The BLTS Archive- Ships in the Night
by Mnemosyne (memoryvixen@yahoo.com)

---

DISCLAIMER: Let's just say, if they were mine, this would
have happened AGES ago. 

NOTES: Okay, everyone, I've tried tackling other categories
(foof, angst, and comedy), so it was only natural I try my
hand at NC-17 eventually, right? *giggle* I've written this
in other fandoms, but never for "Enterprise," so please take
it easy on me this time around. I'll try not to disappoint!

MUSE-IC: Enigma (especially "Beyond the Invisible")

---

The Ak'Sul Bazaar had come again to Suidin, and the entire
city had emptied out to buy and trade for goods from all
four corners of the Great Continent, and even some from the
Lesser Islands. Spice hung in the moist evening air, rising
on the gentle breeze like exotic alien perfume. Paper
lanterns flickered in the narrow cobbled streets,
illuminating the wood and canvas awnings of hundreds of open
air stands, whose vendors were - even at this late hour -
plying their wares as though it were high daylight. They had
no shortage of customers; people kept coming, clogging the
streets and bartering with an ease that comes from
generations of practice. Narrow buildings - none of them
taller than three stories - reared up on either side of the
street, sheltering buyers and sellers alike from the cool,
freshening breezes of an approaching rain shower.

Malcolm Reed, armory officer of the starship Enterprise ,
watched the activity from his third story room in the Ar'Lei
Zerta - or, as Hoshi had put it, the pre-industrial Ritz
Carlton. He liked the room; the bed was comfortable, the
decor was warm and inviting, and the windows closed tightly.
He also had a good view of much of the street below, which
they had determined from space was the main artery of the
entire city. Malcolm was never a man to deny the importance
of three or four good escape routes.

The Su'eel were a handsome race; extremely similar to
humans, but for some subtle variations. Their irises all
held an unusual opalescent quality, like the surface of a
soap bubble, that changed with the angle of the light. Their
skin was flecked with a shimmery substance, much like mica,
which made them sparkle like muted starlight in the
illumination cast by the paper lanterns down below. Most -
with the exception of small children - had decorative
designs tattooed in blue ink on their faces, regardless of
skin tone. The patterns weren't uniform, and seemed to vary
by personality. Earlier that day, Malcolm had seen one woman
with an enormous spiral that covered one cheek, starting at
the outer corner of her eye and circling ever in on itself,
until it was dizzying to watch. He was thankful Phlox had
used only semi-permanent dye for the away team's tattoos,
and that his own designs were relatively small and simple.
All the froo froo about the eyes and skin had been enough
for him, frankly. He still wasn't used to seeing himself
sparkle.

Currently, his opal-eyed attention was focused on the hustle
and bustle in the street below; or, more accurately, on one
corner of hustle that had a familiar bustle to it. Trip -
dressed in the traditional male garb of loose pantaloons,
gathered at the waist and ankles, and a tapestry vest - was
haggling with a vendor over the price of something that
looked like a mix between an apple and a pomegranate. Either
the UT had stopped working or the merchant was a hard sell,
because the debate didn't seem to be getting anywhere fast.
Malcolm couldn't resist a chuckle as he leaned in the window
and watched. "It's in your best interest to give in, chap,"
he murmured, watching the trader wave his hands in a No!
gesture. "Trip's not going to give up till he's got your
appagranate thing, and he can be bloody hard-headed when it
comes to things like that."

He laughed again, then let his eye wander down the street in
search of other crewmembers. T'Pol, he knew, was in her own
room down the hall, meditating quietly away from the busy
crowd, but Mayweather was out there somewhere; probably
blushing wildly under the goggle-eyed awe of some of the
local ladies. Then..

...There was Hoshi. Like the petals of a flower, the crowd
suddenly opened out, and he could see her. An elderly Su'eel
was trying to sell her something resembling a marionette,
which he was dancing around for her amusement. Hoshi was
clapping her hands and beaming, obviously smitten with the
little wooden figure. Like Trip, she wore traditional
clothes, which for females included the same long, loose
pantaloons the men preferred, though the cut was slimmer and
fit more snugly around the hips. Her top, unlike Trip's
vest, was made of a single long piece of chiffon-like fabric
which looped behind her neck, then came down to form a
lopsided X over her chest, before tying tightly over the
small of her back. The long tail streamers that dangled from
the knot draped down her legs, reaching almost to her
ankles. She had chosen a shade of pale sea green which shone
like a beacon through the darker maroons and plums that
dominated most of the shoppers.

