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"In
the Name of Art"
A few curious glances followed Marie as she made her way to the captain's quarters, wearing flip-flops and a burgundy silk bathrobe, and nothing else. Stopping in front of his door, she gave a sweet smile to a passing crewman and then put her finger over her mouth in a gesture of secrecy, already enjoying the prospect of gossip that would be spreading throughout the ship within the hour. Captain Spencer was receiving loosely dressed female guests. She wondered if he'd hold it against her and pressed the door chime. Captain Spencer responded to the door and stood speechless for several seconds. He fought to keep any expression from his face, desperate not to give her the satisfaction. As new as this crew was together, it was inevitable that one of the first things that would form would be a rumor mill. And this was destined to be one of its first subjects. And there didn't seem to be much that the Captain could do to prevent it as he saw several other crewmembers stroll past and stare. "Yes, thank you for coming over, Ensign." He said formally, "Please come in." He stood aside to let her enter. "Nice of you to wear the robe at least." He muttered to her as she walked past him much closer than an official visit would suggest. "No problem. I thought it would be much easier to take off than the uniform." Her voice had a singsong quality to it as she stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. "How nice." Spencer had set up an easel near the foot of his bed with a small table next to it containing a palette. An assortment of acrylic paints were piled randomly around a container of water holding a variety of brushes. The walls contained a few samples of his work, mostly landscapes and still lifes. Marie regarded the paintings silently for a while before she turned to him again with a look of innocence on her face. "Do you need all that light to paint? Wouldn't it be more comfortable if we turned it down a little lower?" "Actually, appropriate lighting is very important." The captain turned off the room's main lighting with the exception of a small work light over his canvas and a warm colored light that hung low, casting a long shadow across the bed. "I assumed that the bed would be the most comfortable place for you to relax for an extended period of time." The bed... naturally. Marie still stood in the middle of the room, not taking her eyes off him while she was trying to read his expression. The corners of the mouth twitched with a barely suppressed smile. She asked, "What would you like me to do, captain?" Spencer paused, was there a hint of innuendo in her voice? He chose to ignore it. "You're going to need to find a pose that feels natural and comfortable. Something that you can hold for a while and something you can easily return to after taking breaks." He crossed back behind the easel to make sure the gesso that he had prepped it with was dry. "I'll adjust the lighting once you're set." He began to warm up, doing some fast gesture sketches of her with charcoal on a pad of paper. Marie sauntered over to the bed, bent down to test the firmness of the mattress with her fingers, then slowly straightened up again and faced him, her hands on the belt of her robe. Spencer's eyes were moving back and forth between her and his pad; she had his full attention and she liked it. "And off we go," she cooed as she slowly undid the knot and let the smooth silk slip from her shoulders and down to the floor. She stood for a second or two, closely watching his expression before she climbed onto the bed with a soft smile on her lips. Spencer tried to keep his reaction professional. There had been a lot of discussion lately that this was an era where Starfleet physical requirements sorely lacked. But as the Captain looked at the naked body of his navigator, he had no doubts about the fitness of today's Starfleet officer. Soon she found a suitable pose with one forearm propped on the mattress to support her while the other was draped over her hip and thigh. Never having done this before Marie she was a little surprised at her own lack of bashfulness. In fact, she was savoring every single second. "Is this alright?" she asked him. "That looks good," Spencer said thoughtfully as he carefully scrutinized her and her situation. He quickly began circling her on the bed, readjusted the lighting. After making sure the main light created an interesting contrast of light and shadow across her form, he added a second light behind and below her to create a backlight that outlined and accentuated the curve of her body. "Just let me know when you need a break." Spencer took his place behind the canvas and began sketching on the canvas with his charcoal. He was completely in an artistic mode now. The sensuous nature of the curves, forms and textures of Marie's body became artistic challenges for him and he lost himself in every detail of her. She watched him work with a soft smile on her face. In the low light and with the look of concentration on his face he looked very different from the man he was on the bridge and in uniform. Very different, and certainly no less attractive. "So," she said, "when was the last time you painted a nude study?" Spencer paused for a moment; he was so involved in his work it took him a minute to remember. "Actually it hasn't been for about 6 or 7 years," he said as he returned to his painting. "I was able to get involved in a group studio when I was teaching at the academy. I only kept a few samples." He nodded