Lt. Kim’s Personal Log:
Argelius is a lot like the guide books say; good food, happy people, crazy
weather. The sun had been shining when we went into the first club, but a
light rain was falling when we left. Argelius had never heard of weather
control and didn’t want to know. Cobb and Gately cursed the wet and what it
was doing to our uniforms. I stood under an eave until the rest of them had
the sense to get out of the rain.
“Why are we standing around like this?” Cobb wanted to know. So did I.
“Because Harvey can’t figure out where he wants to go,” Gately
replied.
“I just wanted a consensus,” Stovall replied.
“We could have done that back inside.”
“You can’t talk in that place,” Stovall argued. “You can’t talk
in any of these places.”
“Of course you can talk. Didn’t you hear me talking to Joe?”
“Any place that has tiny little light flashing things instead of applause
doesn’t want anything interrupting the ambiance. It’s rude.”
“You just have to learn to use your small voice,” I said.
“Why are we exploring strange new worlds if we treat them just the same
as home?” He countered.
“Maybe you should switch to anthropology and study them from behind a
duck blind,” Cobb interjected. “The rest of us are looking to get
drunk.”
“Here, here,” Gately added, having gotten a head start on the rest of
us.
“I’m just saying, we want to see the local culture, not just our
culture with a new hat. What do you think, Lieutenant?”
Even though we were all the same rank, I knew Stovall was talking to me.
I’d been serving on the Thaddeus Venture for over a year and I was still
Lieutenant. Of course, I was still thought of them by their last names.
“As the mission was explained to me, it was to find real alcohol.”
Cobb shivered. “There, what about there,” he said pointing at a dive
not far down the alley.
“Fortune favors the bold,” I replied.
Stovall stared at us for a moment. “Oh, what the hell.”
“Right, let’s move out,” Gately added.
By now the weather was already clearing again. As we headed for the club
with the most garish sign I’d seen yet, I had to wonder, why was I here? Not
to get drunk, surely. No, it was a sad attempt at bonding with my crewmates.
We got along. Everybody was professional, friendly, normal. But still there
was a distance. Dr. Kaiser had been polite, even nurturing, but his attitude
was clear; this was my problem, not the crew’s. Was it because I was
separated from Voyager, or just Tom and B’Elanna?
The new place was really dark. It took a moment to get accustomed to it.
That’s why she got the drop on me.
“Harry!”
The reason I went on the pub crawl, and not on, say, the walking tour, was
that it avoided dealing with Bishop.
“Lieutenant,” I answered as noncommittally as I could.
“Please, Harry, we’re off duty. Call me Jessie. Harry, Jessie. Jessie,
Harry.”
“Right.”
Species that join the Federation have reached a level of maturity that
precludes the need for a sexual harassment policy. And certainly anyone
who’s gone through the Academy knows better to point and whistle. But a
human in a legally binding triad seems to bring out the freak in people. The
same crewman who wouldn’t think twice about serving with a Denobulan or a
Bolian have to assume that if you have more than one spouse you clearly are
still looking for action.
“Want to share a drink?”
Lt. Bishop is cute, but I wouldn’t be attracted to her even if I wasn’t
married. Too pushy.
“No thank you.”
She leaned in close. “Want to share me?”
“No thank you.”
“You sure? Keith’s willing to make it feel just like home.”
From across the room, Lt. Davenport raised a glass. Great. They’re
multiplying.
“Lieutenant,” I sighed. “This is highly inappropriate.”
“Lighten up Harry. This is shore leave. We’re off the clock. Live a
little.”
A hand clamped onto her shoulder like a vise. Incredibly, it was Seven.
“Lieutenant, you are in violation of Starfleet regulation 467 Section 12,
creation of a hostile work environment.”
I still couldn’t believe it was her. Neither could Bishop. She was
dressed beautifully, stylishly, in soft knits. Her hair was down, rolling off
her shoulders. As hard as it is to imagine, she was even more beautiful than I
remembered.
Bishop took a long appreciative look at Seven, and then another at me. I
could see her doing the math in her head, the way I’d seen Tom do it so many
times before.
