In Hot Water

by P.B.Wrapper

Disclaimers: Paramount owns the characters.

Lieutenant Uhura dropped her pack and rushed forward to the break in the trees. Beyond was a beach of silver sand and a perfect blue lake.

"Don't drink it!" Sulu yelled after her, since that was the thought uppermost in his own mind right now.

She acted like she hadn't heard him. They'd been hiking though the sparse growth of stubby conifers since early morning. The sun was now just past its zenith and the air hummed with heat, even in the half-shade of the branches.

Sulu cast an impatient look at his other companion, who shrugged. "There is nothing on this planet with teeth, and she knows the rules."

"Yeah, well..." the helmsman grumbled tiredly. "It's not as if we're short of drinking water, but even so..."

The two men followed their colleague. Chekov had picked up Uhura's pack and slung it over his shoulder with his own. He stopped to pick up the field jacket she'd dropped too, and the blue vest. He looked quizzically at Sulu.

"If she's happy skinny dipping, that's her business, I guess."

"We could wait here," Chekov suggested.

Sulu shook his head. "I know there aren't supposed to be any man-eating fauna around here, but no one should swim alone, all the same."

Chekov had stopped moving altogether. "Then I'll wait here, and you can..."

"Oh, come on, Chekov. You could see she wasn't bothered. And... I'm hot too. Aren't you?"

The ensign nodded. "I suppose we could swim after Lieutenant Uhura has finished."

Sulu took the extra pack from him and slapped him across his free shoulder. "I'm sure, Pavel, if you promise to keep your eyes shut, she won't mind sharing the lake with you."

The younger man's mouth curved up into a smile. By this time, they'd come out from the trees. The lake filled a circular depression in the low, tree covered dunes. It reflected the flawless blue of the planet's sky. The sand was fine, and marked only by a single set of boot prints, which ended where the boots had been discarded at the water's edge. Chekov put all the lieutenant's clothes together, a safe couple of metres from the water's edge. Twenty metres out, one brown arm after another broke water in a lazy crawl.

"You think it might be tidal?" Sulu teased, pulling his tricorder out of his pack. The instrument was partially disabled, to give some substance to this orienteering exercise, but it could still perform basic life form and toxin scans. "Absolutely no hostile lifeforms. The microfauna is benign. Too unlike us to cause problems. The water is fit to drink, if we needed to. So, what are you waiting for, Ensign?"

Chekov still looked as if he considered this whole scenario slightly too good to be true. "If we are late for the rendezvous..."

The helmsman sighed. "We've hardly deviated from heading due south. We must have been making... almost 10 kph. It can't be more than another half hour's walk, at most. I think the captain set this up as an extra day's shoreleave in disguise."

Chekov nodded. "I have heard other people saying that. There is a rumour that the quartermaster is organising a barbeque at the the beam up site. So perhaps we are meant to arrive early..."

"Fine, that doesn't mean we have to arrive early. We still have four hours."

"But..."

"And we have rations. We won't starve. And more to the point, there's no lake at the beam up site. Is there?"

It seemed that the ensign was beginning to be persuaded. He finally put down his pack.

"Besides," Sulu continued, "I've been to Karwowski's barbeques before now. The food's okay, but he's a frustrated boy scout. He'll have organised a scavenger hunt, and someone will have been forced to bring a guitar. I can promise you, Pav, we'll have more fun here."

"Are you two going to stand there forever?" Uhura demanded. She'd swum a little closer to the shore, where she could stand with just her head and shoulders out of the water. Her hair had begun to escape from its practical 'assault trooper' styling, wet tendrils hanging over her face.

"Um..." Chekov said.

Sulu grinned hugely. "Be a lady, Nyota, and turn your back while he gets undressed."

"I never knew he was so shy." She flipped, so that her legs exited the water and balanced for a moment, toes pointing to the sky, before following the rest of her under the surface.

Sulu's fatigues were lying in a crumpled heap on the sand in seconds. Wasting no further time, he strode into the water, launching himself full length when it was barely over his knees. He rolled onto his back and sat up. The sunlight sparked off the water droplets on his shoulders. "Come in! It's just perfect. Not too cold at all. You can tell the sun's been on it all day."

Chekov was still fully clothed.

"Do you think leaving our equipment..."

Sulu rolled his eyes. "Shall I make it easier for you? Mister Chekov, get undressed and get yourself in here before I put you on report!"

The ensign looked honestly grateful. He pulled his boots off, shed his jacket, yanked his 'T' over his head and hesitated for a moment before sliding his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and tugging them down.