towards several canvases' that were slipped behind a dresser. Marie started to look that way. "Keep your chin up please, you're losing the light in your eyes." He said rubbing the wet paint with his thumb. Marie sighed and rolled her eyes jokingly, returning to her original pose. "You're really quite professional," she said, wondering if there was a hint of disappointment in her voice. "What did you expect?" Spencer raised an eyebrow without shifting his gaze from his work. "Pillow fights and stripper music?" "At least! And candles, red wine, a massage... The possibilities are endless. What do you think people are going to start saying about us?" "Oh I'm sure that when I hang this painting on the bridge, everyone will understand." Spencer hid his smirk behind the canvas and just peeked at her from over the top. "Hah!" Marie chuckled lightly. "I very much doubt that. You might start getting more requests for nude studies, though." She sat up straight on the bed in order to stretch her arms a little. "Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment." Spencer took advantage of her break to stretch his own arms. She smiled sweetly. "Only you wouldn't live long enough to enjoy them because I'd have to kill you first." "Certainly not with the fencing skills that got you into this situation." He winked at her. Marie's smile vanished as she allowed herself the luxury of a silent glare into his direction, not without a hint of amusement. "Who says I didn't lose on purpose?" "Somehow I don't think losing on purpose is part of your make up. Would you like a drink?" He stood and left the sleeping area to the living area where a counter with several bottles and a couple of glasses resided. "Always." At last they were getting somewhere. She considered sneaking over to the canvas to take a look while he was gone, but he would have noticed. She also considered putting her robe back on until he continued painting but decided against it. "I hope you don't mind if I call you, Marie. There's just something wrong about being formal with a naked woman." He said as he returned with a drink for each of them. "I thought you'd never ask," she said, taking the glass, and looked up at him as their hands briefly touched. "You know, there's just something wrong about being naked with a formal man... What should I call you?" With the hypnotic spell of his artistic focus gone, Spencer was once again very aware of the beautiful woman in his bed. "David usually works pretty well." He sat on the edge of the bed near her. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "David..." Marie slowly, realizing that something had changed suddenly; a first name-basis had not been part of the plan, but she was not going to let that throw her off-balance. "We need a toast," she said. "A toast to... artistic discipline." She gave him a mischievous smile as she raised her glass and waited for him to clink his against it. "Here's to you toasting to discipline of any kind." He smiled as he tapped his glass against hers. Marie took a sip, paused, then bent down and set the glass down on the floor. "Tell me, David..." She drew her legs up onto the bed and faced him. "Is your discipline always that good?" She cocked her head to one side, reached up with her hand and let her fingers slowly travel up his arm and his shoulder towards the back of his neck while she softly continued to speak. "Well, I suppose as captain of a starship you do need a lot of discipline... for all kinds of situations..." "Well of course." He turned to face her; one knee pulled up next to her naked thigh. "I always devote all my discipline to everything I do." His voice was also a whisper as he reached up to run his hand through the hair behind her ear. The contact was pleasant. Too pleasant for Marie to stay as cool as she had planned, but instead of drawing back she leaned in a little closer and rested her other hand on his knee. "Do you really?" Her fingers had reached his ear and moved slowly past it, down his jawbone and towards his chin, then up to his lips where she let them linger, teasing him while she spoke. "What about the painting? Do you think you'll get it finished today?" "Probably not, you can't rush art, you know." He set down his drink next to hers, "I guess you're just going to have to come back for more." He nibbled at her finger playfully. When she pulled her hand away, they stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. Neither of them were exactly sure who started it, both hands pulled each others faces together in a kiss. It was sudden, sensuous and delightful, and when they drew apart after what seemed like minutes, Marie knew she had truly lost another gamble. Only this time she didn't mind at all. "You do realize..." As she spoke she teased his lips with hers, "that this will..." - while she began pushing against him until he lay flat on his back on the bed with her on top of him. "...compromise our working relationship..." "As your captain." he reached up to caress her breasts, "it's my duty to earn your respect in every possible way." "Mmh..." In between kisses Marie smiled while her hands were undoing the buttons of his shirt, moving across his bare chest and travelling ever downwards towards the waistband of his pants. "Lucky me..." After
that there remained no need for words. Their bodies corresponded of their
own accord as they were drawn together and swept away by their growing
desires, and neither wasted another second on the fact that the painting,
the root of their passion, was indeed not going to be completed tonight.
"Strategic
Withdrawal"
Marie woke up in the early hours of morning. The man lying beside her was still peacefully asleep, and at first she stayed still without moving, contemplating the unexpectedness of her situation. What a gratifying night this had been - unplanned but so pleasant, and completely out of place for their respective positions. They were lying close, bodies intertwined, and Marie could hear him breathe in the darkness. Did she even have feelings for him? Her plan had been to make him pay for beating her and winning the bet; to set the rumor mill in motion to his own disadvantage; to come and tempt him, drive him crazy and then leave him wishing he had never let her into his quarters in the first place. But things had developed quite differently... How ironic. The captain and a junior officer... it certainly sounded like fun to Marie, but whether it would turn out to be anything serious remained to be seen. She regarded the dark silhouette of his face, savoring his smell, feeling his breath on her skin. Yes, there was definitely something there; attraction, if not something stronger that had yet to be defined... But he would find himself waking up alone and then he could decide how to proceed. Marie carefully untangled her limbs from his and slid out from under the covers, almost knocking over one of the glasses that were still standing on the floor, and picked up her robe. She would have taken a peek at the unfinished painting but it was too dark, so instead she moved silently into the living area, got dressed and then left, heading for her own quarters and a shower before her shift began. With
a smile playing over her face she wondered just how much longer she would
have to put up with that nurse, or any roommate at all. Maybe she would
be moving into single quarters soon... After all she had connections now.
"Warm
drinks, Cold bed"
He woke up with a start. The first thing he realized was that she wasn't there. Her robe and flip flops were gone too. Marie Larron had obviously slipped out in the early morning. He sat up groggily and reached for one of the glasses still on the floor. The ice had melted. Once again Captain Spencer questioned his own leadership skills. He had arranged for Marie... Ensign Larron to come down to his quarters to give her a lesson in discipline. A fine teacher of discipline he turned out to be. Just the slightest flirtation and BAM! He had pounced into bed with her. "I'm sure she learned her lesson." he said as he got out of bed and returned the glasses to the recycler. He poured himself a glass of water and carried it with him. Then he returned to the half finished painting. Only the basic shapes and forms were there, but what shapes and forms they were. It was no wonder he fell to the temptation. Finally he smiled and turned to look out the window. "Aw
hell, every Captain is allowed one vice, isn't he?" he said standing naked
infront of the stars.
"Private
Parts"
"Is this seat taken?" Marie asked the young green- skinned woman who was sitting at a table by herself. Marie knew she was David Spencer's yeoman, and it couldn't hurt getting to know her a little. "Oh, uh, yes Ma'am." Tarrah sat up a little straighter. She glanced around quickly noticing there were many other empty tables. She was a bit self concious that the officer would come seek her out in this dark corner. If she had lost her skills with men, she hoped that didn't mean... Setting her tray with coffee and croissant down on the table Marie took the chair opposite her and smiled faintly. "I thought I should say hello. Marie Larron, as you may know." She extended her hand and winked. "And assuming that there's only one Orion native on board you must be Tarrah." "Yes, Ma'am. And you are Ensign Marie Larron; deck 6, room 642." Tarrah couldn't help but feel that she was being tested. "I helped Captain Spencer with a lot of the crew's files and assignments. We go way back, David and I, he helped me get into the Academy." Tarrah realized she was beginning to babble, but this was the first friendly person she had encountered on the ship. "Really?" Marie looked at her over the rim of her coffee cup. "Yeah, he seems like a nice guy..." "Can I tell you a secret?" Tarrah leaned forward. "Captain Spencer is gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I find it surprising that he keeps it secret." Matching the girl's conspiratory pose Marie leaned forward as well, trying to hide the grin that kept trying to spread on her face. "Is he really?" Her tone was that of someone learning an extra-fascinating bit of gossip. "How do you know?" "I know because, well, I have to admit, I thought that a yeoman was supposed to... you know. Well, I was in his bed and he passed, you know what I mean? He left me alone. Not only that, but he went and slept in the other room. He completely ignored me. I'm an Orion! You know what that means? So it's obvious he's gay." Marie slowly set her cup down on the tray, her face turned downwards so the Orion wouldn't see her smile. There were several