New: TOS Still Life in Triplicate [R] K/S/Ch 1/2
djinn_fic
AUTHOR: Djinn
CONTACT: dj...@djinnslair.com http://www.djinnslair.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: R
CODES: K/S/Ch
PART: 1/2
SUMMARY: Because I missed these three. And because life isn't
always about the big moments.
DISCLAIMERS: No infringement intended, no money made. I'm just
playing.
Thanks to Rabble Rouser and Trekki for the beta!
The head in the captain's quarters was too small for three people.
Or else the mirror was extremely far away from the door, like in
some paradox room where the inside was bigger than the outside.
Although it was probably just the bulk of two robust males blocking
her way that was making it so hard for Christine to edge past Jim,
who was finishing his hair, and Spock, who was cleaning his teeth.
"Of all of us, I'm the one who needs this most." She felt Jim's
hand drop onto her ass, tried not to laugh as he ran it up and
down. "That's not helping. You're both beautiful. I need mirror
time. Now, move over."
Spock moved slightly, letting her in. He spit into the sink, his
aim remarkably accurate considering he was coming at it from the
side. She dodged as Jim sprayed hair fixative, getting more in the
air than on himself.
Coughing and trying to protect her makeup case, she muttered, "Yeah,
this is romantic."
"You think she wants romance, Spock?" Smiling at his reflection,
Jim pushed an errant piece of hair back into place.
Spock had lathered up the toothbrush again--Vulcans were pretty
obsessive over their hygiene--and his mouth was all foamy as he
said, "Her tone would indicate that, Jim."
"Well, then romance it is." With one last look in the mirror, Jim
pulled her to him and kissed her.
In the background she could hear the sound of Spock brush-brush-
brushing and then spit-spit-spitting. It shouldn't have worked as a
romantic soundtrack, yet oddly, it did.
"You should wear your hair loose today, Christine. The Zinbalbi
believe only demons pull their hair back tightly." Apparently done
with his teeth, Spock worked on her bun as Jim pulled open her
robe. "Jim, not that I disagree that this moment is the optimum
time to have sex with our wife, but you are making it difficult to
fix her hair."
"She can fix her own damn hair, Spock." Jim was not to be deterred
from the romance issue.
She could feel Spock making progress despite the other husband
factor, mainly because he kept pulling her hair loose strand by
strand, which hurt like hell--never underestimate the tenacity of
the Vulcan male set on making his spouse presentable.
"Jim, please make him stop before I have no hair left."
"She looks great, Spock. Your work is done. Either help me with
the romance thing or get out of the way."
"I will prepare breakfast, then." Spock didn't stick around to
watch--he'd already been the victim of a fly-by humping. Jim had
been particularly amorous since the sex meld with V'ger, Will, and
the Ilia-probe. At one point, Christine, very sore and very tired,
had ducked into the closet when Jim had poked his head into their
quarters, a certain tone in his voice as he'd called for her and
Spock. She'd had trouble getting comfy in the cramped space because
Spock was in there, too.
"Hiding?" she'd whispered.
"No." She'd had a feeling that, if it hadn't been so dark in the
closet, she would have seen his eyes sparkling. He always seemed to
find it amusing to lie to her.
"Sore?" she asked.
A tired sigh had been a good answer. "Is there nothing you can give
him?"
"You think I haven't tried? I've been dumping all sorts of anti-
aphrodisiacs in his morning coffee. It's the whole godlike
mechanical entity factor--and getting his ship back--at work. He's
super pumped up."
"I see." Spock had seemed to be getting comfortable as he'd
said, "This is not unpleasant. We have not talked in some time."
Talking had been their downfall; they'd forgotten to watch the sound
levels.
Super-Jim had opened the closet. "There you two are. Trying
something different? Great idea. I'm in," and, pulling his uniform
off, he'd closed the door behind him. The closet had been cramped
and full of odd sports equipment she'd kept bumping against as Jim
pulled off her clothes and Spock's. By the time they'd finished,
many more parts of Christine had been aching.
