by P B Wrapper

Lieutenant Sulu paused in front of the small mirror over his dressing table-cum-desk and peeled the latex scar off his cheek. Then he turned and looked at Ensign Chekov.

"The agony booth..."

Chekov shivered, then took a large step backwards. "No, not again..."

Sulu laughed. "You can stop play acting now. You were pretty convincing, I thought. I never guessed you could be that good..."

The ensign pouted.

Sulu folded his arms. "...At acting, stupid. Tell you what, come here and let me kiss it all better."

"We're on duty in two minutes, Lieutenant."

"A quick kiss, first aid."

Chekov was still hesitant.

"Those bastards really got to you, didn't they?"

"I don't know what you mean..."

"They have the right to do things their way. Non-interference, remember."

The ensign bit his lip, unwilling, as always, to contradict a superior. "Yes, but... it's so cruel. Imposing their will on everyone, forcing people to live their lives according to someone else's rules..."

"Well, they won't be coming here and imposing them on us. We made sure of that."

"Yes..." Clearly not yet completely reassured, Chekov came and laid his head on his lover's shoulder. "I just can't imagine, serving with you and not being allowed to..."

"But you are allowed to."

"Yes, but somewhere out there, there are a Lieutenant Sulu and an Ensign Chekov who... The way she looked at you, Karushka, that bitch... she wanted you."

"Our Nyota wouldn't dream of making a play for either of us. She's a lady, Christine Chapel's lady..."

"Yes..." Chekov snuggled a little against the lieutenant's muscular body.

"It's okay to be frightened by the idea," Sulu soothed, his fingers kneading the muscles at the base of the navigator's spine. "It's only because Spock picked up on how twisted they were that we were able to act quickly enough. If his link with the captain hadn't enabled him to read their Kirk's mind, and see just what their system was doing to him and the captain, in their universe..."

"Keeping them apart..."

"Yeah. Spock told me, they could have been court-martialled if they'd tried to have any kind of physical relationship. Their careers could be ruined just by rumours."

"I heard that too. I didn't have to act being scared," Chekov confessed. "I was terrified. And when I think about the captain, and the others, all alone in a place like that. And without Spock's telepathic abilities. They didn't know..."

"Nyota told me what happened. They'd transported back, as far as they knew, the mission was over, they were off duty, and when the captain kissed Spock, he went berserk. They were all thrown in the brig, I mean almost literally thrown. And insulted. Even threatened, by some of the guards. You wouldn't believe the things they were saying. The captain was dragged up to sickbay, handcuffed, and they started doing all these so-called medical investigations, telling him he'd been brainwashed, or taken over

"It didn't occur to them that he might just find Spock attractive?"

Sulu snorted. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"That was the problem. They did find each other attractive and they were denying it like fury. That was why they over-reacted so badly. Apparently..."

"Yes?"

"You know our Spock did a mindmeld with their McCoy, before he sent them back?"

"No. You mean... forcibly?"

"Yes. He didn't like it, but it was necessary, to reinforce the message that we were too dangerous to mess with. He didn't actually say anything... but I got the distinct impression that he was shaken by something he found."

Chekov stared at his lover. "Their McCoy... is in love with their Spock..."

"I reckon so. Imagine it. Three of them, in complete denial..."

"What about us?" Chekov whispered. "Are they doing that to you and me? What if we... if we can't hide it? What would they do to us?"

Sulu pulled the ensign down to sitting on the bunk. "Just hold on a minute, love." He leaned across to the intercom. "Uhura?"

"Mister Sulu?"

"Can I speak to the captain, please?"

"Lieutenant? Is there a problem?" You couldn't pinpoint any audible difference between the two voices, but it was good to know that at last, their Jim Kirk was back in command.

"I'm with Ensign Chekov, Captain. He's a little... shaken, by what's happened."

"Would it help if I talked to him?" Kirk asked immediately.

"No, I... I think he just needs a little down time. I thought if he and I..."

Kirk chuckled. "The two of you are relieved for twenty four hours. Make good use of it. And I might ask you to stand an extra shift tomorrow for me and Spock."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir."

Sulu killed the link and turned his attention back to his lover. "Hear that, Pavel? Everything's okay again here. I can't make you any promises about other universes..."

"No. I know that."

"So what shall we do now?"

Chekov licked his lips hesitantly as he pulled out of the helmsman's arms. "I thought... you made a very... convincing Security Chief."

Sulu's eyes widened, and he smiled. "Oh?"

"And... the scar..."

"Right. I see where you're heading. Just you wait there." He gave Chekov an affirming hug and then crossed over to the desk. "Don't look."

"Uh... okay."

"Better still, shut your eyes. Lie down, please, face downwards, for now. "

"Okay."

"'Yes, sir!'"

"Oh. Yes, sir!"

There was a sound of drawers opening and shutting, rummaging, and finally a sequence of metallic clicks.

"Ensign Chekov..."

"Yes, sir?"

"I need to know who was behind your assassination attempt on the captain."

Chekov swallowed hard. The lieutenant's voice was harsh and impatient.

"Mister Spock is particularly insistent that I discover the full details. I could use the agony booth of couse, but so soon after last time... you might not survive long enough to answer my questions."

The ensign gulped as Sulu sat next to him.

"Why doesn't Mister Spock perform a mind meld," Chekov asked, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Don't be stupid, Ensign. His overwhelming sexual attraction to you would render the results untrustworthy."

"Oh, yes. Sir."

"You are a valuable member of this crew, of course. My orders are that you shouldn't be permanently damaged, so long as you obey me exactly throughout the interrogation. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. Very clear."

"Good." Sulu took hold of Chekov's wrists and pulled them together behind his back. Cold metal bands snapped round them. "Then we will begin the interrogation."

"Sir?"

"Yes? What is it?"

"Safe word."

"Hm. You've done this before, haven't you?"

"I've read about it."

Sulu smiled. "The safe word is 'stop'. Okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Stand up, Ensign."

Chekov struggled a little awkwardly to his feet. His eyes widened. Sulu's scar was restored. The lieutenant was also wearing a cropped gold vest like the captain's, and holding a short-bladed dagger.

"Take your boots off."

He kicked them off, using the one to lever off the other, and then struggling with one bare foot to remove the second. He straightened up again. Sulu stepped forward with the knife. It was very sharp. It sliced up the front of the ensign's tunic and undershirt with no trouble at all. The sleeves were opened up just as easily and the remains fell away.

"Mm," Sulu murmured appreciatively. "Now the rest of your uniform."

"I... uh, I can't."

"Oh, no." Sulu grinned evilly. "I'll have to help." He stuck the knife back into a loop on his belt and quickly unfastened the waist of Chekov's uniform pants, sliding his hands further down than seemed entirely necessary.

Chekov drew in a sharp breath.

"Like that, do you?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're not meant to like it."

"No, sir."

"If I see that you're enjoying it, I'll have to punish you."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's see if you're enjoying it." The helmsman's hands moved round to his prisoner's hips and pulled his remaining garments clear of an undeniable erection. "Oh, dear." Sulu shook his head. "You really are in trouble now, Ensign."