answers she could have given the yeoman - most of them sarcastic -, but Marie decided to play along for a little while longer. She looked up again. "You were in his bed?" she asked with a mixture of interest and amusement in her voice. "Well," Tarrah squirmed a little in her seat, "I mean, wouldn't you be? He's gorgeous!" "Hmmm..." Deciding not to comment Marie busied herself with her croissant while she thought about Tarrah's story. The Orion was attractive, to say the least. The fact that David hadn't touched her told her another interesting detail about him. Talk about discipline - Marie knew that most men would have given in to the temptation. But not David. Fascinating. "You know, maybe he was just tired. And I suppose he knows how to restrain himself. But that doesn't have to mean he's gay." Was she trying to make Tarrah feel better, or trying to defend David? Or perhaps both? Marie wasn't sure, but she couldn't resist adding, "Or maybe... you know. Maybe he just doesn't sleep with his yeoman?" "Do you think so?" Tarrah was completly taken aback. That thought hadn't even crossed her mind. "Even an Ex-Green Orion Slavegirl yeoman? If he wouldn't sleep with that what would he sleep with? I still think he's gay." She took another mouthfull of her lunch. Marie blinked. The nerve this girl had... "What would he sleep with? Tarrah, has it ever occured to you that -" She broke off, shaking her head. Obviously it had never occurred to Tarrah that her charm may not work on everyone; that, in fact, she may be overestimating herself. "You don't suppose..." Tarrah put her fork down and looked up with a horrified look on her face, "I've heard about where guys got it blown off in battle. David's been in Starfleet a long time. You don't think he had it blown off, do you?" "It?" Marie put down coffee and croissant, cocked her head and looked at Tarrah with a feigned mix of interest and complete innocence, while wondering briefly if certain rumors had already made their way across the ship. "Blown off? Whatever do you mean?" "Yeah, you know..." Tarrah waved her hands toward her own groin. "His thingy." "Ohhh..." Marie leaned back in her chair. "I see. Well, don't worry," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't think he got it blown off. I'd have noticed." "You've seen it?" Tarrah's attention was totally riveted on Marie. "He and I were in the gym the other day, fencing..." Marie's expression was unreadable. "Those suits are tight, you know." "And you saw it? His bulge?" Tarrah was practically jumping up and down in her seat. She was as excited as a schoolgirl. "How was it? Did it look... You know... Good?" Once again she made vague shapes with her hands that seemed to be suggesting something. Marie shook her head, trying very hard to stay serious. "Absolutely. Wonderful. You really missed something. But..." She leaned forward again and lowered her voice as if revealing a secret. "Now that you know: don't spread the word. A yeoman shouldn't divulge information on her captain's private parts, matters, or affairs." She straightened up, finished her coffee and said, "If you'll excuse me, I have to be on the bridge in a few minutes. It was nice talking to you." "It was nice meeting you too, Ensign. And don't worry, I won't say a word." Tarrah made the vow with a somber look. Marie smiled, rose and picked up her tray. Now that she had cleared up one mystery about David, she decided to create another for the curious cadet. She said, "By the way... if you were in his quarters, you've surely seen his collection of paintings. Quite nice, aren't they?" She winked at Tarrah before she turned and left, wondering what wild theories the young Orion would come up with this time. David's
painting? Tarrah had never really paid much attention to them before.
As his yeoman, she did have access to his quarters for organizational purposes.
Perhaps she would have to go take a look at them...
"Navigational
Rendezvous"
A few minutes after Marie had begun her morning shift on the bridge she heard the turbolist doors open once more behind her. Someone mumbled a "Captain on the bridge," and one or two people sat up straighter. Marie's first impulse was to turn around, but she didn't. Instead she concentrated on her console, wondering if they would get a moment alone later on or if, somehow, she would manage to get a reaction from him with everyone watching. The first thing he saw when entering the bridge was the back of her head. One leg emerged from the short skirt and wrapped around the side of her chair. The memories of the feel of her stopped him in his tracks. But he was on the bridge now. He had to start making a positive impression to the rest of the crew. He had to show that he meant business. "Navigator, what is our current course and position?" he said as he took his chair and logged in his command codes. "Course is still 347.29," Marie answered, wondering just why he kept making sure two or three times a day. For a random shakedown cruise he was being awfully concerned about their