Author’s Note: PWP alert! P/T with a side of Delaneys (but mostly P/T). Written January 2002, but set in Season Five when Captain Proton was BMOC and Our Favorite Couple was nothing but sizzling hot lovers. Let’s say all this occurs in the time between (more or less) “Thirty Days” and “Course: Oblivion.” Rated NC-17.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns it all. Always has, always will. I accept this.
Scourge of Intergalactic Evil, Indeed
“What the hell…?”
B’Elanna was passing by Holodeck Two at the close of Beta Shift when she heard a terrific thump against the holodeck door. An unusual sound, though it probably happened often enough, considering the nature of most of the holodeck programs, but not so often at the exact second when someone walking by heard it.
B’Elanna had just worked a double shift, and had not seen Tom for twelve hours prior to that. To say she was itchy for contact with something other than the underside of a blown console was putting it mildly. This unknown noise roused her curiosity enough that she stopped right there in the corridor.
Standing there chewing on her lower lip, she argued with herself about what to do, at first considering checking to see what program was engaged and who was using it. She immediately dismissed that idea as a distinct invasion of privacy. Lord knew, they had little enough privacy as it was aboard Voyager. She had taken a determined step towards the turbolift when the thump sounded again.
Resistance became futile. She back stepped to the console in front of the holodeck and addressed the computer. “Computer, show video of holodeck interior. Authorization Torres Alpha One.” A small video screen obligingly appeared. B’Elanna watched for a minute, as the camera’s eye scanned the room, and then her eyes went wide.
Megan and Jenny Delaney, clearly in the Proton program, dressed as Demonica and Malicia, were pressed up against one of Chaotica’s ridiculous contraptions. And they were kissing. Not holographic versions of Captain Proton and Buster Kincaid, but each other. Most passionately and with obvious practiced ease.
Though she could see perfectly well, B’Elanna raised up on her toes and leaned closer to the screen. “Oh, my.” When the backs of her thighs started tingling, it was all she could do to tear herself away, erase all evidence of ever having been there, and make swiftly for the turbolift. Simmering down in the lift, she belatedly realized she’d never seen what might have caused those thumps.
* * *
“Well, well, well, Jenn and Meg, you say,” Tom teased, reaching over to pat B’Elanna’s behind as she leaned over the dining table to place silverware on the opposite side. She was wearing a dark purple kimono that favorably exhibited her slim brown legs, plus a great deal more.
“Yes. Stop it!” She slapped his hand away, not in the mood for his shenanigans, instead wanting to talk more about what she had seen the night before.
At least she wanted to believe she was not in the mood and wanted to talk.
They were in his quarters, just sitting down for dinner together, a rare occurrence lately. Tom kept his cabin a bit warmer than was necessarily comfortable for a human, but it was always just right for B’Elanna, which was why he kept it warmer in the first place. It was not, however, “just right” at the moment.
“Listen, I don’t know what you want me to say,” Tom continued, sitting down with his plate of chicken parmesan. “I mean, they’re both gorgeous women, and you know what they say about twins…” Tom paused and studied B’Elanna, noting her agitated state and recognizing it for what it was. He broke off his original thought, since he really didn’t know what “they” said about twins, anyway, and started again. “What’d you think?”
B’Elanna played with her napkin, picked up a bite of chicken and ate it, stirred her pasta, and then finally lifted her eyes to his. No sense beating around the bush. He had seen it in her eyes, anyway, never mind she was sweating, and she never sweated – at least not from replicating dinner. “Well, since you already know, Ensign, it, uh, kinda turned me on.” She felt a familiar ache between her legs and shifted in the chair in a feeble attempt to relieve it.
He grinned with satisfaction and pointed his fork at her, ignoring her gibe about his rank. “Gotcha.”
She hated it that he knew her so well. “Yeah, well,” she started defensively, then wilted, tossing her fork onto her plate with a clatter and pushing the plate away. “Yeah, well, I think we’re all getting a little strange on this ship, is what I think.” But she couldn’t stop a small smile and he caught that, too.
“Forget it, Bee. Yer busted. So…you still, er, hungry?”
