Title: J/P/T fragments
Author: jlr ( jlr at babealicious.net )
Pairing Code: J/P/T
Archiving: ASCEM, and nobody else please.
Disclaimers: I don't own them, and I don't subscribe to capitalist notions of property anyway, so there. Don't read this if you're young and/or corruptible.
Summary: Bits of a J/P/T story I will NEVER finish. Tom and B'elanna decide it would be a good idea to seduce the Captain.
Author's Note (1999): It occurs to me that a substantial chunk of this story has been sitting on my computer, and I'm just not going to finish it. So don't ask. I started it a couple years ago, and the kind of fic I write has changed a lot since then--this just doesn't grab me anymore (even then I wasn't so into happy stories). But I think what's here is pretty entertaining, so I thought I'd post it. I invite others to add to this. Or to just take it as inspiration. Or to just enjoy it.
Warning: This story is unfinished!
Another Warning: I'm ashamed to say that there are references to J/C in this.
B'elanna gave one last roar and collapsed bonelessly on top of Tom. They lay motionless for a minute, their frenzied breathing slowing, and then she rolled off and Tom captured her in a sweaty embrace. His fingers idly caressed damp skin, and brushed hair away from her sticky forehead.
"You're one hell of a fuck, Mr. Paris" she said into his shoulder, her voice husky.
"You're not so bad yourself" he replied smiling, bemused. "What's gotten into you tonight? I've come to expect being thrown against the wall and having my uniform ripped off every time I'm alone with you, and believe me I have no complaints, but this is a little excessive. It's the middle of the night and we haven't even eaten dinner yet."
Unexpectedly, he felt B'elanna stiffen, and was intrigued. So something *was* going on.
"Long day" she replied reticently, after a slight pause. He decided not to push it--or rather his body decided for him, since it was threatening immediate unconsciousness.
"You sleeping here?" he managed as his eyes drifted closed.
"Mmm," B'elanna grunted.
Tom smiled as he drifted off. Life was good.
He awoke to a vague sensation of noise and a vacancy next to him in the bed.
"0724 hours," came the chipper reply, and Tom groaned. No time to go back to sleep. He dragged himself upright and then winced as all his major muscles--and some he hadn't even known he had-- complained loudly. He felt battered. He somehow managed to get himself into the bathroom and stepped into the sonic shower with his lover. B'elanna grinned when she turned to see his forlorn figure, hair mussed, eyes still half closed. She was much more of a morning person than he was.
"'Morning" she said, rubbing against him affectionately and wrapping her arms around him.
"I feel like I've been run over by a truck" he said sleepily.
"Oh, poor baby" B'elanna said in mock sympathy. "Maybe if you're good I'll give you a massage later" she added suggestively.
This earned a smile.
"Come on B'elanna, aren't you even a little sore?"
"My body does feel...well used. I like it."
He was stroking her breast. "Tom, I don't want to miss breakfast." He sighed melodramatically and reached for the scrub.
It was proving to be a quiet day on the bridge, and Tom's mind was wandering. Sometimes he got bored, but mostly he enjoyed the time to sit and think. How many people have a job like this? he thought happily. He contemplated sending a message to Harry at his console--Harry was always dutifully running some diagnostic or other, and it probably annoyed him as much as it amused him, but it was fun. Just like passing notes in class. But Tuvok always caught them. He heard someone shift behind him--probably the captain, on her way to her ready room. She diverted her steps to stand behind Tom's chair, and rested her hand affectionately on his shoulder. He relished the contact, as he always did--he could feel his muscles relaxing under her touch.
"How's she feeling, Tom?" He didn't have to think twice to know she meant the ship.
"Purring like a kitten, Captain" he answered with a grin. She smiled back. He took in her paleness, the circles under her eyes. She looked tired, inordinately so. Impulsively, he lowered his voice "Captain, B'elanna and I are planning on running Sandrine's tonight in honor of the completion of the EM conduit refit. You're invited as always."
"Thank you Tom," she seemed touched "I just might take you up on that."
As the doors of the ready room closed behind her, Tom had a revelation: B'elanna had spent most of the day yesterday on a survey mission with the Captain. He'd practically forgotten about it, considering he'd been naked within minutes of B'elanna entering his quarters. When he'd asked her what had gotten into her the night before, she said she'd had a long day. His brow furrowed in concern, and he turned in his chair.
"Commander?" Chakotay looked up from his work. "How did the survey mission go yesterday?"
The first officer raised an eyebrow. "Everything went smoothly, and all our goals were accomplished. The captain and lieutenant Torres collected a small but valuable amount of dilithium. I'm surprised she didn't mention it to you."
"We were...otherwise engaged" he said wickedly as he turned around. Harry shot him a look.
So what could be so taxing about a successful mining expedition with the Captain? He'd have to ask her...or maybe not. An obvious explanation was presenting itself to his admittedly somewhat devious mind, and he wasn't sure whether to be ashamed of himself, angry, or delighted. B'elanna never failed to surprise him. He smiled and shook his head, and started formulating a plan.
Kathryn made a face when she spotted the unusually tall stack of reports waiting on her desk, and headed straight for the replicator for a cup of coffee. It was going to be a long morning. But it was worth it, since yesterday she'd essentially taken the day off to go on an away mission with B'elanna. Sometimes she just needed a day off the ship--as much as she tried to relax and unwind on Voyager, to compartmentalize, there was something therapeutic about escaping in a tiny shuttle, the controls under her hands. Normally she liked to just sit, lost in her own thoughts, but she'd been pleasantly surprised by the easy conversation she'd struck up with B'elanna, and by how much she'd enjoyed it. In the four hour ride there, they'd run the gamut, talking and laughing about everything from B'elanna's latest exciting new engineering idea to Naomi Wildman's antics to favorite holonovels. Kathryn had felt her body relaxing, sinking into her chair. Finally she'd been loose enough to start teasing B'elanna about Tom, and was rewarded with an endearing blush followed by some delightfully wicked (and sweet) details. Tom and B'elanna's relationship awed her: they were so good for each other, so devoted to each other (even if they couldn't always see it), and so fiery, in every way...
On the way back, they'd been more pensive. All this talk of relationships had turned her mind to her own, which was now irrevocably over. She sighed. She could feel B'elanna's eyes on her, and when she looked up to met them, dark and warm, B'elanna asked her what she was thinking. She knew she didn't have to answer, but Voyager was still 6 hours distant, and somehow the words came tumbling out, and she talked, a little, about how old it made her feel, how far from home, but also, strangely, how confident it made her feel in her command to have already agonized over, begun, and amicably ended a relationship in the Delta quadrant. And B'elanna just listened, reaching out once to press a light touch on the back of her hand.
She'd kept Chakotay at bay for so long, flirting with him shamelessly in a way part of her thought was inexcusably unfair and part of her thought was a necessary to maintaining their working relationship. But on New Earth, she'd given in and slept with him. What else could she have done? It had taken him months after they'd been returned to the ship to convince her that there was no reason for them not to continue the relationship on Voyager. There wasn't, she conceded that now. It hadn't hurt crew morale or compromised the command structure--or at least she'd been able to handle all the problems they'd had. No, it was just because of them that it hadn't worked out. They were just too different--that is, their differences were moral, spiritual, philosophical, areas which put them at odds with each other, not ones they could accept and appreciate. It had hurt when she'd figured out that there were some things about her he would just never accept--her trust in her own intuition, the rush she got from her sometimes foolish daring, her dedication to their mission above all else. There were things about him, in turn, that she would never trust either--his tendency to be swayed by every pretty alien who showed an interest in him, for one. His romanticism had always been serious, lugubrious; he always demanded something in return, even if it was only with his eyes. She supposed that was what finally drove them away from each other, that look that he gave her, full of need for something she knew she couldn't give him, so that she could only turn away, closing herself to him. He didn't want that any more than she did. Their lovemaking, so wild and passionate in the beginning, had become perfunctory, mechanical, until finally they just couldn't do it anymore, and they'd both had to concede they made better friends. She knew he was angry at her, but also that he knew that anger was irrational, that she'd given him everything she could. He was still the best first officer she'd ever had, still a damn good friend--precisely because he did argue with her.
Her thoughts strayed, as they rarely did now, back to Mark. She remembered how hopelessly happy she'd felt with him, how safe, how joyous. It seemed like a lifetime ago; she'd been so much younger. Even then they had argued about her devotion to her command. She wondered where she'd ever find a lover who could deal with her being the Captain. She sighed. That wasn't important to her right now. She was perfectly content to have a break from the turmoil of romance, to enjoy her stability, her free time, and her ship. Maybe she would go to Sandrine's tonight--it had been a long time since someone had run it, and she preferred it to the resort. She glanced down into her coffee cup and noticed it was empty. She made a face, disgusted with herself for letting herself get lost in her own thoughts for so long when she was on duty, and turned her attention to the pile of reports.
B'elanna sat alone, sipping a syntheholic scotch, pensively watching the Captain beat Tom at pool. She couldn't decide which one of them looked more beautiful. Tom was more at ease here, with a cue in his hand, than anywhere else in the galaxy, and he moved with the unconscious, powerful grace of a dancer, a contrast to the adorably wicked expressions that tended to appear on his face. He showed off with no effort at all. Watching him play still made her want to drag him behind the bar, throw him on the floor and ravish him, although she'd learned to control those impulses (usually). He glanced over and met her eyes, and she smiled back with answering wickedness, transmitting the slow burn of her arousal.
The Captain, on the other hand, commanded the
table with the same focused superiority she brought to the bridge.
Of course, being on the bridge didn't involve that slow saunter
around the table, fingertips trailing along the polished wood, or
"Always a pleasure loosing to you Captain." She swatted him playfully; only he could get away with these things.
"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine." And she headed towards the bar for a drink.
Tom joined B'elanna, glowing, and let his head be pulled down for a hungry kiss. "Guess it doesn't diminish your opinion of my manhood to see me thoroughly trounced by a girl," he remarked when they came up for air.
"Hell no." B'elanna couldn't quite muster the will to glower.
She must have looked a little too dreamy, because Tom regarded her thoughtfully. Then, out of the blue, he said, "So why don't you tell me about your exciting survey mission yesterday."
Uh oh, she was nervous. "It was fine," she tried to sound nonchalant, "we collected enough dilithium to keep us running until we get to the next system."
"Did you have a good time?"
She was staring at the table "Yes. The Captain is good company." Tom didn't press her, and she let out her breath silently.
[I never wrote the middle of this story, so who knows how Tom eventually manages to get B'elanna to admit she has a crush on the Captain, much less how the two of them seduce her--although who could resist Tom AND B'elanna? But here's some naughty bits.]
Kathryn opened her eyes to B'elanna emerging from the bathroom... looking stunning.
"You're wearing my nightgown" she said quietly. B'elanna smiled as she saw her, awake and disheveled, her bare shoulders emerging from under the sheet, her hair brushing her wrist where her arm was supporting her head.
"I hope you don't mind," she answered (bashfully, Kathryn noted with amusement), "I was cold and it was the first one I picked up off the floor..."
'Does it cling to me like that?' Kathryn wondered. 'Gods, no wonder Mark loved that thing.'
"It becomes you." Her voice was husky, and B'elanna actually blushed and looked down. But her gaze was pulled up again as Kathryn pushed off the sheet and came slowly toward her, naked. Her eyes widened and she could feel her breathing quicken. Kathryn stopped just inches from her. B'elanna was staring down at a bare shoulder, dusted with freckles. Kathryn's lips were at her ear. "I'll have to loan it to you more often," she breathed. Then she stuck out her tongue and ran it from B'elanna's earlobe down the side of her neck until she hit silk.
It was B'elanna's familiar moans and gasps that dragged Tom to wakefulness. Groggily, his eyes focused on the two bodies leaning on the wall next to the bathroom--and it took him a priceless moment for his brain to clear enough to figure out which was which. The nightgown was confusing, and it was the skin that tipped him off. Pale against dark--'Do we look that good together?' B'elanna was pressed against the wall, her head thrown back and her throat exposed to the none-too-gentle ministrations of her Captain. Kathryn had gathered up the long skirt of the gown enough to slide her hand up a muscular thigh to B'elanna's ass. 'And her hand is clearly doing *something* under there,' Tom noted studiously. He chuckled, even as he slid his hand to his own nascent erection, which was starting to tent the sheet. B'elanna, his usually completely aggressive and confident lover, was totally at a loss before this woman's advances, utterly at her mercy. 'This could be better than I've even imagined...'
[insert more unwritten fucking here]
Riding away from the bridge in the turbolift, Captain Kathryn Janeway realized she was grinning. Uninhibitedly, from ear to ear. She'd been doing that a lot lately, she noted. It was just that she was so goddamn happy. She still couldn't believe how well this insane affair with Tom and B'elanna worked, how right it felt. She should be running at top speed in the other direction--getting involved with two junior officers ten years younger than her who were already in love!--but suddenly she could think of a million reasons why this was the ideal relationship. Tom and B'elanna loved her unconditionally, without expecting anything in return, even that she tell them she loved them back. They wanted her because she *was* the captain, not in spite of it, and they weren't upset about having to share her with her ship. And because there were three of them, all the strain of giving enough to a demanding relationship didn't fall of her shoulders. If she had to work late, if she was exhausted, the two of them were perfectly happy to fuck themselves silly without her. And vice versa, she smirked. There had been plenty of times when B'elanna was swamped in engineering that she and her beautiful pilot had had their own private party-- although they always called B'elanna in the middle (on a secure channel of course) just to let her know they were thinking about her. Or, she mused, plenty of times when she'd gotten bored on the bridge and paid a little visit to engineering to take B'elanna in a jeffries tube, while Tom stayed at the helm and squirmed, knowing perfectly well what was going on. It was the perfect arrangement. And she was getting closer and closer to admitting to herself that she really was in love with them--both of them.
She was still grinning.
"Computer, location of Lieutenants Paris and Torres?"
They were so engrossed in what they were doing that they didn't hear her come in, or see her walk through the doorway of the bedroom. They didn't notice her, in fact, until she leaned over the bed and spoke into Tom's ear:
"Fuck her harder. Fuck her like a man, or I'll have to do it for you. She wants to feel it, she wants to be sore tomorrow."
They were in a sweaty heap on the bed, with Tom on top, B'elanna's legs wrapped around his waist, making love slowly--although now they had stilled. She was staring into B'elanna's stunned and wildly aroused eyes. Tom didn't know what else to do but comply, and he reared back onto his knees, got a good grip on B'elanna's hip with one hand, and started giving her a thorough pounding, almost pulling out before thrusting in again, putting his weight into it, eyes closed and head bowed. B'elanna threw her head back and roared, rising to meet every thrust. Kathryn continued to murmur obscene encouragement until B'elanna turned to her and growled:
"Get naked. Now!"
Kathryn stood up and, purposely avoiding her uniform top, reached down to take off her boots, followed by her pants and underwear. Both her lovers were watching her now. She straightened just as Tom was burying himself in B'elanna, poised with one hand on her hip, and with a deafening scream of surprise, both of them came. Before she'd come in, she'd taken the time to conceal a shiny black self-seating dick under her uniform, and now it jutted proudly out in front of her, beneath her uniformed torso. She stroked it with her fingertips as she watched Tom and B'elanna come down from their violent climax. Panting, Tom rolled off.
"Mother of Fehk'lar, Kathryn, what are you trying to do, kill us?" B'elanna gasped, not at all annoyed. Tom didn't say anything, he just pulled himself onto his hands and knees, crawled toward her, took her hips in his hands, and put out his tongue to flick the tip of the smooth cock. Kathryn shuddered. 'I guess that answers the question of who I'm going to fuck first...'
[and that's all she wrote! I'm such a tease...]