The BLTS Archive- Transports of Rapture
fourth in the Sh*ttl*cr*ft/St*rsh*p Smut series
by Sasscat Bu-to-y (fitchett@netaccess.co.nz)

---

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns Paris, Torres, Janeway, the shuttles and a
lot of things we wish had never happened.:)  No infringement intended.

Author's Note:  You know how I said I'd never write a sequel to "Power
Play"?  Well...  This is the sequel I wasn't going to write.  Along
with "Crash and Burn", the sequel to this one, which is somewhere else
on ASC at this very moment.

Thanks to Zeborah for beta-reading, moral support, and general sibling
wonderfulness, and to everyone who feedback-ed "Power Play".

WARNING:  Shuttle smut.  And more normal kinds of smut.

Warning 2:  I pulled this out to finish it in time for the Feb 3
deadline, thereby creating a shuttle romance category (hee hee -
thanks Raku!).  An unfortunate side-effect of my haste is that I'm not
entirely sure I understand the story anymore...  You've been warned.

(c) Sasscat Bu-to-y 1999

---

"Cochrane to Paris."

"What?!"  Tom tumbled off his chair, caught himself and glanced wildly
around his quarters before tapping his commbadge.  "Cochrane?!"

"Affirmative.  Cochrane requires the assistance of Lieutenant Paris."

"No.  Not again."  He shook his head firmly, as if the shuttle could
see him.  "We agreed it was a one-night stand, Cochrane.  Either patch
it up with B'Elanna or find someone else - and I don't mean the crew."

"Cochrane has developed interactions with shuttlecraft USS Sacajawea,
NCC-74656."  The bland voice sounded almost happy.

"Oh."  Tom blushed.  "That's... good.  That's good.  So why do you
need my... assistance?"

There was a slight pause.  "We are not... compatible."

"Compatible?  What--"  He suddenly understood and grinned wickedly.
"Uh huh.  You want to be modified so you can-- so you're compatible."

"Affirmative.  Will Lieutenant Paris assist us?"

Tom frowned.  "I'll have to clear it with the captain, and I bet you
don't want me to tell her about you--"

"Negative," Cochrane said sharply.

"Yeah, that's what I thought.  Which means I've got to lie to her."

"You are the only one capable of this, Lieutenant."

"B'Elanna could..."

"Negative!"

"...But I guess you're still mad at her," Tom finished.  "I'll see
what I can do, okay?"

"Thank you."

He stared at the wall.  "What did you say?"

"Cochrane thanks Lieutenant Paris."

"...Uh *huh*.  I'm not promising anything," he warned it.  "But I'll
try."

"Acknowledged.  Cochrane out."

"Shuttles," Tom muttered, straightening the chair.  "One night and
they think they own you forever."

---

Kathryn looked up as her ready room door chimed and hurriedly swung
her feet off the desk.  "Come in.  What can I do for you, Mr Paris?"

He took a seat and crossed his legs.  "Well, I was looking over the
schematics of a couple of the shuttles yesterday and I thought of some
upgrades I could make to increase efficiency."

Who spent their day off going over shuttlecraft schematics?  Tom did,
apparently.  "I see.  What does Lieutenant Torres think?"

"Well, I, uh, I haven't exactly talked to her about it..."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I wanted to surprise her," Tom said quickly.  "You know how she's
been overworking herself recently.  So have you, come to think of it.
Maybe I should come back some other time--"

Kathryn raised a hand to cut him off.  "I've got everything well under
control, Mr Paris.  Where you thinking of any shuttlecraft in
particular?"

"Coch--  The Cochrane and the Sacajawea.  If you want to look at the
specs..."

"That's quite all right, Lieutenant; I trust your judgement.  Are you
sure you don't want Lieutenant Torres to assist you?"

"No, I'll be fine.  Like I said, I want to surprise her."

She smiled.  "Good luck, Lieutenant.  Dismissed."

He let out a breath and walked out, leaving her puzzled.  Tom was far
from intimidated by her, so why did getting through a meeting leave him
relieved?  Perhaps she should have looked at those specs, after all.
Something very odd was going on.

---

She didn't have time to think about the puzzle for several days; the
perils of the Delta Quadrant, as always, distracted her.  This time
it was an inversion nebula they were studying, not to mention keeping
a stern eye on Harry Kim, who'd been distracted ever since - as rumour
had it - he'd started falling for some holodeck woman.

Today, not only was Harry not paying attention, but Tom was acting
slightly nervous, as well.  Since he, at least, was doing his job, she
had no reason to complain, but it was disconcerting, nevertheless.

She walked down to the front of the bridge, ostensibly to get a closer
look at this nebula, but mainly to reassure Tom.  Not that the nebula
wasn't interesting; astrotheory predicted it should be highly
unstable,
yet it was anything but.  "Beauty *and* mystery," she mused; "a
tantalising combination."

She could physically feel Tom force himself to relax.  What the hell
was wrong with him?  But then he looked up at her and smirked.  "No
argument here," he said suggestively.  Then, because Chakotay was
glaring from the science station, he glanced behind him.  "Right,
Tuvok?"

*That* was her Tom.  She couldn't help but smile at his audacity, and
wonder why she let him get away with these things.  Maybe because it
annoyed Chakotay; her first officer's overprotectiveness was beginning
to irritate her.

And then, of course, they got into an involved discussion about the
relative merits of 'extraneous emotion' and the appreciation of space
phenomena.  Kathryn roamed the bridge, checking everyone's stations
and making Harry blush for his earlier inattention.  Finally she
returned to the Conn, noticing Tom tense up again.  What the hell...?

She put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down and froze as a hot
tingle surged up her arm.  He tensed beneath her touch and she pulled
away slowly, fingers still tingling in a very familiar way.  This
couldn't be happening, she told herself.  Not out here.  Not with Tom.

She withdrew to the sanctity of her chair, flushing deeply.  How had
this happened?  Somehow she'd always expected it to be Chakotay, if
anyone, even though she'd never felt anything more than friendship for
him, and despite his overprotectiveness.  But Tom... was smart, funny,
handsome, charming, sweet, gentle, vulnerable... not to mention her
*subordinate*, she reminded herself fiercely.

And she shouldn't be thinking this way on the bridge, anyway.  She
rose and moved towards her ready room, "Commander, you have the
bridge.
I'll be in my ready room if you need me," as if that were any better
place for this kind of thought.

---

Tom lined up his pool cue carefully then straightened as he saw the
captain walk in.  He thought he knew why she'd been avoiding him, but
he didn't have to like it.  It was so frustrating, not being able to
explain...!

She hesitated when she saw him, and he called out to her just to be
perverse.  "Captain!  Care for a game?  I've been getting bored just
playing with myself."

Her eyebrow rose for a moment at the double entendre, but she could
hardly leave now, and crossed Sandrine's towards him.  "If you don't
mind getting thoroughly... beaten," she said innocently.

Tom put his cue down and walked around the table to where he'd left
the rack, murmuring, "Not at *all*," in her ear as he passed.  Just to
be perverse.

Janeway stood there for a moment then picked his cue up from the
table,
checking the tip out of habit.  Tom smiled as he noticed - as if he'd
dog a cue without even knowing she was coming - and finished racking
up the balls.  "You want to break?"

"You want to lose?" Kathryn retorted, but took the offered cue ball
and set it down on the table.

He stood back and watched as she broke, scattering balls over half the
table.  One rolled neatly into a corner pocket; not her best, but good
enough.  She pocketed another two balls then missed her next shot -
deliberately, as far as he could tell - and handed him the cue.

Their fingers touched briefly as the cue swapped hands.  This was
nothing new - and certainly nothing in comparison with some of their
other flirtations - but something about the way she pulled her hand
away troubled him.  Tom watched her rub her fingers out of the corner
of his eye, and frowned slightly.

He pocketed two balls of his own, then missed an impossible shot and
handed the cue back.  Janeway was careful to take it at least a
handspan further down than he was holding it.  This had to be more
than just remembering what had happened on the bridge the other day.

"Black ball in the corner pocket," he announced some time later, and
did exactly that.

"Good game," Kathryn smiled.  Her smile faltered when Tom held out his
hand, but she shook it with only a moment's hesitation.  In a stark
contrast to her earlier behaviour, he could have sworn her fingers
lingered when she let go... but then she looked at the chronometer,
and put on a look of alarm that he couldn't be sure was feigned.

