Bridge2sickbay ficlets from 1/2/11
Jan. 2nd, 2011 11:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bluegeekThis week's theme was: New
Prompt: Kirk, McCoy – New sensation
Succumb
Jim could feel the long tails of the cloth used to blindfold him resting against the skin of his bare back, tips nearly reaching his ass. Every time he shifted or gasped out a breath they moved slightly, a brief tickling sensation against sensitized skin, an echo of the sensations causing him to move in the first place.
The darkness offered by the blindfold was absolute and contributed to his disorientation and the feeling that time had no meaning so long as he was here. So long as he was obedient and patient. So long as he waited.
Bones was nearly silent in his work, leaving Jim with only the sound of his own gasping breaths. Often, Jim would have no indication of which direction Bones would come from or what his goal would be until he was already there: a brush of fingers across his shoulders, the press of a thigh against his hip, the scrap of teeth across his lip, all designed to keep him on edge, to keep him waiting.
When he felt the ghosting of breath across his waiting cock his entire body tensed and he very nearly lost the battle, the one waged against his own control. Through sheer determination did he maintain his pose, kneeling on the cushioned floor, his back straight and his hands resting against his parted thighs.
When it was clear that he'd maintained control of himself he heard a soft chuckle, half-imagined, and a gravelly voice whispering, ″Very good.″
Before he could even feel the pride or irritation or whichever of the jumble of emotions that would ultimately win out, a warm, wet mouth enveloped him and his mind stuttered and stopped. A low cry escaped his mouth, but he didn't care, didn't choke it off, didn't want, need, anything other than more and more of that mouth.
″I- I need-″ He panted, arched his back, but didn't move his hands, didn't give in to the urge to grasp at the head poised over him or clutch at the hair that tickled his abdomen. ″Please!″ His plea was hoarse and choked, unlike anything he could have managed face-to-face, in the light.
He felt the hands gripping his hips and easing him forwards, the encouragement to lean back, to allow the mouth, those hands more access to his body, more access to his need.
He gave it, willingly.
***
Prompt: Archer, Pike - (Old dog,) new tricks
Wisdom of the Ages
At first glance, an ignorant bystander probably wouldn't think that Admiral Jonathan Archer, at over one hundred years old, would be able to offer much resistance to the rebel leaders guarding his cell and attempting to remove him to one of the interrogation rooms.
That is exactly, Chris surmised, what he'd been counting on, of course, and the Laxcritians were nothing if not ignorant of the true danger in kidnapping and detaining Starfleet officers of any age, size, gender, or race.
After watching Jon subdue all three guards and liberate their weapons, Chris raised an eyebrow when Jon took the time to straighten out his tunic and run a hand across the remaining wisps of his hair before marching over to his cell and releasing the locks. He knew better than to comment, however, and instead grabbed the offered phaser rifle and flash grenades Jon offered.
As they both stripped the guards of their communicators and passkeys, he couldn't help but comment aloud, ″Too bad we don't have a holo available to capture Kirk's face when we come riding to his rescue.″
Jon speared him with an impatient look. ″That's why we'll have Commander Spock copy the data and security feeds onto his tricorder before we bust out of here.″
Not a bad idea at all, Chris mused as he took point and started down the hallway. ″I wonder what sort of cockamamie escape attempt we'll be interrupting when we release them from the other cell block.″
″Who knows, who cares? They could stand to learn a thing or two about simplicity.″
″Damn straight.″
***
Prompt: McCoy, Joanna - New baby
The Facts of Life
″Daddy?″ Joanna's voice was hushed and her eyes darted to where Jim sat with little David curled asleep on his chest.
″Yes, sweetheart?″ Leonard was pleased at how easily Joanna had appeared to adapt to her recent promotion to big sister and her care in interacting with her newborn brother, even from the first moment she'd met him.
″Mommy told me before about how babies are made, an' how when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much sometimes they can have a new baby.″ Joanna paused for a moment with her head cocked to one side in a stance oddly reminiscent of Spock at his most scientifically curious. His stomach dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of his feet and he swallowed convulsively as his daughter continued. ″But how does it work when a daddy and a daddy love each other very much like you and Jim?″
Clear blue eyes regarded him steadily and Leonard could swear that all he could hear was his own heartbeat rushing loudly in his ears. Until he heard the telltale sound of Jim's badly-muffled laughter, that is.
Leonard turned and glared at him. ″You wanna help me out here, Jim?″
Jim's eyes widened comically and he glanced down at their sleeping son, still asleep against his chest. ″I'd love to , Bones, but I think you're definitely more qualified in that particular area. Besides, I think David needs a change...″
And then the traitor escaped into the nursery like the coward he was.