She looked radiant.

He looked away.

Trip was still arguing with the vendor, but it looked like
the  merchant was starting to crack. Malcolm had just
settled in to watch the collapse, when he became aware of
someone watching him. Immediately, his security senses
kicked into overdrive, and his gaze swept the street in
search of the voyeur. It came to light on a pair of familiar
brown eyes, clouded only slightly by a sheen of liquid
rainbow.

Hoshi was staring up at him, the wooden marionette clutched
close to her chest. A soft, inquisitive smile touched her
lips when she saw his eyes find her, and she tilted her head
slightly to the side in a silent invitation.

Malcolm licked his lips and shook his head faintly.

Her smile faded a little, replaced by puzzlement. She tilted
her head again and waited for his response.

This time, he smiled as he shook his head. "No, Hoshi," he
murmured, though she couldn't possibly hear him. "Not
tonight."

After a moment, she nodded her head slightly, gave him a
small smile, and disappeared into the milling crowd.

Malcolm sighed and closed the window. Leaning heavily
against the wall, he let his eyes focus on the warm fire
that crackled in his room's hearth. "Not tonight," he
murmured again. "Not tonight, tomorrow night, or any bloody
night from now till the Pearly Gates." He closed his eyes
and let his chin touch his chest. "Shame."

With a resigned sigh, he pushed away from the wall and
crossed the room to stretch out on his bed. He closed his
eyes, resigned to getting a little shut eye. The fact that
he was fully clothed, sans shoes, didn't faze him; there
were plenty of nights he slept in his uniform back on board
Enterprise, though those were usually by accident. He always
felt strange disrobing on alien planets; as if he'd wake in
the morning to find some peculiarly unpleasant form of
extraterrestrial bug had crawled into one of his more
private orifices. The thought alone made him shudder.

A soft knock on his door a few minutes later roused him from
his light doze. Frowning slightly, he stood up and crossed
the smooth wood floor. Opening the door a crack, he peered
out into the hall.

"May I come in?" Hoshi asked, smiling.

Malcolm blinked. Here, frankly, was something he hadn't been 
expecting. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, trying to regain
some  balance.

"May I come in?" she asked again, her smile widening. "I
brought fruit!" she offered cheerfully, bringing a hand out
from behind her back to reveal two appagranates.

"Oh. Oh, certainly." Stepping back, he opened the door and
gestured for her to enter.

"It's getting a little chillier out there, so I figured it
was time to come in," Hoshi told him as she walked into the
room, fruit in one hand, marionette in the other. He closed
the door, and forced himself not to look at the creamy span
of her back, which was left largely exposed due to her
costume.

"It's going to rain," he informed her, leaning against the
door.

"I know. I can smell it on the air. I love the smell of
rain, don't you? It smells the same on almost every planet
we've been to so far. It's good for homesickness. Or so I've
been told." Malcolm smiled as he watched her look around the
room. "Your walls are painted differently from mine. Mine
are this gorgeous shade of maroon. Yours are closer to
scarlet." She smiled at him. "Doesn't this planet feel like
a fairy tale?"

He chuckled. "More like one of the Arabian Nights," he
replied,  nodding to her leggings.

Hoshi grinned. "I feel like Scherezade," she giggled,
turning an elegant circle for him. "All I need are seven
veils."

Malcolm hoped she couldn't see his blush in the firelight.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, holding out one of the
appagranates for him. "You only picked at your food at
dinner, and I didn't see you down in the market. You must be
starving."

The fruit had a hard, textured rind, much like an orange.
//Perhaps I should call it an apporangate,// he thought with
amusement. "Eating too much makes a person drowsy, and one
must always be vigilant on a new planet, even if the people
seem friendly." He managed to pry off some of the rind, and
sweet-smelling red juice ran over his thumb before he caught
it with his mouth.

A quiet laugh was Hoshi's reply. "Malcolm, you make every
first  contact mission into something out of boot camp," she
told him,  popping a section of the lush red fruit into her
mouth and licking the juice off her fingers.

"I'd prefer to overreact now, rather than regret not
reacting quickly enough later on," he said, forcing himself
not to stare as she sucked juice off her fingertips. "It's
how I've stayed alive this long."