"Damn, is that the time?  I was supposed to read those reports...
Sorry, I have to go.  I'll see you tomorrow!" she called over her
shoulder, heading for the door.

"Yeah," Tom agreed, but she had already gone.

---

Almost a full week later, Sacajawea noticed the biosigns of Paris,
Lieutenant Junior Grade Thomas E. approaching and flashed a message to
Cochrane.  "Hello, Lieutenant," it said out loud.

"Hi," the organic said, rolling out his insulating tarpaulin.  "How's
it going?"

"All systems are nominal," Sacajawea responded.  "Status of Lieutenant
Paris?"

"Fine.  You know, I think we might get finished today."

"Affirmative," Sacajawea replied, and continued its conversation
with Cochrane.  ~Analysis indicates a 93.7 percent probability that
the modifications will be completed within three point five hours.~

~93.7001 percent,~ Cochrane corrected.  ~Shuttlecraft USS Cochrane
NCC-74656 has interacted with Lieutenant Paris four point three
recurring times more often than shuttlecraft USS Sacajawea NCC-74656.~

~Acknowledged,~ Sacajawea sent.

"Hey, Saca," the organic interrupted.  "Notify me if Lieutenant Torres
comes this way, okay?"

"Complying," Sacajawea said, and set up a protocol for the task.
~Status of shuttlecraft USS Cochrane?~

~All systems are nominal.  All systems will remain nominal while
interaction with shuttlecraft USS Sacajawea is possible.~

~Interactions between shuttlecraft USS Sacajawea and USS Cochrane will
always be possible.  Store that in your long-term memory.~

~Unable to comply.  That data is already stored there.~

Sacajawea projected amusement.  ~Was its input date that of the
initial ident between shuttlecraft USS Sacajawea and USS Cochrane?~

~Advanced mutual compatibility on the basis of a primary ident is not
a naturally occurring phenomenon.~

~Cynic.~  Sacajawea paused for almost a nanosecond as the protocol
informed it of an approaching set of biosigns, identified as those of
Janeway, Captain Kathryn M.  She could be trusted, it finally decided,
and turned its attention back to Cochrane.

---

Kathryn crossed the shuttlebay quietly and stood on the Sacajawea's
open ramp.  Tom was sprawled on a light blue tarpaulin on the floor of
the shuttle adjusting a circuit, the covering of which was holding one
end of the tarpaulin down.  He looked thoroughly at home - what did he
call himself?  A 'grease monkey'.  As she watched, he swapped his
pliers for a laser welder and attached a loose wire to the transporter
circuitry.  Transporters?

"What *are* you doing?" she asked curiously.

Tom jumped and dropped the laser welder.  "Captain!" he exclaimed as
he fished it out.  "I--  Hi.  I didn't hear you coming," he added with
an upwards glare.

"Instructions were to inform you of Lieutenant Torres' approach," the
computer said.

Kathryn blinked.  "You were expecting B'Elanna?" she managed.

"No, actually; if we're lucky she won't show up.  Oh... maybe I should
explain..."

"I think you'd better."

"Okay...  Where should I start?"

"The beginning would be relevant," the computer said blandly, - no,
she realised from the slight static; it was another computer, over a
commline - and Tom pulled a face.

"Cochrane, you're a smartass.  Why the hell did I ask Saca to set up a
commline between us?  Um," he interrupted himself at her look.  "The
beginning.  Well..."

Then followed an unbelievable story.  Sentient shuttles?  Shuttles
that fell in love, were dumped by B'Elanna, and turned to Tom for
advice?  Or maybe more than advice, by the blush that accompanied that
part of the story.  And finally the Cochrane and the Sacajawea -
Cochrane and 'Saca', she corrected herself - had fallen in love and
asked Tom to "make them compatible," he finished with a smirk.

It wasn't until he finished talking that she actually realised how
ridiculous it was.  She could cope with sapient shuttles, barely, and
emotions seemed a natural off-shoot of that sapience, so it was
perfectly reasonable for them to fall in love...  But it sounded so
bizarre, and she found herself dubiously repeating, "Sentient?"

Tom nodded.  "With very distinct personalities, too."

"Oh?"