“Well,” Bishop finally said. “You’re not in Starfleet, so there’s
no harm in talking with you, is there?”
That’s when Seven gave this deep smile, this smile that exuded sex, this
smile that gave me an immediate, involuntary hard on. Seven released her death
grip on Bishop’s shoulder. She seemed to almost slither up Bishop’s side.
I don’t know how, given that Seven must be 15 centimeters taller than her.
She crossed in front of Bishop, letting her hands drift sensuously over the
Lieutenant’s collar bone. Seven leaned in close and whispered something, and
sealed it with a light kiss blown in her ear.
Bishop’s jaw actually dropped. She took a step back, and then fled as
fast as she could without running.
Still across the room, Davenport looked confused.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I enquired as to whether she would share a meal of my feces.”
My jaw dropped. Seven didn’t just think outside the box, she’d built
her own box, and then thought outside of that.
She anticipated my question. “Threatening a Starfleet officer would risk
my being confined.”
“What if she said yes?”
“That would be disgusting.”
The rest of my group had been eyeing us from the bar.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Seven and I watched as Cobb worked up his nerve first.
“Agreed,” she said.
I motioned to the door. Cobb moved to intercept.
“Lieutenant, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“No.”
We headed back to the bar I just left. Despite Gately’s assertion that
the locals don’t like people talking during the show, plenty of people were,
and not just the tourists. I didn’t feel like being on display, and neither
did Seven, so we found a table in the back. She seemed to enjoy sitting on
cushions instead of chairs, and that body was born to lounge. I was able to
warn her away from the heavy drinks. Suddenly, getting drunk no longer felt
that appealing.
She was here on a publicity tour for her new catering book, “647 Rules
for Successful Event Planning,” which, I found out, was selling quite well,
as were the instruction programs, kitchen knives, measuring cups, aprons, oven
mitts and swimsuit calendar. And she had changed her name.
“My designation is just Seven,” she said with a practiced smile I’d
never seen before. “I am no longer part of the Collective.” In the back of
my head I vaguely remembered reading about that.
“I guess Seven of Three doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“As well as being mathematically impossible.” It had been her
publicist’s idea, to make her seem more inviting. I could just imagine the
meeting, ‘Darling, we love you, but ixnay on the orgbay.’
“Not Annika?” I asked.
“I haven’t been Annika Hansen for many years,” she said with only a
trace of bitterness. Seven is who I am.”
I needed to change the subject. “You’re looking good,” I said.
She blushed. Seven never blushed. That sweet enigmatic smile returned.
She looked better than good. She looked fantastic. I had a flash in my mind
of past times, her naked and in pleasure. I remembered the sounds she made the
first time she came, and the sensations of sliding deep inside her. She was
forceful and delicate, innocent and sinful. There was no act she would not let
me do in her pursuit of pleasure, and that power was a heady experience I had
not been use to.
I shifted in my seat to make the erection less noticeable, and drove my
fork into my beef qwffrffr. Seven was holding hers on the end of her fork, not
quite sure what to make of it. Another new experience, but not one she was
enjoying.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with
it. I had one just an hour ago and it was great.”
“It does appear they are making it up as they go along.”
Seven gave up the ghost, and put her fork down. I knew that I should be
using this time to learn more about what was going on back home, but it
remained difficult to do much more than stare at her lips. She noticed and
gave a sly smile.
Suddenly, the most inappropriate thoughts began shooting through my brain.
Seven stretches back from her cushions and leans all the way back in her
booth, her arms over her head and her chest thrust forward. She looks me
straight in the eye with an expression of pure desire. She lowers her arms as
I slide closer to her. As soon as our hips meet in the booth she leans to me
and kisses me deeply. It’s intense, as I pull her closer to me. She reaches
below the table and quickly works her hand into my pants and begins working me
with all her effort. I release her shoulder and cup her breast, kneading it
through the fabric. She moans into my mouth. All pretension of decorum is
lost. We fall backwards onto the cushions. Her dress is up over waist and my
other hand is cupping her ass. We don’t care what the other patrons or the
staff or the whole planet thinks. There is just us, and Seven kissing me as
she smoothly and strongly works me to climax.