She'd finally purloined a regenerator from sickbay and left it in
their quarters to patch up Spock and her. No matter what crazy
permutations they tried, Jim seemed to be feeling no pain.
Christine felt her hair being pulled out of the bun completely--but
at least it didn't hurt. "Jim, you're ruining Spock's handiwork."
"He'll fix it again." Burying his face in her hair, he inhaled
deeply. "Damn, you smell good."
She laughed. "You said that to Spock not too long ago."
"And I meant it then, too."
She was about to give him a sassy answer, when he began to pull out
all the stops in his attack. "Oh, God, oh, God, don't stop" was
about all she could manage.
He didn't stop, not for quite a while. By the time they were done,
Spock had peeked in, asked what kind of juice she wanted, and
disappeared again.
Pulling her robe shut, Jim smiled at her.
"Good to have your ship back?" She kissed him on the cheek.
"Damn straight, Christine." He moved her gently, so she was
standing in front of the mirror. "As you were." As he walked out,
he said to Spock, "I hope you made something for me, too."
She heard the sound of smooching and smiled. Spock always made him
something. Only this time, she would bet it was something full of
drugs--hopefully elephant tranquilizers. There was such a thing as
too potent.
---------------
"Oh, god. Oh, god."
The noises coming from the bathroom were a far cry from the happy
ones she'd made that morning. She rolled onto her stomach on the
big bed she shared with her husbands, and stared at Spock until he
turned around as if he could feel her eyes on him.
"Shouldn't we do something for him?" she asked.
Spock lit another stick of incense.
"That's not what I meant." Although it was cutting the smell
somewhat.
"He did insist on trying the Zinbalbi national dish. Even after you
warned him of the possible dangers."
"Your compassion is overwhelming." She closed her eyes as a long
groan sounded from the bathroom.
"I have compassion for him. I also feel a great deal of relief. Do
you think he is getting rid of whatever is making him so amorous?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure it's something you can expulse that
way." She glared at him when Jim moaned again--clearly in
distress. The sound of leaking gas and other things accompanied
the moans. "Don't you think you should do something?"
"I am unsure what it is you expect me to do. And are you not the
doctor in this marriage, Christine?"
"And that's exactly why he wants me to leave him alone. He's not a
good patient at the best of times..."
"Very well." Spock got up and walked to the door--she could tell he
was trying to breathe through his mouth. "Jim, do you need
assistance?"
"No. I'm fine." There was silence, then another groan broke
through.
"You are certain?"
"Spock, leave me." A low moan sounded. "The hell." The sound of
the lock engaging filled the room. "Alone."
Spock skedaddled back to his desk. As much as a Vulcan ever
skedaddled. A very slow-rising eyebrow was his only comment for her.
"The man gives new meaning to the word stubborn." Plus, he was
hogging the damn bathroom. Sighing, she pushed herself up and
walked to the main door. "I'll be back in a jiffy."
"Could you be more precise? Since I have known you, a jiffy has
ranged from five minutes to two hours."
"Has anyone ever told you you're anal retentive?"
A low moan came from the bathroom.
"That was the wrong word. I'll be ten minutes. Tops."
Spock nodded, but he looked as if he didn't believe her. Shaking
her head, she hurried out of their quarters and down to sickbay.
Doctor Lazora, the Gamma Shift physician, looked up at her in
surprise.
"Need a little remedy for the Captain. Bad reaction to--" What
would you call the raw testicles of the Zinbalbian version of
Tyrannosaurus Rex? "Local cuisine."
Lazora just nodded, letting her get whatever she needed--one of the
benefits of being both second in command in sickbay and married to
the captain. Loading up a hypo with what she needed, she grabbed a
hydrator drink, then ducked into the head. She'd had to pee for
way too long, kept holding off, thinking Jim would eventually exit
the bathroom.
