(or Yet Another Innovative Use of Plot Device #243)

by Skazitelnitsky

"Finding anything in that aft compartment, Chekov?" Sulu called to his companion.

"Nothing useful," the navigator called in reply.

Uhura broke the communications link with a snap and a sigh.

"What's the verdict?" Sulu asked turning to her.

The communications officer sighed again. "Two to eight hours."

The helmsman sighed himself. The Enterprise had been unlucky enough to arrive at Tyroan IV during the hyphesite storm season. This violent meteorological condition made local navigation hazardous and transporter landings inadvisable. Most of the crew who had been granted shore leave had made it to their destinations before the current storm system hit. Chekov, Sulu, and Uhura were among the unfortunate few whose duty schedules kept them on the ship a crucial few hours later.

The communications officer had been quite distraught. She'd bought tickets for a concert that she had her heart set on attending. Sulu had bet Chekov that he could beat the storm front to the town where the concert was being held and Captain Kirk -- perhaps only to rid the ship of the constant stream of despondent sighs emanating from the communications station -- had agreed to let him try.

The helmsman had lost the bet. They'd managed to land at one of the numerous shelter units that dotted the planet. This one was little more than a cave in the side of a mountain. There was a small l dock, ample enough to easily accommodate the shuttle, and living quarters for weathering out the storm.

"Two to eight, huh?" Sulu shrugged. "You've got to love that Tyroanian accuracy."

"The nature of the meteorological disturbance combined with certain topological irregularities of the planet make greater accuracy impossible," Chekov said, emerging from the back. "It is somewhat similar to Brendezeri III's...."

"Please." Uhura held up a hand. "If I'm going to be here for eight hours, I don't want to spend it talking about the weather."

"We might just be here two," Sulu, the optimist, pointed out.

"Unless another storm system develops," Chekov, the pessimist, felt compelled to add. "In that case, we might be here for days."

"Oh, joy," Uhura said, collapsing into one of the chairs around a small table in the middle of the room. "All right, gentlemen. Other than talking about the weather or monitoring the comm system so we can listen to other people talk about the weather, what are our entertainment options?"

Sulu put his hands on his hips and surveyed their temporary quarters. The small chamber didn't seem to hold a lot of promise. Food, water, and air filtration equipment were supplied, but little beyond that.

"There is a deck of cards in the aft compartment," Chekov said.

Sulu brightened. "And I thought you said there was nothing useful back there."

Chekov shrugged as he went to fetch them. "They didn't seem essential at the time."

"And what's that next to them?" Uhura asked as the ensign drew the cards out of a storage unit just inside the doorway to the next chamber.

"This?" The ensign held up a decanter. "It's Keirian brandy."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Uhura said, beckoning him forward.

Sulu nodded. "I've heard it's delicious."

"Well.." Chekov seemed reluctant for some reason.

"Bring it to me," Uhura ordered, reaching behind her for glasses.

"Well..." The ensign wasn't moving.

Sulu took the bottle from him. "Nice color," he said briefly holding it up to the light, then uncorking the top. "Ah, what a bouquet!"

"Enough of the wine review," Uhura said, holding up a glass.

"I don't think this is appropriate," Chekov said unexpectedly.

Both lieutenants blinked at him.

"We may be here for some time," he explained uncomfortably. "It may be unwise to drink...."

Sulu frowned as the ensign let his sentence trail off. He thought he knew Chekov very well, but he'd never seen the Russian's puritanical side before.

"Honey, you can do what you want," Uhura said. "But I am off duty, stuck in this hole for eight hours, and drinking as much of this brandy as I damn well please. Is that understood?"

Chekov swallowed hard. "Yes, of course," he replied, seeming very abashed.

Uhura took a large, defiant sip. "Mmm. It is good. You going to do some inappropriate drinking, Sulu?"

"I think I might," the helmsman agreed lightly, not wanting to hurt Chekov's feelings, but still wanting the brandy. He sat down at the table and gestured for the navigator to do the same. "What are we playing?"

"Depends on what kind of cards we have," Uhura said practically.

"They're Tyroanian," Chekov said apologetically as he handed the pack to her.

"No surprise there," Sulu said, pouring himself a glass. "We can probably still play Finagle's Gambit, though."

"Let me see," Uhura said, separating the cards out into suits.

The helmsman sipped the brandy. It was interesting beverage, fruity and heavily spiced. "Sure you won't have a little, Chekov?"

"No. It makes me..." For some reason, the Russian blushed. "...giddy."

"That's the whole purpose of brandy, Sugar," Uhura said, counting cards. "Finagle's Gambit is out, but we could play Jaclar."

"That sounds good," Sulu agreed. "All right with you, Chekov?"

The navigator nodded, but still seemed ill at ease.

Sulu puzzled over the Russian's stiffness as the cards were dealt. He knew some ensigns might find it intimidating to socialize with more senior officers, however Chekov had never shown signs of such timidity. Since the navigator wasn't too far from becoming a lieutenant himself, it seemed a strange time to start.

"The squares are like clubs, the hexagons are hearts, and the triangles are like trillas," Uhura explained, rearranging her cards.

Jaclar was a game that demanded concentration -- especially when played with an unfamiliar deck. They played the first hand in silence.

"I win," Uhura said at last, laying down a geometric flush.

"Are we keeping score?" Sulu said, taking another sip of brandy.

Uhura nodded, as she gathered and reshuffled the cards. "At least for the first eight hours."

The more one drank of Keirian brandy, the better it seemed to get. Sulu could feel a pleasantly warm glow spreading down to his fingertips as he picked up his cards.

His luck ran better this time and the helmsman managed to take the second hand.

"This is good stuff," Uhura said, topping off her glass.

"Are you sure you won't have a little?" Sulu asked, sweeping up the cards for his deal.

Chekov smiled uncomfortably. "No, thank you."

It was odd, Sulu reflected as he distributed the cards. He knew the Russian preferred vodka, but he'd never seen Chekov turn down a drink before. Maybe this was some sort of self-improvement thin g in preparation for the ensign's upcoming officer evaluation examinations.

The second hand ended in a push. Sulu re-dealt.