heading. "Position, 148.6 degrees by 429." He acknowledged, and Marie knew that this was all she could expect while they were both on the bridge on official duty. Any personal conversation would have to wait until later... Eventually, Lt. Fitzgerald requested a brief break. Spencer granted it, turning helm control temporarilly to the navigator. Once he was gone, the Captain approached the flight control console and leaned over Marie as if offering his input. "Hi." he whispered. "How are you doing?" Looking up briefly to meet his eyes Marie suddenly felt her pulse quicken. It surprised her; she hadn't felt it for a while. "Fine, thanks," she answered quietly, pretending to show him something on her console. "A little tired, though. Someone kept me up last night. And yourself?" "A little groggy, but at least it was a pleasant night." He pointed at her console in an effort to look like he was participating in official business. "I hope I'll have an opportunity to finish the painting?" "I hope so too." Marie snickered a little. "How about tonight? You think your discipline will last this time?" "I beg your pardon, Madam." Spencer glanced around to make sure that no one was paying any attention to them. "Perhaps I meant for the evening to go along exactly as it did. I had to earn your respect one way or another." He slipped her a smile. "Hah." Marie shook her head, returning his smile. "Believe that if you want to. But speaking of discipline... I was talking with your yeoman this morning." The conversation was growing longer and Marie knew that soon the interaction between captain and navigator would attract attention, but until Jonothan came back she was willing to take the risk. "It seems that your rejection of her advances gave her all sorts of funny ideas. She'd be quite shattered if she ever found out about what we did last night." "Hmm, maybe I'll have to sleep with her too." Spencer sighed. "Oh, feel free to." Considering Marie's past experiences his statement had a painful ring to it, but in the same instant she realized that he didn't owe her anything. "But then you'll have to find another model for your painti-" The bridge doors slid open, and Fitzgerald returned. David straightened up and returned to his seat, and Marie bit her lower lip, concentrating on her console and trying to bury the little seed of doubt deep inside. Nothing was certain yet. She would just have to make sure not to get too attached. And
nevertheless she was looking forward to the evening.
"Saving
the Captain"
The USS Republic was finally underway. That meant that all the department heads had verified their stations fully operational, and all crew had reported in. Dr. Finnley had finished assigning tasks to the Medical crew and realized that in his rush to ensure Sick-Bay and it's instruments were fully operational, he'd neglected to make final checks of the Bridge station. So he delegated Dr. B'bala, the Allurian who'd been given the position of second in command of Medical, and then he proceeded to the nearest turbolift. "Bridge." It wasn't that Baxter had an aversion to the Bridge or anything, he just hadn't considered it. Period. It wasn't nearly as important to him as the Sickbay was, and so it had been allowed to slip his mind. But now, the Bridge station needed to be checked so that Baxter could feel confident that all systems were optimal before the XO began her evaluation of the ship. The turbolift whizzed up several decks until it finally slowed and stopped. Baxter stepped out of the lift and turned left to head to check the medical / environmental station. It was a small station, concerned with a much smaller system on board than the Engineering or Tactical console controlled, but it was certainly important. As he sauntered over to the console, he happened to glance at the Captain. A thin trail of drool had escaped the corner of Captain Spencer's mouth as his head lolled to the side. The professionalism of the bridge crew kept their eyes on their tasks, not on the Captain, and at this moment, Dr. Finnley was certain that no one had noticed Captain Spencer's current incapacitated state. Dr. Finnley quickly came to a decision. He reached over and grabbed a PADD then descended to the command area of the Republic to stand before the Captain's Chair. In a slightly elevated voice he said, "Captain Spencer! Here is the report on the readiness of Sick Bay and the Medical team on board the Republic! There are a few issues that I would like to discuss with you, if we could please do so in your ready room?" Spencer's head snapped up and it took him a moment to realize where he was. When he realized that he was on the bridge, in the captain's chair, he was even more stunned. Not again! A tap on his shoulder reminded him of the Doctor's presence next to him. He turned to look at him and saw the PADD in the doctor's hand. Finnley gestured to it to remind the Captain of its presence. "Oh, uh, yes Doctor. Perhaps we can look at that in my ready room." As he stood up, he felt a small dribble of drool off the corner of his mouth. He casually tried to wipe it off with the back of his hand. "Lieutenant Commander D'Veccio, you have the bridge." He said as he and the doctor got into the turbolift. The doctor followed the Captain into the turbolift. "Deck 2?" At a confirming nod from the Captain, he grasped the handhold. "Deck 2." The doctor stood quietly next to the Captain, letting the Captain collect himself. The doctor kept his eyes forward and waited for the Turbolift to come to a stop. The doors of the lift swished open, and he followed the Captain down the hall to his quarters. The doors swished open for the Captain, opening into the front vestibule of his quarters. The Captain turned left into his office; the doctor followed. "You had a... uh... report, Doctor?" although he was pulling himself together, he was still a bit fuzzy. He gestured toward the PADD that the doctor was holding when something caught his eye. "Weapon manifests?" he had caught the subject of the title that was on the PADD, "Since when is that a medical issue, Doctor?" "Well, unfortunately it seems I grabbed a PADD from the tactical station in an attempt to help you save face, Captain. You were asleep at your post on the bridge. I don't think any of the junior officers noticed, however I thought it would be... well, somewhat embarrassing if they had? Besides that, narcolepsy can be indicative of certain medical problems. Have you been having trouble sleeping Captain?" The doctor popped the medical probe out of his Tricorder and waved it towards the Captain. "From these readings, I'd say you had gotten perhaps three hours of sleep over the last fifty or so hours? Is everything all right, or are you in need of a more thorough exam?" "Thank you, Doctor." Spencer blushed and turned away from Dr. Finnley. "I do appreciate your help. But I'm fine. You know the pressures of getting a ship launched." "Of course, I understand the kinds of pressures you're under, this is your first command, and it's a big responsibility. But I don't think Starfleet would look favorably on your falling asleep on the Bridge, Captain. There are only two conclusions I can draw about your fatigue - Either you can't sleep when you get to bed at night - which I could fix with certain Medical interventions - Or you aren't allowing yourself to actually go to bed, which would suggest poor judgement on your part. Since I doubt you would be in the position you are now without having shown good judgement in the past, I have to assume the former is the case." As the doctor spoke he stepped towards an Easel in the corner covered by a burgundy velvet cloth. "Ah, I see you paint. Have you been trying to relax yourself before bed by painting?" The doctor reached to remove the velvet cloth, revealing a small portion of a woman's midriff. "Yes," Spencer rushed to divert the doctor from uncovering the portrait of Ensign Larron. He snatched up his newest painting. "Sorry, that one's not done yet. I'm kind of particular about showing stuff before it's finished. I have several finished samples over here." Crossing through the connecting door to his sleeping chamber, Spencer replaced the still wet painting with the stack of canvas' he had stored there. He brought these back to the doctor happy to be changing the conversation. "I do find painting relaxing. I'm hoping to do a bit more of it now that we're underway. You know, it's always much easier once you establish a routine." Spencer chose to try diverting the doctor's focus once again. "So have you had a chance to examine crew medical histories? Have you found anything of note?" "Ah, classic diversionary tactics. Well, no matter. Yes, Captain, I've been through a swath of the crew's medical history. Mostly the staff officers to start. So far everything looks adequate. I will be scheduling initial examinations for the entire crew to be completed over the next few months as time allows. As for your sleeping troubles, if you want I will give you a full examination to diagnose the problem. However, if you're just not feeling quite yourself today, you may have a "doctor's note" to take some time off and catch up on the sleep you've missed. That way, you'll be at your prime well before this ship comes under pressure, rather than being asleep on the Bridge." "Thank you, Doctor." Spencer smiled. "I'll accept your recommendation to take the afternoon off, there's no reason Lt. Cmdr. D'Veccio can't handle things for a while. And I promise to report for a full physical at your discretion." The Captain stood in front of his sleeping quarters with his hands calmly folded in front of him. "Very
well, then, Captain. If you'll have your Yeoman contact me at some
point, I'll arrange time for you to come have a physical when it
best fits your schedule. In the meantime, get some rest.
The ship isn't going to fall apart without you. I'd also suggest
a "do not disturb" sign, if you've got one." With that, Finnley saluted
the Captain, and headed out of his quarters, back towards the Bridge,
to finish checking the bridge station.
