Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newsswing.news.prodigy.com!prodigy.net!prodigy.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.monger.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: From: "nyotava" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TOS A Pledge 1/5 [R] (K/U) Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 426 Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 23:55:03 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: monger.newsread.com 1104278103 209.198.142.218 (Tue, 28 Dec 2004 18:55:03 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 18:55:03 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:86436 X-Received-Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 15:55:27 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: A Pledge Properly Sealed Author: Nyotava (nyotava @ yahoo.com) Series: TOS Part: NEW 1/5 Rating: [R] Codes: K/U Summary: After Platonius, Kirk and Uhura address some awkardness Archive: ASC and UFF. All others, please ask. Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I receive no profits from this. It is just for fun. Beta: A very special thanks to IDIC for her thoughtful beta and inspiration in the form of "Plato's Reprise" and "Realizations Resolved," as well as for permitting me to borrow elements from both stories. Errors due to my last-minute changes. Author's note: This is my very first story and I welcome all manner of feedback and criticisms except flames. The Enterprise was in a lull. Everyone was frustrated by the dull mission they had accepted. They were granting asylum and ferrying Alexander, a former member of the Planet Platonius, to Starbase 15 where the ship was due for routine maintenance. From there he would rendezvous with the Potemkin, which would transport him the rest of the way to Terrastnom, but in the meantime, they were essentially a taxi service. Captain Kirk and the crew were glad to offer asylum to Alexander, also one of Parmen's victims on Platonius, but would have preferred a more exciting task. Nyota Uhura awoke every day with disgust in her heart. She was positively bored out of her mind with things lately. Everything was the same. She woke up, got dressed, went to the bridge, performed diagnostics and then--nothing. Thankfully, the maintenance would allow for some down time, but oddly, that was the problem--all their official up time was actually down. After the ordeal on Platonius, everyone was understandably relieved to have a breather, but that was over three weeks ago. Since then, they had not seen an anomaly, a new alien species, or a breach in the time-space continuum. It bored Uhura to tears. She had once told Spock that she thought if she heard the word "frequency" once more, she would cry. It was hyperbole at the time. She was dismayed to know that the remark was now quite apt. The maintenance would allow for some shore leave to be scheduled, which would be a relief to many, herself included. Anytime was a good time for shopping, but Starbase 15 was not her idea of a shopper's paradise. She decided that she would settle for some time alone in her cabin. All she wanted was to get away from the Captain. Ever since being sent by force down to Platonius, and made to kiss one another, to the delight of sadistic onlookers, Uhura and Captain Kirk had not been the same around each other. More to the point, she had not been the same around him. She could scarcely look him in the eye and her uneasiness was probably obvious to most, including him. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable around her, but she just could not help it. The intimacy on Parmen's planet was relatively mild. Uhura was certain it would not have remained so had the Captain and Spock not been able to access the kironide's power. They had held each other tightly, Kirk's grip on her shoulders leaving impressions of his fingertips as he tried to get control on his movements. They had pressed their cheeks together while their bodies became closer. Finally, he took her by the hair, leaned her back and pressed his lips to hers. It held not the passion of lovers but the confusion, frustration and fear of two abused animals forced to mate. She was understandably jumpy when she beamed back, as were all the sex-show victims, but there was something else. It was as if Pandora's Box had been opened. It was more than the understandable shame of being manipulated, and forced on someone, or the humiliation of being observed by a delightedly cruel, catcalling audience while doing so. It was more than that. It was more private than that. It was as if someone had been watching her dreams of the past and taking notes. It was as if the scene had been the result of her own secret desires and fantasies. She blamed this entire ordeal on a love for him that she thought was long dead. It began as a crush, a romanticizing of his command and notoriety and especially his atractiveness. Over time it had developed into something more that she refused to acknowledge. The trust and admiration she felt for him grew with each successful mission. They could be in grave danger and one glance at him assured her that everything would be all right. Being so close to him, even showing forced affection, reminded her of all the times they had been in trouble together, when she had to follow his every instruction, trusting his every word with her life. And with her life she entrusted his hands when they helped her reach safety. In his arms she had never felt more safe. Yet the erotic nature of what they had just experienced together held more than she thought she could handle. Like an old flame thought long burnt out, the feelings had returned to ignite an unrequited passion. Yet it had only been a kiss. A forced, unromantic, essentially innocuous kiss. Feelings she had buried were now returning to the surface, sometimes at the most inopportune times. He would stand beside her giving instructions and she would imagine him bending down, gently removing her earpiece and whispering erotic words, breathy in her ear, making her shiver. She noted that more recently even his manner had changed around her but she found it that more difficult to discern. Lately he always seemed to be either smiling at her or looking very uneasy around her, which only made her newly returned attraction to him harder to handle. He almost treated her as if she were a new recruit just visiting the bridge. She noted that he was not at all unprofessional, just not quite as cool and detached as he usually was while on duty. The worst was when they found themselves alone together. She was certain that she never wanted to be alone in a turbolift with him again. Every time it happened she would spend the most awkward few seconds of her career. He was distracted and she could scarcely look at anything but her boots. What was happening between them? ********** This morning was no different than recent others. She woke up, got dressed and headed to the bridge. In the turbolift she laughed to herself at the thought that once, just once, she would have liked to enter the bridge and do something outrageous, something to make everyone laugh. An ice-breaker. She knew no jokes and even if she did, her delivery was dreadful. She rarely got more than a grin or an uncomfortable chuckle out of her audience and vowed to stick to riddles and bawdy drinking songs if anything at all. Stepping off the turbolift and seating herself at her station, she reflected on the fact that lately, the crew was barely even saying hello at their start of shift. Morale had been waning with everyone. Captain Kirk was even affected by the ennui the entire ship seemed to be feeling. He would sit in his command chair and sigh quietly, with an occasional swivel in her direction. Sadly, it was just about the only sound she heard that was not a beep or whir from someone's console, yet was not particularly comforting to her. When she heard him exhale, all she could imagine was his breath, hot against her skin. This morning, Spock looked up and gave her a nod and the Captain glanced over at her with a weak, almost apologetic grin on his face. She allowed a tiny smile and sat down, put in her earpiece, and began testing her board. ********** Her shift nearly over, Uhura was happy to have had something to think about besides the Captain. What could possibly liven up things around the ship? With a twinkle in her eye, she decided--a party. That would change the pace a bit. Even if something exciting finally did happen, some casual inter-space fun never hurt. Their five-year mission would be over in a matter of months and this would be a nice way to lead into the final festivities of a mission accomplished. And she was just the person to do it, and Christine Chapel could help, maybe even Sulu and Chekov. She would talk to the captain about it at dinner this evening. //I won't be alone with him. I can handle it.// ********** Uhura entered the officer's mess and scanned the room for the Captain. She was not sure if he would take his evening meal in his cabin since his mood today had been decidedly unpleasant. She spotted him sitting with Spock, Scotty and McCoy. After picking up a tray and making her selection, she pivoted and headed in their direction, trying her best to appear that it was not a B-line for their table. Scotty was the first to look up. He always was. It was as if he had antennae when it came to her. The Captain beat Scotty at being the first to speak. "Good evening, Lieutenant. Care to join us?" Scotty glanced quickly at the Captain before adding: "Aye, lass. Have a seat. We were just talking about this silly busy work we've been assigned. I know your job hasn't been any more interestin' than ours. It doesn't make sense, really. There's usually *something* afoot." "I know," she agreed and sat next to Scotty. "That's just what I wanted to talk to you about, Captain." Kirk tilted his head toward her, appearing intrigued. "Just what did you have in mind, Lieutenant?" Uhura felt herself blush. "Short answer, a party. Slightly longer answer: an interesting party, maybe with a theme." The men looked at one another dubiously, then McCoy chuckled and gave her a sideways look. "A theme party? Like what, Uhura, Toga?" Uhura almost cringed. Glossing over McCoy's mention of anything even resembling ancient Mediterranean clothing so soon after the incident on Platonius, Kirk nudged him, trying to diffuse the comment. "Come on, Bones. She's trying to break the monotony around here, and I for one am very appreciative." Captain Kirk shrugged and added, "I'd say I've had enough of Grecian clothing, although the ladies looked lovely in their costumes. And aside from Spock's chicken legs, I don't think we looked too bad either... So Toga it is, although you might have to remind me how to tie one," he said and concluded by giving her his crooked smile and hazel-eyed sparkle. Uhura, stunned and slightly embarrassed by the captain's joke, smiled nervously, sensing the heat rise to her face and ears again. She suddenly felt on the spot. She should have thought this out a little more, and she was not expecting to be reminded of the encounter with the Platonians so soon, or so lightheartedly. She knew Kirk meant nothing by it, merely playing off McCoy's knee- jerk reply, and she almost agreed that it was probably about time for her to stop languishing over the experience. He was trying to make light of a situation that no one really was quite comfortable with. McCoy dropped his head a little and tried to change the subject briefly. Kirk glanced reassuringly over at him. "Captain, I believe the ancient Greek attire that we wore were known as Chlamys, not togas, togas being Roman in origin. As for my 'chicken legs,' on Vulcan the epitome of aesthetics and good health is a lean yet defined physique, whereas those with more... bulbous figures are considered quite unsightly." Spock rejoined with a raise of his eyebrow, causing the other men to look at one another. "Gentlemen, I don't know about the rest of you, but I think I've just been insulted." "Aye." "Boy howdy." Although she smiled warmly, she was not paying much attention to their banter. Her thoughts went back to the idea of a