"Do they produce this locally?" Uhura asked swirling the dark liquid lazily.

"No," Chekov answered. "It's made in the Montari colonies."

The communications officer held up her glass. "God bless the Montari,"

"Every one," Sulu agreed.

Uhura won the next hand. As she distributed the cards, Sulu noticed that Chekov didn't seem to be paying attention to the game. The ensign was chewing his lower lip and kept darting furtive glance s at the two lieutenants from beneath his long lashes. Sulu smiled. Rather than the condemning puritan, the navigator now seemed like a fidgety schoolboy. Instead of being annoying, Chekov's nervousness now seemed.. a little sexy.

"For some reason, this stuff reminds me of the last leave we had on Rigel IV," Uhura said, as she again laid down a flush.

Sulu grinned in remembrance. "That was a good time."

The next hand she dealt him was abysmal, but the helmsman didn't care. It was very pleasant to be sitting here just playing cards with his friends. Not that bad a way to spend one's leave, really.

"Ensign," Uhura said suddenly. "If you don't quit looking at me, you're going to be spending the next eight hours out in the dock with the shuttle."

Chekov blushed deeply. "Sorry."

"And for God's sake, drink something," she said, pushing the bottle towards him. "You're making me nervous."

The navigator sighed. "I suppose I might as well," he said, resignedly pouring himself a glass.

"That's the spirit," Uhura encouraged.

The ensign took a long look at the glass, then said something to it in Russian.

"Whatever," she toasted back.

In a welcome return to normal behavior, Chekov downed half the glass in one gulp, then turned over his cards. "I think I may have a straight."

"About time," Uhura applauded.

Chekov dealt the next hand.

"I wish you hadn't mentioned Rigel," Sulu said, after a few minutes. "I can't quit thinking about it now."

"From what I heard, you had a very good time there," Uhura said, rearranging her cards.

Sulu grinned ruefully, amazed that this very old piece of gossip was still in circulation. "You can't believe everything you hear."

"Oh, I don't believe any of it... except the part about aerial maneuvers with a certain technician from Starbase 12," Uhura teased.

"For once and for all, I never, ever...."

"That's what we should play," Uhura interrupted. "I Never... That is unless Chekov's thinks it's inappropriate."

"Of course not," the navigator replied immediately.

"Really?" she pressed.

"Of course," he affirmed.

"You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"No," the ensign admitted.

Sulu had to laugh at his helm partner.

"I like the attitude, though," Uhura defended the navigator. "Okay. I Never is a drinking game. When it's your turn, you say something that you've never done. If someone else in the group has d one the thing you name, they have to take a drink."

"Mmm." Chekov nodded thoughtfully. "I would seem to have an advantage in this game."

Sulu raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I am less experienced than the two of you," he replied, and then seemed puzzled at how greatly this amused his fellow officers.

"In I Never, you're talking about sexual exploits," Sulu explained.

"Oh." Chekov nodded slowly. "Oh."

"Still think you've got the advantage?" Uhura asked.

"Uh... no," the ensign replied, "Perhaps not."

"You sure this isn't too... inappropriate?" she teased.

Chekov glanced at the bottle of brandy. "That's not for me to decide."

"Okay, I'll start," She tapped her lips thoughtfully. "I've never... done it with twins."

"Done it?" Chekov repeated.

"Had sex with," Sulu translated. "And do you mean twins together or singly?"

"I mean Melissa and Alissia Wong, actually," Uhura specified sweetly.

Sulu put up his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I'm drinking."

"Your turn, Chekov."

The ensign pondered this for a moment. "I've never had sexual relations with an Andorian."

Uhura and Sulu looked at each other expectantly.

"Thought he was onto something there," the communications officer sighed, disappointedly. "Your turn, Sulu."

"Mmmm..." The helmsman flipped through his old gossip file. "I've never done it in the Rec Room."

"That," Uhura said, picking up her glass, "is a malicious rumor and a product of someone else's wishful thinking."

Sulu grinned. "Then why are you drinking?"

"Because I know you don't believe me. On the other hand..." Uhura pursed her lips and batted her eyelashes. "I have never given anyone sexual favors in a turbo lift."

"Now that's just...." Sulu said, shaking his head.

"You know, honey," Uhura said, reaching out to pat his hand, "even if you've got the turbo lift in maintenance lock, the intercoms still work... that is, they do if you should happen to accidentall y lean back against one in a fit of passion."

"Oh, my God." Sulu suddenly needed the drink he was required to take.

"A turbo lift?" Chekov repeated.

"If you have the control codes, you can put them into maintenance lock so that you can continue uninterrupted for hours at the time," Uhura informed the ensign.

The helmsman covered his eyes.

"See, it's an educational game too," Uhura said, very nicely.

"Next!" Sulu requested.

"All right." Chekov bit his lip as he pondered the possibilities. "I have never..." The navigator paused, then giggled. "Oh, yes, actually I have."

Uhura rolled her eyes as the ensign took a drink. "He's playing with himself."

"To coin a phrase." Sulu replied. There was something not quite right about the Russian. Chekov wasn't normally much of a giggler.

Uhura also seemed suspicious. "Honey," she said slowly. ""Giddy' isn't Russian for `horny', is it?"

The navigator giggled again. "What?"

"Oh, God." Sulu suddenly recognized the warm glow he was feeling. "Chekov, does Keirian brandy contain an aphrodisiac?"

Chekov measured a small space between his forefinger and thumb. "Only a little one."

"Why the hell didn't you say something?" Uhura demanded.

"I did," the ensign reminded them, then shrugged. "The relative efficacy of the chemical is highly disputed."

"Oh?" Sulu asked dubiously. "All right, it's my turn. I have never had sex with a total stranger after consuming a quantity of Keirian brandy."

"Ah." The ensign picked up his glass. "That calls for a big drink.... Two, actually.... Or was it three?"

As Chekov lifted his glass, the two lieutenants shared a look.

"We're screwed," Uhura pronounced.

"Literally." Sulu agreed.

The communications officer watched as the navigator took his third sip. "If he wasn't looking so cute to me right now, I'd have to kill him."

"Ah," Chekov sighed, putting down his glass. "That's better. Thus far, the two of you have had the game to yourselves."

