by Skazitelnitsky

It was a mission that took an unexpected turn for the weird and just kept on going.

It had, ironically enough, been initially presented to Sulu and Chekov as a sort of reward for good behavior. Star Fleet needed a team to fly a small gig from Deneb IV to Starbase 4. The captain told them he had been instructed to pick two hardworking and qualified officers who worked together well and could easily handle a routine turnaround delivery. He -- and they -- had believed the mission would be a sort of a vacation, a low-pressure milk run well within Federation boundaries.

What Star Fleet had neglected to tell him -- and them -- was that they were to have a passenger for this "milk run," an Intelligence officer who was between doing something that was none of their business and something else that they could be shot for even asking about. And, oh, yes, by the way, this intelligence officer was probably being pursued by lawbreakers who might kill them all if they got the chance.

When the two of them were curtly informed of these little extra details a few moments before launching from Deneb Station, they had assumed that the vacation was over even before it began. However, they had to reassess the situation when they met their passenger, Lt. Suzan Cotzee. Cotzee, they immediately realized to their mutual amazement, was a fun person. Neither Chekov nor Sulu had ever before met an Intelligence officer who was even vaguely pleasant to be around. Cotzee was secret agent who, despite the fact her life might be in danger and she couldn't talk about her very important upcoming mission, was relaxed, quick to make a joke, and seemed genuinely pleased about the prospect of spending a few days sharing a confined space with two perfect strangers.

She was a tiny brown-skinned woman from Alabama with green cat eyes, a big smile, and a loud laugh. She probably didn't stand more than 5'3 or weigh more than a hundred pounds, but every inch was made of muscle. Despite her small stature, Cotzee moved with the easy grace and confidence of an athlete.

It was this confidence and her good humor more than her looks that made her attractive to Sulu. Cotzee apparently felt the same way for she had wasted no time in suggesting that the two of them strike up a friendly sexual relationship. After cautiously feeling the matter out with his helm partner, Sulu agreed.

Chekov was a good sport and a complete gentleman about the arrangement. He gave them as much privacy as was possible on the small craft and never complained about feeling left out or imposed upon. The navigator liked Cotzee but wasn't very attracted to her -- which Sulu felt was just as well since he knew Chekov was the sort of person for whom the words "casual" and "sex" had no apparent interrelation.

So for a few days, the vacation that had seemed like it was not to be was... or nearly was. Since they never saw any pursuers and Cotzee did little to emphasize the fact that there might be pursuers, it was easy to forget they were probably being pursued. Flying in well-charted Federation territory was ridiculously easy in comparison to travel in uncharted deep space. And although all of them were career Star Fleet officers, it was nice to be able to forget about military decorum for a few days, to exist simply as equal co-workers rather than as members of a strictly regulated hierarchical order.

Trouble entered once more wearing a pleasant face. A coded message for Cotzee turned out to be an invitation to dock at a privately owned research station and have dinner with a Dr. Monroe.

"Be ready for strangeness, guys," the Intelligence officer had warned them lightly. "Monroe plays for our team, but I doubt this is a social call." Beyond this, there was nothing she could -- or would -- tell them.

Strangeness was immediately apparent upon their arrival. "Dr. Monroe" turned out to be an Andorian. A surprizing number of people at this supposedly civilian installation carried Star Fleet issue equipment. Almost every entryway had a security scan incorporated into its design. The two Enterprise officers followed Lt. Cotzee's lead, keeping their eyes open but making no mention of these irregularities.

The crowning surprise of the evening occurred at the end of the meal. Cotzee was in the middle of telling the Andorian a long joke about a Tellerite marriage broker when Sulu noticed Chekov was rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Are you getting tired?" he asked quietly.

"I think I've drunk too much," the navigator mumbled, putting his head down on his arms.

"Hey, Chekov." Sulu shook the ensign's shoulder to rouse him, but the Russian was out cold.

Sensing that the table had gone suddenly silent, the lieutenant turned to apologize for his fellow officer. He was surprized to see that Cotzee too had collapsed into the Andorian's arms. An expectant look on the alien's face let Sulu know that "Dr. Monroe" expected him to do the same.

'Oh, no,' he thought, trying to fight the sudden wave of dizziness that overtook him. 'It's a double-cross. We've been....'

