The BLTS Archive- Pinch Me
by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net)

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Disclaimers: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and all its characters.
But they don't own Earth.

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"I'm dreaming," she informed the half-sleeping, dark-headed form
beside her.

"Are you?" he asked, groggily.

"I must be," she said. "Or maybe hallucinating. Maybe the Borg are
after us, or the ship has been taken over by hostile aliens, and
I'm...retreating from reality."

He responded with a non-committal grunt.

"Or maybe we're trapped in another god-forsaken void, and I've finally
just lost my mind," she speculated.

"Maybe," her companion replied.

They were both silent for a few moments.

"It's a nice dream, though," she said.

"Tell me about it," he said, starting to sound more alert.

"It's a dream about us, of course," she said. "We've gotten back to
the alpha quadrant, and survived the Starfleet vs. Voyager
inquisition, and we've both resigned in a huff, and now we're lying
naked underneath my great-grandmother's quilt, in my family's cabin on
Lake George."

"I can't believe it," he said, incredulous. "I'm having the exact same
dream!"

"Extraordinary," she said.

"Kathryn?" he asked.

"Hmmm?" she replied.

"I don't think it's a dream," he said.

"No. No, it has to be," she said, firmly.

"It isn't," he said.

"Prove it," she said.

"How?" he asked.

"Pinch me," she said.

She felt him shift in the bed until he was propped up on one elbow
beside her. Then she felt his other hand, warm and sure, move
languidly from her waist, up over her ribs to her breast. He took her
nipple between his fingers and pinched her firmly.

"Oh," she gasped, then smiled broadly. The sensation of her lips
stretching over her teeth was vaguely unfamiliar. It had been a long
time since she'd smiled like that.

"Not dreaming," he confirmed, smiling as well.

She sighed and stretched luxuriously, arching her back and moving
closer to her former first officer. "I don't know," she said. "I'm
still not completely convinced. Maybe we..."

She gasped again, sharply, as a soft, warm, wet mouth replaced the
fingers on her breast. Glancing down, she saw that the dark head had
disappeared and was burrowing under the old quilt. She began to moan.

And he proceeded to prove to her, all night, that this was no dream.

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The End