The BLTS Archive - Love and Copulation
ninth in the Twist of Fate series
by Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com)

---

Author's Notes:  Previous stories from the Twist of Fate storyline (in
order):  Blessings of the Sky Spirits, Wyrd, What Comes Naturally,
Fresh Perspective, Culinary Delights, Chaos Theory, Unforeseen
Circumstance and A Matter of Definition.

Acknowledgements:  As always Paramount owns all the marbles, we just
have a lot more fun playing with them.

Feedback is always appreciated.

---

"Why are we not yet copulating?"

Harry Kim barely managed to avoid spitting his breakfast all over his
tray, already hearing Tom and B'Elanna snickering across the table.
Praying that he hadn't actually heard that right, he looked up at the
beautiful, blonde ex-Borg whom he'd been dating for some time.  Seven
had declined to have breakfast with him, citing duties that needed her
attention; now she stood beside him.  "What?"

Seven repeated her question, louder.  "Why are we not yet
copulating?"

Snickers turned to outright laughter as Harry turned beet red and
hastily stood, grabbing  her hand.  "Outside," he muttered.

Across the mess hall, Sassy was having breakfast with Chakotay and
Kathryn.  Once Harry had dragged a confused Seven from the room, she
turned back to them, arching an eyebrow over her cup of coffee.
"Don't they teach the birds and the bees at Starfleet?"

"I haven't heard you complaining," Chakotay retorted to his wife with
a grin.

Janeway sighed, shaking her head.  "This is more than I ever wanted
to know about my officers' private lives."

Outside in the corridor, Harry pulled Seven around and backed her up
against the wall.  Weeks of kisses full of unfulfilled promise and
innocent dates had made him perpetually frustrated.  For all her
intelligence, Seven was emotionally naive and he had been trying to
help her understand the feelings that went with relationships.  They
had so much in common, he could easily see a future for them but not
if he rushed things beyond her emotional comprehension.  Not sure how
to handle her question, he captured her mouth in a deep, demanding
kiss. Those full lips yielded easily to the firm pressure of his own
lips and parted obediently to the probing of his tongue.  It never
failed to humble him how very vulnerable she was beneath her
Vulcanesque exterior.  His body, already hard and throbbing, rocked
against hers in a simulation of the subject of her earlier question,
the very answer that he couldn't put into words.

A familiar spark flared in her abdomen when Harry's tongue slipped
into the moist warmth of her mouth.  Pressed against the wall of the
corridor, her breasts were crushed by the hard expanse of his chest.
This activity was eminently pleasant every time he initiated it.  The
muscular tone of his body surrounding her interfered with her
cognition and yet left her feeling quite satisfied.  His face appeared
so tender when he looked at her, not that she could see his expression
at this particular instance.  The intense sensations that circulated
through her when their bodies connected always seemed to cause a
heaviness in her eyelid region that alleviated only when she permitted
them to close, even if that act did increase the sensations
themselves.  Her arms encircled his neck, pulling him closer.  Weeks
of these kisses without anything further happening had created a
concern that perhaps Harry didn't wish to pursue a further
relationship.  For this moment, feeling the hard bulge of his hips
against her and his tongue dancing with hers, she felt less uncertain
about the situation than she had on her way to the mess hall that
morning.

His body was ready to explode when he finally broke the kiss,  his
lungs clamoring for air and every other part of him clamoring for her.
"Copulating is not the goal of a relationship,"  Harry whispered, his
forehead resting lightly against hers.

Seven was confused and his nearness, his touch and his scent were
continuing to cause a significant amount of interference in her
cognitive processors.  "Human relationships occur for the purpose of
procreation.  My research clearly indicates the act of copulation
occurring frequently in intimate relationships."

Groaning softly at that image, he tried to rein in his frustrated
needs.  "There's more to it than that, you're not supposed to
copulate--make love--until you're sure of how you feel about the other
person."

"And you are not sure of your feelings for me?"  If this is what it
meant to be in a relationship, she wasn't sure she wanted to continue.

Harry tipped her face up for another long, passionate kiss.  Tracing
her swollen lips with his finger, he murmured, "I've been sure of my
feelings for you since the first time I saw you."

"Then why . . .?"

"I've been waiting for you."  He combed his fingers through her soft,
flaxen tresses.  She had taken to wearing her hair down which she knew
pleased him.  "I wanted to give you time to figure out how you felt
about me."