Grabbing the meds on her way out, she called out, "See you," to
Lazora, who waved absently back.
Spock looked up as she entered the room.
"How long was I gone, oh ye of little faith?"
He nearly smiled. "Eight point three minutes."
"Only because I stopped to pee." She saw him look a little envious.
"Perhaps I will go check on my experiment in the lab."
"Perhaps you should."
He grabbed one of his padds--obviously this was not going to be a
short trip. As he passed her, he leaned in, kissing her gently on
the mouth. "He will appreciate the medicine."
"He will resist like hell."
"Once he stops resisting, he will appreciate it."
Christine looked toward the bathroom; another, very low, groan
started up. "I can't stand to hear him like this."
"Nor can I." Spock kissed her again, then more or less fled.
"Jim? Hon?"
"Christine, I don't want company." It was the first time he'd said
that since the V'ger meld.
"And I really don't want to visit you in there. So, how about if
you open the door for a second, and I'll hand you some medicines
that will fix you right up?"
"Don't need any damn drugs."
"Yes, Jim, you do. Open up, okay?"
"You couldn't have thought of this an hour ago?" He sounded very
peeved.
"I did, and you told me you'd keel haul me if I bothered you again,
remember?"
"You can't keel haul someone in space." He sounded very grumpy. As
if she should have braved the bathroom, anyway.
"Well, I really didn't expect you to be in there very long. You
normally have cast-iron innards." She couldn't remember the last
time he'd been sick.
She could hear the lock disengaging. Desperately holding her
breath, she handed him the medicine and the bottle of
hydrator. "Drink that all."
"Thanks." He was pale and a little sweaty and looked very
embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. I wish I could make it better, but I think
you'll do best on your own."
He nodded. "I wish it were morning again."
"Me too." She gave him as much of a leer as she could under the
circumstances. "Next time, don't eat the testicles."
He began to laugh gingerly. She could tell what he was thinking.
And he seemed to be thinking it with his old libido, not the V'ger
enhanced one. "No testicles?"
"Well...unless they're Spock's." She closed the door and let him
contemplate that in peace.
While she hurriedly lit another stick of incense.
-------------------
"Why do we have to do this, again?" Christine pulled at the collar
on her dress uniform.
"Because Jim loves to show off his ship." Spock looked serene, but
Christine had seen him fiddling with his collar earlier, too.
"And us?"
Spock almost smiled. "I am not sure Nogura is as big a fan of our
domestic arrangement as he could be."
"No, I don't imagine he is." She glanced over to where Nogura was
talking to Jim. They looked very serious, but she knew shop talk
would be over soon and the social part would begin. The part that
was likely to make Nogura a little squirrelly.
"He could be maneuvered into a greater appreciation," Spock said
softly.
Laughing, she wondered if any but she and Jim knew what a schemer
Spock was. "What's your suggestion, oh devious one?"
Spock met her eyes. "We could...charm him." He gave her a slow
once-over.
"You mean I could."
"Yes, that is what I mean."
Jim walked over with Nogura in tow. The admiral nodded tightly,
obviously a little uncomfortable with Jim's abundance of marital
riches. Christine looked at Jim, saw him frown slightly. Then
Spock cleared his throat--evidently her signal to get busy with the
charm.
"Admiral Nogura," she tried to make her voice go down to a purr--was
not sure if she could do it. Femme fatale was not normally her
style. "It's so very nice to see you again."
He focused on her, as if it was the first time he'd ever seen her.
Christine suddenly wondered if some of Ilia's pheromones had rubbed
off during their orgy of a meld.
"We are extremely grateful for your willingness to allow us a joint
tour." She took his arm, saw his eyes dilate as she touched him.
Had to be pheromones. "Why don't we give you a tour?" She glanced
back at Jim and Spock. "Sirs?"
They got ready to follow her. Spock looking satisfied. Jim a bit
confused.
"I have to admit...I was a little skeptical about this
arrangement." Nogura put the twist people often put on that word.
Arrangement could mean so many things.
"It's just a marriage, sir. With all the ups and downs." At his
look, she smiled. "Okay, maybe in our case it's the ups and ups and
downs and downs."
He laughed out loud. She thought she heard one of her husbands
stumble--Nogura was known for yelling, not guffawing.
"So, you wouldn't consider this damned irregular for a command
crew?" he asked.
"Oh, no, sir, I would. But, when has James T. Kirk ever been
regular?"
"Got me there." Nogura grinned. "And Vulcans..." He shook his
head. "Spock could tell me he needed a pin-headed jellyfish here,
and I'd probably believe him."
"He is quite the salesman." She smiled. It had been Jim and she
who'd convinced Spock to give marriage a whirl. They'd been the
salespeople that time--and damn good ones. "I think the crew has
grown used to the arrangement, as well." She smiled at Sulu and
Uhura as they passed them. "No one's staring. Well, except at
you. We don't often get the head of fleet ops in our rec room."
"You think I don't know you're trying to charm me, Chapel?" But he
seemed to relax a little.
"Oh, I think you know very well what I'm trying to do." She leaned
in, so that only he could hear her. "The three of us work. On this
ship, with this crew, at this time. We work. Why mess with that?"
"Next time I need an advocate, I'm going to hire you." He looked
down at her hand. "And ease up on the pheromone assault. What are
you? Part Deltan?"
She laughed this time. "No, I'm human. There was this meld with V--
"
"--I don't want to know. It's better that I don't. In fact, I saw
it in the reports and just skipped on by. This is me, not listening
about my flagship's senior staff melding with killer machines. La,
la, la, la, la."
Christine laughed, charmed by this admiral who'd been sort of a
bogey man for so long.
Nogura perked up suddenly, turning toward the area where they were
preparing dinner. "What's that smell?"
"Kalbi. Jim ordered up bar-b-q, sir."
"Damn. He's pulling out all the stops, isn't he?" Nogura shot her
a look that was more speculative than annoyed. "He must really love
you two."
"He does." She smiled at him, her best inoffensive, "you won't mind
this alcohol bath, really," smile. The one she'd perfected as a
nurse.
"I'm not falling for that, Chapel." He looked back at Jim. "I like
her, Kirk. You feel like sharing--more than you already are?"
Christine glanced at her husbands. Neither of them looked amused.
Nogura turned around quickly. "Tough crowd."
She laughed. "They're both pretty territorial." She leaned in. "I
wouldn't want to share them with you, either."
"Not really what I had in mind." Patting her arm, he led her toward
where Jim definitely had pulled out all the stops on the Korean bar-
b-q. "I assume you'll have no such difficulty sharing meat?" he
asked her.
"You can have Spock's portion."
"Gee, thanks." Nogura pretended to be offended, but she could tell
by the way he was standing that he was relaxing even more. He let
go of her arm, making a big show of handing her back to Jim, before
he made a beeline for the buffet.
"Well done, wife." Spock bypassed the dead animal flesh and headed
for the veggies.
"He put you up to that?" Jim's arm was tight around her
waist. "Spock never fails to surprise me."
She smiled. "If Spock had thought Nogura would have preferred him,
I'm sure he would have set out to charm him."
"Anything for the cause?"
"Not a cause. Just our marriage." Smiling, she pulled away,
feeling his arm drop away from her. "And not anything. I wouldn't
have joined him in the head for a quickie on your behalves."
"Good to hear." He grinned at her. "Would you join me in the head
for a quickie?" As she punched him softly, he murmured, "I love
you," then he moved past her to join Nogura in line.
"I know," she whispered, more to herself than him. He loved her.
Spock loved her. Hell, she loved herself. It was a life she never
expected to have.
Not that she was complaining.
------------
"So. How many more drinks do you need to get drunk enough to tell
us what it's like to be in bed with them both?" Rand ordered up
another round for them. Obviously hoping Christine was getting
close to "spill" point.
"No power on this earth, Jan."
"This isn't Earth," Uhura said. "Not that it's not a very nice
planet." She'd gotten to the bar a little earlier than Rand and
Christine. Had sat with Chekov for a few rounds and was well on her
way to toasty. "I think it must be like heaven being between
them." She leaned in, her voice not dropping volume in the
least. "You do get to be in the middle, don't you?"
"No power..." Christine grinned, thinking of the times she was not
in the middle. Those were nice, too. Especially, when the boys
were on their snoring jags. You could only elbow someone so many
times in the night before your sleep period was pretty well mucked
up beyond repair.
"Are they warm and tender?" Jan threw back a shot of something very
dark, indicated Christine should, too. Rand didn't seem to care if
Uhura was drinking. But then Ny didn't have the dirt on what if
felt like to screw her captain and first officer.
"No pow--"
"--Are they firm and commanding?" Uhura asked with a giggle. "Do
they say, 'Wife, attend me,' as they get ready to ravish you?"
"You've been reading 'Vulcan Love Slave' again, haven't you?"
Uhura shrugged. "There's a reason it's a classic."
"I really think"--Rand ordered another shot for herself, seemed to
have given up on Christine since she still had not thrown back her
own shot--"that you, as our very, very dear friend, owe us this
information, Christine. I think you have a moral imperative to tell
us. At once." She hiccupped on the "at once" part.
"Uh huh." Christine sipped at the water she'd had the waiter bring
her.
"I think she's not going to tell us," Uhura said, seemingly pulled
into the instant funk of the very, very wasted. She touched
Christine's cheek. "Is the sex that bad?"
Christine laughed. "Interesting tack, Ny. Still not going to work."
Uhura straightened up. "I think it is bad." She winked at
Rand. "I think it's so bad that she can't bear to tell us. I think
if it's not bad, then she needs to set the record straight, at
once." She did not hiccup on the "at once" part. But then Uhura
had always been better at holding her liquor than Rand.
"I think you both need to get laid. At once." Christine saw Jim
and Spock come into the bar. "My husbands have arrived."
They worked their way through the crowd.
Rand looked up at Jim. "Sir. I've heard through the grapevine that
Christine may be considering some leave off the ship in the
future...sometime. May I offer my services as--"
Christine elbowed her. "Backup emergency med tech. Jan, that is so
generous of you."
"Bitch," Rand mouthed at her, smiling a little more drunkenly than
she was probably aware of. "Listen, I have to go now." She got up,
managed to walk in a straight line to the bathroom. Several men
smiled and called out greetings as she reemerged from the little
girls' room. Rand may have gotten older, but she was still very
popular.
Christine hoped she wasn't too drunk to know what she was
doing. "Ny..."
"She'll be fine. Besides, didn't you just say we both needed a good
la--"
"Layover. Yes, I did." As Ny winked and headed off to keep Rand
company, Christine ordered a round for her husbands--scotch for Jim,
water for Spock.
They took a seat on either side of her. Jim slouched like a
regular; Spock looked as uncomfortable as he ever did in a bar.
"They didn't have to leave just because we showed up," Jim said
softly.
Christine gestured back to where Rand was flirting with Lieutenant
Rondeson--a very, very good-looking man who'd recently transferred
onto the ship. Uhura was looking pretty coy herself around the
godlike human. "I don't think that's why they left."
Jim studied the younger man. "He's all right. If you like your men
pretty."
Spock glanced over. "He greatly resembles you when you were
younger."
Jim glared at him. Christine just laughed. Truth-giver Spock
raised an eyebrow and sipped at his water.
"I think Jan and Ny have excellent taste. They always did,"
Christine said, her hand falling on their thighs. If they'd been at
a nicely dark table, instead of at the bar in full view of everyone,
she might have let her hands stray to parts less thigh-like.
Sometimes, it was very fun being in the middle.
----------------
"Christine, lie still." Spock's voice was low, urgent.
Blazing pain ran through her middle, she felt as if she'd sucked
down an entire colony of fire ants and they were migrating across
her insides. Why had they let her eat fire ants? "Hurts.
Please..."
"Bones, for God's sake..." Jim sounded panicky. Jim never sounded
panicky. What could have made him panic?
Len didn't sound much calmer. "I'm trying, Jim."
Christine felt the fire spread. Down to her knees, up to her neck.
She could barely breathe. "What's happening to me?"
She felt Spock's mind reaching for hers, could feel the bond between
all three of them flare. They were worried for her. No--they were
terrified for her.
"Stay with us," Spock said, and she could hear Jim echo that order.
And she tried to stay with them, but she could feel herself being
ripped away. Could feel the connection between them starting to
fade. "I love you," she whispered, because she suddenly wasn't
sure if she'd ever have another chance to say it.
"Christine, no. Stay." Jim's voice gave her no quarter. He was
ordering her to stay.
She tried again, tried hard. But the connection continued to fade.
Somewhere, deep in her mind, she thought she felt another presence.
Not saying anything, just there, like a spider in the corner of a
ceiling.
Then she heard the hiss of a hypospray. Heard Len saying, "There.
I think that'll do it."
The fire cooled. The connection between her and Spock and Jim
stopped disintegrating, and she could feel Spock working to make it
stronger. The other presence faded--if it was ever really there at
all.
"Christine, stay where you are," Spock said, seeming to capture her
up in his resolve, seeming to move her away from the edge she
suddenly realized she'd been hovering near. It was pretty on the
side of the edge. Looked peaceful. One step off the edge and she'd
be floating down there.
"It is very pretty, Christine. It is not for you. Look away."
"Christine, look at us." It was Jim. She could feel him as strong
as Spock, and she wasn't sure how he was there like that, but she
smiled, or at least in her mind she did.
And she looked away from the pretty, pretty edge.
She could hear Spock sigh--in relief, she thought. "Christine," he
said, "open your eyes."
She did, and it was her real eyes, and she was in sickbay, and the
lights hurt. She closed her eyes with a mewl of pain and heard Len
order the lights to dim.
"Try again, darlin'," he said, his voice very gentle.
She opened her eyes and this time, it didn't hurt so badly. She saw
that Spock was bending near her, his fingers still pushing hard into
her face--she'd have bruises, she thought. Jim was behind him, one
hand on Spock's shoulder, the other resting on her head. Not
squeezing as hard on her, but Spock's uniform was crumpled under
Jim's grip.
"You saved me," she said, as Len shot her with another hypo and the
fire fell back even more.
"We don't want to live without you," Jim said with a tender smile.
"That's nice," she said, giving in to whatever other drug Len had
mixed with the cure--probably something that would make her
sleep. "I love you."
She slept, but she could feel Spock hovering at the edges of her
consciousness, coloring her dreams. Then her dreams changed; the
spider presence seemed to grow.
She moaned, or thought she did. She felt herself wake, only not in
a place she recognized. The space itself was dark and humid; a
green glow permeated every surface.
"Where am I?"
From far away, she thought she heard Spock calling her. She turned,
and turned again. He was nowhere.
A softer, female voice sounded behind her. "Doctor Chapel." The
voice was familiar and Christine turned in surprise, a smile growing-
-a smile that died when she saw what stood before her.
Ilia. Only not. She had changed again, was no longer the probe
that had overwritten the woman. Her throat no longer glowed with
V'ger's light, but her eyes pulsed a bright red as if lit from some
fire within her. Her formerly golden-brown skin seemed almost
clammy in its mottled grayness. There were strands all around her,
and when Ilia moved, it was as if a hundred spider webs moved with
her.
"Ilia," Christine whispered. "What...what are you?"
Ilia reached for her, a long tube snapping out of her hand with the
sound of wet skin tearing. "Do not resist."
Christine wanted to resist, but she couldn't. She stood frozen like
a rabbit on the prairie as the coyote advanced.
"Christine!" Spock's voice was loud now, startling her.
Suddenly, the spider presence was gone. Christine felt Spock all
around her, and she realized he was in her mind and that she was
still dreaming. He was closing pathways as she came back from a
place that had been deeper and far less pretty than death. She
tried to open her eyes.
"No, you need to sleep. I will attend you." Spock's mind-voice was
intent--she thought he even sounded a little bit scared.
"Where did I go?"
"A place of dreams. A place you should not visit again."
"Do I have a choice?" She could feel herself being sucked back into
sleep.
"I will give you one," he said, his presence comforting in the face
of such an awful dream.
When she woke after a long sleep uninterrupted by nightmares, he was
still there, fingers locked on her face. She could feel that he was
in pain, his fingers cramping, his mind rebelling at the long meld.
She tried to reach up, but was too weak.
"Jim," she said, and heard him get up from a chair on the other side
of her bed. "Make him stop. He's tired."
Jim walked around the bed, pulling Spock's hand gently from her.
Spock fought him, his closed eyes flickering.
"Let me go, Spock," she tried to send him through the meld. Tried
to let him know she was going to be all right.
"Let her go, Spock," Jim echoed in real words, his lips touching
down on Spock's cheek. "She's all right now."
Spock let go, his eyes opening. He looked exhausted.
"You need to sleep. I'm fine. No more dreams." She could feel her
own eyes wanting to close again. "As a doctor, I order you to
sleep."
"I'll make him," Jim said, manhandling Spock into the next bed, then
covering him with the light blanket. Spock was out instantly.
"You, too," she said to Jim. "Not a chair. Bed. Real sleep."
Taking Spock's chair, he ignored her command. "Someone has to watch
over you both." He leaned in, kissing her gently. "You gave us
quite a scare."
"What happened?" She remembered beaming onto the freighter, waiting
as the security men scanned the deserted ship. Once they'd given
the go-ahead, she'd begun to look around--searching for bodies since
there were no life signs. She'd stepped into one of the quarters,
had heard a noise and looked in the mirror near the door. There'd
been nothing there. But then she'd felt something behind her,
hugging her or molding itself to her, and there was a flare in the
mirror. Something big and ugly and blazing as if on fire.
"It was a Moroph Sym," Jim said softly.
She shuddered. They were the stuff of nightmares. The dimension-
hopping rat-like creatures that were as tall as a man and
occasionally hitched a ride on freighters crazy enough to stray too
near the Syms' home in the Kialis nebula. They linked to a victim's
nervous system, pulling energy out as they injected their fiery
poison. Without intervention, a victim could not get away, could
not fight. They burned up.
"That's why there were no bodies."
Jim nodded. "Starfleet thought we'd eradicated the portals to the
Syms' dimension."
Starfleet had obviously thought wrong.
"You pulled it off me, didn't you?" He'd been on the landing
party. Spock had stayed with the ship.
"I felt you through the bond when it attacked you. I thought--I
thought you were dead when I reached you. I couldn't feel you,
anymore. Once I killed the Sym and got you back here, Spock had to
go very deep to find you."
"But he did." She smiled, letting her eyes close. "Saved me."
"Just like on the planet. He saves us."
"Mmmm," was all she could say as she surrendered to the crushing
need for sleep. She knew Jim was watching over her. He'd saved
her, too. Both he and Spock had.
She was asleep almost before she could remember how pretty death had
looked and how scary that other place she'd visited had been.
-----------------
Christine stretched slowly, allowing herself the rare luxury of
having the big bed all to herself. She was still recovering from
that damn Sym attack.
