want to file a complaint with Starfleet when we return, I won't object.”

“Sir, that won't be necessary,” Deb said.

“You're within your rights.”

“I know. But, it's okay.”

“It is not okay.”

“Yes it is, sir. 'Cause I wanted to do that.”


“Sir, every woman on the ship has a crush on the Captain. Or, at least, I know I do.”


Jennifer was sitting and rocking in a corner.

Travis got dressed and got up, “I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.”

“I can't tell Frank. Frank's gonna kill me. Frank's gonna kill me. Frank's gonna kill me,” she kept repeating to herself.

“Jennifer, I'm sorry.”

“Frank's gonna kill me. Frank's gonna leave me. Frank's gonna leave me,” her voice rose in panic.


“Do you s'pose we really meant to do that?” Tripp asked.

“Well, sure, on some level. It's almost like we were drunk,” Hoshi said.

“Yeah. Inhibitions fall, libido rises. I've always respected you.”

“I know. And I appreciate that. I always thought of you like a brother. Never this way.”

“Never? Hmm. Well, I always thought you were kinda cute. But, you know, not approachable.”

“Not approachable?” she asked, incredulous.

“Well, there's the age difference and all.”

“It's not that much,” she said, “Cute, huh? Like a puppy?”

“Ha, no. You know what I mean,” he kissed her and she didn't object.

“You realize we can't do this when we get back to the Enterprise if we expect to have a prayer of ever working together effectively again.”

“I s'pose not,” he said, “So, let's make the most of this.”
Oh, Stewardess! I speak Jive! (fanfic with all ratings). Author of Untrustworthy
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