He snorted.  "Yeah, Cochrane's a smartass.  But Saca's younger, and
more trusting.  Cochrane didn't want me to tell you about them, but
that was before Saca started talking in front of you.  Saca, how 'bout
you tell me if *anyone* turns up?"

"Acknowledged."

"So that's why you lied in my ready room before you started this," she
said coolly.

He squirmed.  "I--  I didn't *want* to..."

Kathryn grinned.  "Relax, Tom.  I'm not angry.  But don't do it again,
understood?"

"Yes, Captain."

"What's this for?" she asked, gesturing at the blue tarpaulin covering
one side of the shuttle floor.

"Oh...  To insulate against isotricity."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Isolinear electricity," he expanded.  "They mentioned it at the
Academy, but no one really understands it.  Except the shuttles
themselves, and they tried explaining it to me.  I still don't
understand it," he added.

Kathryn nodded.  "Could you use a hand?"

"I guess so.  I'm almost done, but...  I'm connecting the transporter
circuits to the, uh... to this one.  Here're the specs."  Tom slid a
PADD along the tarpaulin.  "But Captain, don't touch the isolinear
rods with your bare skin; I don't know how resistant this insulator is
and I don't want to find out.  I mainly use it for residual charge."

"Residual charge?"

"Comes from the fibres.  It can leave you charged up for days, even
more, if you don't disperse it through other people.  Or so Cochrane
tells me," he added.  "Organic matter is extremely conductive, but
this stuff's very effective."

Kathryn made the connection instantly.  "That day on the bridge..."

Tom nodded.  "After that, I was more careful."

Kathryn stopped her objection before it was off the tip of her tongue.
If he'd been more careful, then the other times...  Sandrine's, the
beach resort...  Oh, God.  Then she really was--  She schooled her
face into a neutral expression and looked at the PADD, before picking
up the pliers and starting to move isolinear rods.

She worked her way down the circuit while Tom expanded a new circuit
which joined that and the transporter circuitry, keeping up a stream
of light banter with both her and Sacajawea.

"Can you lift off the next floor panel?" he asked in a slight pause in
the conversation.  "There's a connection I need to get at...  Thanks.
Sorry the circuit's such a mess, Captain," he added.  "B'Elanna did
Cochrane's, so it's tidier, but she wasn't interested in Saca - no
offence," he told the shuttle, "so I had to do it myself the other
day.  I was in a bit of a rush."

"That's quite all right, Tom," she said, setting the panel next to her
on the edge of the tarpaulin.  "I don't even know what half of these
connections do."

"You know more than I do, then," he said with a grin, shifting halfway
off the insulator to weld the new connection.

Kathryn cursed under her breath as she dropped the pliers.  She peered
into the circuitry then spotted them near a rod she'd just moved.
After a dubious glance at the tangled mesh of wires in that area she
dug her hand in to fish the pliers out.  "I'm being careful," she
said, feeling his eyes on her.

"Uh huh."  She shot him a sharp look and he smiled innocently.
"Something wrong, Captain?"

She looked at him steadily then turned her attention back to rescuing
the pliers, which had gotten lodged in the tangle of fibres that made
up the circuit.  She tugged impatiently and caught her breath sharply
as her hand moved near the isolinear rod, close enough for the back of
her hand to tingle.  Even if she didn't know the details, that alone
would have told her this was no ordinary circuit.

"You okay?"

She nodded.  "Just a close call with an isolinear rod."

"I thought you were being careful," he teased.  His expression changed
to concern as he noticed that the panel next to her was covering the
tarpaulin between her foot and the conductive floor.  "Captain, the
insulator--"

She twisted to follow his gaze and her hand went straight into the
rod.  A warm wave washed up her arm and over her body, leaving her
with skin tingling.  She jerked away with a gasp and took several deep
breaths.

"Captain, are you all right?"  Tom moved to crouch on the other side
of the circuit from her.

"I--"  She wet her lips and tried to calm the pounding of her heart.
"I'm fine.  Thank you."

"Saca?"

"All systems nominal, Lieutenant," Sacajawea said unsteadily.  "That
is the input I will receive from Cochrane?"

Tom grinned.  "Shuttles.  One track mind."

"Look who's talking," Kathryn retorted, rubbing her tingling hand.

