Anniversary Waltz Chapter Four Rating - R
Title: Anniversary Waltz (4/?)
Rating: R (mature)
Characters/Pairing: Kirk/Uhura
Disclaimer: Characters and canon belong to Paramount, Roddenberry, Abrams and many others but not me. All rights reserved. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is made by the author.
Summary: One year prior, the Enterprise had shipped out for its first mission under the official command of James T. Kirk and the young captain had deemed it a day worthy of recognition
Please note the change in rating on this chapter.
Chapter Four
They did not skulk about planning clandestine trysts, but neither did they broadcast the change in their relationship.
“This - whatever this is - is private and I would like to keep it that way,” she had told him.
Knowing that she had been uncomfortable with the speculative looks during her brief romance with Spock and fully aware that their relationship would draw even more scrutiny, he acquiesced. It did not escape him that she held doubts as to the longevity of their relationship and was unwilling to suffer the looks from prying eyes should things not work out between them.
- - - - - - -
Kirk leaned against the edge of the bar in one of the recreational lounges, listening with ill-concealed humor as Spock and Bones entered into one of their long-standing debates when he saw her approach.
“Shot of Jack,” Uhura ordered.
He raised a hand to signal the bartender. “Her drink’s on me.”
“Her drink’s on her,” she corrected and carefully controlled the smile quivering near the corner of her mouth. The words tripped off her lips with familiar ease and he grinned in recognition, clapping a hand over his heart.
“Come on, Uhura. Cut a guy a break. I’m just trying to have a conversation with you.”
She rolled her eyes, working hard to maintain a bored expression.
“I know I don’t have a chance with you, but can’t we at least talk?” He shifted closer. “I just want to hear an angel speak.”
Her only response was a long-suffering sigh and a mock-pleading look at the others who were listening in with obvious amusement. They laughed appreciatively, seeing only the familiar thrust and parry of the captain’s obviously over-the-top flirtations and Uhura’s pointed lack of interest. No one recognized the barely disguised mirth of a couple who understood the subtext of the inside jokes bouncing back and forth between them.
Kirk lobbed a few more increasingly bad come-on lines her way and she effortlessly swatted them aside to the delight of their audience. Enjoying the quick-witted exchange, she leaned back, bracing both elbows on the bar, her body language unconsciously inviting. He moved nearer and as they kept up their lively banter, neither of them noticed Bones’ eyes narrow with suspicion, nor the speculative lift of Spock’s brow.
Though the captain kept a carefully respectful distance between them, her easy and open acceptance of his proximity was suddenly obvious to the two who knew them best.
- - - - - - -
The doors had barely hissed closed behind them when she made her move, leaping up and wrapping her arms and legs around him. Caught off guard, he staggered and they tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs. He twisted his body to take the brunt of the fall and she laughed as she pushed herself up. Shifting quickly, she straddled him, locking her fingers around his wrists and pinning his arms above his head.
“Now I’ve got you where I want you,” she told him. “Don’t struggle. You’ll only make things worse.”
“Please be gentle.” The impatient thrust of his hips beneath hers belied the feigned note of fear in his voice. She snickered and leaned down to press her mouth to his.
Uhura was a serious woman used to serious relationships with serious-minded men and had always before found those relationships to be physically and emotionally fulfilling.
But as she sank into the laughing kiss, she realized for the first time that a love affair could be both serious and fun.
The flavor of the kiss changed, intensifying, and she could feel his heart hammering against the wall of his chest. She released his wrists, her fingers fumbling clumsily with the closure of his jeans as he impatiently pushed the hem of her skirt over her hips, tearing away the silky scrap of fabric that separated them with a twist of his hands.
The breath stuttered out of her lungs as she took him deep inside her. Sitting up, she tossed her head, flinging the curtain of her hair over one shoulder. She smiled, enjoying the dominant position. Suddenly a playful expression came over her face and bracing her hands on either side of his head, she leaned forward.
“So, tell me.” Her breath feathered over his lips. “What’s a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?”
His eyes widened and a delighted grin slashed over his face.
“Oh,” he groaned. “That is the granddaddy of cheesy lines.”
She laughed out loud, thrilled to have put the look of amused pleasure on his face. Her laughter vibrated through her body, pulsed around his, drawing from him a sudden gasp.
“God!” A long, low groan escaped him. “Do that again.”
“Do what?” she murmured, rubbing her lips teasingly over his.
“Laugh.”
She braced her hands on his shoulders and her brows drew together in a confused frown.
“What? Why?” she asked curiously.
“Because it feels amazing.”
“You’re weird,” she decided.
“No I’m not. Come on…”
“I can’t just laugh on demand,” she told him, exasperation creeping into her voice, followed quickly by a note of panic. “Don’t you dare!” She grabbed his hands just as he was about to drill tickling fingers into her ribs. “Don’t!”
He surrendered, flopping back down beneath her. “Okay. Okay. I’ll stop.” He freed a hand and wrapped it around the back of her head, drawing her down for another leisurely kiss. Dragging his lips from hers, his mouth trailed a heated path over the line of her jaw. She tipped her head to one side, her eyes fluttering closed as his tongue painted idle patterns over the vein pulsing in her throat. His warm mouth latched onto the flesh just above the notch of her collarbone. Suckled. She shivered and then let out an ear-piercing shriek when he blew a fat, wet raspberry against her skin.
Writhing, gasping with laughter, she struggled to get away but his hands were as firmly clamped on her hips as his mouth was latched to her tender flesh. He rolled, pinning her beneath him.
Panting, breathless with laughter, she looked up into his grinning face. A giggle escaped her and he let out an exaggerated groan.
“Oh, yeah. That’s the way.”
“You’re nuts.” She scratched her fingers through his hair in a gesture of exasperated affection.
“Yeah, but you love it,” he said with a lazy thrust of his hips.
Smiling, she twined her arms around his neck and drew him into another kiss and the air in his quarters was filled with the sound of happy laughter and muted sighs.
- - - - - - -
Loose and limber after an hour of swimming laps - by turns in cheerful competition and leisurely companionship - Nyota and Christine Chapel chatted amiably about their dinner plans as they exited the locker room. The muffled sounds of shouted expletives and raucous male laughter caught their attention and they moved as one to sate their curiosity. Doors hissed open at their approach and they stepped inside one of the half dozen playing courts situated in the fitness facility.
“What are they playing?” Christine asked.
“It looks like springball, but…”
“No. Springball is played by two opponents,” Christine objected.
Uhura nodded, brows knit in confusion as she watched four men roughly jostling each other about. The squeaking sounds of their athletic shoes against the highly polished floor of the court competed with the good-natured insults and advice being offered by the remaining men standing along the sidelines. She studied the players closely and let out a sigh as understanding dawned.
“Of course,” she muttered.
“What?” the other woman asked curiously.
Nyota gestured toward the players as they pushed and shoved one another on the court. “He’s never happy playing by the rules.” She pointed toward the captain who was grappling with another player. Bare-chested, his fair hair darkened with sweat, he body-checked the other player to block his shot and hooted with glee as his teammate stole the ball and slammed it into the target on the wall. “Why play one-on-one when you can double the fun?”
“And double the odds of having your teeth rattled loose.” The medical professional in Christine winced as the four men pummeled one another in an effort to gain control the ball. “As if springball isn’t a rough enough game when there are only two players.” She grimaced as Kirk let out a vicious string of oaths when one of his opponents planted an elbow firmly into the captain’s ribs, disrupting his shot and sending it bouncing off one of the foul zones.
Kirk spun away, catching the ball as it caromed back at the players. His gloved hand flashed out and smashed the ball into the oval target. His arms lifted reflexively over his head in celebration and he was caught off balance as the other team moved as one, driving their shoulders into him in an effort to block him from regaining control of the ball as it ricocheted back toward them. His feet tangled with one of theirs, flying out from under him and he fell, smacking his head hard against the floor.
Uhura gasped, instinctively moving toward the fallen man. She checked herself back into place when she saw him reach up to grab the helping hand extended toward him. He popped back to his feet with a good-natured laugh. Waving off the other man’s horrified apology, Kirk glanced up at the monitor displaying the score, clapped a hand on his subordinate’s shoulder and cheerfully congratulated him and his teammate on their win.
“Great game,” he told them. “But we demand a rematch.” He glanced over his shoulder at his teammate and offered him a grinning wink. “Don’t we?”
The other man shook his head. “Not today.” He winced theatrically and stretched aching muscles. Kirk’s laughter boomed out in response.
“A week from today, then.” He stabbed a challenging finger at the opposing team.
“Same prize?” one of the men asked.
Kirk grinned and nodded. “Losing team buys the beer. He snatched up a towel and ran it over his face. “I’ve got a dinner meeting in an hour, so I can’t make it today. But first round’s still on me. Have them put it on my tab. Second round’s on this guy.” He waggled a thumb at his teammate.
He stood at the center of the group, laughing as the men exchanged sly insults and packed up their gear. Slinging the towel around his neck, he picked up a water bottle and tipped his head back for a long drink. Lowering the bottle, he caught sight of the two women standing near the door. He moved toward them, a happy smile wreathing his face.
“Ladies.” He greeted them both, though his gaze lingered on Nyota’s face. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to see the spectacular move that cost you the game,” Uhura sassed tartly.
He winced and rubbed his fingers over the tender spot on the back of his head. “Luckily for me I have a thick skull.” He shot her an engaging smile - all laughing summer blue eyes and tousled gold hair - and she could not help but grin in response.
Christine stood quietly, a fascinated spectator to the unspoken conversation between the two.
Kirk reached out and gave Uhura’s damp ponytail a chastising tug.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been playing,” he commented, fingers toying idly with the ends of her hair. “Who won?”
“Not everything is a competition,” Nyota responded with a lofty tone and upturned nose. “Women understand the simple benefits of friendship combined with physical exercise.”
“So. You beat her.” He grinned at Christine.
The nurse casually studied her manicure and affected a bored tone. “Only four of six races.” She shrugged and looked up to meet his smile with one of her own.
“But who’s counting, right?” He barked out a laugh.
Nyota pushed her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout before joining in their laughter.
“We have dinner plans,” Uhura finally told him as she adjusted the strap of her gym bag on her shoulder. “And I believe you have a meeting.”
“Duty calls,” he sighed sadly. “If you’ll excuse me.” He bade them farewell, then jogged across the court to gather up his belongings before heading to the showers.
The two women exited the fitness facility.
“I know we were talking about just grabbing a bite in the officer’s lounge,” Christine said as they walked through the corridor toward the turbolift. “But why don’t we eat in my quarters?” she suggested, dying now to get her friend alone. “It’ll be more comfortable.”
“That sounds good,” Nyota agreed. “Give me thirty minutes to get cleaned up and I’ll meet you there.”
“Perfect.” They exited the lift on the level that housed the officer’s quarters. “Bring dessert!” Christine called out as they separated.
- - - - - - -
“Ahhh.” Christine moaned happily as the first spoonful of silky mousse slid over her tongue. She and Nyota had chatted amiably over the salads she had ordered in deference to the decadent dessert offering she knew her friend would bring.
Nyota smiled and spooned up a stingy amount of chocolate from her own bowl in an effort to make it last longer.
Christine sighed and settled more comfortably into her chair and studied her friend. Uhura’s long legs were draped over one arm of her chair, her head resting on the other. The picture of relaxation, she had closed her eyes and was lazily waving her spoon around in time to a song she was softly humming under her breath.
“So… you and the captain, huh?”
The humming stopped abruptly and Nyota’s eyes popped open as her head whipped towards her friend. Christine delicately lapped up another bit of chocolate. The innocent expression on her face was belied by the gleeful dancing of her blue eyes.
“Is it a big secret?” the head nurse asked. “Because if so you should tell the captain to stop looking at you the way he did a little while ago.”
“The captain looks at every woman,” Nyota said with a dismissive flick of her spoon.
“Not anymore,” Christine countered. “Not since he’s taken command.” She curled her legs beneath her. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to,” she said in a serious tone. “But if you do want to talk, I just want you to know that I can keep a confidence.”
“It’s not a secret exactly…” Nyota swirled her spoon through her dessert, moodily tracing patterns in the chocolate. “It’s just… private.”
“Okay,” Christine acknowledged quietly. “I won’t bring it up again.”
Silence reigned as both women devoted themselves to their desserts.
“Um… just for the sake of curiosity. How did he look at me?”
A smile bloomed over Christine’s face. She hastily swallowed the last bit of chocolate and set the bowl aside.
“Like he was lit up from within at the sight of you.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” Christine took note of the flush that stained her friend’s cheeks with a rosy undertone and the smile that flirted with the edges of her mouth.
“I also noted that it wasn’t just the captain doing the looking,” Christine commented, grinning as her friend’s mouth opened and closed on an aborted objection.
“Of course, he is gorgeous,” the blonde continued on a breathy sigh. “You’d have to be made of stone not to want to look.” She laughed as Nyota’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“It’s actually kind of obvious once you know to look,” Christine said. “How long has it been going on?”
“A couple of months,” Nyota admitted in a studiously casual tone.
“Is it serious?”
“No! Of course not.” Frowning at her friend, she sat up.
“Hmm,” Christine speculated. “If you say so. But I know what I saw.”
“And what exactly was that?” Nyota asked sharply.
All hints of teasing fled from Christine’s expression.
“Well, first of all, I saw your reaction when he fell…”
“Oh, come on,” Nyota objected. “It was pure instinct. He could have been injured. Anyone would have -”
“But nobody else did.” Christine rolled on, ignoring her friend’s objections. “I’m a nurse and even I didn’t react the way you did. And I noticed that your attention was on him - and only him - the entire time we were standing there. And the way he could barely drag his eyes away from you to speak with me.”
“Oh, come on, Christine.”
“And that’s not all.”
“No?” Nyota let out a long-suffering sigh as if to convey how ridiculous she found the entire line of conversation.
“No. What clinched it for me was the way he grabbed your ponytail.”
Nyota laughed.
“You can roll your eyes all you want, Ny, but there was an implied intimacy and familiarity with the way he played with your hair. And more to the point, I noticed that you did not slap his hand away. As a matter-of-fact, now that I think about it, you were flirting with him the entire time.”
“I’ve already admitted that we’re sleeping together,” Nyota huffed. “But from one five minute conversation, you now think that we’re in some serious relationship?”
“No. I think that because you’re trying so hard to deny it.”
Nyota gnawed on a thumbnail and did not respond.
“Talk to me, Nyota. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I just think you’re trying to make a bigger deal of this than it actually is.” Nyota grimaced, her objection sounding weak even to her own ears.
Christine tilted her head. “What are you afraid of?” she prodded softly.
“I don’t know.” Nyota wrapped her arms around her legs and drew her knees to her chest. “Until just now, I would have said nothing.” She pressed her forehead to her knees. “But you’re sitting here talking about the way he looks at me - and worse! About the way I look back.”
Christine wisely bit back an amused grin at the aggrieved tone of her friend’s muffled voice.
“Now suddenly, it’s all too real.” Nyota whispered.
All traces of amusement vanished from Christine’s face as her heart clenched at the look of pure misery etched on Nyota’s features.
“Why is that so upsetting to you?”
“I don’t know.” Nyota’s shoulders moved in an ill-tempered shrug.
“He confuses you.”
“Yes.”
“In what way? Curious sympathy tinged Christine’s voice.
“There are so many more layers to him than I ever knew,” Nyota admitted. “But every time he reveals another part of himself, I feel myself getting sucked deeper into his orbit-” Her voice trailed off.
“You’re not in control,” Christine noted sagely.
Relief flashed in Nyota’s eyes as her friend put words to the feelings she was unable to give voice to.
“Yes.”
Christine made a humming sound in her throat. “I can see where that’s a problem. You’re a bit of a control freak, Ny.” She smiled to take the sting out of her observation.
“I know,” Nyota moaned and buried her face in her knees again. “I never expected this to last as long as it has,” she confessed in a muffled voice. “I just thought we’d have a little bit of fun together and then part as friends. I never thought…”
“Never thought…?” Christine prodded.
“What if it ends badly?” Nyota raised worried eyes to meet her friend’s. “I’m risking everything,” she whispered. “What if we can’t even bear to be around the other? I’m not only risking the personal, Christine. My career’s at stake too. I’m risking a position as the chief communications officer on the fleet’s flagship. It’s crazy!”
“Do you want my advice?” Christine stretched out a hand, touching her fingers to the other woman’s.
“Yes,” Nyota pleaded fervently.
“You’re overthinking it.”
“That’s it? That’s your idea of advice?” “Nyota asked with a nerve-tinged laugh.
“Look, I think you should just enjoy the ride,” Christine advised. “Maybe it will turn out to be more than you ever dreamed it could be. Or maybe in the end you’ll get hurt.”
“Or maybe I’ll hurt him.” Nyota worriedly gnawed on her lower lip.
“Maybe,” the other woman agreed. “But those are all just possibilities. Don’t borrow trouble.” She shrugged and smiled slyly. “And in the meantime you’re having a love affair with an attractive, charismatic man - one who is too smart to spite himself by getting rid of the best communications officer in the fleet - no matter what the reason. And if the gleam in your eye this afternoon is any indication, he’s a guy who has been showing you a hell of a good time. What’s not to enjoy?”
Flopping back in her chair, she settled herself more comfortably. “Now,” she grinned. “I’ve been a good friend. I’ve listened to your tale of woe and offered sage advice. I want my reward. Tell me… what’s he like in private?” She waggled her brows. “And, please. Don’t feel like you have to hold back on the details.”
TBC
A/N: I’ve always had a basic outline for this story in my head but a nasty case of writer’s block is making it a pure struggle to translate “in my head” to “on the page”. I do promise to try my very best to finish it. Frankly, I’d like it out of my head…