Leonard sighed and returned his attention to his patiently waiting daughter. ″Well, honey, when a daddy and a daddy love each other very much, just like me and Jim...″
***
Prompt: McCoy, Uhura – New language
He Speaks Volumes
Leonard raised a single eyebrow at Nyota in astonishment, holding it there for several seconds before apparently realizing what he was doing and forcing it back into submission, a scowl on his face. ″You've got to be kidding me.″
Nyota sighed. They'd been over this already and she suspected that the doctor was simply being stubborn. She wondered how much of that was an inborn trait and how much was a skill learned from close proximity to Jim Kirk. ″I'm afraid not, Leonard.″
″They base their entire communication on the use of their eyebrows?″
Nyota pressed her lips together for a moment and drew in a long breath through her nose, releasing it slowly as she counted to five. ″Not entirely, but their eyebrows do have a large role in effective communication, yes.″
″But why me?″ Leonard glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest.
Nyota rolled her eyes; now he was just being deliberately dense. ″Because you've got extremely expressive eyebrows that their chief negotiator has taken a liking to.″ Seeing him open his mouth to continue arguing, she raised a finger in the air, tipped with a perfectly painted purple fingernail, in warning. ″No arguments. You've been promoted and we're beaming down now. You're going to just have to suck it up and think of the Federation.″
With that she spun on her heel and stepped onto the platform, indicating to the transporter tech to prepare for transport.
***
Prompt: Spock, Uhura - New addition
Value Beyond the Scientific
Spock was beginning to see why his parents had ceased procreation after one child.
The entire birthing process was exhausting and uncomfortable and worrisome, and that only described his experiences with the process. He had it on good authority (Nurse Chapel, Doctor McCoy, and for some reason the Captain as well), however, that verbalizing his own dissatisfaction with the process would not be well received.
Spock suspected that they were correct.
Besides, Nyota was rather more distracted than he'd ever seen her before, even at the height of her efforts at the academy, and he did not believe that now was the appropriate time to compare notes, as it were, with her about their experiences.
Spock had been strongly urged (read: ordered) by his father to ensure his presence for the duration of Nyota's labor and delivery to ensure that she experienced the highest possible levels of satisfaction with the process. Though he did not choose to explain in more detail, Sarek had admitted during their last communication that this advice was that Spock's mother would have offered as well. In truth, it was not an experience he would desire to miss, even were he not to have received such advice.
And so Spock had remained at her side, offering support and reassurance and suggestions for different pain-relief methods as needed. Initially he had felt up to the task. He had performed copious amount of research and amassed a great deal of knowledge from a variety of verifiable sources, both Terran and Vulcan. Much of the data proved useful, as well. For a time.
Walking had proven extremely useful. Until it wasn't. Massage had engendered a very positive response from his wife. Until it didn't. When it was suspected that the child might be slightly malpositioned, counter pressure had been an effective strategy. Until it wasn't.
The constant need to change strategy and update his plan for caring for his family was beginning to wear on Spock, and according to Nurse Chapel, they were only halfway there.
Yes, Spock thought as he ran a cool washcloth across Nyota's shoulders and neck. He could definitely see why his parents had declared their family complete with one child. The entire process, though fascinating, was quite trying as well.
::
Thirteen hours later while holding his newborn daughter in his arms, he wondered why on earth they had not chosen to do this sooner. By the time she opened her eyes and stared into his own and then curled her finger around his, he'd long-since forgotten about the trials of labor.
::
Nyota hadn't, but then, she'd known it was worth it all along. And seeing her stoic husband turned into a figurative pile of goo by their daughter was a lovely bonus.
***
Prompt: Kirk, McCoy, Joanna - New boyfriend
Slight Overreaction
″Okay, here's the plan,″ Jim began ticking items off on his fingers as he spoke. ″Bones, you answer the door and let him in, offer him a drink, do that Southern hospitality crap you always harp on about. We want him to see you as the best one to confide in should it be necessary in the future, we don't want him scared of you. That's what the rest of us are for. Uhura will help you out while she examines his body language, silent cues, and sincerity.″
Receiving nods of understanding, Jim spun around to face the next group. ″Spock, you will stand by the door looking intimidating and blocking any escape attempts.″ Jim paused at Spock's raised eyebrow but continued after Spock released a barely-audible sigh and reached for his utility belt.
″Chekov, you'll work on the background check with Scotty on the kitchen terminals, which you may do any improvements you wish to.″ They both nodded and looked rather delighted.