'...Drugged.' He finished the thought an unknown amount of time later. Opening his eyes, he was amazed but relieved to find himself and his two companions on the main deck of the gig instead of in some high-tech torture chamber. "Cotzee!" He propped the Intelligence agent up in his arms. She lolled there like a broken doll. He could hear Chekov pick himself up off the deck as he felt for a pulse in her neck. "Cotzee, answer me."

"Damn," Chekov said.

Profanity always had an odd ring in the Russian's mouth, but for some reason that particular 'damn' sounded doubly strange. Sulu didn't have time to pin down why for at that moment Cotzee's eyelids fluttered.

"Damn," Chekov repeated, standing up and looking down at his arms and legs.

"Chekov, get the medikit," Sulu ordered.

For some reason, the ensign did not obey. He continued to stare at himself. "Good Jesus God in the morning," he said using a funny-sounding accent.

The lieutenant blinked at him and was about to repeat his request when Cotzee clutched at his tunic.

"Sulu," she said thickly, "vat happened? I feel odd."

"Baby," Chekov said, in a most un-Chekov-like manner, "when you open your eyes you're going to feel a lot odder."

Sulu couldn't quite puzzle out the Russian's bizarre attempt at levity. Cotzee, however, had a more extreme reaction. Her eyes went as wide as saucers at the sound of the ensign's voice.

"Bozhe moi!" she gasped, sitting bolt upright. She, too, then began to stare at her arms and legs. "Bozhe moi!"

Events were occurring too quickly for the helmsman to comprehend. "Chekov?" he asked uncertainly looking back and forth between the two of them.

The person who looked as though he was Chekov shook his head and pointed to the woman in the lieutenant's arms.

"Chekov?" Sulu tentatively addressed this person.

"Sulu," the person in Cotzee's body cried out piteously, "vat haf they done to me?"

What was done to the poor ensign was explained not in person since the "research station" and its occupants were long gone, but by a tape for prepared for them by "Dr. Monroe." Chekov and Cotzee were participants -- ["Read 'victims'," amended the Intelligence agent] -- of an experimental security application of technology discovered on Camus Two by team of archaeologists headed by Dr. Janice Lester [The navigator groaned at the familiar name]. That was why two officers from the Enterprise had been requested. They already knew about the device and how it functioned and therefore did not have to be fully briefed or given additional security clearances. ["Anything to save a buck," Cotzee had complained.] The transference was temporary and had been effected without prior notice because the researchers had found that involuntary transfers were weaker and more easily reversed ["Meaning that sometimes they have trouble switching people back?" Cotzee had wondered aloud.] The experiment had been implemented in this case because of the possibility that the lieutenant and her escorts might be intercepted and questioned by the malefactors pursuing Lt. Cotzee. Chekov, posing as Cotzee ["Quite convincingly," the agent added.] would not be able to betray any Intelligence secrets. Cotzee, in the guise ["Read 'flesh.'"] of the most junior officer in the group, would hopefully escape stringent interrogation and would be able to effect an escape plan for them all. ["Their confidence astounds me even more than their gall," Cotzee commented.] The team was to complete their mission, note any medical irregularities associated with the transference, ["Such as what?" Cotzee asked. "Little things like suddenly having a penis?"] and report to Starbase 4 as soon as possible.

It didn't take two people to run the bridge of the small craft. Sulu had come up on the pretext of adjusting the long-range sensors, but he was actually there in case Chekov wanted to talk. The lieutenant snuck a quick look over at the control module. He couldn't really think of the person who was sitting there as being Chekov. This very small, very angry black woman was not really like Pavel or Suzan. She -- or more properly he/she -- was a new creature that Sulu didn't know... and who didn't look like he/she particularly wanted to get to know him.

"How are you doing?" he ventured.

"I'm fine," Chekov/Cotzee answered stiffly, without taking his/her eyes off the viewscreen. He/she had been strenuously avoiding making direct eye contact with anyone since becoming aware of the transference and seemed very uncomfortable with being looked at. He/she was wearing a lab coat he/she had had the computer fabricate over the uniform that he/she had stubbornly ordered in his/her old size.

It was awkward to have a conversation with someone who wasn't comfortable with making or receiving eye contact... but then again, what wasn't awkward about this situation? "You aren't mad at me, are you?" Sulu asked lightly.

