WHO'S KISSING
CAPTAIN KIRK?
"There! Look!"
Chekov grabbed
Uhura's arm and yanked so hard that she almost dropped the souvenir
snow globe of the Midderth tourist town that they were visiting.
"What?" Uhura sounded more annoyed than curious.
"There!" Chekov
pointed
through the marketplace crowd. "There goes Captain Kirk with his arm
around a beautiful blonde." Chekov sighed. I told you he
wasn't
gay." Smug contentment dripped from every pore.
Uhura focused her
gaze to see
a great mass of improbably blonde hair, only partially tied back, over
the heads of the majority. Beneath it, a copious hem of billowing
fabric disappeared lithely amid the legs of the shoppers.
"Are you sure that was Captain Kirk if you only saw the back of them?"
Uhura sounded doubtful.
"Of course," Chekov insisted. "In his green uniform shirt. And I would
know that backside anywhere."
Uhura did a double take and stared at him hard.
"Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm just being observant, like Mr.
Spock says a good officer should."
"Sulu did say that Janice was stationed here." Uhura mused out loud. "I
suppose he could be meeting up with her."
"Old girlfriend?"
"Business: his
old yeoman. And
anyway, even if it isn't, being out with a girl doesn't mean he wants
to have sex with her. Christine and I go out all the time."
Chekov's eyes
widened and he
clutched his heart in inane melodrama. "Oh, Ninotchka, don't give me
ideas like that. I could have a stroke! My poor little brain is on
overload."
Uhura slapped his hand. "Don't worry. Your poor little brain has had so
little usage, so far it'll be just fine."
Chekov perked up.
"But
seriously, if you ever had the inclination to bring home another vomen,
please remember I am most willing to--
"Come on! They're moving." Chekov tugged her by the arm and pulled her
though the lane.
"Where are we going?" Uhura asked as they wove through the mass of
bodies.
"To see who she is."
"Oh no." Uhura
planted her
boots dead in her tracks. "Spying isn't nice. The captain deserves a
little privacy. It's his leave too."
"Ninotchka, you
can't bait me
with suggestions that the captain is gay, and then just expect me to
drop it. That man is my personal hero and need to know if he is doing
something tawdry, sweaty, and indecent with her. I need to cheer him
on."
Uhura's lovely face crinkled. "Pavel, that's terrible. Why does it
matter who--?"
"I'll bet you another bottle."
"You're on."
They dashed off together through the market.
The lane emptied
out at a row
of shops and one questionable looking bar: The Rainbow Ends. Shopping
or drinking? They both knew their captain well enough not to have to
guess where he would be.
Chekov pushed in
first to a
multitude of appreciative stares, to which he was largely oblivious. He
made a beeline for the bartender. "Did you see a man in a uniform come
in here?"
The bartender
scoffed. "Look
around, sweetie." Chekov did. Indeed, there were so many men in
military, paramilitary and police replica uniforms that it looked like
an inter-galactic Village People reunion.
Chekov turned back to the bar. "This one was with a tall blonde." He
made a wavy gesture with his two hands.
"Ah, yes." The
bartender
whistled. "Now them, I noticed. You're not the only ones in here hoping
that they wanted company. But they took a private room."
Chekov gloated in
Uhura's
direction. "You hear that? A *private* room for business with an
ex-yeoman. Maybe he needs help with the 'Keptain's log.'"
Uhura rolled her eyes.
The bartender
shrugged. "I
don't ask as long as they pay. For what it's worth, from the looks of
them, I don't imagine they'll take very long. Get you anything while
you wait?"
"Stoli." Chekov
slid onto a
stool with an ear to ear grin. "Better still, make it a double." He
motioned to Uhura, "and put it on her tab."
In the back room,
Kirk's hand
slid under his lover's tunic. Even in the semi-dark, his smooth
lustrous hair still shimmered as he tossed back his head and gasped.
He sighed into
the braid at
the shoulder of Kirk's green shirt. "A race as long-lived as mine is
used to waiting, but if I had had to wait another moment for your
touch, I would have lost all reason and and all control."
Kirk chuckled and
massaged the
lean lines of the chest with one hand. With the other hand he ran
through silken strands of hair. "I'm sorry about the run around," he
said. "It's not because of you, you know. I won't have prejudice on my
ship not for race or gender, but command grade officers need to appear
invulnerable--without human weaknesses or needs. Lowering lips to one
pointed ear he murmured, "And around you like this, I my need is too
obvious." He nibbled the
graceful point and sucked, as his lover squirmed in his embrace.
"Jim, please. I burn for you." His voice was low and hungry now. "Kiss
me now before I go utterly mad."
Always happy to serve those in need, Jim kirk pulled his love in close
and complied.
"Well," Kirk asked when they finally broke apart. "Was it worth the
wait?"
A fine woven
cloak dropped to
the sofa and with superhuman grace, he pulled his tunic over his head
and shook his long, blond hair back behind his shoulders. "Better,
Captain. Better than I had hoped. For although I loved Gimli dearly,
his beard was a perpetual abrasive and an anathema to my senses. I am
pleased it will not be a problem here." Cupping Kirk's chin in long
fingers, he kissed him tenderly
again.