Sulu turned away and began to swim out to Uhura. She was moving parallel to the shore with long, lazy back strokes. Her breasts broke water, the nipples tight and hard from the cold.

"Ooh, look. Islands," Sulu said lightly.

She continued her stately progress, eyes firmly shut. "Boarders will be repelled, Lieutenant."

"I know, I know."

"Does Chekov know?"

"I practically had to get a note from his mother before he'd come anywhere near the water."

"Good. We find a refusal sometimes offends."

Sulu snorted. "It's too cold in here to even think about misbehaving."

She laughed her chocolate brown laugh. "You'll get used to that in no time."

"Mm. I think you're right."

"Are any other teams due to come through here?"

"Why? Are you worried your private lido is about to be overrun?"

"No. I just... prefer not to be a focus for gossip."

"Well, rest assured. Unless someone made a real mess of reading the sensor maps, *and* moved like greased lightning, we shouldn't see a soul. We were the only party anywhere north of the beam down site."

Uhura suddenly righted herself and began treading water. "This pool wasn't on the sensor maps..."

"So? It'll be a whatchamacallit, a seasonal lake. You can tell there's been rain recently, from the vegetation. The sensor maps are from the last survey, from later in the year probably. Oh, hi Chekov! I was beginning to wonder if you were learning to swim from scratch over there."

The ensign shook his head, sending a shower of water over his friends.

"He wants a fight!" Sulu yelled triumphantly. He ducked under the surface to grab Chekov by the legs and pull him under as well.

The helmsman came up shortly after Chekov had escaped from him and surfaced, spluttering. He was holding an object, roughly spherical, the size of a cabbage, bright green in colour. "These are lying all over the bottom. They must be some kind of rhizome..."

"Stop being a botanist," Uhura said cheerfully. "Chekov and I think it's a beach ball. He's piggy." She held her hands up, and Sulu immediately threw the ball over Chekov's head so she could catch it.

Her return shot went wide and Chekov intercepted it. Sulu crashed into him in a desperate attempt to grab it back. The two men vanished under the surface again, arms and legs thrashing.

Eventually they reappeared, but the 'ball' had burst. Sulu was turning over the punctured casing. "They're just full of water. Must be some kind of storage system for when the lake dries out..."

"Stop being a botanist!"Uhura repeated. Chekov had found a replacement and he restarted the game. After a few more throws, they'd moved into shallower water. Chekov was 'piggy' again. Sulu threw the ball so that both Chekov and Uhura had an equal chance of getting it. He snatched it out of her hands, and she promptly jumped on top of him and forced him under, not releasing him until he let her have the ball.

He came up looking worried.

"Okay, Chekov?" Uhura asked, keeping the ball out of his reach in case this was simply a ruse.

"I trod on a stone." He tried to raise his foot out of the water, almost falling over in the process.

Uhura let the ball drop and moved closer to him. "Here, lean on me." She slid one arm round his ribs and let him rest his injured foot on her other forearm so they could both inspect the small cut on the ball of his foot, which was bleeding freely, but looked clean.

"We'll fix it when we get out. I don't think it's going to come to any harm in here. Sharp stones on the bottom, Sulu. Why don't we swim races, so we don't tread on any more?" She looked at Chekov. "You can let go now, Ensign."

He released his grip on her shoulder with a sheepish grin. "First one to the far shore and back!" Sulu announced, and launched himself into a head start. Chekov and Uhura exchanged grins and followed him.

Still breathless, exhilaration giving way to an enjoyable lethargy, Sulu found the bottom with his toes and started to wade towards the beach. "I'm almost hungry enough to find the idea of Starfleet rations attractive," he grumbled to Chekov, who was just behind him. "Watch out for stones, remember."

Just then, his toe hit something. He bent down and retrieved another of the balls. "D'you think it's edible?"

The ensign looked doubtful. "Rations are not so bad that you have to risk it. Unless your tricorder is programmed to tell you whether it tastes good..."

Sulu chucked it to him. "You're the most junior officer here. You should taste it first."

Chekov scowled. "Only if rescue is delayed indefinitely." He chucked the ball back again. It didn't fly straight, changing course unexpectedly so that Sulu missed it by a wide margin. The helmsman retrieved and returned it. It flew even further afield.

Chekov picked it out of water that was now barely knee deep. "The water-filled chamber must be an irregular shape in this one," he said, rolling it in his hands.