"Do I detect the tale of a rough and rowdy past behind that
excuse?" Hoshi teased gently, grinning around a piece of
fruit she held delicately between her teeth.

Malcolm blanched. "Not at all," he told her quickly. "I've
never-"

"Relax, Lieutenant, I'm just joking," Hoshi assured him with
a smile, then turned around to go to the window. "Why did
you close it?"

"Like you said, it was getting colder." He sat carefully on
the edge of his bed and pulled free a section of his fruit.
"I didn't want to catch a chill while I slept."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Hoshi spun around, apology evident in her
eyes. "Did I wake you up? I should have thought of that
before I came barging in. I can go, if you'd like."

"No, no that's all right," he assured her. "I was only
sleeping for lack of something better to do. Talking with a
friend certainly counts as something better." He smiled to
let her know it was all right.

She smiled a little in response. "Well, if you say so." The
silky material of her leggings swished together as she
crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed. "Why weren't
you down in the market? There is some AMAZING stuff down
there." She held up her marionette for him to see. "Like
George for instance. George, meet Malcolm"

The little wooden puppet did a hopping dance on his knee in
greeting, and Malcolm laughed. "Pleased to meet you,
George," he said, going so far as to shake the puppet's
finely jointed wooden hand. "As for why I wasn't at the
market…" He shrugged vaguely. "I don't much care for
crowds."

"Same here," Hoshi agreed. "Claustrophobia, remember? But I
couldn't resist. The smells alone…! In fact…" Her eyes
flicked to the window, then back to his face. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

"George, be good." She sat the marionette on the bed between
herself and Malcolm, then hopped up to scamper across the
room and open the dual-paned window, letting in the fragrant
scents and cheerful noises of the bazaar. A gust of wind
swept into the room, tossing her hair slightly and making
the sleek material of her pantaloons flatten against her
shapely legs.

Malcolm swallowed.

"It's beautiful, don't you think?" he heard her murmur, and
watched her set the remnants of her fruit on the window
ledge so she could cross her arms to ward off the chilly
air. "It's like we've stepped back in time to some fantasy
world."

Setting his own fruit on the bedside table, he went to join
her by the window. "Quite lovely," he murmured, letting his
eyes roam down her back, over her bum, and further down to
her ankles, before slowly sliding up again. "Like a dream."

"A very good dream."

"The sweetest."

"Malcolm?"

"Mmm?"

She turned towards him then, and her sumptuous brown eyes
shone  golden through their rainbow mist. "Why did you
choose tattoos that looked like tears?"

Taken aback, he took a moment to answer. "I… It seemed like
a good idea at the time."

"Did it?" One of her small hands came up to touch his cheek, 
carefully tracing the outline of one of his tear-shaped
tattoos. He had six altogether, three on each side, forming
two straight lines that fell to just below his cheekbone on
both sides of his face. "Why?"

Flustered by her questions and her hands, he shook his head.
"I'm not sure." He brought a hand up to follow the line of
Hoshi's tattoos, a series of dots which formed a crescent
that stretched around the outer corner of each eye from
cheekbone to eyebrow. "Why did you choose this?"

"Eyes are the window to the soul," she told him simply. "I
wanted people to see mine, so they'd know who I was."

"That's a very good reason."

"It seemed like it. Does it work?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you know who I am?"

He blinked. "Of course I do. You're Ensign Hoshi Sato,
communications officer aboard -"

She laughed quietly and shook her head. "No, Malcolm. That's
my name and title. Do you know who I am?"

He was silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I
don't think," he told her quietly, "I'm quite sure who
anyone really is. It comes of having a suspicious nature.
Sometimes I even doubt myself."

Her fingers moved up from his tattoo to comb gently through
the hair at his temple. "That sounds lonely," she murmured,
eyes wandering over his face.

"It can be," he said quietly, voice hoarse. "But you adapt."

She shook her head. "No one should adapt to being lonely.
It's  unnatural."

"Not for an armory officer."

"Then you should fraternize more with the comm officers.
We're a sociable bunch."

"Fraternization between officers is-"

"Shhhh…" A slender finger rested over his lips as Hoshi
smiled up into his eyes. "We're not officers right now.
We're a pair of Su'eel who have spent all day at the market,
and our blood is running high. We're working off a little
tension, that's all." She leaned steadily closer.
"Understand?"