Seven tried to catalog her emotions toward him.  "I anticipate
spending time with you,"  she began.  "I think of you an average of
seventeen point four times in the course of my duty shifts which--"

Covering her mouth gently with his fingers, he had only one question.
"Do you love me?"

"Yes, based on my research the feelings that I experience toward you
would be categorized as love,"  she acknowledged.

Harry closed his eyes and pulled her tighter against him, his hands
around her waist.  Her body pressed into his, his uniform unbearably
tight, he savored the words that he'd wanted to hear for so long.  "I
love you, too," he replied finally.  He sighed deeply, "this is not a
conversation you should have with a guy fifteen minutes before he has
to go on duty, though."

She tensed, "I apologize--"

"Don't ever apologize for telling me how you feel," he admonished.
"I just meant that this uniform is going to be pretty uncomfortable
today."

She could feel a bulging hardness pressed against her and understood
his reference.  "We have fifteen minutes, would that not be sufficient
time?"

"Not by half," Harry sighed.  He searched her face.  "Have dinner
with me tonight, 1800 hours?  And wear something a little easier for
me to get you out of."  The last comment was said with a wink and a
smile.

His smile always did strange things to her stomach but this time the
sensation was lower.  Returning his smile, she nodded, "I will
comply."

This was definitely going to be a long day, Harry decided.  Unwilling
to end this interlude, he asked.  "Are you on your way to
Astrometrics?"

"No, I am not on duty today.  I am due in Sickbay."

Concern flooded him.  "Are you all right?"

Seven was suddenly uncomfortable.  How would he react to her
cybernetic components?  Their previous interaction had been under the
influence of a potent aphrodisiac; but now, in normal circumstances,
would his feelings be altered?  "I am fine, my . . . Borg components
require routine diagnostics and maintenance."

Relieved that it was just a check-up, he traced her ocular implant.
"Can I walk you to Sickbay?  I definitely want you in perfect health
for our dinner tonight."

His voice didn't change, nor did the dilation of his pupils, she
noted with satisfaction.  "That would be pleasing."  With his hand
clasping hers, warmth spread through her body as they walked down the
corridor together.  Suddenly she realized something.  "You are not
supposed to discuss copulation in public."

"No, "  Harry acknowledged.  "That is usually a private matter."

She stopped.  "I have erred, I should return and apologize."

"No!"  He gripped her hand tighter.  "You absolutely should not."
The humor of her suggestion struck him and he began chuckling.
"Everyone knows that we're dating and that was a little more
information than I'd prefer they have, but no harm was done."

"I shall endeavor to be more discrete in the future."  He wasn't mad
at her, that was all that mattered.

"Just don't ever stop being honest with me, okay?"  She was so
unbelievably precious and she was in love with him.  Life was perfect,
Harry decided as they continued on.

---

Harry checked the chronometer for the hundredth time as he wiped his
sweaty palms on his pants.  Fortunately it had been a quiet shift on
the bridge because he'd been preoccupied with the details of this
evening all day.  It had to be special, but not too fancy or detailed.
A simple, romantic, candlelight dinner in his quarters--just like
their first date, would be perfect and reassuringly familiar.  He'd
shed his uniform in favor of a loose white shirt tucked into a snug
pair of black denim pants.  Knowing Seven's penchant for promptness,
he lit the candles and began the music at precisely 17:59.  One minute
later, the door chime sounded.  "Come."

Seven smoothed her hands down the simple, blue sheath dress that she
had decided on for the evening.  During her relationship with Harry,
she had learned the impact of appearances.  While his brown eyes
always made her feel special, his pupils dilated an extra .15
millimeters when she wore a softly-colored, flowing dress with her
hair down.  She stepped almost hesitantly through the doorway when it
slid open.  Nervousness was irrelevant to the situation, yet it was
there nonetheless.

"You look beautiful," Harry muttered.  He met her just inside the
door and gently brushed his lips across hers.  This night would last
as long as humanly possible.

Leaning into his kiss, her hands braced against his chest she
realized that the fabric of his shirt was thinner than the uniform
fabric.  She could feel the heat and smooth texture of his skin
through the material.  "There is only a single clasp to this dress, as
requested," she informed him.  "It is--"

"Whoa, slow down," he interrupted, his finger tracing the lush
outline of her lips softening his words.  "We've got all night and
getting there is half the fun."

Seven obediently followed him to the table, smiling gratefully as he
held her chair for her.  Their dinner was a light fare of steamed
vegetables and breadsticks; there was something oddly disquieting
about the way Harry's white teeth bit into a piece of broccoli.  She
found herself unable to tear her gaze away from him throughout the
meal.  With every bite, her blood flow increased until, by the time
they were finished, her body was throbbing forcefully.  When he lifted
his napkin to wipe his mouth, she reacted in a manner that surprised
both of them. Swiftly, she reached out to halt his hand and moved
around the table to lean over him.  Holding his head steady with her
hands, she flicked her tongue out and licked his face clean.  She slid
onto his lap to achieve a more efficient position in which to continue
and her tongue slipped between his lips in an effort to be thorough.
Searching every millimeter of his mouth was immensely pleasing and she
found herself pressing closer to the hard warmth of his chest as she
sucked his tongue into her mouth, recalling that he commonly did that
with her tongue during their kisses.

If he didn't know better, he'd swear Seven had been deliberately
trying to drive him insane during dinner.  She hadn't taken her eyes
off him the whole time and watching her envelope those breadsticks
with her luscious lips and bite into them had been maddening.  Now,
she was licking his face and her tongue was in his mouth with her body
pressing against him.  This was really pushing the limits of his
endurance.  When she pulled his tongue back into her mouth, he broke
the kiss.  "Okay, so much for dinner," Harry set her on her feet and
stood.  "Let's dance."

"Dance?  I thought we were going to--"

His kiss cut her off.  "Relax, Seven, this is a much more pleasant
when you take your time."

Seven stiffened, that line ringing in her ears.  A second later she
recalled where she'd heard it.

"Seven?  Are you all right?" Harry saw her expression change but
didn't know what it meant.

"I am fine, I simply recalled you saying that exact line before," she
glided into his arms and they began dancing to the soft music.

Settling into an easy rhythm with the beautiful woman in his arms, he
thought back over their brief relationship.  He couldn't recall such a
conversation before.  "I did?  When?"

"It wasn't really you," she explained.  "It was merely a dream."  Her
head rested on the broad slope of his shoulder as they swayed to the
music.  As always, he smelled quite masculine.

A powerful spark shot through Harry's body.  "You had a dream about
me?"

"Perhaps this is another subject that shouldn't be discussed with
anyone, a personal matter," Seven speculated aloud.

"Well," he began, his hand caressing the length of her back.  "When
you're in love with someone, you should be able to tell them
anything."

Judging from the reaction of his body, the thought of her dreaming
about him was exciting, so she told him.  "Prior to our interaction in
Sickbay and the inception of our social interaction, I experienced a
dream involving you."

"What kind of dream?" his arms tightened around her.

"It was a dream of an erotic nature, I believe the appropriate term
would be 'wet dream'."

Harry couldn't even articulate a response to that statement.  His
arms tightened around her and he groaned softly.

Physically frustrated with the leisurely pace Harry had been taking
things at, Seven analyzed his reaction and determined that the pace of
the evening might speed up significantly if she provided him with
extensive details of her dream.  Snuggling closer, she began
describing the dream as vividly as possible, occasionally punctuating
the story by scraping her fingernail up his spine.

With her soft voice weaving a vivid, erotic picture in his ear, his
hands slowly stroked down her body to cup her hips.  His mouth watered
at the image of him suckling her breasts.  His fingers began bunching
the fabric of her skirt, pulling it up so that his hands could caress
the soft skin of her thighs.  He whimpered loudly, interrupting her,
when he discovered that she wasn't wearing underwear.  "God, Seven."

"If you're referring to the lack of undergarments, they seemed
unnecessary given the objective of our evening."  If she had known
that knowledge would have such an effect, she would have brought that
fact to his attention earlier.  "You did request that I wear something
easy for you to remove.  As I tried to point out earlier, there is
only a single clasp that will remove all of my clothing."

There wasn't enough oxygen in the room.  "You mean," Harry whispered
hoarsely.  "If I hold this," his fingers found the clasp at her hip,
"and pull it like so."  The fabric fell to the floor, leaving her clad
only in those impossibly high heels she replicated in every style of
footwear she wore.  Then he noticed that the shoes weren't all she was
wearing under the dress; just above her right knee was the garter he'd
caught at Commander Chakotay's wedding reception and asked her to hold
for him.