Sulu smiled to himself. Chekov's concentration on the gourd was quite natural, but also a most convenient excuse for him not to look at either of his colleagues. Taking advantage of his less inhibited, oriental background, Sulu had been enjoying the occasional glimpses their water games had afforded of both his friends. "Yeah. It moves like a gamma class impulse tug." He held up his hands. "Come on, Ensign. Let's see you compensate."

Chekov responded by flinging the ball, hard, towards the beach. It flew arrow straight, and burst open on impact with Uhura's clothes.

"Did you have to do that!" she yelled. "Brat!"

"It was an accident," Chekov said apologetically. He turned. "I'm sorry," he offered, not sounding quite sure whether he was referring to the fate of Uhura's clothes, or the fact that he'd suddenly come face to face at very close quarters with a communications officer as naked as himself.

"I suppose they'll dry quickly enough," she said dismissively, brushing past him as casually as if they'd been fully clothed. "And if they don't..." She crouched over the debris, and began picking up the limp remnants of the ball. "Damn. It wasn't full of water. This is sticky. And it smells..." She put her hand over her nose protectively. "...completely foul." She bundled her clothes together and held them out to Chekov. "Rinse them out. And if they don't dry out in time, I'll borrow yours, and you can walk stark naked to the beam up point."

Chekov's expression shut down as he accepted the clothes and turned back to the lake. Uhura turned her back on him, and Sulu, and helped herself to Chekov's pants and T-shirt.

"Nyota..."

"What?" She'd opened her bag and was taking out the ration packs.

"I found the balls. You suggested we start throwing them. That one..."

She looked up at him. "These are pretty funny rations."

"What do you mean?"

She laid her own bag back down and opened Chekov's. "I've got three portions of fresh fruit salad, cherry and almond cake and a half bottle of Beaumes de Venise. The brat has three portions of..." She unsealed a square container. "...an amazing Vulcan salad. Chicken, beef, two sorts of samosas, and... freshly squeezed targa nut juice. Mmmmm. How about you?"

Sulu, frowning, opened his own pack. "More fancy stuff. Iced tea. Funny looking bread rolls..."

Uhura came and leaned over his shoulder to take a look. She'd put on Chekov's pants, but only slung his 'T' round her neck.

"Ciabatta, if I'm not mistaken. The black bits are olives."

"That's Karwowski for you. The whole galaxy in one picnic basket."

"Give him credit. If this is lunch, maybe we don't want to miss the barbeque after all."

"But it is very pleasant here."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

Sulu pointed to where Chekov was kneeling in the shallows, wringing the water out of Uhura's freshly rinsed underwear. "He's going to get sand in that cut on his foot."

She jumped up. "I'd forgotten. Where's the medical kit? Pavel..."

The ensign looked over his shoulder at her.

"Stay there. I'm coming to fix your foot."

"It's okay." He shrugged and turned back to the laundry.

She padded over the sand and squatted down next to him. "I'm sorry. My sisters always used to find an excuse to get my clothes wet when we went swimming. My mouth went into automatic. Let me fix that cut before you get sand in it."

"I said, it's okay." He paddled out of the water, splashing forcefully with every step and began laying the clothes out to dry on the sand.

Uhura looked across at Sulu and shrugged. "The medical kit's here when you want it," she said, putting it on the sand and moving away, as if it was a bowl of food for a feral cat.

"Thank you," Chekov responded tersely. He brushed a few grains of sand off her jacket then looked at the three bags, and his two colleagues.

Sulu had picked up his pants, but in a gesture of solidarity, he decided to put them down again. "Shall we eat here, or find something approximating to shade under the trees?" he asked.

"They're not actually trees," Chekov contradicted. "They're..."

"But do you want to eat under one, or burn?"

"I'm wearing sun screen."

Sulu picked up all three bags and began walking up the beach. "If you want lunch, you have to come eat it with us, and I'm eating in the shade. Besides, I hate sand in my sandwiches." He didn't look back to see if his friends were following, concentrating instead on picking a tree at the edge of the beach but with a carpet of fibrous roots at its foot covering the sand of the dunes. When he did look up, Chekov was right behind him, and Uhura was just vanishing behind a denser growth of young trees, in search of temporary privacy. "What are you in such a bad mood about?" he demanded. "She was teasing you."

To Sulu's surprise, the ensign grinned. "I know."

"Then don't spoil the picnic for everyone else," the helmsman insisted, wondering if he was missing some obscure Russian joke.

"I won't." Chekov pulled a survival blanket out of his bag and spread it out on the ground. Sulu looked at it suspiciously. A survival blanket was what should have been in the bag, certainly, but this one was checkered blue and yellow, and could easily have been mistaken for a table cloth. The water flasks were raided for their beakers, and the salads and savouries were swiftly unwrapped.

Chekov reviewed the meal with the air of an admiral carrying out an inspection and nodded briskly to himself.

"Karwowski really has put on a good show," Sulu said uncertainly. The ensign didn't seem in the least surprised by their 'field rations'.

"He is an excellent officer," Chekov agreed. He smiled. "And a good friend, for a Pole."

Uhura appeared again from the direction of the beach. Chekov's pants had vanished. There weren't really any flowers as such on this planet, which seemed a small price to pay for the lack of insects, but she'd woven herself a small garland out of three distinct colours of leaves. She handed one absently to Sulu and presented a third to Chekov. "Pax?"

He frowned, as if he didn't know what she meant.

"I was only joking about borrowing your clothes. Mine will be quite dry enough to wear."

Chekov sat down cross-legged, put his garland beside him on the ground and arranged a paper napkin discretely across his lap.

Sulu scowled at him. He put his own garland onto his head at a drunken angle and said brightly, "Shall we eat?"

"Mm. I'm starving." Uhura sounded like a hostess who, having realised her dinner party guests were not on speaking terms with each other, or her, had decided not to acknowledge this fact. "Wine, Chekov?"

"I thought..." Sulu bit off his objection to the heavenly French dessert wine being served with the hors d'ouevres. Uhura was right. The ensign definitely needed sweetening up.

He hadn't realised, however, that there was a good robust red in his own bag. The communications officer uncorked it and poured it between the three beakers. She raised her own. "Gentlemen, to the Enterprise!"

Chekov joined in the toast. He then held the container of salad out to Uhura. "Lieutenant?"

She took it. "Thank you."

The meal proceeded in near silence but the atmosphere relaxed progressively as the courses were eaten. Both lieutenants opted to lie propped on one elbow to eat, and Chekov gradually slid down into the same position. By the time they'd quarreled over the best bits of fruit in the salad, Sulu was feeling decidedly sleepy and good-natured, and he reckoned his colleagues were in much the same mood.

"Are you going to let me look after your foot now?" Uhura asked, prodding at Chekov with a left over stick of celery.

"Mm?" he responded. His mouth was still full of cake.

"Your foot."

"Oh, yes." He sat up and shuffled over so she could see the injured extremity.

She took his foot in both hands and examined it tenderly. "Hikaru, be an angel and get the medical kit."

Sulu tried to think of a reason, beyond a rather full stomach, why he couldn't. Nurse and patient were occupied, however, so that left him. "Okay." He needed to empty his bladder anyway. He detoured through the trees, then circled down the beach to collect the forgotten kit from the water's edge. He was just returning to the picnic site, reflecting that wandering around naked in a safe setting, with friends you could feel comfortable with, was a very relaxing, refreshing experience, when he heard someone giggle.

"This little piggy..." Uhura was planting a kiss on each of the navigator's toes in turn. She looked up at Sulu. "No one ever played 'this little piggy' with him," she said.

"He probably played 'this little soviet hero pork production unit' instead," Sulu agreed mildly.

"Don't be nasty," Uhura said, ignoring the kit that Sulu was putting down beside her.

Sulu looked at Chekov, and received a perfectly innocent, blank look in return. "Do you two want me to... take a walk or something?"

"No," Chekov said, with surprising haste.

"Oh." Sulu stood undecided for a moment. He really got the feeling, the very unexpected feeling, that he was surplus to requirements here. He tried not to be disappointed by the disintegration of his platonic idyll. Of course, if his friends wanted to... That is, if that was the way it was going to work out... He wasn't going to feel jealous, or anything stupid like that...

Uhura tapped him on the side of the leg. "Sit down. You're making the planet look untidy."

He folded down onto his knees. "But..."

Chekov rolled over onto his back, stretching his arms above his head. The cold water had left both men with the unthreatening proportions of Michaelangelo's David. Chekov was definitely recovering, and Uhura seemed to be pretending not to notice. She leaned up against Sulu and lifted Chekov's feet into her lap. "This little piggy..." She kissed the smallest, slightly crooked toe on his left foot. "And... this little piggy..." signalled a kiss to the underside of his instep. Chekov sighed, long and loud. And happy.