Seven seemed amused, as if she had been reading my thoughts. I needed to
change the subject.
“Married life agrees with you,” I said. It did. I’d never seen her so
relaxed.
“For you as well,” she replied.
“How’s Chakotay? Still in politics? Or has he found a new hobby.”
“He has been elected to the San Francisco city council. To date, his
interest has not waned. We are waiting to see if it holds to his second
term.”
I raised my glass. “To long attention spans.” Seven did not pick up her
drink, so I put mine down untouched. “And the Admiral?”
“Kathryn is well,” she replied. I still couldn’t get use to Janeway
being called that. And I still couldn’t believe Seven would ever call anyone
by their first name.
“She has been following your career with interest,” Seven continued.
“Really? I don’t know what’s to follow. We’re kept strictly to milk
runs.”
“It is vital towards the reconstruction effort.”
“Yeah, we do our part. You got to admit though, it’s a little
boring.” It was a lot boring. Most of the crew thought that after what I
went through, that I’d like some easy work, but it just seemed like a waste
of my experience and training.
Seven kept trying to boost my spirits. “Starfleet would not want to put
you at risk a second time.”
“Yeah, for Starfleet to lose Harry Kim once may be regarded as a
misfortune; to lose him twice looks like carelessness.” I think there’s
actually an order for me to be put on a shuttlecraft if they even detect an
anomaly. Still, I’ve run Ops on the Intrepid class more than anyone else in
Starfleet, and they must find it handy to have a monkey who knows which button
gives the bananas.
Old Seven would have agreed with me. New Seven looked me straight in the
eyes and said, “Your spouses would miss you, your friends would miss you,
and I would miss you.”
There was a certainty in her tone, in her eyes. She raised her own glass.
“To those who would miss us.” I returned her toast. I had been feeling
sorry for myself and it was stupid. Maybe I was just missing Tom and
B’Elanna.
I saw McIlhenny and Davenport at the door. They saw me and waved. They
received a courtesy wave in response. The two sat away from us, but were still
looking more our way than at the band. I didn’t feel like being their floor
show, so we left.
Seven said she had heard of a place recommended by her publicist. She’d
glanced once at a map of the city, so I had her lead me through the
labyrinthine alleyways. The latest roll of the Argelian weather gods came up
as fog. It was getting thicker as we moved further away from the tourist
areas. I never once doubted that Seven knew exactly where she was going.
“Given your reservations, I find it surprising you remained in
Starfleet,” she finally announced.
“Not really. Being thrown to the far edge of the galaxy with no certain
chance of return for seven years can’t be any worse than being a pawn in a
temporal war, or trapped in an evil parallel universe, or living an entire
lifetime in a single day. You’re not even really in Starfleet if you
haven’t spent at least a week in the 20th Century.”
Seven nodded. “I understand they’re preparing a restaurant guide.”
“Yeah. I heard there was a really great place for pizza in 1986 San
Francisco.”
Seven stopped for a moment, and looked about.
“You’re not lost are you?” I asked.
“Of course not,” she said with typical annoyance. “This gate was
unlocked on the orbital image I saw. I must plan a new route.”
She stood still, her head making slight turns as she plotted our new
course. I held my tongue, and after a minute she walked off in a new
direction. The alley got even narrower and we walked single file. I
appreciated the view.
Seven’s walk hadn’t changed, still commanding, generating an imperious
twitch in her hips. I found it harder and harder to look at anything except
her ass.
“I’m not being fair, really. Sure, I’ve done and seen things few
people have, but I missed a lot of the regular stuff.”
“Indeed?”
“Well, Voyager was my first assignment. I’d never even been out of the
solar system before that. So all the places Starfleet takes for granted are
still new to me.”
“I hadn’t realized we had that in common.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Can’t wait until I get to try Risa.”
Seven looked over her shoulder at me. “Let me know when you are scheduled
for leave there. We should go together.”
I stopped in my tracks.