get-together. As much as she enjoyed planning parties, themed ones could easily fall flat if the right atmosphere and enthusiasm of the partygoers were not at optimum. In fact, she wondered whether or not she would receive any cooperation at all, considering the crew's collective bad mood. "I'll come up with something. I just wanted to see if you were receptive to the idea of a party at all," she said somewhat uneasily. "Well, Lieutenant, you have my full authority to plan a get- together. Feel free to recruit anyone you need. I'm sure Spock is fairly handy with streamers, aren't you, Spock?" Spock raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly. "Indeed. I am familiar with the custom of using colored paper and balloons to decorate for a festivity. The Lieutenant has requested my assistance in the past." McCoy saw an opportunity to add to the minor change in topic, and chimed in with a derisive chuckle. "You don't say?" Spock paused a moment, tilted his head slightly and lowered an eyebrow, looking confused. "I am not certain I understand. It is evident that I *do* or rather *did* say, in view of the fact that I and all in attendance can attest to it." Kirk chuckled and looked at McCoy. With a sly grin, McCoy looked at the others, picked up his glass and gestured toward the science officer with it. "Anyhow, I'd pay admission to see Spock blowing up balloons. I'm in, Uhura. Besides, I'd decorate with the devil himself, no offense, Spock, to get me away from that damned busy work Starfleet has me swamped in." A light bulb popped on in Uhura's mind. "Well, since Halloween isn't too far away, how about a costume party?" Uhura gingerly offered. "That's a wonderful suggestion, Lieutenant," the Captain said sincerely. "But be sure to make clear to everyone that togas are not permitted," he paused, sipped the last of his coffee and looked directly at her. "I'm sorry, not togas. Chlamys, but then you'll have to explain to everyone what you're referring to." He smirked at Spock. "If there's anything you need, you know where to find me," the Captain assured her with a crooked grin and rose to stand. "Now, speaking of which, that's exactly where I need to go right now. Have a good evening." ********** The next day was just as the previous one. Quiet. Uhura monitored subspace frequencies while thinking about what she would like to wear for the party. Then she wondered what everyone else would come as. The Captain and Spock had been Chicago gangsters, Greeks, Organians, Nazis, and countless others. New and exciting costume ideas should be easy for them to imagine. Scarcely forgetting, even for a moment, the forced show she and the captain were subject to on Platonius, she felt the heat rise to her face. It had been nearly a month ago, but she was still unsettled by the experience. Humiliating, frightening yet erotic at the same time. She was privately embarrassed that she gleaned any sensuality from the incident at all. She was not supposed to. She could have been killed. She could have been injured. She could have been raped by the captain. But if she secretly longed to make love to him, would it really have been rape? "Lieutenant. Lieutenant?" The captain's second attempt carried an edge to it. "Yes, Captain?" She turned to face him. "Where were you just now?" //On Platonius, in your arms.// She swallowed too hard. "I'm sorry, sir. I thought I heard a faint signal, but it was nothing," she answered and sat up straighter and crossed her legs. "All right, if you're certain. Please send a status report to Starfleet Command..." "Aye, Captain," she said with an imperceptible sigh. Even when he was impatient with her lately, he seemed uncomfortable showing it. To her, his look had carried concern more than it did anger or annoyance. She collated the day's reports on their current "mission" if it could be called that, and when she glanced up from her padd he had swiveled in her direction. //Damn, he is fine.// Uhura was not one to utilize slang much in her speech, yet within the confines of her thoughts, she occasionally summoned the humorous, but effective descriptive expressions used by an Academy friend and actors on old holovids. This particular one pertaining to James T. Kirk was quite appropriate. Wishing him to turn back around, so she could keep her mind on her task, she completed the mundane report without even glancing at the board, gave him a nod and turned back to complete the rest of the day's work. ********** After her shift, she decided to have her evening meal in the Officer's Lounge. She thought she would look for Christine and start in on the party ideas. Making her selection, she picked up her tray, glanced around and saw the Captain, Spock and McCoy at their usual table. "Uhura!" McCoy called from the table. She sighed quietly to herself and walked over with her tray. "We have some suggestions for the party," he said in a conspiratorial tone. "All right," she whispered as she took a seat next to McCoy, "Let's hear them." "Spock here wants to bob for apples," McCoy said proudly. Uhura rolled her eyes and laughed. Experiencing genuine amusement for the first time in about a month, she wiped a small tear from her eye as she imagined Spock, his head dunked into a pail of water and popping back up with an apple held proudly between his teeth. Kirk watched her appraisingly. "I do not *wish* to, Doctor," Spock said with a sigh. "I merely wondered if the Lieutenant would be offering this tradition at her festivity," Spock retorted, then looked over at Uhura. "Yes, I had considered it, Mr. Spock but I'm not sure whether or not I spoke too soon about this party idea. Do you think anyone would want to go? There's nothing worse than 'forced fun.'" "Lieutenant, you must plan this party," Kirk said firmly but with warm, smiling eyes. "We mentioned it in passing to several people and they already sound very excited about it. I'm sorry, but you're committed," he said with a wink. "Besides," he continued, "It's never forced fun when *you* plan the event." //Stop being so cute!// end of part I ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: