Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!border2.nntp.dca.giganews.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.newshog.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: "roctz" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW:TOS "The Russian Always Screams Twice" 2/3, humor [PG-13] Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 253 Date: Tue, 28 Sep 2004 04:55:06 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1096347306 209.198.142.218 (Tue, 28 Sep 2004 00:55:06 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 28 Sep 2004 00:55:06 EDT Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:84866 X-Received-Date: Mon, 27 Sep 2004 21:55:09 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: The Russian Always Screams Twice Authors: Jane Skazki, Arctapus, Ventura33 feedback@ventura33.com, Britta britta54@hotmail.com, Rocky roq@iname.com, Wildcat Wildcat7898@yahoo.com, Jungle Kitty, Laurel laurelstk@yahoo.com Series: TOS Rating: PG-13 Part: New 2/3 Codes: Humor, all TOS regulars, plus some guest appearances Date first posted: 9/27/04 Archive: ASC yes, all others please ask first Summary & Disclaimer: see part 1 Part 6 (by Jane Skazki) I glared at Kyle. "I thought I told you..." "He had a client, boss." "This is the last time!" I vowed, twisting to look over the back of my seat, just as Khan Noonian Singh straightened up, pulling his hair back into a ponytail and buttoning his fly with the arrogant ambidexterity of the genetically engineered. "No one does a Brazilian quite like your little apparatchik," he told me. "You know, I've never seen him in daylight, but I'd recognize his handiwork anywhere in the galaxy." The new growth in my crotch bristled jealously against my underwear as the door of the flitter slammed shut in Khan's wake. Too late, I made the connection I should have made three hours earlier. Khan. Of course. "I will clean the wax off the seats in the morning, Mister Sulu," Chekov assured me earnestly, as he too prepared to depart. "Stay there and shut up!" I ordered, hitting the central locking. Harriman was sneering at me. "I see you worked it out, Sulu. Yes, there were Ceti eels all over. I'll see you down at the precinct in two minutes. Oh, and Sulu..." "Yes, boss?" "Tell Pavel I'll have to cancel my appointment. I'm going to be busy." ***** Part 7 (by Wildcat) The ride to the precinct was a long one. I could hear the scrape of Chekov's fingernails as he tried to remove evidence of his earlier activities from the threadbare fabric of my back seat, and Kyle's appreciative grunts with each bite of donut he took. But mostly it was quiet. Too quiet. Someone like me, who's seen it all, can't help but get lost in the grim reality of what can happen in the seamier side of life. Hookers and pimps and dealers and thugs were my everyday companions, and sometimes the line between the law and the law-breaking was as thin as the eyebrows painted on Janice's face. When I parked at the station, I told Pavel to scram, and he obliged. I waited until he vanished around the corner, and then I told Kyle to come with me. Harriman was waiting at the door. He looked even more pale than usual. Whatever had happened had shaken him up, but it didn't take much to shake up Harriman. He always tried to act like a tough guy, but his act didn't fool me. He wouldn't take a piss without someone there to help him shake it afterward. I knew that this current situation was no exception. He needed someone to tell him what to do, and that someone was going to have to be me. I couldn't help but think about how Jim Kirk would have handled things, if he were still in charge here. "Who is it?" I asked, walking past Harriman. Harriman hurried to catch up with me. "I think you need to see it for yourself, Sulu." Icy fingers crept up my spine. This was the second time I'd asked that question, but it was clear that Harriman wasn't going to answer. He led me toward the evidence room. The first thing I noticed was that the lock on the door had been phasered. The second thing I noticed was the disarray. Five boxes on shelf 6A had been pulled down and emptied on the floor, as if an angry five-year-old child had gotten tired of his playthings. I knew there had been a struggle. The third thing I noticed was my old pal Scotty, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, a blank stare on his face, a trickle of blood running out of his ear, and the lid to one of the boxes still clutched in his stiff fingers. I swallowed hard and knelt beside him, and I remembered all those nights we'd spent down at Guinan's, blowing off steam while we tossed back whiskey and traded banter with the working girls. I thought about Mira. Before this night was over, I was going to have to tell another woman that this crummy job had made a widow out of her. "He put up a fight," Harriman said. "Yeah, he's had to clean up this kind of mess too many times not to know what he was in for. Poor bastard." Something squirmed on the other side of Harriman, and I felt satisfaction when Harriman picked up his foot and turned it into a puddle of mucus. I looked up at a sound behind me to see that the coroner had walked into the room. I was just getting ready to move out of his way when I noticed something sticking out