Malcolm knew this was wrong. Every moral fiber in his body
was  screaming in protest, reading him regulations and the
riot act, but God help him, he couldn't take his eyes off
her lips. They sparkled slightly, like the rest of her skin,
inviting him closer. He accepted the invitation and leaned
in.

---

The kiss was electric.

He tasted like the tart, sweet juice of alien fruit, but
beneath that was a darker, moodier flavor that could only be
Essence of Malcolm. Burrowing her fingers through his dark
hair, Hoshi let her tongue idly brush over his lips, and
felt a thrill of excitement arch through her as his mouth
opened to let her in.

This was unexpected. The fruit, the kiss, everything. She
hadn't expected to come here tonight. Even as she left the
street to make for her own room, this hadn't been on the
books. But as she passed his door and thought of how
heartbreakingly alone he'd looked as she gazed up at him
from the street below, she couldn't keep herself from
knocking to check on him. It had all been perfectly innocent
and platonic at first, but as so often happened when she was
in his presence for longer than a few minutes, her thoughts
had quickly detoured into unsafe territory, bombarding her
with memories of him shirtless in decon, or sweating at the
gym, or holding her arm and pressing against her back as he
took her through proper phase pistol procedures…

She'd held up admirably, she thought. Too bad he looked so
sexy in that damn vest.

A moan ebbed past her lips as the kiss finally broke and
they stood gasping together by the open window. "Oh my," she
panted, aware of how much she was understating the
situation, but too breathless to think of a better analysis.
"Oh… wow…"

Something that sounded like a growl was Malcolm's response,
and then he was kissing her again, simultaneously sweeping
her off the floor and carrying her away from the window and
towards the bed. Hoshi let herself fall completely into the
kiss, kicking off her delicate slippers and scrubbing her
thoughts free of any cursory guilt that might rear its ugly
head. Nothing that felt this good could really be that bad,
she decided; and if it was, then she would gladly take the
consequences.

"Hoshi," he murmured against her lips as the kiss broke for
the  second time. They were hovering beside the bed now as
he waited for her response. "I understand if-"

"Just move George," she interrupted breathlessly before he
could continue. "I don't want to break him."

He smiled then, and stretched her out carefully on the bed
before quickly picking up George and sitting him haphazardly
on the bedside table. "He can guard the appagranate," the
armory officer said quickly as he stripped off his vest and
knelt beside her on the soft mattress.

"The what?" she asked as he helped her sit up. She lifted
her hair and bent forward so he could work on the knot of
her shirt unimpeded.

"The fruit," he responded. "That's what I've taken to
calling it."

"Creative."

"I can be creative in lots of ways," he told her evasively,
and she shivered as she felt the knot come undone. Malcolm's
hands slowed, and he held the shirt closed against the small
of her back as she sat straight again and gazed into his
eyes. "May I?" he murmured.

She nodded. "Please."

He smiled reassuringly and slowly unwrapped the simple top.
Hoshi closed her eyes when she felt the pressure of the
chiffon material leave the back of her neck as he slid it
away like a scarf. The cool air from the window and
crackling heat of the fire dueled against her torso as he
stripped away the material and left her bare. Immediately
her nipples hardened, and she crossed her arms
self-consciously over her chest to cover them.

"Please," she heard him murmur, and opened her eyes to see
him  looking at her. "You don't have to do that."

"I was just a little cold," she said quietly, feeling a
blush heat her cheeks and color the tops of her breasts.
Carefully, she lowered her arms.

He exhaled shakily as his eyes raked over her upper body. A
soft glow of pride lit up in Hoshi's belly as she watched
him watch her; it had been too long since a man had given
her this kind of attention. Not since Ravis.

"Bloody…" he muttered, reaching out a hand to stroke the
side of one breast, making her shiver again. "You don't
know… how long…"

"Shhhhh…" she soothed, cupping his cheek and running her
thumb over his cheekbone. "No more waiting. I promise."

He didn't look up to acknowledge her words; instead, he
leaned  forward and pressed a shaky kiss to the skin above
her heart. His hands were trembling slightly as they held
her hips, and she got the feeling that he was holding
himself back; reining himself in to keep from tearing her
apart in his lust. It made her feel like a goddess, knowing
he wanted her so badly. It made her want to strip naked and
stretch catlike on the bed in front of him, like an
enticing, untouchable harem girl. He made her want to do
lots of things that her otherwise sensible nature knew were
improper.

Propriety, she decided as his lips wrapped around her left
nipple and began to suck, could take a flying leap.
Debauchery was definitely more worth it.

---

Hoshi tasted like Hoshi smelled and Hoshi looked: sweet and 
seductive, with a trace of bad girl just beneath the
surface. As armory officer, he had long ago honed all his
senses to pick up on the smallest details of a person's
nature; to have his suspicions confirmed now by three senses
- sight, smell, and taste - was gravy. Her nipple was a
hard, warm pebble in his mouth, and each pull he gave was
met with an answering moan from the communications officer.
Her fingers were tunneling through his hair with fierce
determination, holding him in place, tugging him closer.

"Malcolm... Oh yes..." she gasped as he rolled the bud
between his teeth and felt her arch beneath him, her flat,
toned stomach rubbing against his chest. "Oh God..."

He released her nipple and heard her whine with frustration.
"Shhh," he said with a smile, pulling himself up over her
and rolling her opposite nipple between his thumb and
forefinger. He watched her eyes go starry again from the
sensation as he continued. "There are other parts of you
that need attention, Ensign, and I intend to go over them
thoroughly, inch by inch. Do you understand?"

She tried to fix him with a pout, but seemed to be having
difficulty getting her facial muscles to work correctly.
"You're teasing me."

"Only a little." He pinched the nubbin between his fingers
and was gratified to feel her shudder in tandem with her
moan of pleasure. "But I promise, I always follow through."

"You'd better," she panted, grabbing his face between her
hands. "Or else I'll have to use some of my standard
Starfleet combat training on you."

"I believe I taught you much of that combat training,
Ensign. I know how to block anything you can throw."

"I never said I wanted to win." Her eyes sparkled.

A huge grin suffused his face. Finally, a woman who could - 
literally - throw as well as she could catch. "Do you
understand the concept of distracting your opponent?" he
asked.

"Of course I doOOH!" Her back arched as his hand, which had
slid away from her breast, slipped under the waist of her
leggings and delved between her thighs. Her legs widened
instinctively as Malcolm eased his fingers between her lower
lips and began idly stroking her clit. She wasn't wearing
any panties; interesting. "Malcolm!"

"That's my name, yes." Leaning forward, he began dropping
kisses down her throat; feathersoft kisses, meant to drive
her insane above even as his fingers pushed her closer to
the edge down below. "What else do you know?"

Hoshi's hips flexed against his hand as her fingers wrapped
around his wrist, holding him in place. Her face was twisted
into the most gorgeous grimace of pleasure he could remember
seeing, and he had seen many; been the cause of most. "I
know...other maneuvers," she panted, turning her eyes on
him; a luscious shade of violet moved in waves over her
brown irises.

"Such as?"

"I've always been fond... of the frontal assault." With a
groan, she planted her hands on his shoulders and Malcolm
found himself rolled onto his back, staring up into Hoshi's
lusty gaze as she straddled his hips. A husky gasp escaped
his lips as her pelvis rubbed against the bulge in the front
of his pants. "Isn't this nice?" she purred.

"Stunning," he agreed, winded.

"And I'm not even finished yet. First off... ohhhhh, yes..."
This last as she slowly drew his hand out of her own
pantaloons. "You've got... the best fingers in Starfleet,
Lieutenant," she moaned, finally freeing his hand.

"Thank you."

"They're nimble," she continued, bringing his hand up to eye
level so she could examine it in the firelight. Her juices
shimmered on his fingertips. "Is that because you do such
close work?" Without pretext, she lowered his hand enough to
slide his forefinger into her mouth and began to suck.

"Artillery can be a remarkably delicate business," Malcolm
said  absently, watching in awe as her cheeks fluttered with
each suck. Her eyelashes made a dark, feathery fringe
against her cheek. "Most people don't know that..."

"Mm...." She took his finger from her mouth. "I'd be happy
to tell them," she said, moving on to the next finger.

"No need." He swallowed as her tongue danced in circles
around his knuckle. "They wouldn't believe you anyway."

A sharp pang of disappointment burned in his stomach as she
took his finger from her mouth. "That's because they're
idiots," she told him, turning his hand over and laving the
palm with her tongue. "But I don't think I WILL tell them.
Then I'd have to explain how I know, and then they might
start wanting to find out for themselves. I think I'd rather
keep it between you and me, if you don't mind."

"Not at all."

"Good boy." It was ridiculous, how much he liked being
called her good boy, even if it did make him sound like a
lap dog. But then, what a lap to rest in! "Take your pants
off."

He blinked. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"You heard me." Setting his hand down on his bare stomach,
she stood up on the bed so that her feet were straddling his
knees. Standing like that, she looked like a statue carved
in alabaster of some conquering deity. "In combat, there
must eventually come a victory, correct? Which means there
must be a treaty, or some other kind of surrender document.
Now, I'm willing to accept your full surrender, but you have
to give me something, and I demand your pants."

"What if I'm not willing to surrender just yet?" he asked,
warming to the game.

"Then I'll have to keep torturing you."

"And how," he asked, "would you do that?"

"Well, this comes to mind." Placing her hands on her hips,
she began to shimmy out of her silky pantaloons. She paused
when they were halfway off her hips. "Are you ready to give
in yet?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

Malcolm swallowed. "I...DON'T think so," he told her. "Not
just yet."

"How about...now?" she asked, pushing the leggings a little
lower. He could just see that enticing V between her legs
now.

"I think I'm cracking," he said hoarsely. "One more good
blow, and I'm sure I'll crumble."

"One more good blow, huh?" She grinned wickedly. "Guess I'll
have to pull out the big guns then." And she pushed the
leggings off the rest of the way.

---

The silky material pooled around her ankles as Hoshi stood
over him, hands on her hips, watching his face. It was easy
enough to act sure of herself when she was talking to him,
but as always happened when she was in this type of
situation, there was a butterfly of fear in her stomach that
he'd take one look at her, laugh, and turn her away. Just
one more fear piled on top of a heap of others that seemed
to rule her life.

Malcolm, however, didn't seem ready to pitch her out the
door just yet. Quite the opposite, actually; his eyes were
fixed squarely on her pelvic region, making her blush under
his scrutiny. "So?" she asked, trying to distract him. "Do
you give?"

"Anything you want," he agreed, nodding but not looking 
away. "Absolutely anything."

"Your pants?"

"Pants, shirt, rank, role in the universe." Finally, his
eyes flicked up to meet hers. She was a little shocked to
see that his dark blue eyes were covered in a shifting sheen
of smoldering black. "You can have my soul, if you'd like
it. I think you'd get more use out of it than I do."

Her face softened as she gazed down at him. "I'll settle for
the pants just now," she told him quietly, stepping out of
her leggings and sinking down onto her knees across his
legs. "We'll talk about the rest later."

He nodded, his eyes still fastened firmly on hers, until she
was forced to look away to work on his pants. Unlike her
own, the waist was belted rather than elasticated.
Unbuckling the belt, she tugged on the material, trying to
pull it off his body. Malcolm raised his hips obligingly to
help her, and she was able to work the pants - and the
regulation blue Starfleet boxers beneath - down to his
knees. She heard him moan, and looked up to see his eyes
closed, lips slightly parted, as his chest rose and fell
shakily in time with his ragged breathing.

"Does this feel good?" she asked softly, running her fingers
down the sensitive underside of his shaft. She had taken
part in more than one poll amongst the female crewmembers
aboard Enterprise about which male crewmember had ... well,
had the biggest crew MEMBER. She always placed her money on
Malcolm.

Looking at him now, she knew she'd made the sure bet.

"God, yes," he shuddered out, his lean muscles tightening
into cords. She saw his fingers flex and clench as he tried
to control himself. "Fookin' luvely..."

She laughed quietly, tucking that piece of knowledge away
for later use. When he got horny, British Malcolm Reed
turned into UltraBrit. "How about this?" She curled her
fingers around his cock and began pumping; gently at first,
then with increasing speed.

"Gyaaaaah...!" he cried out, back arching away from the
mattress as she worked him. "Oh shite...!"

She clucked her tongue. "Naughty," she chided teasingly.
"Your  language gets dirty when you're turned on,
Lieutenant. I think  there's a regulation somewhere about
that."

"Guuuhhhh..."

"What was that? Did you just ask me to stop?" She stilled
her hand.

"NO!" he exclaimed, eyes flying open as he pushed himself
onto his elbows to stare at her with horror. "Don't...!"

She grinned at him. "Sorry," she said. "Here, let me kiss it
better."