“Kathryn always said new experiences should be shared.”
I looked in her eyes. Did a moment just pass, or did I just hope one had?
“Sounds like a good idea,” I finally replied.
Seven nodded in agreement and moved on. It looked like there was an extra
swing in her step.
I see us stopping in a fog shrouded corner. She pulls me close and we begin
to kiss. That doesn’t last long as she sinks to her knees. She roughly pulls
down my pants and wraps her hands around my cock. She takes me into her mouth
and begins the most astonishing blowjob I’ve ever had. She strokes me with
her hand as she swirls her tongue over the tip. She works faster and faster,
finally moving both hands to grab my ass as she fucks me with her mouth. The
climax builds in me, overwhelming. I double over as I shoot deep down her
throat. Even after she swallows every drop she continues to work my cock until
I soften in her mouth. When she finishes she looks up at me and kisses it
tenderly.
Wait, that’s wrong. Seven deserves more than just to be the subject of my
orgasms. It isn’t fair that I should be the one having all the fun.
She pulls me into a doorway, and we embrace. She pulls my hand around to
her chest. Her dress is open all the way to the ground. I grasp her breast
firmly and suck on a nipple as my other hand slides over her ass. I show the
proper reverence to each breast in turn before Seven pushes down on my
shoulders. I stoop low, my hands holding onto her ass for balance as I lick
her thighs before moving to her wet pussy. I gently suck on her clit, rubbing
its nub with my tongue, using every skill my Mistress had ever taught me.
Seven is moaning louder and louder. She moves until she is standing over me,
my head tilted all the way back as I continue my efforts. She grabs my hair
and pulls me even closer. She comes with small short shouts. As I lean my
forehead against her abdomen, she pets me tenderly.
Seven stopped again to get bearings. I wasn’t paying attention and I ran
right in to her. As I stopped, I could feel my erection rest between her
cheeks. Even through the clothing it was pretty obvious. I grabbed her
shoulders to keep from knocking her over.
I should have stepped back. It was the right thing to do. But with all we
had shared it was pretty hard to do.
Then, I noticed she hadn’t pulled away. My now rampant hormones were
screaming in my brain to pull her closer and just let my cock slide another
centimeter against her fantastic ass.
I beat back my impulses. I did nothing. Finally, I felt Seven start to
turn, and I dropped my arms.
She looked at me closely.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“What policy have you set with your spouses regarding copulation outside
of marriage?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think we have one.”
“That is unwise. Kathryn allows me to follow my own discretion, but only
after receiving her explicit permission. Chakotay only requires that I make a
log of each encounter or fantasy.”
“Wow.” Despite everything that had happened on Voyager, we had never
talked about what we might do after we were married. And everyone who had
thrown themselves at me on the Thaddeus Venture were so obvious as to be
annoying.
Seven was still looking at me. “Do you wish to copulate?” She asked.
Of course I did. I think any sentient being with a pulse would want to. Or
not. Pulse optional.
And I know that Tom wouldn’t stop grinning like an idiot for a week.
And B’Elanna...B’Elanna would smile, and she’d be polite, and she’d
never say no...But she would be hurt. It’s not just that I was banging
outside the marriage, it was Seven. I think in some ways she would find that
harder than she would a stranger. She could never think Seven was just a fuck,
she would think of her as a romantic rival. Seven and I had too much history
not to assume as much. And that pain would just sit there and fester until it
exploded, at me or Tom, or who knows. And that might sound unreasonable to
some, but really, commitment isn’t real if you don’t take it seriously.
Our marriage by definition was not one of monogamy, but as I’d explained any
of number of times to my crewmates, that did not mean we didn’t have
boundaries. I wasn’t thinking about anything more serious than a night of
intense fornication, but I don’t know if there wouldn’t be any emotional
repercussions. We’d only been together an hour. Really, I hadn’t been
thinking at all...
Seven’s eyes matched the conflict in my own. I could say yes, and she’d
say yes, and we’d fuck and then there would be hell to pay all round.
“It wouldn’t be right,” I finally said.
“I understand,” she replied.