She drilled her eyes into him, waited a beat, and then shimmied forward on her chair and spread her legs. The kimono fell away. “Yeah.”
* * *
Tom swore he could see the air heating up around B’Elanna. Staring at the patch of dark curls she flashed at him, Tom felt his shorts tighten up. Since that was all he was wearing, he was pretty certain B’Elanna saw his reaction. In fact, he was pretty certain that was the reaction she was going for. He could’ve been in his EVA suit for all it mattered. She had x-ray vision when it came to him.
Not that he minded.
He patted his thighs and held out his arms. “C’mere, lover. You know what you do to me.”
She rose, opened the kimono’s belt, and walked loose-hipped to him. “Don’t ‘lover’ me,” she said with a feral grin, “you started it.” As she spoke, she straddled herself over his thigh, lifted her feet from the floor and curled them around his leg, so she was literally hanging on his leg, supporting herself with her hands against his chest.
He grunted at her weight and moist heat, choked a little on his rising passion, swallowed, chuckled, and said, “Oh, I don’t think so, Miss ‘Guess-What-I-Saw-In-Holodeck-Two.’” A sudden mental image of Jenny and Megan Delaney together made him groan out loud. B’Elanna snorted as if she had read his mind and ran her tongue up his cheek.
“You are so rotten, Tom Paris. I believe that’s why I love you so much.” She kissed him deeply and then trailed her tongue around to his ear, spending time licking it and blowing hot breath against it, drying what she had licked. The sensation gave him chills.
B’Elanna reached across him to pull a strand of pasta from his plate. She playfully tossed the sticky string onto his chest and then leaned in and began to bite it off, being certain to nip him and to tug at the curly, red-gold hairs as she did so.
Tom just sat there and moaned in pleasure, giving her all the control. She eventually finished the spaghetti and began work on his nipples, running her tongue over them both and then settling on one to suck exclusively. She had started growling, a sure sign of her own pleasure.
Well, that and the fact that she was getting so wet, she was literally sliding off his thigh.
He brought his hand up to her ass to keep her from hitting the floor, and she snarled with satisfaction, put her feet back on the floor, and redoubled her efforts on his nipple. His eyes dropped shut when she began to ride his leg in earnest.
“Belle,” he exhaled in bliss, “that feels so good.” Her hair brushed his chest as she lifted her head, and when he opened his eyes, he could see hers had gone glassy and distant, her full lips wet and shining. God, she was so hot – literally hot to the touch and hot to his soul. He couldn’t think of anything but B’Elanna. She filled him.
He was so deep into his private worship that when her hand dropped to his shorts, he nearly sailed out of the chair. But she was already too far gone to laugh at him. With great effort, he took her hand away. “No, no, Bee, not yet, not yet. You now, let’s do you now, okay?”
“Ah, uh…” She blinked, as if not really understanding him, and then whispered breathlessly, her lips parting lasciviously. “Yes, let’s.” She consumed him with another deep kiss, moaning down his throat.
All right then. They were practiced lovers; he knew the best way to get her rolling.
He returned the kiss and the moan and then made his most intimate demands. “Fuck me, B’Elanna, fuck me. Hard. Jesus Christ, but you are a magnificent woman. I want your hot cum all over me. Fuck me, fuck me now.” He snarled as she had taught him, and she began to pound herself against him. The chair bounced with her efforts. He thought maybe he’d go ahead and ask her to touch him again, because he knew all it would take would be one little touch for him to lose it, and it wouldn’t matter if they were together in the moment or not, though he liked it better when they came at the same time.
But at this point he couldn’t reach her to ask. Her head was thrown back and she was panting heavily. She rubbed herself brutally against him, quivering, right on the edge of orgasm, and he had to hold her arm to keep her from falling over. The scent of her was everywhere. He inhaled deeply.
But he wanted to reach her, knew she would eventually need him to reach her in order to go over the edge. Sometimes they would try to stay on this edge for hours, just letting their arousal build to mammoth proportions, but not tonight.
She dropped her head forward and with effort focused on him.
He grinned and tickled the wiry black curls.
She kept up the game, granting him permission. “Tommy, you weak pahtk, go on and touch me.” She kissed him again, her full lips nearly covering his completely, and raised herself for him.
He slid two fingers into her, thumbing her swollen clit.
She made a familiar happy noise that Tom had identified as something between a grunt and a growl.
He pushed the kimono out of the way with his nose and filled his mouth with her warm breast. God Almighty, she was soaking, and he couldn’t get his fingers in far enough or his face close enough. He would happily smother and die here.
Impaled on his fingers, she started talking then, saying things he recognized only because he had heard them before, not because he actually understood the words. It was a Klingon/Spanish mix she used exclusively while she was making love and never at any other time.
He had asked her once about the words, at a time other than when they were in bed, because he was curious. She had frowned at his pitiful attempt at pronunciation, saying she didn’t understand how he even knew the words, as they didn’t mean anything and she did not remember ever saying them.
There was something about her tone that gave him pause, told him not to pursue it. So he didn’t. And for some reason, it never bothered him again, except in the way he most liked to be bothered. He accepted it as part of the mystery that was B’Elanna. Certainly, he had his own mystery. She deserved hers. If they shared these things at a future time, fine. If not, well, that was fine, too.
Now, distinctly bothered, he simply worked his fingers inside her, completely absorbed in the moment, letting her fill his head and his heart. She began to quake, and he felt contractions around his fingers. He took his mouth from her breast, replacing it immediately with his hand, and pinched the tight wet bud.
“Oh yeah, that’s it, Bella,” he crooned, increasing the tempo of his touch, “come for me, you just come all over me.” He began flicking the nipple rapidly with his finger, covering the other nipple with his mouth.
She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into him, and did exactly as he asked.
* * *
An hour or so later in the bedroom, Tom, naked and spooned behind B’Elanna, also naked, smoothed a hand down her thigh and risked a question.
“So…Jenn and Meg. Been giving that any more thought?”
She purred and he knew the risk had paid off. She lifted her leg, jostling his hand off her thigh, but inviting him deeper. He accepted the invitation, reaching between her legs to stroke her labia, pleased when she began getting wet beneath his fingers. Lightly kissing her warm back, he snickered to himself. She was so easily aroused.
Given his penis was rock-hard, however, he knew he didn’t have a whole lot of room to talk.
What a lovely mess they were.
She shifted her hips back into him and wiggled her ass. “Huh…yeah…I’ve been giving it thought. Pretty much the whole time we’ve been in here. What about you?” By this time, she had disengaged herself from him and rolled up onto her hands and knees, a further invitation. There was little effort or foreplay needed, they were so well matched as lovers.
Truth be told, anyone looking in would have seen right away that the subject matter was the foreplay, and if questioned, neither Tom nor B’Elanna would have disagreed.
Tom rolled up onto his knees behind her and guided himself to her, entering her to the hilt in one gentle move. She tensed around him immediately.
“Ah! Mmm..that feels so good, loverboy. You…didn’t answer my question.”
He pulled nearly all the way out of her and thrust in again, without haste, knowing it would drive her up the wall. It was certainly driving him.
“What…what was the question?” He thrust twice more, each time without pulling very far out, but continuing at a sedate pace. After the second thrust, internal muscles gripped him tighter and then B’Elanna bent her arms to change the angle and depth of his penetration. Now it was impossible not to move faster, but all she did was encourage him.
“Oh, oh, that’s it, that’s it, please, please, don’t stop, don’t stop.”
He loved it when she talked in twos.
They were both ready to come, and if he timed it just so, they might actually achieve it together this time. Not for the first time, he wished he had an extra arm, so he could touch her in more than one place and still have something to use for balance. Still, the choice wasn’t difficult this time, considering their position. He lifted his hand to trace a finger down the ridges of her spine.
Her response was immediate and powerful. She choked and began to spasm beneath him, inner contractions seizing him with Klingon strength. She was pulling his orgasm from him, and it felt wonderful. “Uh! Yesss! Tom…Tom…”
Before he could forget how to talk, he remembered they had been talking about Jenny and Megan and delivered his coup de grace, pressing his thumb into the hollow at the base of her spine. “Let’s…ask ‘em to join…us, shall…we..uhhh…”
It was the last coherent thing either of them uttered for an impressive while.
* * *
Several weeks later, they were still fantasizing about Jenny and Megan, but having no luck in approaching the possibility of making the fantasy a reality.
Once, after having successfully dodged Kashyk and his not-so-merry band of telepath killers, they’d thought they could couch their request in a Proton celebration and take it from there. But that didn’t work, because both Harry and, surprisingly enough, Seven, asked to participate, and B’Elanna’s reputation for hating Proton caused a few stumbling moments of spur-of-the-moment excuses. In the end, the ensuing adventure played out well enough, but it was hard for the Scourge of Intergalactic Evil to keep his mind on the story, what with B’Elanna sending subtle signals every time she got near Jenny or Megan.
The twins remained blissfully unaware of their intentions.
Or so they thought.
* * *
Jenny and Megan Delaney, together in their quarters, were chatting while undressing. To save energy, the Proton outfits were not put into replicators, but sonically cleaned and re-worn. They never got much heavy use, anyway.
“Didja think it was odd that B’Elanna was in Proton this time?” Jenny said, picking up a big paddle brush and running it through her sister’s hair.
Megan twisted around to face Jenny. “I sure did, and her reasons seemed pretty lame! I thought she did a good job, but didja notice how Tom kept flubbing his lines and…” And this they said together, “…B’Elanna kept touching us?”
“What’s that about, do you think?” Megan asked, looking as if she knew perfectly well what that was about.
Jenny raised an eyebrow and both women said in unison and with great amusement, “They want us.”
Okay, it was true that Jenny and Megan Delaney had been around the block a few times, but it could never be said they were particularly bad girls. It was just that they had always liked keeping their options open, and they preferred working together. Since landing in the Delta Quadrant, with no real hope of making it home before they were eighty, they had decided it would be ridiculous not to explore every manner of sexual adventure available to them.
“Well,” Jenny said, “next time they ask, let’s give us to them! Even if they don’t exactly ask, huh?”
Both women dissolved into hysterics.
* * *
The next chance Tom and B’Elanna got to consider fulfilling their fantasy didn’t come until Harry got busted for sleeping with Tal. He was out of the Proton picture, as was Seven-of-Nine, who was still recovering from her ordeal with the Borg Queen. Janeway, worried more about her Borg protégée than the sexual antics of her Helm Officer and Chief Engineer, made no comment when B’Elanna appeared on the bridge in suggestive civilian attire at the end of Alpha Shift one day to collect Tom right out of the pilot’s chair.
Her outfit caused Chakotay’s eyebrow to hit his tattoo and then some, but since he was worried more about Janeway than the off-duty sexual antics of Tom and B’Elanna, he also let it go without comment.
And so it was that Tom and B’Elanna, dressed as Captain Proton and Constance Goodheart, met Demonica and Malicia in Holodeck Two at roughly 1600 hours.
* * *
Since this episode featured the Twin Mistresses of Evil, Jenny leaped into her role, spouting off Malicia’s lines as if she were born to them. Megan, always less certain of her role and just a bit unsettled by the monochromatic aspect of the program, did not emote Evilness at the same level as her sister, but when it came time, she did an admirable job of affixing Constance Goodheart firmly to the Cradle of Persuasion.
What an appropriate name, she thought suddenly, and nearly blew her line.
“We, um, we have taken care of Captain Proton, Miss, uh, Goodheart. There is no one to save you now! Bwahahahahaha!!”
According to the script, B’Elanna was supposed to scream bloody murder at this point, but B’Elanna didn’t open her mouth, let alone scream, and this time Megan forgot her line completely.
Jenny came to the rescue, ad libbing, “Have you nothing to say, Miss Goodheart? Does not the Cradle of Persuasion provoke any kind of response whatsoever in you?”
“Oh, yeah, Malicia,” B’Elanna stated dryly, “it provokes a response, all right.” She twisted in the restraints, stressing the seams of her very-tight dress.
Jenny was not about to be outdone. She flicked her head at Megan, a signal that Meg should move around behind the Cradle, and then stepped up to B’Elanna, running a long dark fingernail up the inside of her arm. She was rewarded immediately with gooseflesh.
“That line’s not in the script, Constance. Will I have to show you how this Cradle works to keep you in line?”
“I guess you will.” B’Elanna ran her tongue over her upper lip and grinned.
If Jenny had had any doubts about what B’Elanna wanted from this adventure, she had none now. She flicked a switch and the Cradle began to hum, vibrating almost imperceptibly.
But it was vibrating, all right. Right to the center of Constance Goodheart. “Sweet, Jesus, Jenn. This is really not f..f...fair, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Want me to stop it?”
B’Elanna summoned enough control to pretend to consider the question and then abandoned the effort, moaning in pleasure. “Don’t you dare.”
Jenny, emboldened by the moan, asked, “So, mind if I kiss you?”
B’Elanna, extremely anxious to answer this question, finally figured out there must have been some kind of subsonics going on with the contraption she was on, for she was awash in a hazy kind of arousal that felt way better than simple vibrations. It was impossible to resist, even if she had wanted to. “Sub…sonics, huh?”
“Yeah. Neat, innit?”
B’Elanna only smiled and licked her lips again. “Kiss me already.”
Megan, standing behind the Cradle, watched the new scene play out, mouth hanging open. God, her sister had some balls, though she knew the enhancements Jenny had added to the Cradle had something to do with it. Still, it was some kiss. Megan was getting squishy.
* * *
Captain Proton, Protector of the Universe, came bounding into the Fortress, ready to do serious damage to the Twin Mistresses of Evil.
What he saw stopped him short and had him backing up against the bulkhead before he could be discovered.
B’Elanna, strapped firmly to the Cradle of Persuasion, was engaged in a very hot kiss with Jenny Delaney. Megan was standing behind them looking very strange, indeed. This was exactly what he and B’Elanna had been hoping for, but he’d thought there’d be a little more role-playing before things went this way.
He also expected B’Elanna to be a bit more aggressive.
He shook his head. No matter. He was ready. Scratch that, he thought, looking down at himself. He was more than ready. He silently crept up behind Megan.
* * *
Jenny, bent over and kissing B’Elanna deeply, really wished she could trade her Malicia outfit for something less constricting, but it was too late for that now. She did the best she could, touching B’Elanna in all the places she could reach.
The Cradle continued to vibrate, and that combined with Jenny’s particularly skilled hands, was sending B’Elanna into Klingon overdrive. She pulled her lips from Jenny’s and drew in a great breath. “Jenny, Jenn, please, if you’re gonna keep up the subsonics, then at least untie me. I have to touch you. I have to. Ever since I saw you…”
Jenny cut her off immediately, her hand stilling. “Huh? You saw me where?”
B’Elanna’s squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, God, nowhere. Never mind.”
Jenny reached over and switched off the Cradle. “You saw me where, B’Elanna?”
B’Elanna knew she was caught. “In here. You and Megan. I was walking by after Beta and heard a…noise. I looked. You were in this program, you were kissing each other.” This was not the way she and Tom had planned for this to go, but there was nothing she could do about it now but confess. “Turned me on.”
Tom, seeing trouble, leaped into the scene.
“Demonica! Malicia! Your evil plan is foiled! I have slipped your trap and have come to save my secretary, Constance Goodheart – though it looks,” he added wryly, stepping out of character, “as though she is not in need of saving.”
Jenny, her attention abruptly split by Tom’s sudden appearance and convoluted line, just stared at him as if he had three heads. This time, Megan took up the call. She rushed forward, switched the Cradle on again and bellowed in her best Evil Voice.
“Captain Proton, it is far, FAR too late for Miss Goodheart. She is under our spell and will do our bidding. The Cradle of Persuasion has seen to that.”
Jenny looked down at B’Elanna, who had begun to squirm again. She looked up at Megan, over at Tom, and then back down at B’Elanna. She said it turned her on.
And then she burst out laughing. “Jesus fucking Christ, you guys! All you had to do was ask!”
Tom set his Ray Gun very carefully on a console and walked over to Jenny. When he got close to her, he could hear an odd hum of power, something he knew was not part of his program. He looked down at B’Elanna, who was moaning on the Cradle of Persuasion.
It was then he realized said Cradle was the thing that was humming. And it was doing something obviously delicious to B’Elanna. He cocked his head at the Cradle and raised his eyebrow at Jenny.