Jim walked out of the bathroom, looking pretty glorious in nothing
but his nicely tanned skin. "You okay?"
The casual way he asked it made her smile. Since Len had released
her from sickbay, he'd been much more solicitous. Both he and Spock
had been. As if they needed to constantly check on her to make sure
she wasn't going to die. It was nice to hear him sound as if he
didn't think she'd break if he looked at her wrong.
Her husbands had kept her in the middle of the bed, hands warm and
lips seeking as they held her close. The only time she hadn't been
in the middle was when Jim and Spock were having sex. At first,
they'd seemed reluctant to make love when she was too weak to join
in, so she'd had to get firm with them, rolling out of their way and
saying, "For god's sake, screw, already."
Now, as she watched Jim moving around the room--she thought he was
deliberately giving her very nice views of all her favorite parts--
she didn't want to just watch anymore. She was strong enough if
they stayed away from mattress acrobatics.
"Actually, I'm not okay," she said, staring at him. At one part of
him. At a part of him that was getting easier to see by the minute.
"Oh, really?" Smiling, Jim went to the bathroom door. "Spock. You
might want to get out here. Our wife seems to be ailing."
Spock peeked his head out, clearly confused by the disconnect
between Jim's words and the casually good-natured way he'd said
them. " Ailing?" He looked over at her.
She nodded, trying to make her look as pathetic as she could. "This
bed is awfully big."
Spock had his uniform on, but he began to pull it off. She glanced
at the chrono. They had plenty of time. He was just overachieving
in the getting ready department as he always did--she thought he
generally built in time to screw one or both of them before starting
his day.
Jim climbed into bed, his body warm against her as he leaned
in. "You're sure about this? Doctor Chapel concurs with our wife?"
"She does."
Spock eased onto the bed, his touch very cautious.
She smiled up at him. "I won't break. Not if we're careful."
"Not if we spoil her very, very much." Laughing, Jim started to
nuzzle her neck. And then headed south.
Spock was staring down at her, tenderness evident in his expression.
"What?"
He didn't answer, just kissed her. His mouth gentle and warmly
loving.
Being touched by them this way was like coming home. Like she was
finally all right. A few minutes later, as she bucked under Jim's
insistent mouth, she was more than all right. She started to reach
for Spock, to touch him in ways she'd wanted to touch both of them
for days, but he pushed her hand away gently.
"It is our time to indulge you."
Jim came out from under the covers. "Officer thinking, Spock."
They both slid their hands down her body, their fingers meeting as
they found their destination. Jim leaned over her gently and kissed
Spock, and she smiled as she watched them. Then they seemed to
forget about each other for a time as their busy fingers took her
over and over again to the land of naughty pleasure.
As she lay, nearly dazed from all the climaxes, she felt them
settling in beside her, their hands again entwined as they lay over
her belly.
She opened her eyes slowly. "We can do other things."
Spock shushed her. "When you have fully recovered."
Jim nodded.
"Okay, but--"
Spock kissed her into silence. Then Jim said, "Go to sleep."
It wasn't hard to obey. She was warm and they were lying so close.
The bond pulsed even though Spock hadn't pulled them all into a meld-
-he'd thought it would be too much for her system.
"I love you," she said, as she felt her body relaxing.
"We love you," Jim said, kissing her cheek, then leaning over again
to kiss Spock.
"We love us," Christine murmured, falling into a deep dreamless
sleep.
End part 1 of 2
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages
can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML.
Acidqueen
> TITLE: Still Life in Triplicate
...
> CODES: K/S/Ch
Though I'm into threesomes, this particular one can be hard to swallow
at times - but this story works for me. Very hot parts in it, even
*fans herself* Cool meeting with Nogura and, again, great Rand inside,
too (I have a weak spot for her).
Thanks for sharing :)
Birgit
http://www.syredronning.de - Home of the Acidqueen