Sulu, despite the warm pressure of Uhura's shoulder against his, was still feeling like a fifth wheel. They must realise how uncomfortable they were making him, and yet Chekov had been so insistent that he shouldn't leave. Maybe the ensign hadn't yet noticed that this was turning into a seduction. No, that was ridiculous... But on the other hand, his friends just weren't that inconsiderate... Taking a deep breath, and bracing himself to issue a quick apology if Uhura retaliated by slapping his face, he slid an arm round her waist. She responded by nestling closer to him, so he moved it up a little, to cup one of her breasts.

"You've changed your policy on boarders, then?" he asked, just to be on the safe side.

"I think so."

"What made you do that?"

"Mmm. I don't know." She put Chekov's feet down, straightened his legs for him, and ran one hand up beyond his right knee, stopping coyly at mid-thigh. His erection was now pronounced enough to move under its own power. It greeted her closeness with a little jump. She smiled broadly, and taking Sulu's spare hand, placed it on her own thigh, then dipped her hand down to apply sudden, unexpected stimulation to his own incipient arousal.

"Are we... doing what I think we're doing?"

"Depends," Uhura told him, in her most sultry tones. "Is it okay with you?"

"I guess it is."

"Then I think we are. Mmmm." She turned to give him a long, mostly chaste kiss. It wasn't the first time Sulu had kissed Uhura, and they hadn't always stopped at kissing. They'd just never turned it into a public exhibition before. He glanced nervously at Chekov. The ensign still had his eyes shut, but his hands were braced against the tree trunk, and he was arching his back. Uhura was stroking the inside of his thigh with her fingers. Well, he decided, so long as Chekov wasn't actually looking...

"Get up on your hands and knees," he whispered in Uhura's ear. She grinned at him and complied, positioning herself with her knees either side of Chekov's, and her free hand level with his waist. The other hand continued its gentle stimulation of the navigator's skin without a break.

"Aaaah," Sulu sighed extravagantly. She pushed her hips back into his and dipped her head down. A groan from Chekov told him exactly why.

"If someone was to come by now," Sulu speculated dreamily, "we could be court martialled for dereliction of duty, conduct unbecoming, fraternisation..."

"Gross indecency," Chekov added.

"Yeah, that too. And breach of general order 972, subsection D..."

"No one has ever been prosecuted for a breach of 972D," Uhura interrupted before returning her attention to the navigator's now rigid erection.

"But that isn't the same as saying no one's ever done it. Old fashioned revolver in the desk drawer for that one," Sulu agreed.

"What is general order 972, subsection D?" Chekov asked, in a voice that caught every time Uhura ran her tongue over his more sensitive places.

"Honey, stop asking questions and start using your hands," Uhura suggested.

"I can't reach anything interesting. What is 972D?"

"If you were to turn round, Pavel, you might find you could do something useful with your mouth." This time it was Sulu, sounding at once impatient and helpful. Chekov blinked at him, then extricated himself from their human cat's cradle and took up position again, correctly located to properly appreciate Uhura's breasts while she continued to pay homage to his erection. Sulu never missed a stroke through the whole manoeuvre.

"So 972D is..?" Chekov hinted a few minutes later.

Sulu caressed Uhura's left flank, finishing with a little pat to her thigh. "Most of the regulations are designed to stop more senior officers taking advantage of younger, junior Starfleet personnel..."

"I'm not complaining," Chekov gasped.

"972D is for junior officers who seduce their elders and betters..."

"...By playing hurt little boy."

Chekov opened his eyes and looked at his elders... and superiors. Or at least, he looked at Uhura's breasts, which continued to move with a regular rhythm, strongly suggesting that Sulu was too interested in what he was doing to care about Chekov's reaction to his last remark.

"If I had waited for either of you to make a move, I would be living in a retirement home in Yalta by the time..."

"Fine," Sulu interrupted. His movements were definitely accelerating now.

"Aaah," Uhura said, rather unhelpfully.

Chekov, in turn, was beginning to feel decidely surplus to requirements, like a third warp nacelle.

"Aaa..."

"I apologise!" he blurted, but he wasn't sure either lieutenant noticed. They seemed to be particularly preoccupied at that precise moment. Chekov rolled out from under them just as knees and elbows collapsed and they hit the ground. He sat up and stared at the lake.

"Pav..."

He waited a moment before answering without turning. "Yes?" He felt someone sit down close behind him, breasts pressed close up against his back, warm breath on his neck. His erection was still firmly in evidence. Brown hands took hold of it. Another pair of legs appeared either side of Uhura's and he felt Sulu's hands settle on his shoulders and squeeze companionably.

"Welcome to the team."