Noticing the direction of his gaze, she spoke up.  "I was uncertain
of the use of the garter, but it seemed significant to wear tonight."

Harry swept her into his arms, his lips claiming hers as he carried
her to the bed.  Gently laying her down, he sat down beside her and
lingeringly removed her shoes.  "It's perfect, you're perfect."  He
stood up beside the bed and took a deep breath, removing his clothes
slowly, trying to get his desires under control.  One by one his
shaking hands opened the buttons on his shirt down to the waistband of
his pants.  Unbuckling his belt, he pulled the shirt free.  Seven had
risen to her knees on the bed and slipped her hands under the shirt,
guiding it off his shoulders.  At her tentative touch, he shuddered
uncontrollably.

"I am sorry," Seven whispered, misinterpreting his reaction.  His
smooth, tanned chest had been so inviting, drawing her to caress the
warm expanse.  "I do not know precisely what is expected of me in this
situation; the database was not clear."

He caught her hands as she drew them back, reminding himself that of
the two, he was infinitely more experienced.  Gently, he kissed each
palm and laid them against his chest, covering them with his own
larger hands.  His voice was soft and low, "No expectations, no
objectives, no responsibilities; just us.  Tonight is about physically
demonstrating our feelings, nothing more, nothing less," as he spoke
his mouth nibbled along one delicate collarbone.  Where her shoulder
and neck joined, he paused to nuzzle the warm skin.

Her skin had increased in sensitivity at some point, the slight
movement of air in the room sent chills over her.  Her body moved
closer to Harry's, seeking the heat from his tight, muscled body.  The
point on her shoulder where his mouth was latched onto her seemed to
be connected to her lungs, causing her breathing to increase
significantly.  Her breasts felt enlarged, arching toward the broad
chest in front of her; if only she could press them into that chest it
might alleviate the aching.  A little frightened at the intensity of
the sensations and the feelings of helplessness it evoked, she
struggled for focus.  "Perhaps some experimentation would be
permissible?"

"You can do whatever your heart desires, sweetheart," Harry murmured,
his hands busily delighting in the contrast of her satiny, soft skin
over taut, firm curves.  He gasped then moaned as her hands
efficiently freed his straining length from his pants and grasped him.
Her fingers trailed over every square millimeter, the light caress a
sweet torment. In spite of his best efforts to hold himself still for
her, his hips began thrusting into her palms, seeking release.  When
she began varying the pressure and movements of her hands, he
understood the earlier reference to experimentation.   Pulling away,
he kicked off his shoes and shed his remaining clothing.  Breathing
hard, he joined her on the bed, stretching them both out in a more
comfortable position.  Propped on one elbow facing her, he tenderly
brushed a lock of hair out of her face.  "I am yours to command, my
love."

Her heart rate was too excessive, that must be the cause of the
pulsating sensation between her legs.  Shifting closer, she lowered
her face to his and brushed her lips across the firm contours of his
mouth. Her fingers entwined in his hair, tilting his head up.  Waiting
until his eyes opened to focus on hers, she plunged her tongue into
his mouth, measuring the dilation of his pupils as she stroked and
explored the surfaces inside his mouth.  His brown eyes  turned almost
black as she watched his reactions.  She broke the kiss and began
tasting his bronze skin down the length of his throat, across his
massive chest, finding a dark, rock-hard nipple.  Flicking it with her
tongue elicited a gasp from Harry; when she took it between her teeth,
sucking it as he had hers in her dream, he whimpered and entwined his
large hand in her hair, holding her closer.  His chest was heaving
against her, evidence of his labored breathing.  Without releasing the
nipple, her fingernail trailed down his body and located his hard,
throbbing length.  His body was covered in a sheet of sweat when he
took her hand away and rolled her onto her back, pressing her into the
mattress.  His eyes were still dark as they looked down at her.
"Harry," she whispered.  "I am nervous, I do not fear copulating but I
find myself apprehensive nonetheless."

It had taken all of his willpower to allow her leisurely exploration
of his body, but hearing her tentative confession sapped him of any
urgency.  He gently nudged her creamy thighs apart and settled himself
between them.  Burying his hands in her silky, blond tresses, he
leaned down to capture her lips in a deep, lingering kiss until he
felt the tension melt away.  "Do you want me to stop?"

He was so close, his body barely brushing the epicenter of her
throbbing.  Briefly considering her options, she found the possibility
of ceasing this activity to be unacceptable.  "No," her response was
barely audible and for a second she was afraid that he hadn't heard.

"Then just relax and trust me, let me show you how wonderful we are
together."

His mouth seemed to be everywhere, leaving a hot line of kisses down
the column of her neck.  Her fingers grasped handfuls of his thick,
dark hair and pulled him closer, guiding his mouth to her breasts.
Her gasps turned to whimpers as electric sparks shot through her body,
his teeth pulling almost painfully at a taut peak.  The throbbing
sensation increased exponentially as he nipped and teased first one
breast then the other.  His hands seemed to burn her skin, stroking
and caressing her before sliding between their bodies and invading her
wet, pulsating orifice.  Nerves were forgotten in the rush of desire
and need that his mouth and hands ignited in her.  Speech seemed to
require too much energy to attempt, her pleas taking the form of
wordless whimpers and moans.  She was unsure of exactly what she was
pleading for, but somehow she knew that Harry would make everything
perfect.

Only when he was sure she was aroused beyond any rational thought did
he allow his hands to cup her hips, holding her steady as he carefully
eased into her.  It was as tight and hot as he remembered and he
breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that at least it wasn't her
first experience with physical intimacy.  Briefly he wondered if their
interlude in Sickbay had been her first time; making a note to ask her
later, he began a slow, steady thrusting.  There was an implant near
her navel, the cool metal an erotic contrast to the heat of her body.
Her breasts rubbed against his chest with each movement into her body,
an incredible massaging sensation punctuated with streaks of fire as
hardened nipples grazed one another.  Their bodies fit together so
perfectly, stimulating nerve endings all over his body and heightening
his arousal.  Soft sounds of pleasure in his ear spurred him to a
faster pace,  her body tightening around him, molding instinctively to
him. His own needs were overriding his concern for her, his body
screaming for release.

The intensity was overwhelming her, consciousness falling away in a
chaotic swirl of pleasure.  "Please . . . Harry . . . this is . . .
too extreme.  I . . . can't."

Without losing stride, Harry found her lips, quieting her fears in a
silent, soothing caress.  Her body was tense, her arms and legs
clasping frantically at him.  "Shh . . . it's all right.  Let it
happen . . . I'm right here.  Just let it happen," he panted into her
mouth.

His voice was a comfort, an anchor that she held onto in the sea of
pleasure consuming her.  Suddenly, an intense bolt of fire exploded in
her body.  Strangely, at that instant she wondered if her implants had
malfunctioned before realizing that she had experienced an eminently
satisfying orgasm.  Harry's mouth was still on hers, his body
continuing to thrust into her as well.  She tightened her legs around
his hips, enjoying the heat and fullness of the motions of his body.
She knew the millisecond before he ejaculated, feeling the muscles in
his body tense fractionally followed by a hot stream filling her.  His
weight collapsed onto her, a delicious feeling of being utterly safe
and cherished.  So this was the experience of physical intimacy with
one whom you shared feelings with.  Her earlier feelings of
apprehension seemed ridiculous in the pleasant euphoria of the moment.
This was definitely an activity she would like to engage in frequently
with Harry.

"Are you all right?"  After several minutes, although his breathing
had slowed, he was in no hurry to move.

Seven tightened herself around the length of his body still inside
her.  "I am perfect.  You?"

Harry gave a rueful chuckle.  "I'd say I was on cloud nine, but given
my current position..."

Recognizing his attempt at humor, she replied lightly.  "If you would
prefer to be with a nine, or perhaps a four, six, or other numerical
value, I could--"

Harry silenced her with a long, deep kiss.  "How about seventh
heaven, lucky number seven, seven is a magic number, seven degrees of
freedom..."

"I am not familiar with that last colloquialism."

His fingers mindlessly roamed over her sweat-dampened skin, "Okay,
you caught me; I ran out of seven references."

The movements of his hand along her body was causing a definite
resurgence of arousal; Seven shifted her legs up around his hips.
"Perhaps you should reflect on the properties of the number seven more
deeply," she suggested, helpfully.

Feeling himself harden inside her, Harry moved his hips forward.
"Like this?"

"Precisely," she gasped.

---

continued in the tenth story in the Twist of Fate series  'Million Kilometer Club'