She leaned forward before she could see the expression on
his face. Tucking her raven hair behind her ear, she kissed
first one side of his dick, then the other, then ran her
tongue nimbly around the tip, dispensing of the pre-cum that
gathered there. She wasn't surprised to see that his dick -
and the immediate surrounding areas - were the only parts of
him that weren't sparkling. He obviously hadn't intended to
get lucky with any of the local ladies. Trip, on the other
hand, had taken the full body treatment, leaving him open to
no end of teasing. Hoshi had agreed to full body as well,
though she didn't really care one way or another. There was
only one man she wanted to get into bed, and luckily for
her, that was precisely what she'd managed to do.

"Hoshi."

His voice sounded slightly strangled, so she looked up at
him before sliding her mouth any further down his shaft.
"Yes, Malcolm?"

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he reached one hand down to
lace through her hair. "I appreciate it, luv," he murmured,
sending a delighted shiver down her spine at the endearment.
"But if you... do that, I'm never going to make it through
the home stretch, as the Americans say." His fingers
massaged her scalp. "And I'd rather have that with you, than
this just for me."

A soft smile touched her lips as she leaned into his palm.
"You're a softie under that tough exterior," she murmured.

"It's a well-guarded secret," he said quietly in return.

"I'll keep it between the two of us." Slowly, Hoshi stalked
up his body until she hovered over him, nose to nose. "Say
something else American."

"What?" His fingers combed her hair behind her ear.

"The way you said home stretch. I loved it. Say something
else like that."

He grinned. "Tailgate party."

"Mmmm, keep it coming."

"The Cola Wars."

"Ooooh, nostalgic now."

"I try to please."

"And you succeed."

He laughed. "If it's all the same to you, Hoshi luv," he
said with a smile, "I'd rather like to make love to you
now."

"Please do," she said in return, hoping he could hear her
around the heart in her throat.

---

The next few motions were fluid and familiar, practiced by
the pair of them plenty of times on past lovers, all in
preparation, Malcolm presumed, for this precise moment. They
rolled smoothly to the side, until Hoshi was tucked
comfortably beneath him on the soft mattress. "Don't like
being topped, Malcolm?" she asked with an impish smile, her
fingers combing through the fine hairs at the nape of his
neck.

"Not this time, luv," he murmured, kissing the tip of her
nose.

"That's implying there'll be a next time."

"Shhhh." He silenced her with a soft kiss as he nudged her
legs apart with one knee. She did him one better and wrapped
her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles over the small
of his back.

"Malcolm?" she murmured against his cheek.

"Mmm?" he responded, gazing down her body as he adjusted
himself at her entrance.

"There WILL be a next time."

His eyes came back up to meet hers. Her face was bathed in
fiery orange light and rich blue shadow, cast by the
flickering fire. It made her eyes glow different colors:
blue and magenta. "Let's see if I survive this one, luv," he
said quietly, quirking half a smile. "I've waited so long,
it might just kill me."

She laughed, and this time it was her turn to silence HIM
with a kiss. She took his face between her hands and kissed
him, long and slow; the way a kiss was meant to be. As their
mouths dueled warmly, Malcolm took the opportunity to part
her lower lips and edge his tip into her.


Hoshi gasped against his mouth, her fingers pressing into
his  cheeks. "Oh God..." she whispered breathlessly.

Malcolm didn't bother to speak; it would have been a garbled
mess anyway. Instead, he gritted his teeth and pushed a
little deeper.

"Yes...!" Hoshi exclaimed huskily, her back arching. Her
heels dug into his tailbone, forcing him to go further and
further into her hot passage.

Sparkles that had nothing to do with their alien makeup
flashed in front of Malcolm's eyes. He held himself above
her on his arms, sinking slowly and inexorably into her
body, but kept his head bowed, his face buried in her rich,
sweet smelling hair. THIS, he decided, was worth trading his
soul for.

Hoshi started thrusting first; Malcolm would have liked to
linger a little longer, unmoving, but far be it from him to
stand in the way of progress. He felt her slim hips begin to
grind against his and lost all capacity for rational
thought. With a feral growl, he started to rock into her.

"Malcolm! YES!" Hoshi cried, her fingernails clawing at his
back. The pain drove him wild, and he let loose, slamming
into her with all the pent up desire he'd harbored since
their first day aboard Enterprise. "OH GOD!" she wailed. "OH
GOD, MORE!" He obliged, grabbing her hip in one strong hand
and squeezing as he pistoned in and out, in and out. Chaotic
images of tigers in a steamy, spiced jungle shot through his
mind.