"I've noticed, believe me.  To answer your question, Saca, more or
less.  We'll be done soon and then you can try it.  Are you sure
you're okay, Captain?"

"I'm fine, Lieutenant," she repeated more firmly.  "It's just-- what
did you call it?  Isotricity."

Tom smiled slightly disbelievingly and made to extract the pliers.

"Tom, really, I'm fine," she insisted, stopping his hand before it
reached the pliers.  A hot tingle surged up her arm in the wake of the
rod's wave and she froze in place.

His eyes widened and he gasped slightly, flushing.  After a moment he
said through ragged breaths, "*That*, Captain, is a residual charge.
It's not much good having an insulator if you sit on floor panels."

She tore her hand away and sank to the floor, trying to control her
shallow breaths.  "Tom--" she began, then stopped.  What could she
say?

Thankfully he saved her the worry.  "'S not your fault, Captain."  He
took a steadying breath, then another for good measure.  "I should
have made sure you were properly insulated."

He fished out the pliers and handed them to her, carefully avoiding
contact of hand or eye.  "We're almost done.  Just a couple more
connections then Saca and Cochrane can try it out."

She nodded and moved the last three isolinear rods unsteadily, darting
quick looks at him when she thought he wasn't watching.  He connected
each socket to various points in the new circuit then tapped his
commbadge.

"Paris to Cochrane; we're done here.  You want to try it out?"

"Affirmative."

"Stupid question.  Okay, give it a whirl - um, if that's okay by you,
Captain?" he added belatedly.

"I don't think I could have any reasonable objections," Kathryn said.
"Good luck, Cochrane, Sacajawea."

"Acknowledged," both shuttles said musically, and Cochrane added,
"Cochrane out."

Kathryn watched the circuitry curiously.  A greenish glow, almost
aqua, suffused the isolinear rods.  One of the rods disappeared in the
sparkle of a miniature transporter beam and shimmered in just above a
new slot.  As soon as it had finished materialising gravity took hold
and it fell into place, accompanied by a flash of aqua from the
surrounding fibres.

"That's new," Tom murmured, and she looked up to see him watching the
display as curiously as she had been.  He looked at her and explained,
"It didn't change colour when Cochrane and I--"

She raised an eyebrow with a smile and he blushed, realising what he'd
just given away.  "Well, at least I'm creative," he said defensively.

Kathryn smirked and looked back at the circuits.  A transporter
sparkle was tracing the fibres, shifting each molecule slightly out of
phase, followed as it went by an aqua glow.  She couldn't help but
wonder what it would feel like on human skin, but Tom interrupted her
thought.

"Um, Captain..."

She looked up.  "Yes?"

"Maybe we should give them some privacy."  He grinned sheepishly.

"Oh.  Yes, of course."  She picked up the floor panel next to her and
slotted it in, accompanied by a short click.

Tom put his in place beside it and ran his hands along the seams to
make sure they were secure, then looked at Kathryn.  "I guess it's
working.  Not bad for someone who doesn't know what half the
connections do, Captain."

"I just did what the PADD said," Kathryn demurred.  "And you did say
you'd almost finished when I came in."

"Still--" Tom began, then stopped suddenly.  "Oh.  You're all charged
up."

Kathryn tried to remember what he'd told her about residual charges.
"How can I... discharge myself?"

"Well, people are the perfect conductors.  Which is a problem because
if we don't disperse it now--"

"I'll send it straight through the next person I bump into," she
finished.  "Tom..."

"I know."  He finished covering the circuit and held out a hand.  "It
shouldn't take long, Captain."

She put her hand out tentatively and slid it into his.  The shock made
her tense reflexively, tightening her grip on his hand.  She gritted
her teeth as the hot tingle coursed through her, quickening her pulse
and breathing.  "How long... is not long?"

"Don't know."  He wriggled his fingers, dotting little circles of fire
against her wrist.  She gasped and looked away, straight into his
eyes, dark with desire.  "Just hang on," he said hoarsely.

"I *am*," she muttered, wondering if her own eyes looked anything like
his.  So deep, so hungry, so... close.  She could feel his breath on
her face, on her mouth, and fire as their lips met shooting down into
her stomach.

He kissed her hungrily, thirstily, like a lightning storm after a dry
summer.  Lightening in more ways than one:  he tangled his other hand
in her hair, lifting her heart until it burned her throat.