We stood there for a minute, and then went on to dinner.
Dinner was nice. We talked food, we talked shop. She found the music
fascinating; vaguely Middle Eastern. I learned eight of the 647 rules. I think
I remember five. She only drank a little, but she always drank only a little.
Before I left, I apologized again.
“Such fantasies are only natural,” she said. There wasn’t a trace of
condescension in her voice. I promised to keep in touch, and she went back to
her hotel.
When I beamed back on board, Stovall was already there.
“You’re back early,” I said.
“Gately got stupid at our third bar and we had a visit from the Shore
Patrol. They said we could sleep in our bunks or we could sleep in the brig,
but we had to choose now.”
“Good choice.”
“Yeah, well, being hammered is overrated.”
He was waiting for something. Not him too.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Uhh, about Seven of Nine...”
“Yes?”
“What is it between you two?”
“We spent four years on a ship together trapped on the far side of the
galaxy.”
“I know that. What I mean is...is there anything else?”
I looked him straight in the eye. “Lieutenant. Really. I’m married.”
He looked back. And he could tell I was serious.
“Of course, Lieutenant. I’m sorry.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “That’s okay. Happens all the time.”
He went his way and I went mine. Normally, we’d be bunk near each other,
but I was in the Thaddeus Venture’s low rent district. They offered me
better quarters, of course, but these were in the same location as mine on
Voyager, and it was just easier to remember the route after a long shift.
There was a message waiting for me. It was from Seven.
Publicity Tour Sexual Fantasy Number Two Hundred and
Eighty Six:
I had just completed my professional obligations on Argelius II. Despite
careful planning, I found myself with several unscheduled hours prior to
regeneration. Having heard of the Argelians reputation for pleasure, I chose
to investigate further. Based on later contemplation, it seems likely I was
subconsciously evaluating the possibilities for copulation, either with a
resident or one of its many visitors.
My options were not inspiring. The visitors were either too inebriated or
self-conscious to be suitable candidates. The residents were quite attractive,
particularly the dancers, but were clearly immune to offers from outsiders.
I was thus preparing to return to my hotel when Lt. Harry Kim entered. On
leave, he was in the company of his shipmates. I had not seen Lt. Kim since
the last Voyager reunion more than six months ago. While never outside of
physical parameters for Starfleet personal, Lt. Kim had in the past two years,
gained bulk as he enjoyed a diet greater than emergency rations or Neelix’s
cooking. Now, however, he had regained his former appearance, and while six
kilograms heavier, the difference was entirely muscle mass. The Lieutenant
would later explain that he was ‘trying to keep up with the youngsters.’
Regardless, the final result was quite pleasing to the eye.
My time with Lt. Kim that night produced many conflicting emotions
regarding proper roles and obligations. However, since the theme of this
report is sexual desire, such issues would be counterproductive and are thus
omitted.
Our conversation was mutually illuminating. However, I found my attention
frequently drawn to his hands and lips. I recalled the occasions when he had
used those hands and lips on my body to produce many powerful orgasms. I
became deeply aroused.
I could not tell whether Lt. Kim noticed my condition, but he seemed
equally distracted. A sense of urgency arose. It became more difficult to
think of anything except the need to have Lt. Kim’s penis deep within me. I
considered and dismissed asking the Lieutenant about copulation. While he
would almost certainly say yes, previous experience with such requests
indicated the need to have a specific plan of action in place before
copulation had been decided upon.
It is a statement to the depths of my need that my first consideration was
for copulation within the establishment. Humanoids discourage such activities
unless they themselves are participating. The configuration of the room and my
desire for vigorous movement made covert activities impossible.
My next option was the toilet stalls. I have learned that humans routinely
resort to retasking such compartments when unable to find proper alternatives.
While there was enough room for many sexual positions I might wish to engage
in, other patrons within the club might deduce our intentions. Given Lt.
Kim’s clear difficulty in interacting with his crewmates, such an action
would be highly inappropriate.
Fortunately, Lt. Kim chose to leave our current location and asked that I
select an alternative. My initial thought was a site-to-site transport to Lt.