She was beginning to stall; he could feel her silky muscles 
tightening around him in preparation for that final
shattering  explosion. "Yes, Hoshi," he whispered against
her ear. "Anytime, luv..."

She whimpered for him, twining her arms around his neck and
pressing her forehead against his shoulder. "Now... now, oh
God, nowwwww..." she moaned, then cried out as, with a jerk
and a sharp cry, she climaxed, crashing around him like a
tidal wave.

"Hoshi...!" he exclaimed, pressing his face into the crook
of her neck. One stroke... Two... On the third he sank his
teeth into her collarbone as he pushed in to the hilt and
came, breaking apart like spun sugar in a hurricane, more
than happy to come to rest on a warm, breathing cushion of
Hoshi.

---

They lay together for long minutes afterward, unspeaking,
barely moving, heartbeats synchronizing. Hoshi knew that if
she spoke first, Malcolm would roll off her, in gentlemanly
fashion, and she wasn't ready to give up his weight just
yet. So she stayed quiet, combing her fingers through his
damp hair.

"Do you think I left a mark?" he mumbled, breaking the
silence first. One of his hands was tenderly fondling her
left breast.

"Maybe."

"Bloody stupid of me if I did." His lips touched the place
on her collarbone where he'd bitten her during his orgasm.
"I couldn't have put it in a more obvious place."

"Sure you could have," she said with a smile, and lapsed
into a  Transylvanian accent. "You could 'ave beet me on zee
neck like a vampire."

She felt him laugh, and knew everything was okay. "Hoshi..."
he  chuckled, raising his head to look at her.

"That's my name all right. What else do you know?" She
grinned at him.

"Apparently not as much as I thought I did." His hand moved
up from her breast to stroke her cheek. "I never thought
this could happen, you know. I always thought it was just a
laddish dream"

She leaned into his touch. "Then I'm glad the student could
finally teach the teacher something."

He smiled.

A moment passed. "So..." she said quietly.

His eyes went serious. "Yes," he murmured, looking away and
pillowing his cheek on her chest again. "I know."

"Malcolm, this doesn't have to be a one-time thing," she
murmured, rubbing his back. "If we keep it low key, don't
let it affect our job performance..."

"I don't know if I could keep it low key, Hoshi, luv," he
said  softly. "Not with you."

"Well I'm not willing to give you up," she said firmly,
determined not to lose him to his bloody-minded sense of
propriety.

"Hoshi-"

"No. End of discussion. I order you to make love to me every
night from now until we're both too old to care anymore.
Understood?"

He cocked an amused eyebrow at her. "Who's the Lieutenant
here,  Ensign?" he asked.

"Well since you're obviously not in your right mind, I
remove you from duty," she replied, nodding. "That means I
own your ass."

He laughed. "You already did, luv," he said, leaning up to
peck her on the lips.

"Promise?" She wrapped her arms around his neck again.

"On all I hold dear."

"Well good then. That's settled."

"I suppose it is. Besides," he continued, rolling them onto
their sides and cuddling her close, "we can't just be two
ships in the night. I'm not fond of water at the best of
times, and I'd rather not travel the oceans alone."

She smiled and tucked her face into his throat. "You make
good  excuses, Malcolm," she cooed. "You'd make a great
spy."

He chuckled. "Oh, if only you knew the things I could do,
Hoshi. Perhaps I'll show you someday."

"I'll hold you to that, sailor."

"Yes, ma'am."

They were silent for a few minutes, listening to the fire
crackling in the hearth. It had started to rain outside, and
the drops fell like footsteps on the windowpane. "Do you
think we should have closed the window first?" Hoshi asked
after a moment. "I did... scream sorta loud." She blushed.

Malcolm shook his head above her. "Why bother? To everyone
else, we're just a couple of nameless Su'eel working off a
little tension, right?"

"Trip, Travis and T'Pol know better."

"True, but Travis will keep quiet, T'Pol will show
discretion, and Trip will stay silent because you can bet
he's got some lovely Su'eel lass tucked into his bed
somewhere anyway. There's a reason his last name is Tucker."

She laughed and held him and listened to the rain. This
planet was better than a fairytale, she decided. No
fairytale ended THIS happily; and they hadn't even met a
witch along the way.

---

The End