"Background
Information"
"Would you mind taking your feet off the table?" Liana, Marie's roommate, was standing in front of her. Her voice had a piqued edge to it. Liana was blond, from Finland, and probably a nice girl, which she hid well by constantly trying to establish her views on "How to Share Quarters on a Starship", which differed from Marie's about as strongly as the North Pole did from a tropical forest. "Yeah, I would," Marie said, not moving. She had downloaded David's official personnel file to a PADD and withdrawn to the couch, which was more comfortable than the chair by the computer terminal. Although it was a little hard to concentrate with Liana standing there and glaring. Marie heaved a deep sigh, lifted her legs up off the table and curled up on the sofa, never sparing Liana so much as a glance. After a few seconds the nurse left, and Marie had David's file to herself again. It was quite fascinating, but it also showed her how little she knew about the man she had spent the night with; and a great night at that. She smiled softly at the memory. Hopefully there were more nights to come. But on to his file. With mild surprise Marie noted that he'd been a navigator, too. Though his career looked decidedly better than hers. Marie doubted she'd ever have a command of her own. Not that she wanted to, anyway. David had had his first command experience on the USS Shapiro, and it looked like it hadn't really been voluntarily. With the captain dead, David had been in charge of getting the ship out of an attack and to safety, with minimum systems and support. And he had succeeded. Marie smiled. She'd heard that story soon after she had learned of her transfer to the Republic, and while it had not impressed her much then, in retrospect things looked a little different. Back then she had not imagined to be posing for a painting of his, either. Following the attack by the Romulans the Shapiro had gone to warp and had been sucked into a wormhole. All this had happened at 148.6 by 347.29 by 613... didn't those coordinates sound familiar? She might not have remembered if earlier, as per captain's orders, she hadn't checked their heading for the nth time since they left spacedock. The direction they were heading in... it would sooner or later take them to the exact spot where the USS Shapiro had been attacked. This was an interesting bit of information. Why would David want to go back there? Officially the Republic was only supposed to be taken out for a spin as a sort of shakedown mission. There had been no mention of any set coordinates; plus, David had never mentioned to anyone that they were going anywhere special. This whole matter had an air of secrecy about it, and Marie knew how to appreciate a good secret. Still,
in this case she supposed she would have to ask him about it, perhaps tonight...
if only to see his reaction to the fact that she knew. What he would then
choose to tell her was another matter in itself. Who was to say that he
would trust her? After all... he probably knew as little about her as she
did about him.
"Under
the Cover"
Tarrah waked into the Captains office, placed the PADDs on his desk and crossed around behind it. Sitting down he activated his console and activated it. She had finished up several of his reports and now she had some updates to make to his appointment calendar. She spun in his chair as the appropriate data appeared on the screen. "Captain Tarrah of Starfleet," She said in a deep voice, "Ready for duty..." Suddenly she stopped her chair and stared across the desk. The door to David's personal quarters was open and on the far side of the dark room, she saw an easel with a new canvas on it. A dark cloth lay over the painting. Slowly and tentatively she stood up and moved towards the door. Marie had said that Tarrah mentioned David's artistic skills and it was a part of the man that the Orion woman knew little about. But having been thrown out of his bedroom before, she felt especially self-conscious about entering his private area now. But the covered canvas called to her. She inched forward. She found herself tip toeing through the dark room despite herself and eventually the painting was within reach. She reached out and brushed the fabric with the tips of her finger. She hesitated for a moment before she pinched one corner of the fabric and began to lift it... Suddenly a sound behind her made her turn. David was there! He was lying in his bed! It was the middle of his shift; he should be on the bridge! She stood frozen for an eternity before she realized that he was asleep and the sound she had heard was his breathing. His naked chest emerged from above the sheet and moved gently with his breath. Below the sheet one leg shot straight while the other bent to the side. And there, right where it should be, the bulge under the sheet created a mound in the covering. Mesmerized, she moved towards it, completely focused on the shape. Maries teasing description had tormented the Orion and now she may actually be able to one up the Navigator. With one finger extended, she reached toward it and gently gave it a poke. Both it and the Captain responded. Tarrah jumped back as David murmured and shifted slightly; but he remained asleep. Tarrah looked back at the bulge. It seemed to have shifted slightly. Tarrah swallowed and tried to steel up her courage. Her hands were shaking. Being as careful as she could, she reached down and picked up the edge of the sheet that was covering him and began to lift. What was that Starfleet motto? She thought, "Boldly go where no man..." ah, but if David was gay, I guess that wouldn't count. She crouched down to look under the cover as she lifted it. Finally she saw the dark outline of his bare leg and followed it up to his thigh until she saw... A pair of Starfleet issue briefs. Suddenly
the Captain moaned, rolled away from her and pulled the sheet out of her
hand. Unable to take to tension any more, Tarrah ran from the room
and dashed out of the office.
"Destinations"
"Slept well?" Marie asked when the doors to Captain Spencer's quarters slid open. The subtle smile on her face indicated that she was only teasing him, although she had already had her private laugh about the situation; after all they had both been tired, but she had stayed awake. Then again, unlike her he was rested now, which put the advantage clearly on his side. She was wearing decent civilian clothes this time, simple cotton pants and a small t-shirt, but nevertheless she walked past David into his quarters without waiting for an invitation. Today she didn't care for any spectators to their rendezvous. "I would have woken you up, you know. But I figured you needed it so that now you can pour all of your energies into that painting. Or whatever else you were going to do tonight." She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "Oh yes, I'm well rested." He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "And the doctor has ordered me to engage in some kind of relaxing exercise." He kissed her deeply and passionately. Marie felt herself melt into his embrace, arms wrapped around his neck and her body pressing closer against his. Had she been able to spare a second on rational thoughts, she would have concluded that she was very lucky to have lost that bet. When they drew apart she looked up at him, into his dark eyes, and smiled mischievously. "I like that. We'll make sure to get you relaxed..." "But it appears I have to talk to you about being out of uniform, Ensign." With that he slipped his thumbs under the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up over her head. "Whoa... you just can't wait to get that painting finished, can you?" Marie asked, grinning as she slipped her arms out of the shirt and then carelessly dropped it to the floor. "Why did I even bother to get dressed in the first place? But I demand a quid pro quo..." She ran her hands under his shirt, up his chest and then down to his pants. "Or, as the French say, 'ricompense'...," while she began to undo his belt. She was rather certain that the painting was not what David had in mind right now... ******************** Several hours later, Marie had resumed her pose. This time the bed was rumpled and unmade, but David was able to adapt the painting accordingly. He had returned to the easel and was once again working diligently at the details of Marie's portrait. In the spirit of ricompense, David had remained naked following their lovemaking and sat nude as he worked. Once again he was able to immerse himself in the work, but this time the intimacy with which he knew the shapes and curves of her body energized his artistic expression and gave him a new focus on his subject. Marie herself felt satisfied and at ease, and she found a certain fascination in watching him work with his clothes off. She wondered if her ever-present smile would find its way into the portrait as well. Still, she remembered something else, and maybe now was as good a time to bring it up as any. "Hey," she said casually. "I noticed that you've been double-checking our course ever since we left spacedock. Are we going anywhere particular on this cruise?" "It's a captain's job to make sure a new crew is following orders and accomplishing its goals." David said evasively. He tried to pull his focus into his work. Suddenly he felt a bit more naked. "Excuse me?" Marie had to laugh. "What kind of answer is that? You're trying to tell me that the course you set is simply a test for us to see whether we can make sure that the ship follows it? I don't think so." "And what makes you say that? We had to go to some somewhere?" He asked innocently. "Of course we do. I'm just wondering why we're going exactly where you had your first encounter with a wormhole..." She looked at him, anxious to see his reaction to the fact that she knew. "The wormhole was simply created as a reaction to the imbalance of the Shapiro's damaged warp drive. It had nothing to do with..." David broke himself off. "Like I said, we have to start somewhere. Maybe we'll find something maybe we won't. That's what exploration is all about." He began puttering on the background of the painting, careful to avoid looking at Marie. She sat up, noticing that his focus had shifted, drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "But you're looking for something, aren't you," she said softly. "And you want to keep it to yourself. Maybe it doesn't even have anything to do with the wormhole..." Spencer put aside the paint brush now that she had broken the pose and turned to face her. "The whole reason we're out here in space is to look for things. But no, we are not going to look for the wormhole, there's no reason to expect that it's still there." He stood up and crossed to the window to look out at the stars. As if he could visually spot what he was looking for. It had always been difficult for Marie to judge when best to quit and when not to. This time it was no different, but she knew that she didn't want to put a strain on whatever was building between them. She rose from the bed and walked over to where he stood, leaning softly against him from behind and resting her hands on his shoulders. "You're not fooling me, you know," she said. "If it's not the wormhole it's something else, but I obviously can't make you tell me when you don't want to. And as it is, I'm fresh out of blackmailing ideas..." She gently began to massage his shoulders. He relaxed into her manipulations of his tense back muscles. After a couple of minutes, he turned to hold her. "The problem is, I honestly don't know what it is." he said sincerely. "But then how do you know you're looking for anything in the first place?" Marie shook her head in mild disapproval. "Not that it really matters. As my captain, you're supposed to not only earn my respect, but my trust as well, aren't you? In every possible way." She smiled before adding, "But if I find out that you're using the ship and the crew for your own personal issues, or that you're sleeping with your Orion yeoman, you won't live long enough to adequately regret either." "My Orion yeoman? What would I ever want with her when I can barely keep up with you?" With that he swept her into a deep and passionate kiss. "I guess I'll just have to keep doing what ever I can to keep earning your trust." |