Kim’s quarters. This, of course, would have also been highly inappropriate,
so I instead suggested a restaurant that had been recommend to me.
The streets were deserted and the weather included extremely low
visibility. As we proceeded to the restaurant, I selected a route which
provided the most opportunities for spontaneous sexual activity, either in a
doorway or in the alley itself. Kathryn believes that ‘variety is the spice
of life,’ and certainly, copulation in an exposed urban environment would be
a new one to experience. I postulated how the masonry would feel against my
skin as I was pressed by Lt. Kim pushing inside me. The rough texture would
likely distract from the pleasure of intercourse, as well be a source of
potential injury. Any oral actions would necessitate one of us to stand as the
other squatted to the appropriate height. I have heard that Kathryn and
Chakotay once copulated in this manner on Deck 14. I regretted never having
the chance to replicate such an encounter. Vaginal intercourse would require
that I braced myself towards a wall as Lt. Kim penetrated me from behind.
Sexual encounters with Lt. Kim always took longer than I predicted. It was
unlikely that we would complete copulation without discovery. I determined
that such a course of action was therefore an unacceptable risk to Lt. Kim’s
career.
The last course of action was my hotel room. Starfleet was unlikely to have
any personnel in the hotel, and I had been assured of the employees’
discretion.
Lt. Kim would be allowed to kiss me in the lift, as well as to
refamiliarize himself with my breasts and posterior. It is the intention of
90% of the men I have encountered, and not displeasurable given the
circumstances.
Once in the hotel room, I would order Lt. Kim to strip. Foreplay would no
longer be required. As soon as Lt. Kim had completed his task, I would force
him onto the bed, where I could place his erect penis in my mouth as soon as
possible. I would remain clothed. I would enjoy the experience of Lt. Kim in
my mouth, as well as the expressions of pleasure he would emit.
When I was satisfied with Lt. Kim’s state of readiness, I would move onto
the bed myself. After moving the hem of my dress over my hips, I would
position myself on my hands and knees. I would then demand that Lt. Kim select
an orifice and begin copulation.
Lt. Kim selects my vagina, and begins powerful thrusts. I achieve the first
of many orgasms shortly thereafter. My desires turn to ones of submission.
As Lt. Kim continues his efforts, I sense his own ejaculation near. To
prolong the encounter, I pull away from the Lieutenant, allowing his penis to
slide out of my vagina. The Lieutenant seems confused, especially when I then
demand that he use me however he sees fit.
Lt. Kim hesitates, considering his options.
Still on my haunches, Lt. Kim grabs me around the waist before inserting
his fingers into my vagina. He would manipulate my vagina and clitoris to
orgasm again. Lt. Kim flips me onto my back before tearing open my dress,
exposing my breasts for the first time.
Lt. Kim would lick and suck each nipple in turn, kneading the opposing
breast with his free hand. This would be followed by long slow kisses tracing
a path down from my chest, over my abdomen and thighs, before moving back and
settling between my legs. Lt. Kim’s oral skills are all that I remembered
them to be, and he rapidly brings me to another orgasm.
Afterwards, Lt. Kim would take me in his arms and kissed me deeply. I taste
my own vaginal secretions on his lips. We would kiss for some time.
Involuntarily, I find that I had wrapped one hand around his penis and begun
stroking.
Before he again had an opportunity to ejaculate, Lt. Kim would remove my
hand, taking a moment to steady himself before reinserting his penis. We
copulate for more than twenty minutes, my back pressed into the bedspread, Lt.
Kim’s gaze never leaving mine. His eventual orgasm would be very powerful,
and trigger another in me as well.
Finally, Lt. Kim would collapse into my arms, and we would remain in that
state for some while. I do not know how long. I discover I have lost all sense
of time.
As he finally stirs, Lt. Kim asked if I was satisfied.
“No,” I reply. “I still require anal penetration.”
These thoughts had caused me to pause in my progress through the alleyways.
Lt. Kim bumped into me, and I felt his large erection press into me. I was
overwhelmed with the notion of that penis being thrust into my anus. It was
clear that the time had come to determine whether copulation was to occur. Lt.