"Why should I be?" The edge in Chekov/Cotzee's voice made it seem as if he/she was open to suggestions for a reason.

"I don't know." Sulu shrugged. "You haven't said anything for the past forty-five minutes."

"I am contemplating legal action," he/she informed him coldly.

"For ... uh, the switch?"

Chekov/Cotzee nodded.

"Against Star Fleet Intelligence?"

He/she repeated the nod adamantly.

Sulu whistled. "That would pretty hard going."

Chekov/Cotzee shot him a brief but murderous look.

"Not that you don't have a case," the helmsman placated hastily, "but I imagine Intelligence is pretty capable of defending itself."

"Certain inviolate rights of sentient beings should never be...." Chekov/Cotzee broke off suddenly. "I don't want to talk."

"Look," Sulu began carefully, "I know I can't possibly have any idea what you're going through right now, but..."

"No, no," he/she interrupted with an impatient gesture. "You misunderstand. This voice.... The sound of it is most upsetting to me."

"Oh... yeah. Of course." Opening your mouth and hearing a strange woman's voice come out instead of your own would have to rank pretty high on the list of all time disconcerting things to happen. In addition, Chekov's accent combined with Chekov/Cotzee's lack of mastery of controlling the differing size and physiology of Cotzee's mouth made him/her pretty hard to understand. Sulu sighed. "Okay. I... I guess you'd rather be alone?"

Chekov/Cotzee nodded at the viewscreen in front of him/her.

"Okay." Sulu rose defeatedly. He paused at the door. "Just hit the intercom if you need me."

He/she nodded without turning around.

It killed Sulu to see his friend so upset and to be so powerless to do anything about it. "Remember, Pavel," the helmsman had to say, "that this is only temporary."

"I am thinking of little else."

Sulu heard a terrible racket coming from Cotzee's quarters. It sounded like a fight. He hit the door buzzer wondering if he should just rush in instead.

"Come!" Cotzee/Chekov's voice answered sounding slightly out of breath.

S/he was standing in front of a padded target tree dressed only in a pair of black Star Fleet issue jogging trunks and one of Cotzee's now too small tank tops. "Hey," Cotzee/Chekov greeted him briefly before launching a precise combination of rapid fire chops and kicks at the target.

"Sorry to interrupt," Sulu said, feeling as awkward as he did the first time he'd been alone with Chekov/Cotzee. "From the sounds I thought someone was trying to kill you."

Cotzee rolled Chekov's eyes at him. "And you paused to ring the doorbell?"

Sulu shrugged. "Guess I wouldn't make a very good secret agent."

Chekov's hand reached out and patted his face the way Cotzee was fond of doing. "Guess you wouldn't, sugar," s/he grinned, before turning back to the target tree. "I'm just trying out the new model."

Sulu watched as s/he went through another attack pattern, making Chekov's body move more fluidly than he'd ever seen. "Looks like you're adjusting pretty well."

S/he gave a very Chekovian noise of derision. "Still slow. I'm not used to the extra weight."

The next combination of blows looked even faster and smoother than before. The last kick knocked the padded tip off one of the arms of the tree. S/he turned to him with a delighted grin and thumped on Chekov's chest like Tarzan. "But it feels so good to be so big and str-aahwng."

Sulu had to laugh. "I don't think I've ever heard Chekov talk about being big and strong before."

"You gotta appreciate what you've got," Cotzee/Chekov replied, picking up a towel. "Speaking of such, how is ... ah, the original owner doing?"

"Well, he's not as cheerful about the whole thing as you are. In fact, he said he was contemplating legal action."

Cotzee/Chekov laughed. "Doesn't he realize Intelligence has an entire division devoted to researching and implementing advanced ass covering techniques?"

"I don't think he's thinking about that sort of thing right now." Sulu sat down on the bunk wearily. He watched as Cotzee/Chekov crossed to the mirror over her/his dressing table. S/he tentatively rolled off the sweaty tank top as if s/he were not sure of what might be under it.

"My gawd," Cotzee/Chekov giggled at her/his reflection. "Look at all that hair. The boy's half gorilla."

"So," Sulu began carefully, "you feel okay with this?"

"Hell, no! When I get back to Headquarters you gotta know I am goin' to be taking names and kicking clueless scientific ass." As if to emphasize the point, Cotzee/Chekov bounced over to the target tree and launched a roundhouse kick at the topmost point. The blow landed with a sharp crack. S/he turned back to Sulu with a reckless grin. "Hey, wanna spar with me?"

"Are you kidding?" Sulu laughed, putting up his hands to defend himself. "In the mood you're in, you'd kill me."

"Yes!" S/he said, lowering Chekov's voice to a basso. S/he raised Chekov's fists and walked towards him stiff-legged as if doing an imitation of Godzilla flattening Tokyo. "They all fear the big, strong, manly man!" S/he ended the performance with a flying tackle that knocked Sulu over onto the bed.

"Hey!" the helmsman protested as s/he trapped him in an affectionate bear hug.

"Too much for you, am I?" s/he growled, playfully squeezing him.

Sulu couldn't help laughing. "I just hate to see you so depressed."

Cotzee/Chekov released a long breath. Leaving one arm wrapped comfortably around Sulu's shoulders s/he rolled onto her back. "I won't lie to you. This is messing with my head in a major way. But.... what can I do?"

They lie there on the bunk quietly side by side for a moment.

"It's only temporary," Sulu reminded her/him as he had Chekov/Cotzee.

"Unless one of us gets killed," s/he said with almost Chekovian pessimism.

Sulu turned onto his side so he could face her/him. "That's not going to happen," he promised.

Unlike Chekov/Cotzee, Cotzee/Chekov had no qualms about making eye contact. S/he gazed up at him filling Chekov's expressive chocolate-colored eyes so full of naked affection that Sulu was the one who wanted to blush and turn away.

"Hey," s/he said, smiling as s/he reached up to stroke his face. "Not to be pushy or crude, but wanna screw?"

Sulu was shocked by the intensity of his own reaction. "Uh..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I think we'd better take it easy."

"Oh, Baby," s/he apologized. "I didn't mean to freak you out or anything.... It's just that..." Chekov/Cotzee sighed sensuously. "Suddenly I am really in the mood and... when am I going to have a chance to do this again, y'know?"

Sulu could hardly credit it, but he could actually feel himself beginning to blush. At his age and level of experience, he didn't think that was possible any more. "Yeah. I... I.. uh..." he stammered. "I don't think Chekov would want us to."

"Oh, fuck him," Cotzee/Chekov said mildly.

"Yeah," he said, gently disentangling himself from her/his grasp. "That's the problem."

"Oh, come on," s/he wheedled, "It wouldn't be like you're really doing it with a guy... It would really be me. You've done it with me before... all sorts of ways..."

Sulu rose apologetically. "I just don't know if it's good idea."

Cotzee/Chekov was looking at him with Chekov's very intelligent eyes and Cotzee's very intelligent brain behind them. "It's because it's him, isn't it?"

Sulu didn't answer. He realised that he didn't have to.

"Hmm." Cotzee/Chekov rose and crossed to the mirror. "I guess I can see it. He's kinda cute. He oughta cut his hair, though..." s/he said critically, combing it backwards with her/his fingers. "Oh, now I can see why he doesn't. He's got ears like jugs."

Sulu shook his head. "His ears aren't that big."

"All the better to hear you with, my dear," s/he said in another funny voice. S/he caught him looking at her/his reflection. "So, you're hung up on this guy, hmm?" s/he asked gently.

"I..." Sulu began, then realized he had nowhere to go on that particular sentence. "We're friends."

"Meaning what?" S/he turned to him. "You're attracted to him, but he's not gay or...?"

"I..." Once more Sulu found he couldn't go any further with the sentence. "It's not like I..." He stopped again, then shrugged and sat back down on the bunk. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I'm reacting this way. Really, the subject has never come up between the two of us."

"Until now," s/he said slowly. "Well, we live and we learn."

"I guess so," Sulu replied, still struggling with his own unaccountably intense embarrassment.

"You're around someone every day for a long time and you can grow awfully fond of them without ever realizing it. Wake up one day and find you've fallen in love."

"It's been known to happen," the lieutenant agreed.

"And when you do realize this," s/he grinned, "by a truly remarkable stroke of fate and science run amok, this guy is all yours for the asking... for a limited time only." S/he punctuated the statement with a playfully suggestive grind of Chekov's hips.