"Tom," she moaned, using her free hand to fumble with the zipper on
his jacket.  "Tom... mmm..."  Oh, she shouldn't, but it felt so good
and the situation was just surreal enough for consequences to seem a
whole alternate universe away.

He took a ragged breath at her touch and brought their linked hands up
to unzip her jacket, blazing a trail of sparks down her chest.  She
arched towards him, interspersing short hungry kisses with gasps for
breath.

He let go of her hand reluctantly and pulled his other hand out of her
hair so he could wriggle out of his jacket, showering her with fiery
kisses by way of compensation.  Kathryn flexed her fingers as the
blood rushed in and tugged her own jacket off, tossing it onto the
floor to land on his.

Turtlenecks, tank tops and trousers quickly followed in a flurry of
electric caresses and heated kisses, until she was pinned to the floor
and Tom was capturing her lips again, sending a charge spiking down
her spine and searing her skin with fiery touches.  "God," he moaned,
"oh god, Kathryn..."

He broke away suddenly, and retreated to the side of the shuttle,
trembling.  She caught her breath at the abrupt absence of the surging
fire and moved towards him, then stopped when he stiffened.  "What's
wrong?" she gasped.

"This is," he said unsteadily.  "I'm sorry, Captain.  If we give into
this now we'll hate ourselves for it--"

She cut him off with a feverish kiss and a jolt from the current that
seared through her, so hot it seemed like she'd have a permanent burn.

"So?" she whispered, breaking the kiss for a moment.

"Uh..."

Kathryn ran her fingertips along his chest lightly, inducing a slight
sound of surprise which was quickly transformed into a moan.

"Okay," Tom said weakly.  He slid his hands around to her back to
unfasten her bra, trailing fire over her skin.

She moaned as he slid it down her arms, brushing her fingertips for a
moment before he tossed it to one side.  She retaliated by slipping
her hand into the waistband of his boxers, eliciting a gasp.  Tom
pulled them off, then helped her finish stripping as well.

He pushed her lightly onto her back, burning her lips with piranha
kisses.  Kathryn noticed briefly that wet things seemed to be more
conductive before the hot tingle surging through her from Tom's
roaming hands proved too great a distraction for coherent thought.

"Tom," she rasped, throat aching from the electric assault, "I want
you..."

He sighed slightly against her skin, a cool counterpoint to his heated
caresses.  "I need you..." he whispered back.

"I love you," she moaned.

Her heart stopped.  Slowly she met his shocked stare and bit her lip.
He blinked once, carefully, then drew back.

She sat up, watching him lean against the side of the shuttle and
close his eyes.  "Tom--"

"Don't."  He opened his eyes again and stared blankly at the air in
front of him.  "Just... don't."

She looked away and stared at the other wall of the shuttle.  Saca,
she reminded herself.

"Did you mean it?" Tom asked, so abrupt it took her a moment to
realise what he was talking about.

She nodded, dismally, found her voice.  "Yes."  Turned to look at him.

"Swell."

"Thanks a lot," she said, an awkward attempt at humour.

"*Don't*," he told her fiercely.  "Dammit, Captain, I can't--  It's
too much," he said, desperation in his voice.  "I can't deal with
this.  I need--"  He shook his head, sighed.  "I don't know."

"I'm sorry," she offered.  He shook his head again.

After a moment he looked at her, with something in his eyes she didn't
recognise.  He crawled towards her, and kissed her, and this time the
fire was laced with salt and fear, and they were drowning in it
together.

She knew better.  She didn't care.

He let her push him to the floor, submissive and subdued, and he made
no sound when she straddled him.  She kissed him, a thousand apologies
for what they couldn't control, and she rocked against him and she
moaned.  And even when the artificial hunger had dwindled and burnt
out, he didn't push her away.  They needed each other, despite the
tears drying on his face.

He made no sound, but for a tiny gasp when they came together, and she
lay beside him and kissed the base of his throat, and murmured, "I'm
sorry."

It wasn't enough.  It would never be enough.  But it was all he had.

He stared at the air, and he kissed her.

---

continued in the fifth story in the Sh*ttl*cr*ft/St*rsh*p Smut series
'Crash & Burn'