She shrugged her shoulders, a sparkling gesture in the Proton outfit. “I made a few modifications.”
“Yeah?” To his experienced eye, B’Elanna looked about ready to climax, and it was causing a certain portion of his anatomy to respond almost painfully. “Must be some modifications.”
Jenny shrugged again. “Just some subsonics to sort of, uh, help with the…persuasion. She looked pointedly at his crotch. “So what’s your plan, Proton Man?”
He touched B’Elanna’s arm and she jerked in the restraints, but did not otherwise acknowledge his presence. “Okay if I kiss my girlfriend?”
Megan had by this time come around to stand beside her sister. Their arms went around each other and they chimed in unison, “Mind if we watch?”
Well, huh. It wasn’t that he hadn’t believed B’Elanna – certainly they had put her knowledge to mighty good use in the bedroom – but to see it for himself…
Then again, maybe B’Elanna was right, maybe they were getting a little strange on this ship.
Then again, if weird could be part of the job, then strange could be a good thing, couldn’t it?
All this went through his head in about a second, before he quit second-guessing himself and accepted it as the opportunity he and B’Elanna had been waiting for.
“Why, sure, ladies.” Tom leaned over and placed his lips on B’Elanna’s. She responded with such fervor he didn’t think he’d get the kiss done before she came. He forgot about the twins, suddenly very anxious to consummate his desire.
He pulled back and exclaimed. “Holy Mackerel, B’Elanna! How ya feeling?”
Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him in recognition before a look of subtle Klingon annoyance struggled across her face. “Fine. Turn this…thing…off and fuck me.”
He spared one glance at Megan and Jenny before stripping. They were…busy…and no longer paying attention to what he was doing.
“Computer!” He yelled, struggling to get out of his old-fashioned pants without falling over. “For God’s sake, end program and give us a bed! Something big and comfortable. Random pick from the Paris A-1 programs. Just make sure B’Elanna’s on it. Full safeties engaged.”
The computer warbled, the image shimmered, with B’Elanna suspended in mid-air for a moment, and then the place was transformed into a sleeping room with nothing but four walls, a fireplace, and a king-sized four-poster oak bed, covered in red satin. B’Elanna lay purring in the center.
He dived for her and heard a hushed “wow” behind him.
* * *
It didn’t take two seconds for Jenny and Megan to strip and lay down on either side of Tom and B’Elanna.
“Ooh,” Megan giggled, “a Tom-and-B’Elanna sandwich. Hardly any calories!”
Tom cocked his head over his shoulder to look at Megan. “Hey, I don’t know about that! B’Elanna says I’m sweet as sugar.”
B’Elanna poked him playfully.
“May I taste?”
Tom realized they always asked first. How polite. But then, they were always polite, no matter what they were doing…
Good Lord, stupid, stay in the moment. He puckered up. “Taste away.”
When his lips met Megan’s, he realized at once how different they were from B’Elanna’s. Not as full or as warm, but satisfying just the same. He rolled towards her and wrapped himself around her. Her long dark hair was everywhere, and it was a new thing for Tom. He began stroking it, kissing it, twisting it around his arm in a way he could not do with B’Elanna’s hair. He settled against Megan and let her soft hair caress him.
But it was not Megan or her hair that was doing such a number on Tom. Every time he moved, he could feel B’Elanna moving next to him, could smell her. Knowing she was there, so close, only made him harder.
B’Elanna, in the meantime, had taken Jenny into her arms and was proceeding to fulfill another part of their fantasy. Pressure from Jenny’s thigh was sending tingles straight down to her toes. She pressed her thigh against Jenny, feeling profound wetness, knowing she was making Jenny’s thigh just as wet. The sensation was intoxicating, and instinctively B’Elanna began rocking against Jenny, climbing toward release.
B’Elanna was mostly amazed at her response to Jenny’s method of lovemaking. She always thought she could not get off unless someone either had their hands directly on her or some other body part in her. But that was not the case right now. Obviously, the earlier subsonics had something to do with it, but there was no “edge” for B’Elanna. The friction they were producing was rapidly escalating to actual climax.
Then she realized exactly what it was that was sending her. Every time she moved, she could feel Tom moving next to her, could smell him. Knowing he was there, so close, only made her wetter and more aroused.
Megan was secretly delighted with the amount of attention Tom was paying to her hair. It was the first time anyone had ever actually kissed it. Even though it got in the way most of the time, right now she was never so glad for its length and the way it seemed to be hypnotizing Tom. He was a cautious lover, gentle, concerned with how she was feeling, while at the same time maintaining an impressive ability to provide himself with a good time. Megan responded with enthusiasm she had not known she possessed.
Jenny, thoroughly consumed by B’Elanna Torres, could not do the thinking her sister was engaged in. She just rode the waves when they washed over her.
* * *
“Yow,” someone whispered, “that was great.” It was a feminine voice, but exactly whose was anybody’s guess.
The four of them lay naked together, a jumble of post-coital arms and legs, long dark hair, and red satin.
Jenny asked the computer for the time.
:::The time is twenty-one hundred thirty-two hours.:::
“Ouch!” That was definitely Megan, who was trying to sit up and getting her hair caught beneath Tom.
“Wait, Meg, just a minute.” Tom lifted himself and Megan was able to free herself. Jenny, meantime, on the other side, had gotten up, managing to avoid the same problem with her hair.
“Sorry, to, uh, love and leave,” Jenny giggled as the other three groaned in harmony, “but we gotta run. We’ve got Gamma tonight in Stellar.”
“Ooh, right.” Megan turned a teasing smile to Tom. “I was having so much fun, I forgot.”
“Yeah,” Jenny quipped, “I hear ‘you forgot.’” Jenn addressed Tom and B’Elanna again. “Chakotay will skin us alive if we’re late for shift again. I’m sure you guys know all about that.”
Megan rolled her eyes, amazed again at her sister’s boldness.
“Computer,” Jenn continued, “how about some clothes? Delaney J & M, off-duty comfort civvies. Complete sets this time, please, one at a time, any color, Meg first.”
“Say, Jenn…” At that moment, B’Elanna remembered something she had wanted to ask. She realized it wasn’t exactly the time, but now that she recalled her question, she just had to know.
Jenny, busy with the replicator, answered with a preoccupied “Mmm?” She tossed the first outfit to her sister.
“Remember when I said I’d seen you and Megan in the holoprogram?”
“I told you I’d heard a noise and that’s why I stopped. Well, I didn’t stop the first time. I only stopped when I heard it a second time.”
Jenny, silent for a moment, suddenly began to laugh, tying the drawstring of her sweatpants. “Oh my God, you did say you’d heard a noise, didn’t you? No wonder you stopped. I would have, too, but I probably wouldn’t have waited for the second time. You shoulda asked me this sooner. You wanna know what that sound was, doncha?”
That kind of went without saying.
Rather than explain, Jenny addressed the computer. “Computer, access Proton accessories, Delaney subroutine 6, one set.” Onto the platform shimmered a pair of brown leather handcuffs. Lined with what looked like sheepskin, with a short length of thick pliable leather linking them. Altogether plenty enough to make a scrumptious thump when thrown against a holodeck door.
Tom’s eyes went wide, B’Elanna’s narrowed into dark slits, and nobody said a single word.
A couple of goodbye kisses later, and Jenny and Megan were gone.
“Wow. Um, what now?” A decidedly masculine voice.
B’Elanna untangled herself from the sheets, stood, and fetched the handcuffs from the replicator. “Computer, show location of holodeck arch.” The computer obliged, outlining the arch on the far side of the room. Swinging the cuffs, B’Elanna returned to the bed and without protest fastened Tom’s wrists to the bed above his head.
She then climbed upon him and began to crawl up his body, until she was positioned over his mouth, her warm thighs covering his ears. She leaned forward and whispered near her thigh. He could barely hear her, but he heard her enough, and her tone was unmistakable.
“Now, Ensign,” she commanded quietly, “you eat me.”
He wasted no time in obeying her command, pulling against the cuffs for effect, though they didn’t make a sound. Before he lost himself completely, he allowed one thought as to whether he would get to toss the cuffs against the door, or if B’Elanna would.
Either way was fine.