CHALLENGE FLUFF RESPONSE: Beach Patrol
TITLE: BEACH PATROL
AUTHOR: ncruuk
CHALLENGER: ralst
FANDOM & PAIRING: ST-V, B/7 (the things I do for you ralst...the things I do ;-) )
DISCLAIMERS: Not mine, no money, just some fluffy fun.....
Enjoy.....(challenge at bottom of fic, in case you don't guess)
"Seven?" Curious, the stocky Klingon woman carefully crossed the beach to what she hoped was a reasonably amenable Seven of Nine, although from the rear, it was impossible to tell.
"Lieutenant Torres," acknowledged Seven, refraining from turning round or removing any facet of her formidable concentration from the small object in her hands.
"Can I, uh, assist you in any way?" asked B'Elanna, now near enough to her good friend to recognise that she was in a state of confusion, a state that often saw her react better to the standard phrasings favoured by the Borg.
"I am uncertain. Is this within your field of expertise?" asked Seven, thrusting what was contained in her hands towards the bikini clad engineer without looking at her.
Somewhat startled at the abruptness of the gesture, B'Elanna wasn't entirely sure what Seven was chucking at her. Mindful of previous disasters with the former Borg, B'Elanna quickly dug her bare feet into the warm sand and assumed a braced stance, ready to receive anything of any weight into her stomach, which was roughly where Seven was aiming. To her utmost surprise, it wasn't something dense, metallic and angular which brushed against her toned stomach, but rather the opposite.
Opening out her hand, B'Elanna found herself looking at a rather small fistful of bright blue triangles, with some strings of various lengths, made from the same material. Shaking her head in amazement, B'Elanna untangled the mess and held it between two fingers.
"Where did you get this Seven?" she asked kindly, recognising the garment immediately.
"From the database. I inputted the parameters I was given and the replicator created that. I do not understand."
"No, I'm sure..." murmured B'Elanna, eying up the skimpy garment skeptically. Deciding it was safe to 'crowd' Seven, B'Elanna walked around so that she was in front of the confused ex-Borg.
"Sweetheart? Where did you get the parameters from?" asked B'Elanna quietly, trying first not to laugh at Seven's stubborn and confused expression, and then trying not to preen at the fleeting flash of lust that crossed the blonde's face when she saw the Klingon's bikini.
"The Doctor advised I research beachwear. I was going to 'surprise' you."
"What parameters did you input?"
"My bio-print, specifying the climate and physical landscape parameters of our destination and a preference to discard trunks," stated Seven clearly.
"Why discard trunks?" asked B'Elanna, now recognising the problem.
"My research indicated those were items worn by men. I am not male. It should have returned an adequate garment, instead I find I have two triangles and some lengths of cord!"
"Sweetheart, it's the top of a bikini...." explained B'Elanna patiently, guiding her dazed lover back to the shuttle so that a replicator could be used to rectify the situation.
"Top?" Seven was confused.
"A Bikini is what I'm wearing sweetheart, and you've got the top half. The parameter for discard trunks made the computer not produce the bottom part of the suit," explained B'Elanna carefully.
"So you mean that item is correct?"
"Yes"
"I see." Before B'Elanna could react, Seven had removed her bio suit to reveal an identical bikini top.
"I did not wish to remove my suit until I had established it was correct. That was my second attempt in case of computer malfunction. Now I know it is correct, I will rectify my appearance."
It was only by virtue of B'Elanna's heightened Klingon senses that she realised what Seven was about to do, enabling her to yell
"Seven, wait!"
"You do not wish me to wear this 'bikini' in the presence of others?" she asked, confused once more.
"Seven, I'd love you to wear that bikini right now, for the whole world to see....but not until you've got some bottoms to wear with it!"
CHALLENGE: B'Elanna/Seven (Voyager), planet side, swimming trunks
AUTHOR: ncruuk
CHALLENGER: ralst
FANDOM & PAIRING: ST-V, B/7 (the things I do for you ralst...the things I do ;-) )
DISCLAIMERS: Not mine, no money, just some fluffy fun.....
Enjoy.....(challenge at bottom of fic, in case you don't guess)
"Seven?" Curious, the stocky Klingon woman carefully crossed the beach to what she hoped was a reasonably amenable Seven of Nine, although from the rear, it was impossible to tell.
"Lieutenant Torres," acknowledged Seven, refraining from turning round or removing any facet of her formidable concentration from the small object in her hands.
"Can I, uh, assist you in any way?" asked B'Elanna, now near enough to her good friend to recognise that she was in a state of confusion, a state that often saw her react better to the standard phrasings favoured by the Borg.
"I am uncertain. Is this within your field of expertise?" asked Seven, thrusting what was contained in her hands towards the bikini clad engineer without looking at her.
Somewhat startled at the abruptness of the gesture, B'Elanna wasn't entirely sure what Seven was chucking at her. Mindful of previous disasters with the former Borg, B'Elanna quickly dug her bare feet into the warm sand and assumed a braced stance, ready to receive anything of any weight into her stomach, which was roughly where Seven was aiming. To her utmost surprise, it wasn't something dense, metallic and angular which brushed against her toned stomach, but rather the opposite.
Opening out her hand, B'Elanna found herself looking at a rather small fistful of bright blue triangles, with some strings of various lengths, made from the same material. Shaking her head in amazement, B'Elanna untangled the mess and held it between two fingers.
"Where did you get this Seven?" she asked kindly, recognising the garment immediately.
"From the database. I inputted the parameters I was given and the replicator created that. I do not understand."
"No, I'm sure..." murmured B'Elanna, eying up the skimpy garment skeptically. Deciding it was safe to 'crowd' Seven, B'Elanna walked around so that she was in front of the confused ex-Borg.
"Sweetheart? Where did you get the parameters from?" asked B'Elanna quietly, trying first not to laugh at Seven's stubborn and confused expression, and then trying not to preen at the fleeting flash of lust that crossed the blonde's face when she saw the Klingon's bikini.
"The Doctor advised I research beachwear. I was going to 'surprise' you."
"What parameters did you input?"
"My bio-print, specifying the climate and physical landscape parameters of our destination and a preference to discard trunks," stated Seven clearly.
"Why discard trunks?" asked B'Elanna, now recognising the problem.
"My research indicated those were items worn by men. I am not male. It should have returned an adequate garment, instead I find I have two triangles and some lengths of cord!"
"Sweetheart, it's the top of a bikini...." explained B'Elanna patiently, guiding her dazed lover back to the shuttle so that a replicator could be used to rectify the situation.
"Top?" Seven was confused.
"A Bikini is what I'm wearing sweetheart, and you've got the top half. The parameter for discard trunks made the computer not produce the bottom part of the suit," explained B'Elanna carefully.
"So you mean that item is correct?"
"Yes"
"I see." Before B'Elanna could react, Seven had removed her bio suit to reveal an identical bikini top.
"I did not wish to remove my suit until I had established it was correct. That was my second attempt in case of computer malfunction. Now I know it is correct, I will rectify my appearance."
It was only by virtue of B'Elanna's heightened Klingon senses that she realised what Seven was about to do, enabling her to yell
"Seven, wait!"
"You do not wish me to wear this 'bikini' in the presence of others?" she asked, confused once more.
"Seven, I'd love you to wear that bikini right now, for the whole world to see....but not until you've got some bottoms to wear with it!"
CHALLENGE: B'Elanna/Seven (Voyager), planet side, swimming trunks