Kim ultimately declined, and I agree with his reasons. We proceeded on to
dinner, by the end of which Lt. Kim’s erection had passed.
Upon my return to my hotel room, I masturbated quickly with the cast of
Chakotay’s penis Kathryn provided for my last birthday. As I record this, it
remains inserted in my vagina. I expect that Lt. Kim will also masturbate upon
reading this. After I transmit this report, I will resume masturbating, using
the cast and the thought of Lt. Kim ejaculating in his quarters.
Well of course I jacked off as soon as I read it.
Afterwards, I cleaned up and put a call into Tom and B’Elanna. A bleary
eyed B’Elanna answered. Starfleet runs on San Francisco time, so two in the
morning here is two in the morning there.
“Harry,” she fumbled, rubbing her eyes. “What is it, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t know...I should call back in the
morning.”
That was a mistake. Once having woken her up, I should have enough courage
to follow through. B’Elanna went from being tired to being irritated.
“What do you want, Harry?”
I was going to ask where Tom was, but knew that would only but fuel on the
fire.
“I bumped into Seven today.”
“Oh.”
“She asked if I wanted to have sex. I said no.”
“Oh.”
B’Elanna thought it over. “You know you could have.”
“I know.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiled. “You’re so Starfleet.”
“I know.”
“Tom’s never going to let you hear the end of it.”
“I know, I know.”
“I mean that’s one sweet piece of ass.”
“Yes, she is,” I replied. “She sent me a log of her fantasy.”
“I’m sure.”
“Would you like to read it?”
“No. But send it anyway. Tom will want to.”
“Okay.”
There was a pause. B’Elanna looked like she hadn’t really slept in a
while. I’d missed all the mischief Miral had been up to, but it was clear I
wasn’t the only person waking her up at night.
“We miss you,” she finally said. “I miss you.”
She did. “I know”, I replied.
A twinkle came to her eyes. “At least tell me that you jacked off.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“I thought so. I can always tell. It’s that look you get.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s not as good as the look you get after real sex, but it’s
still kind of hot.”
“I didn’t know.”
She shifted in her seat. If we weren’t separated by hundreds of light
years, I think she’d of made a move.
“So, what was your plan?”
Sometimes she knew just what to say.
“I didn’t have a plan,” I said. “But it was foggy, and there were
these alleys.”
B’Elanna laughed. “Wow, alley sex. You know, I’ve seen some great
alleys.”
“Have you.”
“Oh, yes. And San Francisco can get really foggy...”
We talked for a while longer. Then Miral woke up and B’Elanna had to go.
I went to bed, and was asleep a half hour later.
The next day I tried to contact Seven, but I found she’d checked out. Her
exasperated publicist explained that she had cancelled her tour and booked the
first flight back to Earth. It took some doing, but I found the ship she’d
left on. She looked tired. I told her so.
“You look tired.”
“My attempts at regeneration were inadequate.”
“I apologize if I caused you any distress.”
“Apologies are unnecessary. It has become apparent that I have been away
from Earth too long.”
“When did you leave?” I asked.
“Two weeks ago.”
“You wrote two hundred and eighty six fantasies in two weeks?”
“Most were not so elaborate. As I said, I have been away too long.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“I must thank you, Lieutenant. Our meeting has given me a greater
appreciation for Voyager’s experience in the Delta Quadrant. I believed no
isolation could be greater than being disconnected from the Collective. I was
in error.”
“You’re very kind.”
The conversation petered out from there. We eventually said our goodbyes,
and I got ready for another day of doing nothing.
Cobb was looking worse for wear when I met him the Mess. “Alcohol,” he
said, “Is highly overrated.”
“Yeah, that’s what Harvey said.” Stovall’s first name was Harvey,
right?
Cobb looked at me. I thought maybe I had gotten it wrong but then he
continued. “We heard about these caves in the Southern Continent. You want
to go spelunking? I feel like staying away from bright lights.”
“Sure...Joe. I think that would be a fine idea.”
And by the time we get back, Tom should be home.