Jim turned to his pilot. ″Sulu, you and I will sit in the corner and not speak. You polish your katana and I'll run diagnostics on all my phasers.″
He turned once again to face the entire room and clapped his hands. ″Everyone understand your roles in this mission?″
Joanna, who had initially turned a ghastly pale and then gradually shaded to angry red, was practically quivering in her boots. ″Uncle Jim! I thought Dad would be the one to overreact about this, not you. How could you?″
″I'm sure he's a nice boy, Joanna. We just want to make sure of it.″
″You are ruining my life!″ She ran out of the room with a giant huff.
Jim, remembering what he was like when he was Joanna's age, called after her retreating form, ″That's our job, Jojo, and we take our job very seriously.″
***
Prompt: Spock, Amanda - New season
The Logic of Snow
When Spock finally emerged from the house and stepped out onto the snow-covered back desk she had to call upon every bit of experience being an Ambassador's wife had earned her in order to keep from laughing in front of her son.
He was covered from head to toe in insulation: jackets, snow pants, boots, a scarf, hat earmuffs, and mittens. From the rotund looks of him he had multiple layers on underneath the outerwear as well and his normally sure and graceful walk more closely resembled a cautious waddle across the slippery wooden boards.
″I do not believe that I entirely approve of this weather, Mother.″
Amanda released a bit of her control and allowed herself to smile down at her son as she rested a gloved hand on the bobble on top of his hat. ″It is not for you to approve or disapprove, Spock. It is for you to experience.″
Spock's face betrayed a hint of confusion. ″ I do not understand. What is the purpose of this exercise?″
″To build snow people and throw snowballs and roll around in the snow making imprints, sweetheart.″
Spock looked as scandalized as a half-Vulcan youth could get away with in the privacy of his human family's Terran home. ″Roll around? In this... snow? Mother, have you suffered a head injury?″ He looked around, scanning the yard. ″Where is Father? I believe I should inform him of the situation.″
Amanda rubbed her son's back soothingly, though she suspected that he could not feel it through all his layers. ″He will be out shortly. He wanted to put another layer of thermals on before coming out to join us.″
″Father is joining is for this experience?″ Now even Spock's voice betrayed a hint of his incredulity. ″Why?″
″Because it is my wish to do so and he desires to make me happy, that's why.″
″Well,″ Spock said after a pause, resignation in his tone. ″I suppose that is... logical.″
***
In other news, I have a mild fever. I haven't had a fever (that I've known about) in a very long time. I disapprove :(
Prompt: Kirk, McCoy – New sensation
Succumb
Jim could feel the long tails of the cloth used to blindfold him resting against the skin of his bare back, tips nearly reaching his ass. Every time he shifted or gasped out a breath they moved slightly, a brief tickling sensation against sensitized skin, an echo of the sensations causing him to move in the first place.
The darkness offered by the blindfold was absolute and contributed to his disorientation and the feeling that time had no meaning so long as he was here. So long as he was obedient and patient. So long as he waited.
Bones was nearly silent in his work, leaving Jim with only the sound of his own gasping breaths. Often, Jim would have no indication of which direction Bones would come from or what his goal would be until he was already there: a brush of fingers across his shoulders, the press of a thigh against his hip, the scrap of teeth across his lip, all designed to keep him on edge, to keep him waiting.
When he felt the ghosting of breath across his waiting cock his entire body tensed and he very nearly lost the battle, the one waged against his own control. Through sheer determination did he maintain his pose, kneeling on the cushioned floor, his back straight and his hands resting against his parted thighs.
When it was clear that he'd maintained control of himself he heard a soft chuckle, half-imagined, and a gravelly voice whispering, ″Very good.″
Before he could even feel the pride or irritation or whichever of the jumble of emotions that would ultimately win out, a warm, wet mouth enveloped him and his mind stuttered and stopped. A low cry escaped his mouth, but he didn't care, didn't choke it off, didn't want, need, anything other than more and more of that mouth.
″I- I need-″ He panted, arched his back, but didn't move his hands, didn't give in to the urge to grasp at the head poised over him or clutch at the hair that tickled his abdomen. ″Please!″ His plea was hoarse and choked, unlike anything he could have managed face-to-face, in the light.
He felt the hands gripping his hips and easing him forwards, the encouragement to lean back, to allow the mouth, those hands more access to his body, more access to his need.
He gave it, willingly.
***
Prompt: Archer, Pike - (Old dog,) new tricks
Wisdom of the Ages
At first glance, an ignorant bystander probably wouldn't think that Admiral Jonathan Archer, at over one hundred years old, would be able to offer much resistance to the rebel leaders guarding his cell and attempting to remove him to one of the interrogation rooms.
That is exactly, Chris surmised, what he'd been counting on, of course, and the Laxcritians were nothing if not ignorant of the true danger in kidnapping and detaining Starfleet officers of any age, size, gender, or race.
After watching Jon subdue all three guards and liberate their weapons, Chris raised an eyebrow when Jon took the time to straighten out his tunic and run a hand across the remaining wisps of his hair before marching over to his cell and releasing the locks. He knew better than to comment, however, and instead grabbed the offered phaser rifle and flash grenades Jon offered.
As they both stripped the guards of their communicators and passkeys, he couldn't help but comment aloud, ″Too bad we don't have a holo available to capture Kirk's face when we come riding to his rescue.″
Jon speared him with an impatient look. ″That's why we'll have Commander Spock copy the data and security feeds onto his tricorder before we bust out of here.″
Not a bad idea at all, Chris mused as he took point and started down the hallway. ″I wonder what sort of cockamamie escape attempt we'll be interrupting when we release them from the other cell block.″
″Who knows, who cares? They could stand to learn a thing or two about simplicity.″
″Damn straight.″
***
Prompt: McCoy, Joanna - New baby
The Facts of Life
″Daddy?″ Joanna's voice was hushed and her eyes darted to where Jim sat with little David curled asleep on his chest.
″Yes, sweetheart?″ Leonard was pleased at how easily Joanna had appeared to adapt to her recent promotion to big sister and her care in interacting with her newborn brother, even from the first moment she'd met him.
″Mommy told me before about how babies are made, an' how when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much sometimes they can have a new baby.″ Joanna paused for a moment with her head cocked to one side in a stance oddly reminiscent of Spock at his most scientifically curious. His stomach dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of his feet and he swallowed convulsively as his daughter continued. ″But how does it work when a daddy and a daddy love each other very much like you and Jim?″
Clear blue eyes regarded him steadily and Leonard could swear that all he could hear was his own heartbeat rushing loudly in his ears. Until he heard the telltale sound of Jim's badly-muffled laughter, that is.
Leonard turned and glared at him. ″You wanna help me out here, Jim?″
Jim's eyes widened comically and he glanced down at their sleeping son, still asleep against his chest. ″I'd love to , Bones, but I think you're definitely more qualified in that particular area. Besides, I think David needs a change...″
And then the traitor escaped into the nursery like the coward he was.
Leonard sighed and returned his attention to his patiently waiting daughter. ″Well, honey, when a daddy and a daddy love each other very much, just like me and Jim...″
***
Prompt: McCoy, Uhura – New language
He Speaks Volumes
Leonard raised a single eyebrow at Nyota in astonishment, holding it there for several seconds before apparently realizing what he was doing and forcing it back into submission, a scowl on his face. ″You've got to be kidding me.″
Nyota sighed. They'd been over this already and she suspected that the doctor was simply being stubborn. She wondered how much of that was an inborn trait and how much was a skill learned from close proximity to Jim Kirk. ″I'm afraid not, Leonard.″
″They base their entire communication on the use of their eyebrows?″
Nyota pressed her lips together for a moment and drew in a long breath through her nose, releasing it slowly as she counted to five. ″Not entirely, but their eyebrows do have a large role in effective communication, yes.″
″But why me?″ Leonard glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest.
Nyota rolled her eyes; now he was just being deliberately dense. ″Because you've got extremely expressive eyebrows that their chief negotiator has taken a liking to.″ Seeing him open his mouth to continue arguing, she raised a finger in the air, tipped with a perfectly painted purple fingernail, in warning. ″No arguments. You've been promoted and we're beaming down now. You're going to just have to suck it up and think of the Federation.″
With that she spun on her heel and stepped onto the platform, indicating to the transporter tech to prepare for transport.
***
Prompt: Spock, Uhura - New addition
Value Beyond the Scientific
Spock was beginning to see why his parents had ceased procreation after one child.
The entire birthing process was exhausting and uncomfortable and worrisome, and that only described his experiences with the process. He had it on good authority (Nurse Chapel, Doctor McCoy, and for some reason the Captain as well), however, that verbalizing his own dissatisfaction with the process would not be well received.
Spock suspected that they were correct.
Besides, Nyota was rather more distracted than he'd ever seen her before, even at the height of her efforts at the academy, and he did not believe that now was the appropriate time to compare notes, as it were, with her about their experiences.
Spock had been strongly urged (read: ordered) by his father to ensure his presence for the duration of Nyota's labor and delivery to ensure that she experienced the highest possible levels of satisfaction with the process. Though he did not choose to explain in more detail, Sarek had admitted during their last communication that this advice was that Spock's mother would have offered as well. In truth, it was not an experience he would desire to miss, even were he not to have received such advice.
And so Spock had remained at her side, offering support and reassurance and suggestions for different pain-relief methods as needed. Initially he had felt up to the task. He had performed copious amount of research and amassed a great deal of knowledge from a variety of verifiable sources, both Terran and Vulcan. Much of the data proved useful, as well. For a time.
Walking had proven extremely useful. Until it wasn't. Massage had engendered a very positive response from his wife. Until it didn't. When it was suspected that the child might be slightly malpositioned, counter pressure had been an effective strategy. Until it wasn't.
The constant need to change strategy and update his plan for caring for his family was beginning to wear on Spock, and according to Nurse Chapel, they were only halfway there.
Yes, Spock thought as he ran a cool washcloth across Nyota's shoulders and neck. He could definitely see why his parents had declared their family complete with one child. The entire process, though fascinating, was quite trying as well.
Thirteen hours later while holding his newborn daughter in his arms, he wondered why on earth they had not chosen to do this sooner. By the time she opened her eyes and stared into his own and then curled her finger around his, he'd long-since forgotten about the trials of labor.
Nyota hadn't, but then, she'd known it was worth it all along. And seeing her stoic husband turned into a figurative pile of goo by their daughter was a lovely bonus.
***
Prompt: Kirk, McCoy, Joanna - New boyfriend
Slight Overreaction
″Okay, here's the plan,″ Jim began ticking items off on his fingers as he spoke. ″Bones, you answer the door and let him in, offer him a drink, do that Southern hospitality crap you always harp on about. We want him to see you as the best one to confide in should it be necessary in the future, we don't want him scared of you. That's what the rest of us are for. Uhura will help you out while she examines his body language, silent cues, and sincerity.″
Receiving nods of understanding, Jim spun around to face the next group. ″Spock, you will stand by the door looking intimidating and blocking any escape attempts.″ Jim paused at Spock's raised eyebrow but continued after Spock released a barely-audible sigh and reached for his utility belt.
″Chekov, you'll work on the background check with Scotty on the kitchen terminals, which you may do any improvements you wish to.″ They both nodded and looked rather delighted.
Jim turned to his pilot. ″Sulu, you and I will sit in the corner and not speak. You polish your katana and I'll run diagnostics on all my phasers.″
He turned once again to face the entire room and clapped his hands. ″Everyone understand your roles in this mission?″
Joanna, who had initially turned a ghastly pale and then gradually shaded to angry red, was practically quivering in her boots. ″Uncle Jim! I thought Dad would be the one to overreact about this, not you. How could you?″
″I'm sure he's a nice boy, Joanna. We just want to make sure of it.″
″You are ruining my life!″ She ran out of the room with a giant huff.
Jim, remembering what he was like when he was Joanna's age, called after her retreating form, ″That's our job, Jojo, and we take our job very seriously.″
***
Prompt: Spock, Amanda - New season
The Logic of Snow
When Spock finally emerged from the house and stepped out onto the snow-covered back desk she had to call upon every bit of experience being an Ambassador's wife had earned her in order to keep from laughing in front of her son.
He was covered from head to toe in insulation: jackets, snow pants, boots, a scarf, hat earmuffs, and mittens. From the rotund looks of him he had multiple layers on underneath the outerwear as well and his normally sure and graceful walk more closely resembled a cautious waddle across the slippery wooden boards.
″I do not believe that I entirely approve of this weather, Mother.″
Amanda released a bit of her control and allowed herself to smile down at her son as she rested a gloved hand on the bobble on top of his hat. ″It is not for you to approve or disapprove, Spock. It is for you to experience.″
Spock's face betrayed a hint of confusion. ″ I do not understand. What is the purpose of this exercise?″
″To build snow people and throw snowballs and roll around in the snow making imprints, sweetheart.″
Spock looked as scandalized as a half-Vulcan youth could get away with in the privacy of his human family's Terran home. ″Roll around? In this... snow? Mother, have you suffered a head injury?″ He looked around, scanning the yard. ″Where is Father? I believe I should inform him of the situation.″
Amanda rubbed her son's back soothingly, though she suspected that he could not feel it through all his layers. ″He will be out shortly. He wanted to put another layer of thermals on before coming out to join us.″
″Father is joining is for this experience?″ Now even Spock's voice betrayed a hint of his incredulity. ″Why?″
″Because it is my wish to do so and he desires to make me happy, that's why.″
″Well,″ Spock said after a pause, resignation in his tone. ″I suppose that is... logical.″
***
In other news, I have a mild fever. I haven't had a fever (that I've known about) in a very long time. I disapprove :(
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