"No." Sulu laughed. "No, really."

"Why not?"

"He'd find out," the helmsman said, going with the first of a long list of reasons that sprang immediately to mind.

"How?"

"I don't know." Sulu shrugged. "It would be one of those things that are just too kinky and embarrassing not to come out some time some how some way when I'd least want it to. And when it did, he'd kill me."

"Is that it?" s/he asked, crossing to him and stroking his face. "Or is it that you think he'd be such a scrumptious piece of ass that you'd spend all your time pining for short, dark and slavic?"

"Come off it," he protested, good-naturedly batting her/his hand away.

S/he stepped back and pulled the elastic waistband of the trunks forward, looked inside, then grinned at him. "Sure you don't want even a little peek?"

"Don't tease me," Sulu pleaded.

"Okay," s/he said, "No more teasing."

In a way that Chekov would have done only in one of the lieutenant's most pornographic dreams, s/he pulled off the trunks in a single, fluid motion. Locking Chekov's eyes onto his, s/he deliberately put one leg on either side of the lieutenant's knees and then slid into his lap. The movement was Cotzee, but the warm naked body touching him was Chekov's. The cumulative effect was unbearably arousing.

Sulu didn't stop her/him when Cotzee/Chekov brushed her/his lips across his face in a series of light searching kisses. Hands locked themselves around his neck in a gesture that would have seemed girlish if those had not been large, discernibly masculine hands. His own hands moved to the thighs pressing on his. He had never dared to dream that one day he'd be caressing those thighs in this way.

Chekov's mouth found his. Those strong, soft lips had become demanding and Sulu didn't have the will to resist. An aggressive tongue pushed easily past his half-hearted defences and claimed his mouth.

"Cotzee," he finally protested, pulling back.

"Eez dat who you vant me to be?" s/he asked, in a mimicry of the ensign that was too flawless.

"I..."

Cotzee/Chekov continued to regard him with a serious expression, as if s/he were willing to listen to any objection, but her/his hand slipped under the waistband of Sulu's pants. That hand -- that long fingered left hand that he knew so well, the same hand that had rested on the console next to his every day for a very long time now -- wrapped itself around him in a gloriously unequivocal grip.

Cotzee smiled Chekov's sexiest smile as Sulu gasped with pleasure. "Okay," s/he said, as s/he began to move her/his fingers. "So far so good."

Sulu closed his eyes, gratefully surrendering to another warm invasion of his lips.

"And now," s/he said, lifting her/his head and taking Sulu's right hand into his, "we play a little follow the leader."

The lieutenant looked deep into Chekov's eyes as he let Chekov's hand place his hand around the hot, firm flesh between Chekov's legs.

S/he caught her/his breath in delighted surprise upon contact. "Oooo," s/he cooed in a voice that was neither masculine or feminine.

Cotzee/Chekov left her/his hand on the lieutenant's for a few moments synchronizing their strokes, then put both her/his hands to the task of tending to Sulu.

"Mmmm," s/he moaned appreciatively as he followed suit. "Nice. Different... but nice."

"I'm glad you like it," Sulu replied to both the person who was speaking and the person he was caressing.

S/he smiled at him. When another wave of pleasure hit, s/he bit her/his lip. The expression erased momentarily erased all traces of Cotzee from Chekov's face.

'Will I ever really see him like this?' Sulu wondered, lovingly massaging the tender flesh beneath his fingers. 'Would he ever let me please him... love him like this?'

He couldn't recall having gone from liking to loving the face and body in front of him. It had happened too gradually to notice. It now seemed barely possible that at first Sulu had thought he wasn't going to like the too self-assured young man with the thick accent who impertinently assumed he could take the place of the irreplaceable Kevin Riley. Kevin was just a distant memory now and Chekov....

The person in Chekov's body pulled the lieutenant's pants out of the way and bent down to put his mouth over Sulu's hardened body.

The helmsman almost sobbed with pleasure. To see that dark head moving rhythmically between his legs filled Sulu with a painful mixture satisfaction and longing. He ran his fingers wistfully through the navigator's soft brown hair and silently mouthed the name he wished he could call. The pleasure was intense but too exquisite to enjoy.

Gently, he pulled Cotzee/Chekov's face up. When s/he blinked at him, he smiled. "Follow the leader, remember?" he said, pulling her/him to her/his feet. "It's my turn now."

Grasping the young man's buttocks, he pulled her/him forward and pressed his lips first against the navigator's flat stomach and then in a leisurely path downwards to the thick curl of hair. Hard flesh rose to meet his lips. He engulfed it voraciously.

S/he gave a sharp cry of delight, arching her/his back and leaning into Sulu's mouth.

He treated the length of it to long, slow, maddening pulls of his lips. Chekov's hips began to rock uncontrollably in responce. The lieutenant accepted the increasingly wild thrusts hungrily, his tongue all the time teasing for more and pushing the ensign's body to even greater heights of abandon.

Finally with a fierce growl, Cotzee/Chekov's hand wrapped itself in the lieutenant's hair and forced his head forward, opening his mouth to thrusts that demanded nothing less than the sort of complete submission the helmsman was longing to give. Every fibre of Sulu's being throbbed in willing harmony with the passionate rhythm of Chekov's body -- accepting, giving, completing.

That rhythm increased in a magnificent crescendo until it climaxed with heart-stopping explosiveness joining the two bodies in one of those rare, timeless moments of total mutual bliss.

In the wake of this ecstasy, Cotzee/Chekov slumped down over his shoulder with a soul-deep moan. Sulu tenderly picked up the beloved body and laid it on the bunk. He then went back to the sweet flesh between Chekov's thighs. His tongue lightly savored every inch from base to tip -- cleaning, caressing soothing -- before he left it to rest and lay down next to his thoroughly sated partner.

Cotzee/Chekov sighed contentedly. "I could get used to this."

Sulu smiled. "So could I."

"Well, honey," s/he said, stretching and yawning. "I'm going to be a total macho pig and just roll over and go to sleep now."

"Whatever you want to do," he said, spreading small kisses across Chekov's forehead.

"Mmmm." S/he closed Chekov's long lashes.

Sulu carefully slipped his arms from around her/him and quietly got up to turn off the lights.

As the lights dimmed, Cotzee/Chekov roused. "Hey, be a pal and hand me those trunks, would ya?"

"Why?" he asked tossing them to her/him.

"This thing's just a loaner, y'know," s/he said sleepily as s/he pulled on the trunks. "I'd hate to roll over on it and break it off or something."

Sulu laughed. "I think you need to read the owner's manual."

"Tomorrow," s/he replied, groggily.

"Since I'm up, I think I'll take a shower."

"Go ahead," s/he mumbled. "It must be genetic. I have zero desire to cuddle right now."

When Sulu returned, s/he was fast asleep and even snoring slightly. He carefully crawled into the bunk beside her/him, but s/he didn't stir. He tenderly brushed the hair from Chekov's forehead and gave it a final soft kiss.

"I love you," he said, contentedly putting his arms around that warm, beautiful body. "I don't know when I'll ever get a chance to tell you again, but I love you."

He woke the next morning to the sensation of someone shaking his shoulder.

"Sulu," a familiar voice was saying.

"Hmmm?" He struggled to open his eyes and blink at Chekov's face leaning over him.

"Sulu." Cotzee/Chekov gave him another firm shake. "What am I doing in bed with you?"

"Wh.. what?" he asked, yawning.

Cotzee/Chekov crossed her/his arms and frowned. "What am I doing in bed with you?"

Sulu's brain began to finally catch up to this morning's version of reality. The person speaking to him with Chekov's lips once more had a Russian accent. "Chekov?"

"Oh, yes," the navigator said humorlessly. "What have the two of you been doing with my body?"

"Cotzee...."

The door to the cabin slid open and the Intelligence officer bounded in grinning from ear to ear. "Holy shit, guys!" she exclaimed. "The damned body fairy must have come last night because I've got my tits back!"

"Excuse me." Chekov held up a silencing finger. "But I'd like to know what my body is doing in bed with him."

"Well, what was my ass doing asleep at the control console?" Cotzee countered.

"I was not sleeping," Chekov corrected stiffly. "I was concentrating on reclaiming my body. I recalled that Captain Kirk was able to break his transference to Dr. Lester's body by concentrating and willing it to happen."

"That's right," Sulu agreed. "He did. We watched it happen on the bridge while he was in the brig. I thought Spock helped him, though."

"I was able to accomplish the task without Mr. Spock's assistance," Chekov said, a trifle smugly.

"Man, oh man." Cotzee grinned and shook her head. "The boys in Research and Development are going to have your ass."

"Not in the literal sense, though," the navigator replied with some satisfaction. "Which brings me back to my original question -- What is my body doing in bed with Lt. Sulu?"

When Chekov's gaze turned to him accusingly, Sulu felt his life pass metaphorically before his eyes.

"Get real, Brainiac," Cotzee scoffed breezily, as she discarded the oversized lab coat and headed for her dresser. "We fell asleep. He came down to cheer me up and we fell asleep. Nothing to get your panties in a wad about."

"Really?" Chekov replied, probably noting as Sulu already had that the plausibility of the we-fell-asleep scenario was damaged by the fact that Sulu had obviously taken the time to put on the pair of pajama bottoms he was now wearing.

Sensing doubt, Cotzee turned back to her audience with her hands on her hips. "If he fucked you last night," she began reasonably, "I think you'd still be able to feel it this morning, don't you?"

If this rhetorical question didn't completely assuage the Russian's doubts, it certainly did confound the ensign enough to effectively shut him up for the moment. Sulu once more found himself in awe of the masterful way Star Fleet Intelligence trained their officers to effortlessly bend and manipulate the truth into a shape that suited their purposes.

As if on cue, the ship's defence alert siren began to wail.

"Unidentified craft approaching!" Sulu said, heading for the bridge and hoping he didn't sound too relieved.

In the end, it had taken not weird alien technology but a good old-fashioned combination of precision piloting and skillful deployment of the little gig's phaser power to defeat the three ships the Orion trader who Cotzee had angered had sent after the Intelligence Agent. That was not, of course, to say the task was an easy one. It took the three-man crew five more days to get to Starbase 4 -- five days during which they barely had a long enough respite to catch a breath, let alone speak to each other... which suited Sulu just fine under the circumstances.

They said their final good-byes to Lt. Cotzee in an airlock on Starbase 4. After she disappeared through a passageway leading her to whatever fate awaited her, Sulu turned to head down the corridor that would take them to the shuttle back to the Enterprise. He found in his path a very determined looking Russian with his arms crossed.

"Did you or didn't you have sex with my body?" Chekov asked bluntly.

Sulu closed his eyes and sighed. The whole situation was such a reversal of how things normally went. Usually Chekov was the one who got carried away by his emotions and did something impulsive and imprudent. Sulu had lost count of the number of times Chekov had played the role of the shamefaced penitent to the lieutenant's patient father-confessor. Now that that their parts were for the first time reversed, Sulu doubted he was going to get off with the indulgently short shrift he usually granted his partner.

He took in a deep breath. "Cotzee and I fooled around a little before we went to sleep," he admitted.

"'Fooled around'?" the Russian asked as if he'd never heard those words in that combination before. Indeed, in his mouth, they did sound like a nonsense term Sulu had childishly made up on the spot.

"Yeah." Sulu shrugged. "You know, kissing and uh..."

"And uh...?" the navigator repeated dubiously.

Looking into his helm partner's eyes, Sulu hoped that there would someday be a time and a place where he could reveal the whole truth of what he had done and what he had discovered on that eventful night. However this was definitely not that time or that place. "Nothing serious," Sulu assured him, mentally crossing his fingers behind his back. "Really."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Sulu nodded and added sincerely, "I know we shouldn't have done anything at all and that the whole situation was a violation of your inviolate rights as a sentient being...."

"Yes," Chekov agreed pointedly.

"But I guess we got a little carried away for a moment..." An unfair but highly effective tact suddenly occurred to the helmsman. "I think you know what it's like to get into a unique sort of romantic situation and get a little carried away...."

Chekov's lips twisted as this subtle low blow found and hit its mark.

"...In a mild sort of way," Sulu amended persuasively, "for just a few moments..."

"All right," the ensign relented, then held up a warning finger. "But for future reference, if you ever want to have sex with my body, you have to ask me first."

"Okay." The ensign turned and stalked toward the shuttle, missing the part of the lieutenant's smile that turned bittersweet as he quietly added, "Someday I will."