of the corner of Scotty's mouth. "Hello. What's this?" I muttered. I pulled down Scotty's lower lip, then reached into my pocket for a handkerchief and extracted a wad of paper from Scotty's mouth. Careful not to smudge any possible fingerprints, I unfolded it. All it said was, "Meet me at the dock. Three a.m." ***** Part 8 (by Jungle Kitty) The dock? Nexus City doesn't have a lake or a river, much less a dock. "Must be code," Harriman said, grabbing the paper and destroying any fingerprints it might have yielded. I stifled a "Well duh," partially because I didn't want to talk to him but mostly because Marla McGimme had just wandered in. I remembered the first time I saw her, fresh out of the Academy and thinking she'd make detective within a week. She showed promise, even helped crack the Reset Button murders, but then she took up with Khan. Now she was just a love-struck dispatch clerk with a stupid smile on her face, shoveling data all day long (when she wasn't lasering big hearts with a K in them into the desk). It made me sick to see a colleague let herself be treated like a shore leave prostitootsie. Even Christine had better sense about men than Marla. Better sense about jewelry, too. Khan liked to see her all decked out and tonight she'd outdone herself. I hadn't seen that much plastic masquerading as platinum since we busted Janice Lester for identity theft and credit disk fraud. "Hey, Sulu," she said. "I been looking for you. Khan wants to talk to you." "I'm busy." I knelt down next to Scotty's body, wondering if there was any more evidence for Harriman to taint. And sure enough... there was something pink and wispy in Scotty's hair. Not too many people knew about Scotty's frou-frou fetish but I did and I also knew he wouldn't be caught dead in pink. It was green or nothing (and I didn't want to think about the time I'd inadvertently walked in on "nothing".) I touched it carefully. Sticky. A bit came off on my finger. I tasted it. Sugary. "You can't be too busy for Khan," Marla whined. "You better get your butt back to the diner. He's waiting in the parking lot." "The parking lot?" Harriman repeated. "Are he and Kirk fighting again?" "They weren't when I left but McCoy was hiding the Crisco. Said he'd be damned if he'd let them grease up their chests again just to make it look good." "Guess I'll just wait for someone to phone it in." Harriman shrugged and left. I sat down next to my dead buddy and had a think. Somewhere in this whole mess there was an answer but I could hardly keep the facts straight, let alone figure out how they all fit together. I felt like I was on a merry-go-round spinning out of control at warp 12. Marla interrupted my thoughts by shaking her bracelets in my face. "Khan doesn't like to be kept waiting, you know." "Khan can get off his genetically enhanced high horse and--" She shook her head, her earrings jingling emphatically. "Khan is not like that!" "Marla, can you turn down the volume on your jewelry?" "I wouldn't if I could. These were gifts from Khan." Every time I thought she'd hit rock bottom on the pathetic-o-meter, she found a new low. You didn't have to spend a lot to impress her. Just give her something flashy you got out of a box of Cracker Chaks. "Marla, you deserve a lot better." "There's no one better than Khan." The earrings rang out again. "I meant better jewelry." "Don't be silly, Sulu. I know this isn't worth anything like MONEY but I'll never forget last night! I wish you could have seen him! He just kept winning and handing me jewelry and winning some more--" "He won it?" "At the arcade! He was incredible! He won every prize at the Red Shirt Shooting Gallery, including the Big Rabbit and the Hobby Horta! He even beat Kid Mitchell at arm-wrestling!" I stared at her, scarcely able to believe that Marla and her tacky winnings had given me the clue I needed. It all fit--Scotty meeting someone at "the dock" and ending up dead with cotton candy in his hair... Even Khan needing a Brazilian made sense. Yeah, it was all coming together and chugging around in my head like those little boats in the kiddie lagoon, one of which had taken my friend on a ride to Deadtown. "Marla, I could kiss you!" "You better not try it! Khan will--" "Screw Khan! Now listen, I need a favor." My mind was racing... I still didn't know who had lifted the crate of D but I had a solid idea about how they planned to slip it past the Neutral Zone patrols. And I'd have to pull in every bit of help I could to stop them. "Why should I do you a favor? You've insulted my jewelry and my boyfriend. Did I tell you he bought a bottle of Chateau Picard for my birthday?" "Marla, do this for me and you'll never have to drink that cheap swill again. Now, go to the diner and tell Kirk to put his shirt on and meet me at the Space Carnival." Harriman barged in. "You're taking off to go to the carnival? I'll have your badge, Deputy!" I ignored him and told Marla to have Kirk bring a dozen donuts with him. I hate all that superspy stuff, codes and what-have-you, but it was the only way to let Kirk know how serious this was without frightening Marla. And it felt good to let Harriman think he wasn't getting any of our tri-Krispy Kremes. To be continued... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: