bridge2sickbay drabbles 2010-09-26
As I'm on vacation, I had time to drabble for the first time in ages.
Pike/Number One - Foot Rest
"These boots kill me," Number One says and heavily sits down on their bed, stretching her legs into the room. The tall heels scratch along the carpet, leaving a small trail of flattened fibers.
"But they look fabulous," Chris says. "Really adorable."
"Oh yes? Maybe you should wear them next time we attend a reception," Number One grouses.
"They'd never look as good on me as they look on you." Not thinking of the damage it could cause on his expensive attire, he kneels down in front of her, capturing her feet with his hands. "I meant it when I said adorable." Attempting to underline his point, he lifts them up until the soles of the boots rest against his chest, his hands supporting the heels.
"Oh," she says, the displeased frown quickly dispelled by enlightenment. "You - really like these?"
"Yes," he says and lifts them even higher, until his lips are close to the heels' points.
"You will not kiss these dirty soles," she says sharply and pulls her feet away. "Stay put and wait." She stomps into the bathroom, not returning for a while. Unsure what to do, but inclined to follow her orders for the time being, Chris strips out of his jacket and removes his tie, putting them aside as far as he can while still on his knees. He's horny and hard, and really hopes that her mood will be compatible to his.
When the door to the bathroom opens, his worries vanish in the blink of an eye - she's in the nude, stripped of everything aside the boots, whose fresh polish shines in the light of the room. Like a goddess she sails in on her high heels and sinks down on the bed, pushing the boots' soles against his white silk shirt.
"Close your mouth, Chris," she admonishes him, "you look really stupid like that. And then show me how much you like my shoes."
Leaning down on one elbow, she cups her sex with her other hand. "And if you're good, maybe you'll get more than that. Maybe."
His hands on her inner thighs and his lips on the leather, he sets out to perform a great show, his reward already in sight.
Pike/McCoy - Bubble wrap
"What's that?" McCoy asks from his slightly strained position, wrists tied up high, legs slightly spread with ankles secured on the floor.
"Just making sure you won't break," Pike says with a smirk while wrapping something around McCoy's naked hips.
"Huh?"
"You said you don't want to be wrapped in cotton wool. I don't know where you picked up that peculiar idiom but it made me think…"
"Learned it from a schoolfriend of mine," McCoy says. "In any case, I was only kidding, okay? I don't need to be handled with kids gloves."
"Oh, I know that you don't like a whipping as much as I do, so I thought I'd protect you a little better."
"With cotton?" McCoy stares down his body, trying to discern what's going on in the low lights of the dungeon.
"No," Pike says and grins while securing the material with silver tapes. "Bubble wrap."
"Uh uh…" McCoy mutters, feeling suddenly more humiliated than ever as Pike pats his ass, which makes the wrap squeal protectively.
"Now, let's see if I can get some of those bubbles break," Pike says and takes out the signal whip.
McCoy holds his breath as it cracks close to his ear, but relaxes as the whip's usually sharp impact gets nicely buffered by the wrap - at least until its end snaps around his hip, crushing a first bubble right above his growing hard-on.
"Oh, now the fun begins," Pike whispers in his ear.
McCoy starts sweating.
Pike, Chapel - Pad of paper
"I'm bored out of my scull," Pike complains to the nurse - Nurse Chapel, that is, it's a bit hard to remember names at the moment.
"The doctor will be with you any minute, sir."
"Why don't you give me a PADD? Or even better, a mobile console to work with? It drives me crazy not to know what's going on outside of this room."
"Sir, you need to rest, and reading reports wouldn't be good for that."
"I'll go crazy if I can't do something to occupy my mind," Pike says, and if he sounds like a niggling five-year-old, it's only their fault by subjecting him to this tightened bed rest.
"All right," Chapel says and vanishes for a second, returning with a pad of paper and a pen.
"What am I supposed to do with that?" he asks as she puts both things into his lap.
"Ever played hangman?" She pulls a chair close.
When McCoy enters ten minutes later, he finds both animatedly arguing about the correct spelling of some obscure word he'd never heard in his life. Relieved to find their moods improving - they'd both been hell to be around - he quietly leaves them to their discussion.
Pike, Kirk - Rolodex
"That's the last thing in here," Chris says as he picks the item from the bottom of the old drawer. Ancient, might be the better word, and the item must be just as old, two hundred years maybe. It also has gathered the dust of millennia, and he sneezes as he gives it over to Jim.
"What the hell is it?" Jim asks as he turns the thing in his hand. Little cards flip forward, and having gathered the principle, he turns a few with his fingertips. Some carry the letters of the alphabet, but otherwise, all are empty.
"Frankly, I have no idea," Chris says, taking the find out of Jim's hand. "Let's throw it out."
"Hey, it's a Kirk family heirloom. It could be worth a million credits." Jim pouts.
Chris doesn't even say a word, just shakes his head as he puts the item on the pile of things to get moved to the recycling station.
"You're right," Jim says. "Let's throw it out."
Nobody could know that a Vulcan collector of Earth items that stored information in a systematic fashion would pay a fortune for it, enough for the case to make it into the headline.
Knowing he'd never hear the end of it, Chris decides to abstain from helping friends (lovers, partners, or who else the fuck inherits an old farm full of junk) in the near or far future.
This entry was originally posted at http://syredronning.dreamwidth.org/1343752.html. Feel free to comment anywhere.
Pike/Number One - Foot Rest
"These boots kill me," Number One says and heavily sits down on their bed, stretching her legs into the room. The tall heels scratch along the carpet, leaving a small trail of flattened fibers.
"But they look fabulous," Chris says. "Really adorable."
"Oh yes? Maybe you should wear them next time we attend a reception," Number One grouses.
"They'd never look as good on me as they look on you." Not thinking of the damage it could cause on his expensive attire, he kneels down in front of her, capturing her feet with his hands. "I meant it when I said adorable." Attempting to underline his point, he lifts them up until the soles of the boots rest against his chest, his hands supporting the heels.
"Oh," she says, the displeased frown quickly dispelled by enlightenment. "You - really like these?"
"Yes," he says and lifts them even higher, until his lips are close to the heels' points.
"You will not kiss these dirty soles," she says sharply and pulls her feet away. "Stay put and wait." She stomps into the bathroom, not returning for a while. Unsure what to do, but inclined to follow her orders for the time being, Chris strips out of his jacket and removes his tie, putting them aside as far as he can while still on his knees. He's horny and hard, and really hopes that her mood will be compatible to his.
When the door to the bathroom opens, his worries vanish in the blink of an eye - she's in the nude, stripped of everything aside the boots, whose fresh polish shines in the light of the room. Like a goddess she sails in on her high heels and sinks down on the bed, pushing the boots' soles against his white silk shirt.
"Close your mouth, Chris," she admonishes him, "you look really stupid like that. And then show me how much you like my shoes."
Leaning down on one elbow, she cups her sex with her other hand. "And if you're good, maybe you'll get more than that. Maybe."
His hands on her inner thighs and his lips on the leather, he sets out to perform a great show, his reward already in sight.
Pike/McCoy - Bubble wrap
"What's that?" McCoy asks from his slightly strained position, wrists tied up high, legs slightly spread with ankles secured on the floor.
"Just making sure you won't break," Pike says with a smirk while wrapping something around McCoy's naked hips.
"Huh?"
"You said you don't want to be wrapped in cotton wool. I don't know where you picked up that peculiar idiom but it made me think…"
"Learned it from a schoolfriend of mine," McCoy says. "In any case, I was only kidding, okay? I don't need to be handled with kids gloves."
"Oh, I know that you don't like a whipping as much as I do, so I thought I'd protect you a little better."
"With cotton?" McCoy stares down his body, trying to discern what's going on in the low lights of the dungeon.
"No," Pike says and grins while securing the material with silver tapes. "Bubble wrap."
"Uh uh…" McCoy mutters, feeling suddenly more humiliated than ever as Pike pats his ass, which makes the wrap squeal protectively.
"Now, let's see if I can get some of those bubbles break," Pike says and takes out the signal whip.
McCoy holds his breath as it cracks close to his ear, but relaxes as the whip's usually sharp impact gets nicely buffered by the wrap - at least until its end snaps around his hip, crushing a first bubble right above his growing hard-on.
"Oh, now the fun begins," Pike whispers in his ear.
McCoy starts sweating.
Pike, Chapel - Pad of paper
"I'm bored out of my scull," Pike complains to the nurse - Nurse Chapel, that is, it's a bit hard to remember names at the moment.
"The doctor will be with you any minute, sir."
"Why don't you give me a PADD? Or even better, a mobile console to work with? It drives me crazy not to know what's going on outside of this room."
"Sir, you need to rest, and reading reports wouldn't be good for that."
"I'll go crazy if I can't do something to occupy my mind," Pike says, and if he sounds like a niggling five-year-old, it's only their fault by subjecting him to this tightened bed rest.
"All right," Chapel says and vanishes for a second, returning with a pad of paper and a pen.
"What am I supposed to do with that?" he asks as she puts both things into his lap.
"Ever played hangman?" She pulls a chair close.
When McCoy enters ten minutes later, he finds both animatedly arguing about the correct spelling of some obscure word he'd never heard in his life. Relieved to find their moods improving - they'd both been hell to be around - he quietly leaves them to their discussion.
Pike, Kirk - Rolodex
"That's the last thing in here," Chris says as he picks the item from the bottom of the old drawer. Ancient, might be the better word, and the item must be just as old, two hundred years maybe. It also has gathered the dust of millennia, and he sneezes as he gives it over to Jim.
"What the hell is it?" Jim asks as he turns the thing in his hand. Little cards flip forward, and having gathered the principle, he turns a few with his fingertips. Some carry the letters of the alphabet, but otherwise, all are empty.
"Frankly, I have no idea," Chris says, taking the find out of Jim's hand. "Let's throw it out."
"Hey, it's a Kirk family heirloom. It could be worth a million credits." Jim pouts.
Chris doesn't even say a word, just shakes his head as he puts the item on the pile of things to get moved to the recycling station.
"You're right," Jim says. "Let's throw it out."
Nobody could know that a Vulcan collector of Earth items that stored information in a systematic fashion would pay a fortune for it, enough for the case to make it into the headline.
Knowing he'd never hear the end of it, Chris decides to abstain from helping friends (lovers, partners, or who else the fuck inherits an old farm full of junk) in the near or far future.
This entry was originally posted at http://syredronning.dreamwidth.org/1343752.html. Feel free to comment anywhere.