"Oh, so you want in the game, huh? Okay," Uhura folded her hands primly. "I've never licked a woman's feet and got off on it."

Chekov didn't move a muscle, but his cheeks suddenly became very, very pink.

"Drink up, honey." Uhura grinned. "Or are you waiting for me to specify times and dates?"

"A foot fetish, huh?" Sulu said as the ensign choked down a mouthful of brandy. "Uhura, how do you find these things out?"

"Oh, I'll never tell," she replied sweetly. "At least not until it's my turn again."

Chekov looked at the communications officer with blood in his eyes. "I've never..." he began with a vengeance, but inspiration failed him.

"I bet you haven't," Uhura taunted.

"...had sexual relations with..."

"Animal, vegetable, or mineral?" she teased.

It looked as if the ensign got a truly wicked idea, then at the last moment reconsidered. "...A man," he finished lamely instead.

"Well, it took him long enough to think of that one," Uhura said, clinking her glass against Sulu's before they both took a drink.

From over the top of his glass, the helmsman could see the navigator staring at him with his mouth slightly open.

"Don't even pretend that you are surprised," Uhura scolded him.

"Pardon me," Chekov said, quickly closing his mouth and attempting to re-gather his shattered aplomb by picking up his drink.

"You're drinking too?" Uhura asked him.

The ensign froze and set the cup back down as if it contained poison. "No, no... Uhm, I believe it's someone else's turn now."

Uhura looked at Sulu. "You mean he really didn't know?"

Sulu shrugged and smiled, although the violence Chekov's reaction worried him. "I guess not."

"But... but..." the words seemed to burst from the ensign uncontrollably. "You like girls."

"And women sometimes," Uhura corrected.

"The two tastes aren't mutually exclusive," Sulu explained gently.

"Oh," Chekov replied numbly, the shocked and somewhat betrayed expression still on his face. "Oh."

Uhura held up her palm as if calling for a witness. "Chekov, I am not believing that you are this naive."

"I'm sorry if I'm being offensive," the ensign apologized defensively. "Please, let's go on. Play the game."

A thick silence settled over two thirds of the table.

"Your turn, Sulu," Uhura, the only unaffected party, prompted.

The fun had suddenly gone out of the game for Sulu. Chekov had been right. This was inappropriate. Why had he ever agreed to this? This was the way friendships ended. His anxiety boiled into anger as he caught a furtive, accusing glance from the ensign.

Sulu sat back, crossed his arms and met his fellow officer's gaze boldly. "And yes, I do find you attractive."

That stopped Chekov from looking at him.

Uhura lightly drummed her fingers against the table top as she looked back and forth between them. "If you boys would like to be alone...."

"No," Chekov said a little too quickly.

Sulu sighed and took the opportunity to top off his glass.

Uhura frowned. "If this is some sort of homophobic thing on your part, Chekov," she warned, "I don't think I'm going to be able to deal with it nicely."

"No, no," he assured her hastily, then made of point of making eye contact with Sulu and repeating, "No. It's not that. I am merely... surprised."

Sulu gave him a ghost of a smile. The lieutenant was limited in the amount of encouragement he could take from the ensign's willingness to meet his eyes by the knowledge that Chekov was the sort of a person who would make a point of making eye contact with the very Devil if the two of them happened to meet. "That's okay."

"Well, that's good," Uhura said.

Despite this truce, another heavy silence settled around the table.

Chekov reached for the bottle. "I thought we were friends," he said very quietly as he poured himself another serving of the brandy.

"We are friends," Sulu insisted.

"I hope you'd know it if the two of you were lovers," Uhura commented sarcastically.

"It was never the right time or place to tell you," Sulu said, ignoring her. "Not that this is the right time or place. I'm sorry it came out this way."

"Sulu, don't be apologizing to him," Uhura said.

"No, no. He's right. We are friends and that's the sort of thing friends just don't spring on each other out of the blue." He looked at Chekov. The ensign was still making eye contact that seemed more resolute than voluntary. The helmsman turned to Uhura. "Not only have I said that I sleep with men, I told him I was attracted to him. The man deserves a minute to take it in."

"Okay, ensign," Uhura said seriously, "You heard him. You've got a minute. Are you taking it all in?"

Chekov nodded slowly. "I believe so."

"And are you still surprised?"

"Yes," he answered honestly.

"As surprised as you were a minute ago?"

Chekov looked at Sulu. "No."

"Okay, then let's play the game. It's your turn, Sulu."

"I think I've had enough for one night."

"Okay," Uhura said, resettling into her chair. "Then it's just you and me, ensign. And you are going down in flames, tovarish."

The ensign's eyes widened. "What?"

"The gloves are off, Sugar." Uhura confirmed. "I am on your ass like ugly on a Tellerite. You're downing that whole bottle one painful sip at a time. You're going to be amazed at the things that float around on the comm lines. That foot thing was just the tip of the old Russian iceberg, comrade."

"Sulu." Chekov turned to his friend almost as a reflex.

"He can't help you now," the communications officer said, reaching over and filling the ensign's glass to the rim. "You're at my mercy,.. and I have no mercy."

Chekov blinked at her. Sulu had seen more confident deers facing headlights.

"Okay, okay," the helmsman said to forestall the slaughter. "I'm in. And it was my turn, right?"

"Go for it," Uhura invited.

"Okay, I've never fantasized about Captain Kirk."

"Oh, you bitch," Uhura complained congenially as she took a drink. She raised an eyebrow at Chekov as she set her glass down. "Why aren't you drinking?"

Chekov's mouth dropped open. "I have never..."

"Oh, I've seen you give him looks with those puppy dog eyes of yours that would melt butter, Sugar."

"I.. I.. admire him, but I've never thought of..." Chekov stammered then pointed to Sulu. "He's not drinking either."

"Just because I've slept with men doesn't mean that I'm attracted to all men," Sulu said.

"He's got you there, baby," Uhura said. "Now `fess up and drink up."

Chekov was frowning at Sulu. "You're not attracted to the captain, but you are attracted to me?" he said, as if stating an equation that wouldn't balance out properly.

"Take a compliment when it's given to you, honey," Uhura advised. "You know you're gorgeous."

Chekov laughed into his brandy. "Hardly."

"Shit," she said, dismissing this as mere coyness. "I'd do you."

The ensign smiled and shook his head. "No, you wouldn't. It's very flattering that you say you would, but in reality you wouldn't."

"Don't tell me what I wouldn't do." The lieutenant leaned back in her chair and gave the navigator a long appraising look. "I'd do you. I'd do you in a minute, baby."

Chekov laughed and looked to Sulu for confirmation that he was being teased.

"What are you laughing at?" Uhura demanded.

Chekov shrugged. "I think it would take longer than a minute."

"Oh, he talks big," Uhura said, leaning forward. "But does the young man have the stuff to back it up?"

The ensign continued to laugh disbelievingly. "If only you were serious."

"What if I am?" Uhura asked challengingly. "You saying you wouldn't do it with me?"

"No," Chekov said, a little uncomfortably. "Of course not. If you were serious.... You are a very lovely woman..."

"Be glad you didn't say `girl,' Sugar," Uhura commented.

"You are one of the most intelligent, sophisticated and very, very beautiful..." Realizing he was beginning to babble, Chekov cut himself off mid-gush. "That is to say, if you were serious, I wou ld be insane to say no."

"Well," Uhura said, putting down her glass, "then I'll finally get the answer to something I've always wondered about you -- is the boy insane?"

Chekov laughed again while giving Sulu another mute plea for guidance. "You're not serious, though."

"I am as serious as Spock fifteen minutes after your last report was due," she affirmed, then held up a qualifying finger. "With the clear understanding that this is a blue-light, once-in-a-lifeti me, never to be repeated, no guarantees, no money back special. Do you take my meaning, ensign?"

Chekov licked his lips as he tried to process the long string of cultural obscurities. "I think so."

"And one other condition." Uhura leaned back and put her arm around Sulu. "You've got to do both of us... Or have both of us do you... however you want to look at it."

"No." Sulu ducked out from under her arm. "He's already made it clear that he's not interested in that sort of thing."

"Has he?" Uhura asked the ensign.

Chekov shrugged bravely. "Have I?"

"You're the one who's not being serious now," Sulu accused.

"What if I am?" the ensign responded, mimicking Uhura's challenging style.

"See." The communication's officer nudged the helmsman in the side. "You've got his curiosity up."

"Yeah, and the brandy's taking care of everything else," Sulu replied. "No, I think we're going too far now. I'm not going to kid around about something like this."

"What if I am ...curious?" Chekov asked, his round brown eyes suddenly very serious.

"And... uh, giddy?" Uhura added.

"You wouldn't be willing to... as the Lieutenant says, have a red light..."

"Blue light," Uhura corrected.

"...Experience. Never to be repeated?"

Those eyes were excruciatingly hard to resist. "Chekov," he began slowly. "This isn't some game. This isn't the sort of thing you just do for the hell of it."

Uhura snorted. "And this from the man who gave Sidney Geller a blow job in the turbo lift."

Chekov crossed his arms. "I thought you said you were attracted to me."

"It's not a matter of that."

"Then what is the problem?"

"Yeah, Lieutenant," Uhura chimed in. "Put up or shut up... so to speak."

"Okay," Sulu set his glass down. "Since we're pretending to seriously consider this... In all honesty, if we were to have sex, I couldn't promise that I'd never want to do it again."

Chekov didn't reply, but all hints of a smile faded from his mouth.

"And I don't think you'd be comfortable with that," Sulu said.

"Speaking of comfort," Uhura said, rising. "If we do do it, I'm not screwing anyone on a card table... or on the floor."

"There's a bed in the aft compartment," Chekov replied, supplying the information somewhat automatically. However his eyes never left Sulu's.

"Hmm." Uhura took the bottle with her as she half-lurched through the doorway to the other room. "I'll reconnoiter."

Chekov laughed apologetically. "I think she's a little drunk."

"Are you?" Sulu asked a little unkindly. "Is that what this is all about?"

The ensign pushed his glass away purposefully. "Sulu, at this moment, I am feeling remarkably sober."

"Just a minute ago you were feeling...." Sulu went through a list of choices such as betrayed, disgusted, offended, and shocked before settling on the euphemistic, "...surprised."

Chekov nodded. "I am still surprised."

"But now you're also..." Sulu cocked his head to one side dubiously. "...curious?"

"Yes," the navigator confirmed. "Which is surprising to me as well."

"This would change our relationship forever," Sulu warned.

"I know. But I trust you, Sulu. If I am to do this thing, it is better to do it with someone I trust."

"Why do it at all?"

"Well..." Chekov pointed to the aft compartment with his eyes. Uhura was making the most invitingly sensuous yawning noise Sulu had ever heard a human being utter.

"You want to have sex with her that badly?"

Chekov folded his hands on the tabletop and leaned forward. "More badly than you can possibly imagine," he replied softly and in deadly earnest.

Sulu laughed. "You are insane."

"And I am assuming you won't...." The ensign paused to consider his wording for a moment. "...do anything ...unpleasant... to me."

Sulu grinned. Now this was the Chekov he knew -- impulsive, yes, but also pragmatic to the nth degree. A little dabbling in homosexual intercourse with a friend had been weighed and found to be a reasonable exchange for a chance at a covertly long lusted after female.

"And aren't you..." Chekov's smile was sinfully bold. "...curious as well?"

Sulu took a moment to think it over before he put his glass down. Moving slowly and deliberately, he leaned forward and put his hand around the back of the navigator's neck.

Chekov automatically started to pull back, but he quickly caught himself. Lifting his chin a little, he forced himself to remain still and meet the lieutenant's eyes.

Sulu loved Chekov's bravery. It was not simple, ignorant fearlessness -- although the ensign was capable of that on occasion. What Sulu admired was Chekov's ability to look what frightened or thre atened him unblinkingly in the eye. Finding it very ironic to suddenly find himself the thing that was intimidating his friend, the lieutenant lowered his lips to the ensign's.

Chekov responded rather woodenly. With their lips still joined, their eyes met. Sulu could see Chekov struggling with the cognitive dissonance of finding himself nose to nose with his co-worker an d superior officer.

"This is very odd," the ensign commented apologetically.

Sulu nodded. "We don't even call each other by our first names, do we?"

Chekov shook his head. He wasn't pulling away, though. The lieutenant was impressed by his resolve.

"Hello, Pavel," he said, kissing the ensign again.

Chekov took a deep breath and followed suit. "Hikaru."

The ensign's commitment was still somewhat lacking. "This is odd," he repeated again as an apology. As if to make up for his lack of enthusiasm, he then added sincerely, "You do kiss well, though ."

"Thank you." Sulu rewarded him with another. He then reproved mildly, "I can't tell if you do or not."

The lieutenant could see sparks light up the other man's eyes.

"Oh, really?" With a look of determination, the ensign cupped Sulu's face in his hands and applied his lips with a ferocity that took the lieutenant's breath away.

The Russian then spread his hands in a gesture that invited critique.

"Better," the helmsman nodded judiciously. "But you can be more aggressive, you know. I won't break."

The ensign's eyes narrowed. Clamping one hand on each of the lieutenant's shoulders, he jerked his fellow officer forward into a kiss so violent it threatened to dislodge the helmsman's tonsils.

"And that?" Chekov asked confidently upon releasing him.

Sulu pursed and flexed his lips as if evaluating the flavor of a fine wine. "Lacked some finesse. Don't be afraid use your tongue... that is, if you know how."

Chekov muttered a Russian noise that sounded like a rude speculation on the marital status of the lieutenant's parents at the time of his birth. The ensign then pulled his chair forward and surveye d the challenge before him. He slid a firm hand around to the middle of Sulu's back and with the other tilted his partner's head to one side. He then opened the lieutenant's lips into the sort of k iss Sulu had always imagined Chekov would give -- one given not only with his whole mouth, but his whole heart as well. It was the sort of kiss that made the recipient's toes tingle with delight... and caused sympathetic vibrations in other less mentionable extremities as well.

"I can't believe you boys have started without me."

Chekov froze mid-kiss. Sulu immediately assumed the ensign was paralyzed with embarrassment at having been discovered in an embrace with the helmsman. When he turned, the lieutenant discovered hi s friend's arrested motor control was actually in response to the fact Uhura had emerged from the aft compartment wearing only the red briefs that went with her now-missing uniform.

"Some ground rules, gentlemen," Uhura said, lifting one finger -- as if either of the two men was paying attention to that part of her anatomy. "'Yes' means `continue' or `I enjoyed that.' `No' m eans `stop immediately if not sooner.' We will use these terms clearly and unambiguously to mean these things and these things only. Understood?"

When Chekov didn't respond, the communications officer stepped forward. Lifting his chin with one finger, she simultaneously closed his mouth and directed his eyes towards her face. "Understood, E nsign?"

Chekov nodded vigorously.

"As a general rule, small talk is to be avoided," she continued. "Particularly of the `After you,' `No, I insist. After you' variety. Got it?"

The ensign cleared his throat, but his answering, "Got it" still came out sounding a little hoarse.

"And above all," she said, including Sulu in her warning gesture, "at no time is there to be any debate on the moral/ethical/legal and/or professional ramifications of what we are doing ... And esp ecially no discussion on the physics involved in accomplishing anything we attempt. Understood?"

Sulu shrugged amiably. "You're the boss."

She smiled and patted his cheek. "I like a man who realizes that. Ensign, is there any particular reason why you're still wearing that shirt?"

Chekov roused himself with a shake. "Uh... no," he replied, rapidly removing the offending garment.

"Sulu," the communications officer ordered regally. "Pick up the bottle. Chekov, pick up me."

The ensign had to blink twice before he comprehended what he'd been asked to do. He scooped Uhura up into his arms easily and kissed her without waiting to be given prior permission.

"Shall we proceed aft, gentlemen?" she asked, unfazed.

"Yes, ma'am," her willing subject replied with a fervor that made Sulu smile as he followed them into the next room.

The bed itself took up most of the space in the tiny windowless chamber. Sulu noted that someone, probably Uhura, had thoughtfully put out various optional supplies on the self over the headboard. Chekov was so busy enjoying the lieutenant's lips he walked into the footboard with a thud.

"Careful," Uhura cautioned, climbing out his arms and standing on the mattress. "We're going to start," she said, hooking her fingers into the sides of her briefs and sliding them off, "with m y feet."

A small noise of what could only be described as anguished delight escaped from Chekov. He swallowed and pretended it had been inaudible. "If you like."

She lifted the Russian's chin. "Note that I am saying we start with the feet. Not finish. Can we manage this, Sugar?"

"Yes," Chekov promised reverently, his eyes wandering back downwards. "Oh, yes. Definitely."

"Then take off those boots and let's get to it."

Sulu put his hands on his hips. "And what am I supposed to do? Read?"

Uhura smiled as she lowered herself on to the mattress. "From what I've heard, in situations like this, you usually like to start out by watching."

"Damn," Sulu said, duly impressed by her accuracy, as he pulled off his tunic. "Where do you get your information?"

"Let's just say a little birdie told me," Uhura said, stretching one foot out into Chekov's eager hands.

"Dove Lemont?" Sulu guessed. "Aaron Sparrow? No, Cynthia Eagle Russet, right?"

"How many birds do you..." Uhura broke off into a little moan as the Russian gently bit into her insole. "Just shut up and get your ass in bed, Lieutenant."

"Aye-aye, Lieutenant." Sulu grinned as he pulled off his trousers.

"Mmmm-mmm." The communications officer closed her eyes appreciatively as Chekov nibbled his way to the back of her heel.

"You have a foot fetish too?" Sulu asked, getting into bed behind her so that his shoulders were propped against the pillows cushioning the headboard and her shoulders were resting comfortably agai nst his chest.

"I didn't before," Uhura admitted, resting her cheek against the helmsman's neck, "but I might now."

Sulu smiled as he watched the lieutenant's hips writhe in sympathy to the stimulation of her instep. "I think you're on to something here, Chekov."

The Russian made no reply, continuing diligently at his task instead.

"Oh, yes," Uhura sighed. "There is a reason why God gave the boy such a big mouth.... Oh... yeeesssss."

"That good, hmm?" Sulu asked, carefully removing the hairpins from her coiffure.

"The toes," she murmured. "Yes. I want the toes now. Oh, yes, he's going for the toes. Oh, good boy.... Oh, yes ...oh, yes... No, don't suck... Yes... Oh, yes! Suck them. Definitely. Suck t hose toes hard, baby! OH, yeeesssss."

"Pace yourself, lieutenant," Sulu teased, rubbing her temples. "As you said, we're only starting with the feet... And you've got a whole other foot to go."

"You bet your ass I do," she growled sensuously. "Ah...Ah.." Her voice traveled musically up an octave an a half. "Oh, sweet Lord... the tops of the feet. I have never even thought about the to p of the feet."

"You sure you're going to make it?" he asked again playfully as he moved his hands to massage her plump, firm breasts.

"Just wait," she replied, her own hands traveling back to caress the lieutenant's hips. "We'll see how long your last when he sucks your.... Ah, yes! Sugar, you are an angel."

The object of her praise did not let such compliments distract him from the methodical completion of his work. The ensign put her feet together, smoothly transferring his attentions from the left t o the right without any mood-breaking gap between the two.

"I love your skin," Sulu commented, tracing circles around her nipples. "It's always so warm."

"It's a nice color too," she replied agreeably.

"And so smooth." He let his hands slide down to her rounded belly. "I just love to touch you."

"Well, indulge yourself, Sugar," she said, kissing him on the neck. "I think it must be Wednesday."

Sulu grinned. "Anything-Can-Happen day?"

"You got it, Mouseketeer," she confirmed, then turned her attention to her other subject. "Hey, Chekov."

The ensign looked up, his lips still connected to a metatarsus.

"Any particular reason why you've still got those pants on?"

The Russian had to consider this for a moment before shaking his head.

"Then take them off, honey."

Chekov managed to accomplish this without ever letting his tongue break contact with the pads of her feet.

"He's good," Uhura sighed. "He's damned good."

"Mmm-hmm." Sulu replied, intrigued by something other than the ensign's aptitude for alternative forms of massage.

"Oooh." Uhura arched her back. "You seem impressed."

"He really likes feet, doesn't he?"

Uhura nodded. "And though it might not be as apparent to the naked eye, my feet feel the same way about him right now."

They both fell to silent appreciation of the Russian's enthusiasm for his task.

"Oh, yes...." Uhura was fairly purring by the time the ensign rounded her heel and started working his way down her ankle. "You are being a very, very good boy. You're going to get a very special reward for this."

When Chekov reached the tips of her toes again, he looked up and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes, I think you've paid the admission price." Uhura laid the back of her hand on her thigh and beckoned to the ensign. "Come on in, Sugar. The water's fine. Isn't it, Sulu?"

"Oh, yes," the lieutenant confirmed amiably, since his hands had been lingering in that vicinity recently.

Chekov looked like a big cat stalking cornered prey as he got onto his hands and knees to crawl up the mattress towards them.

"Wait." Uhura stopped him before he settled in between her legs. "You've got to pace yourself, Sugar. Slow and easy. Just relax and enjoy it. But remember we've still got a lot more to do."

Chekov nodded solemnly, agreeing to this as he would have to any request from her at this point.

Uhura didn't let Sulu withdraw his hands. Instead she pushed them towards the ensign so that both lieutenants' hands would be guiding the navigator into position.

Chekov gave a delicious sigh as he entered her.

"Oh, yes." Uhura ran her hand approvingly up and down the navigator's spine. "He's being a very good boy. Isn't he, Sulu?"

Sulu nodded, afraid that the sound of his voice would disturb the ensign.

Uhura took the lieutenant's hand and rested it on the Russian's hip, allowing him to appreciate the sweet rhythm of it.

An unstoppable moan slipped past Sulu's lips. However the ensign was once more a man dedicated to his task and beyond the point of being spooked by any novel auditory input. He was kissing Uhura a s if he meant to devour her whole.

In self-protection -- or perhaps playing matchmaker again -- Uhura pushed her ardent suitor's face up and away so that the ensign ended up looking into Sulu's eyes.

The look of blank befuddlement on his friend's face was so innocently comical, the lieutenant almost laughed out loud.

"Hi," he said instead, affectionately pushing the ensign's bangs out of his eyes.

A degree of recognition registered on Chekov's face. He stretched forward and Sulu met him half-way in a brief kiss.

As the ensign moved back to Uhura's lips, the lieutenant wondered what, if anything, that kiss had meant. Had Chekov done it because he wanted to? Or because he sensed that Uhura wanted him to?

Shifting slightly to one side, the ensign put one hand on Sulu's shoulder to balance.

That hand felt very good against the helmsman's skin. It squeezed him with what was either second-hand passion or.... affection?

`Well, so far, so good,' Sulu thought, wondering where Uhura was planning to go with this.

"Sulu," she said huskily. "You know where I'm going with this, don't you?"

"Uhh..."

Taking him by the hand, she arched her hips and gave him a brief guided tour.

"Oh, okay."

"The stuff..." she directed breathlessly. "...is on the shelf behind you."

Careful not to disturb his coupled friends, Sulu reached for jar of lubricant.

"Lift me up," Uhura directed Chekov when the helmsman was ready.

"Wha..?"

"Are you sure you don't need me to say a few words on the physics of this for his benefit?" Sulu joked.

"Don't you dare," she threatened, wrapping her legs around her lover and pushing him in the right direction.

As they continued in a seated position, Sulu prepared her from behind.

"Are you ready?" He asked positioning himself.

"Go for it, Sugar."

He entered her smoothly.

"Oh, yes," she sighed in satisfaction. "Oh, yes. You two are very, very good boys."

"I don't know about Chekov," Sulu said, trying to get in sync with the navigator's steady thrusts, "but I'm beginning to feel patronized."

"Men," Uhura had to gasp her correction. "Big... strong... virile... men."

Chekov's eyes were closed and his head was thrown back in silent bliss.

Sulu put his hand on the ensign's hips to balance as the three of them rocked gently together. In response, the navigator put his arms around both lieutenants, propping his chin on Uhura's shoulder and laying his cheek against Sulu's chest.

Sulu kissed the top of his friend's head as the young man rested there seeming hypnotized by pleasure.

"Okay..." After a few moments, Uhura pushed Sulu gently backward. "Okay... That's going to have to be it for me if I'm going to make it to the second crew rota."

"What?" Sulu asked, carefully disengaging.

"As you were," Uhura ordered, directing him to lie down.

"What do you mean?" he asked as they returned to their original horizontal arrangement.

Chekov, who didn't seem at all fazed by these shifts, kept at the task at hand.

"What do you mean, second rota?" Sulu repeated as the two of them settled into his lap.

Uhura turned so she could look up at him and grin. "Everybody's going to get a turn at being in the middle."

Sulu swallowed and blinked at her disbeleivingly. "Do you really think he's ready for that?"

"No," she said, holding out her hand, "but I'm going to get him ready. Give me the stuff."

Sulu handed her the lubricant. The quivering in his stomach triggered by the communications officer's plan sharply contrasted to the quivering in other parts of his body the prospect inspired.

After a moment, Chekov's eyes opened sharply.

"How's that?" Uhura asked evilly.

When the navigator's mouth opened to reply, she did something to him that made the young man's eyes cross and roll back into his head. He gasped an incomprehensible phrase in his native language.

Uhura laughed. "Amen to that, Sugar."

"What did he say?"

"It's a pity you don't speak Russian," Uhura replied, continuing to manipulate the ensign. "It was one of those proverbs that don't quite translate... Something on the order of `Be careful what yo u wish for...'"

"...Or you may get it?"

"Oh, he's going to get it all right," the communications officer said, evaluating the timbre of the ensign's moans with a professional ear. "Help me out here, Sulu."

The lieutenant complied hesitantly, sliding his fingers gingerly up the warm flesh of the navigator's buttocks. Uhura would have none of that, though. She put her friend's hands exactly where she thought they should be, causing the ensign's moans to abruptly change register.

"I think we're just about ready," she pronounced approvingly. "Are you ready, Sulu?"

The lieutenant's answer didn't come out quiet as a word. "Mmm-hhuuah."

"Are you ready for your turn in the middle, Ensign?"

Chekov blinked at her several times. "Yes," he said, looking very surprised. "Yes, I think I actually am."

"Okay, First, we roll..." she directed, putting her words into action. When she was on top, she pulled Chekov's hips up and tightly against her. "And then we lift."

Working together as if they had choreographed it in advance, the two lieutenants maneuvered the ensign so that his shoulders rested on Sulu's chest and his buttocks were poised above the helmsman's throbbing member.

"Then we let gravity do the rest," Uhura said, spreading the young man open.

One unexpectedly enjoyable thing about having sex with Chekov, Sulu reflected as gravity obligingly did its part, was the incredible variety of enchanting noises the ensign made.

"Now all you have to do," Uhura instructed, pumping him steadily from above, "Is lay back and enjoy. Think you can manage that?"

The ensign answered in an unknown tongue.

"And remember," she continued, "Sulu still has to get his turn, so you can't come yet."

The ensign made a sound that clearly expressed his doubts about the feasibility of the communications officer's orders.

"Uhura..." Sulu cleared his throat. "Uh... Let's be realistic here."

"You don't think he's going to make it?" she asked as the ensign released another shuddering groan.

"We'll finish him and I'll finish you," Sulu offered.

"Well..."

"Uh... on second thought..." the helmsman amended as the ensign's gasps began to take on a rhythmic quality of increasing speed and intensity. "I think I'll be going with him."

"Uh... yeah," Uhura agreed, bracing herself for the explosion that was becoming more imminent with each passing second. "Screw it, we're all going."

She was right. Chekov climaxed first in a sudden uncontrollable burst whose violence jolted both the lieutenant above and the lieutenant below him into paroxysms of exploding bliss. He then acted as a medium, helplessly conducting the aftershocks of their orgasms back and forth like multiple electric charges. They clung together, containing the almost unbearable delight between them for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, acting almost as one person, they fell apart by unspoken mutual consent. They lay exhausted in each others arms -- a tangle of moist flesh -- and dozed the sweet sleep of satisfaction.

Sulu woke some time later when something unexpectedly landed in his face. Opening one eye, he immediately recognized the object as Chekov's hand. After working the helm beside the ensign for nearl y two years now, he knew Chekov's hands better than he knew some people's faces.

Uhura was curled like a kitten on the opposite side of the bed. As if purely for contrast, Chekov was sleeping sprawled on his back with his arms outflung. Sulu carefully moved the hand to an unoc cupied spot on the pillow above him and rose up on one elbow. Sleep made the ensign look particularly young and vulnerable. His parted lips looked childishly pink and defenseless.

Sulu had to kiss them.

Instead of waking, the ensign irritably brushed him away and turned over on his side.

Sulu sighed deeply. Portents of things to come? He reached for the abandoned brandy bottle on the headboard shelf. He noticed there was also a stack of disposable cups nearby. He briefly wondere d what Uhura had intended them to serve as as he filled one.

Chekov growled in his sleep when a stray drop of alcohol hit him.

What if Chekov hated him now? Sulu wondered. Things would never be the same between them after this. Had he thrown away their precious friendship on one afternoon of ecstasy? He and Chekov had f aced death together a mind-numbing number of times. They had learned to work together as one unit. They could finish each other's sentences. Was all that gone now?

The navigator restlessly rolled back to his former position. His eyes fluttered open. "Sulu?"

`We still don't even call each other by our first names,' the lieutenant thought ruefully. "Yeah?"

"Is that brandy?"

"Yeah. You want some?"

Chekov pushed himself up to a semi-reclining position and flexed his shoulders painfully. "Mmm. Maybe not."

"You all right?" Sulu asked, trying to keep his tone light.

The ensign's chocolate-colored eyes traveled the room. Sulu imagined he was looking for evidence to confirm or deny that what had transpired between the three of them had been a dream. "Yes, I thi nk I am."

"That was a little more... uh, challenging than what I think the two of us may have originally had in mind," Sulu began apologetically.

"Mmm-hmm," the ensign replied non-commitally.

Sulu hoped it was only his imagination, but he thought the ensign seemed a little uncomfortable. "I hope it didn't turn into anything... unpleasant for you."

"Mmm-hmm." The navigator was definitely struggling with something. He seemed to be having a hard time meeting his fellow officer's eyes. "Sulu...."

The lieutenant's heart sank. "Yes?"

Chekov took a deep prefatory breath. "I believe you said something about not being able to say you wouldn't want to do such things again later...?"

"Yeah," Sulu couldn't keep all the disappointment out of his voice.

"Well..." Chekov glanced at him quickly then just as quickly glanced way. "Do you still not want to not say you wouldn't..."

Even the ensign seemed to get lost in that string of negatives.

"What I mean to say is.." The ensign met his eyes shyly. "Is it later enough now?"

Sulu paused while the translation center of his brain decoded this message, sent it to central processing, and had it sent back several times for confirmation. "Uh... yeah," he said, finally decid ing to believe his ears.

Chekov smiled that smile that had always turned Sulu's heart to jelly.

The helmsman had to blink to make sure he wasn't dreaming as the ensign rolled over onto his stomach and spread his legs. The reality of that sight alone was more gut-throbbingly impressive than an y of the hundred and one fantasies Sulu had imagined featuring his helm partner in the two years since they'd met.

Before the image before him could decide to disintegrate into the flimsy stuff of dreams, Sulu reached for the lubricant and positioned himself before the object of his desire. He prepared his part ner gently, almost reverently -- to the accompaniment of some of the sweetness-sounding moans ever to delight the human ear. Carefully, he lifted the ensign to his knees and, whispering thanks to th e generous fates, entered him.

Their sighs, Sulu noted with pleasure, harmonized perfectly in his opinion.

The soft groans also woke Uhura, who rolled over and opened one eye. "Sons of bitches," she complained sleepily. "Starting without me again."

Any geometric improbabilities that she may have been contemplating were forestalled by the shrill cry of a comm unit.

"Oh, shit," she said, crossing to it as the helmsman and navigator hastily uncoupled. "Some asshole is going to rescue us."

"Shelter Unit 245," a voice with a surprisingly familiar accent called over the static. "Come in, please."

"245 here. Is this Dr. McCoy?"

"Uhura?" the doctor's voice crackled with surprise. "Small world. Listen, we've got a minor medical emergency here. Is that unit equipped with a bed and a medicomp?"

Uhura sighed wistfully at the two delectable occupants of that piece of furniture. "There is a bed..."

"And a medicomp as well," Chekov volunteered helpfully before giving the matter much thought.

"That's good," the doctor replied when the communications officer mouthed a silent `Who's side are you on?' to the instantly abashed navigator. "We'll be there in about three minutes."

"Clothes," Sulu suggested practically.

"And sheets," Chekov added.

"And someone jettison that damned brandy," Uhura requested before moving into high gear.

In a precision drill that should have made their instructors at the Academy proud, the three accomplished their tasks in the allotted time and managed to be assuming conspicuously casual positions a round the card table seconds before the unit's doors opened.

"Okay. Careful now," McCoy directed the two natives carrying a loaded stretcher.

"Bed's through there," Uhura directed, casually wiping a telltale bead of sweat off her nose.

The pilot, another native, entered as the rest of his party exited aft.

"How's the weather out there?" Sulu asked conversationally, to attract attention away from Chekov who seemed to have just realized that he was holding his cards with their backs instead of faces to wards him.

"Depends on where you're heading," the pilot answered through his translator, removing the traditional cap and goggles of his office.

"We were going to Ryanar."

"Been clear all the way there for over an hour," the pilot reported. "We were trying to make it to the Medical Unit in Nozri. Still bad that way."

"She's going to be fine here until a medi-shuttle can reach us from Nozri," the doctor announced re-emerging from the aft compartment. "I'll catch another cab back from there. How much do we owe you?"

"Sixteen disrienti," the pilot replied, holding out a gloved hand. "Maybe these people will give you a ride. They're going to Ryanar."

"Ryanar?" The doctor frowned. "Been clear that way for a long time now."

"Yeah," Sulu replied. "So he told us."

McCoy didn't look as though that answer completely satisfied him. "Well, No need to wait for me. I'll want to stay with my patient."

The pilot cleared his throat and jiggled his hand meaningfully.

"Yeah, right." The doctor counted out the requisite number of coins and handed them over. "Thanks."

The pilot gave a local gesture that seemed polite before exiting.

"That's kinda funny, y'know," McCoy observed turning to his shipmates. "You have one of the best communications officers in the fleet sitting here and you miss your all clear message."

Uhura shrugged. "Just got caught up in the game, I guess."

"I guess we really should leave now," Sulu suggested, thinking it might be a prudent time to exercise the better part of valor. "We don't want to disturb the doctor's patient."

"You know, you're right..." Uhura agreed.

"Get a promotion while you've been here, Chekov?" McCoy interrupted, tapping the navigator's sleeve.

The ensign's eyes widened in horror as he looked down to find gold braid where no gold braid should have been.

Sulu closed his eyes, knowing without looking where Chekov's shirt had wound up.

Uhura gave a laughed that almost didn't sound forced. "Sulu lost a bet. You boys had better remember to change back before we get to the ship."

"Yeah, right." the helmsman agreed hastily as he rose and motioned for Chekov to do the same. "You know, we really should be going.."

"Ow!" Chekov cried out when he tried to rise.

"What is it?"

"Something in my..." The ensign pulled one of Uhura's earrings out of his boot.

McCoy's craggy features were twisting into a grin. "Looks like one of yours, Lieutenant. You are missing one, y'know."

Uhura's hand strayed halfway to her empty ear before she caught it. "So I am," she said breezily as she snatched the tiny hoop out of the blushing ensign's hand. "Sulu, you're right. We do need t o be getting out of here."

It was too late, though. It doesn't take an old country boy forever to add up one and one and one and get three.

"Well," McCoy said, shaking his head at his wayward shipmates and putting his hands on his hips. "I never."

Chekov rose and put a patronizing hand on the older man's shoulder. "You should," he advised solemnly. "You definitely should."