Chapter 1
Harry Kim woke with a smile on his face. That’d been one hell of a
dream, the best of many if truth be told. For
the past month or so his nights had been invaded by increasingly erotic
‘incidents’ – albeit completely and totally in his hyperactive imagination
– with the Borg babe that Captain Janeway seemed intent on pairing him up with
- in a work context, anyway.
She was most definitely put together.
And what an Ice maiden! Sometimes
the job meant they had to get real close… and in his fantasies the accidental
touches while working became searing stolen moments.
The best had been when Voyager’s avoidance manoeuvre had sent them
crashing to the floor together – and yeah, the earth had moved, and how!
Happy landings…but not as happy as last night’s!
He opened one eye to check the time and turned over onto his side.
There was a good half hour before he was due on duty and since the sonic
shower would take care of his personal grooming in about 30 seconds, he could
allow himself a few more minutes to wallow in that delicious snooze zone between
sleep and waking.
“Morning, sexy,” he murmured to Seven, who lay naked at his side,
blonde hair for once free of pins and spread out on the pillow.
“Yes, I believe it is morning, Ensign Kim. I am aware of the hour.”
“Sorry, Seven.” Harry
smiled dreamily then frowned as his sleepy brain tried desperately to grasp the
elusive little niggle presently zipping and bouncing round inside his head.
The lightweight, heat efficient cover was grabbed suddenly as Harry leapt
from the bed like it was on fire. He
smacked his head on the sloping ceiling, ducked down and crashed into the
clarinet and music stand that stood to one side of the bed.
In a tangle of limbs, cover, sheet music and stand, Kim collapsed in an
undignified heap as he stared aghast at the naked and extremely nubile Borg
drone lying on his bed.
“Erm…Seven? What… what
are you doing here?”
“I do not understand your question.
Are you unable to recall last night?” Seven raised an elegant eyebrow.
“There were the intruders I told you about and I showed you diagrams?
We copulated. You were very
energetic once your initial reluctance was breached. Resistance – after all – was futile.”
“That…was really real?” Harry croaked.
He recalled all right. And
despite his horror at finding himself in this compromising situation with his
sexy but haughty shipmate, his body recalled too. In fact said body decided to demonstrate just how pleasant
and arousing that recollection was. He
followed Seven’s eyes down to his crotch…there was definite tenting.
“Ensign. I calculate that
there’s a time slot of 3 minutes 37 seconds when we could engage in more
coupling before you need to prepare for your shift. Please approach.”
Harry’s legs automatically obeyed her commanding tone, brain no longer
capable of functioning through the shock. Seven
shifted over obviously expecting him to join her.
Harry stood still, terrified, hands gripping the soft material.
“3 minutes 11 seconds and counting, Mr Kim. I’m sure you are capable of satisfying me within those
parameters?”
Three words played on a loop in Harry’s mind…resistance is futile.
++++++++++++++++
Jonathan, Andrew and Warren were bickering. It was a typical morning in their lair therefore and much fun
had been had with the transporter episode.
The argument centred on whether or not the failure to record the action
for posterity was the fault of Andrew or Jonathan. Warren was smugly denying any responsibility.
“Well, it’s obviously not me because hello – evil mastermind!
You guys wanted to head up Surveillance but if you can’t cut it...
Anyway it’s my mom’s basement so I’m exempt.”
“What the…since when? Where
was that written down?”
Warren Mears had been waiting for that.
“Well duh…the board! Don’t
tell me you didn’t read the back of it? Standard
disclaimer, guys. You both signed
the mission statement.”
Andrew and Jonathan stared at each other, open-mouthed.
Andrew marvelled at the genius of Warren’s slyness; Jonathan grew a
little unsettled with Warren’s duplicity.
But they both had signed the board.
“Okay, so you got us. But
what’s to fight about? We just do
over, that’s all. It’ll work
again. We send ‘em back – or
forwards, or wherever the hell they went to - rig up a
recording device that'll travel with them and later…sell the DVDs for
mucho dinero. It’ll be the
hottest ticket in town!”
It was Warren’s turn to gape. Who’d
have thought it? The squirt was a
regular brainiac. Andrew kicked
himself for not thinking of it before his vertically challenged friend.
“Nice idea, short round. Repeatomode
it is, right now!”
The three scrambled off to rig up the necessary equipment.
+++++++++++
Spike and Buffy had rematerialized in Spike’s crypt, still clasping
each other tightly and lying on a Persian rug.
They were both dumbstruck at the experience, wondering if they’d had a
shared hallucination. Buffy broke
the silence…
“Spike…did we…was that…real?
The spaceship, the weird guns?”
“Think so, pet. Least, it
felt bloody real to me.” He
smirked. “Well, you did…”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Wanna
think with the grey cells, mister, and not little Spike there.
Don’t you think it was kinda freaky?”
Spike kissed her nose, bounced to his feet and strolled over to the side
table grabbing a fresh packet of cigarettes and popping one between his teeth.
He lit it with his ever-present Zippo and took a deep drag.
“Freaked? Hardly,
sweetheart. Grateful for the time I
got to spend with you, is all. Thing
is, Buffy, if it means I get you all to myself with no soddin’ Scoobies giving
me the old evil eye, I’d sign on to crew Apollo bloody 13 first thing in the
morning.”
Buffy got up and wandered over to the sarcophagus, perching on the cold
stone surface with her legs swinging and brow creased in deep thought mode.
She didn’t answer him and Spike noted her demeanour and sighed.
She’d promised that when they got back she’d tell everyone about
them. Empty words, empty promises.
Of course it wouldn’t change the way he felt – he was used to being
kicked in the teeth. But he’d
hoped, allowed himself to feel actual hope and anticipation, that she’d
finally worked through her self-imposed barriers and was ready to include him in
her life. He dipped his head, ready for the brush-off.
Buffy didn’t disappoint. Without
another word she bounced to her feet and shook out her hair - And so she was
off. Bizarre as the night had been,
it looked like the ending would be the usual cut and run.
She’d had her fun and now she’d be scampering away, back into the
arms of the Scoobies and their sanctimonious bloody preaching.
Well, let her. She’d be back. And
maybe one day she’d be sorry if he was gone when she came running in through
the…oh sod it, who was he trying to kid!
He was love’s bitch and would be waiting for her until hell froze over. Longer, if necessary.
She smoothed her hair, retying it with a hair clip and started towards
the door. Spike stood over by the
battered armchair affecting an air of ‘couldn’t care less’, determined not
to give her the satisfaction of knowing how hurt he was. She’d talked big over in the spaceship, but ultimately
things would be just the same.
Buffy paused at the door and turned.
“You coming with?”
Spike’s ecstatic smile lit up her world.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Buffy arrived at the Magic Box before Spike, who’d taken the
less–combustible route of the sewers. She
greeted Anya, trying not to show her annoyance when the ex-vengeance demon
completely blanked her, shoving her to one side so as to reach the actual paying
customers who came in behind her. Anya
and her crinkly green babies – ‘Dollar’ and ‘Another Dollar’.
How she loved them!
They’d decided on a quick visit to the Magic Box before Buffy went to
check on Dawn, simply to report in and get the research started.
Both of them had momentarily forgotten that since leaving school the
Scoobies had to get involved in real life with jobs and more study and the like.
The only ‘Scooby’ available therefore was Anya and she wasn’t
really big with the research or helping anybody out for purely humanitarian
reasons. No, she was more the
‘I’ll help you if it’s not too difficult, doesn’t upset my day, or if
you pay me’ kind. Spike had to
respect that in her. Very
vamp-like.
And as for Giles…well, he’d packed his bags and gone back to England
following the day that wouldn’t end, the painful singing day, and the naughty
Willow mojo that made them all forget who they were day.
Buffy stifled a whimper at the thought that she’d have to research
alone. Spike seemed to sense her
distress, shoving open the door from the back room where he’d entered via the
sewers and striding across to grip her hand in comfort.
Buffy jerked her hand away and Spike allowed his to drop to his side,
bowing his head to hide the tears forming in his limpid blue eyes.
How much more could he take of this rollercoaster…
He almost fainted when instead of moving away from him, Buffy suddenly
wrapped her arms round his neck and snuggled into his chest.
He stood, Buffy moulded to his body, his arms flailing about at his sides
and his mouth gaping like a landed fish, as his brain tried to process the
required information to make him move. Autonomic
response took over eventually and he hugged her tight against him, his smile
threatening to take over his entire face.
Anya had dealt with the customers and was headed to the storeroom; as she
passed the entwined couple she remarked, “It’s about time you two did
something to fix all that unresolved sexual tension. It was making me too horny all the time and Xander needs so
much recuperation between couplings.”
She breezed by, airily announcing, “We had to buy a battery charger to
keep the toys primed. You’re so
lucky, Buffy –vampires are renowned for their stamina.”
Spike froze, certain that one of Buffy’s punch-in-the-nose specials was
heading his way at the comment about their sexual relationship.
Stunned, he looked down to see her shoulders shaking as she tried to
restrain the laughter. She lifted
her head and shouted after the retreating ex-demon “Don’t I know it!”
Spike gripped Buffy’s shoulders and held her slightly away, his hands
remaining in contact with her flesh as he tilted his head in question.
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my Slayer?”
Features softened with happiness were turned towards him and he gasped at
the sight of the woman he adored, captive in his arms and gazing at him with
love and satisfaction.
“Silly!
It’s me! And you’re
right…I am your Slayer. I’m
your Slayer, your Buffy, your lover, your anything you want me to be.
Isn’t it wonderful?”
Spike laughed with the joy of it as he picked her up and spun her round
till she squealed for mercy, finally setting her down on the stairs and standing
inside her parted legs. He kissed
her softly, gently, channelling all of his love into the kiss.
Buffy swooned in it, knowing now how he worshipped her and would continue
to do so until the day he dusted.
She smiled up at him, flushed and happy as he took a step back, her hand
still loosely holding on to one of his, the easy familiarity of the gesture
thrilling him.
“Buffy…I didn’t think you’d…are you sure?”
Buffy leaned forwards, eager to reassure him that she was very, VERY
sure. She knew how she felt, she
couldn’t tell him yet – but she could show him.
“Spike, I’ve never been more certain about anything in my whole life.
I told you during our mad space trip, I’m not gonna hide you away any
more like something I’m ashamed of. The
only thing I’m ashamed of is me, the horrible way I’ve treated you.”
Spike went to interrupt. “No!
Let me finish! You’ve done nothing but show me and my and friends how
sincere and loyal you are and all I’ve done is take what I wanted then kick
you in the groin. Enough.
It stops right now.”
Spike just knew he had the nancy boy William look on his face, and he
couldn’t care less. Demon was
happy that the Slayer was caving in while the poet was overflowing with soft
romantic gloopiness that the woman he loved was declaring her feelings at last,
albeit without the actual words of love out loud.
He could wait for that.
“Besides…I’ve got way better things to do to your groin…”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Seven. Mr Kim.
You’re both late. I take it you have good reason and that it won’t happen
again, so let’s not waste any more time.
Chakotay – continue.”
Captain Janeway barked out her orders as she paced the ready room, hands
on her hips, fingers tapping out her frustration. First of all they had intruders of unknown origin hiding out
in a Jeffries tube for who knew how long, no explanation, no idea why they were
there. And now two of her senior
officers were neglecting their duty.
It just wouldn’t do. They
may be the only Starfleet vessel in the Delta quadrant and years from home but
that was no reason to let standards slip.
“It appears that the two intruders were humanoid, but the internal
scanners have also identified anomalies in their genetic makeup.
The female seemed to be endowed with super strength, enhanced healing
powers, overall a higher metabolic rate than normal.
The male…well, there were human genes but the other component…we just
don’t know. He had equal strength to the female but he appeared to
be without functioning organs – no heartbeat, no endocrine system, nothing.
There is no matching genetic fingerprint in the databanks and the doctor
has been unable to suggest any explanation as to their origin.”
The doctor’s testy voice echoed from the com channel link.
“Yet! No explanation
yet! I did say, Commander
Chakotay, that I was very near to identifying the heretofore unknown material.
As you know, I have proven invaluable in the past where such situations
have arisen, my intellect, of course, is beyond the imaginings of your average
medical personnel. Need I remind
you of the time I…?”
“Thank you, doctor, that will be all.”
Janeway cut off the channel and the screen went blank.
She turned back to the conference table to be met by equally blank faces.
She held the eyes of each of her officers until one by one they had to
look away.
“Anything? Do we have any
ideas on this? Seven – you made a
study of them I believe. Can you
show us your findings? I’d be
interested to see what you learned from the – there must be something else we
can call them other than intruders – visitors?”
Tom Paris noted Seven’s heightened colour. Was that a blush? The
stoic Borg? Surely not.
He nudged B’elanna to draw her attention.
Her eyes widened at the sight of the normally calm and serene Seven of
Nine as she stuttered and shifted in her seat, cheeks definitely red in hue.
She turned to her husband and giggled, stifling the sound behind a
manufactured cough.
“I…Captain, the data was…corrupted somewhat.” Out of the corner of her eye, Seven watched Harry squirm in
his seat as he fought the impulse to run. “I
may be able to assemble some parts of it…to present…but there will
be…partial degradation.”
The sound of Harry’s chair scraping along the floor drew everybody’s
attention. At Janeway’s quizzical
look he mumbled, “I’m sorry, Captain…I apologise…I feel…unwell.
May I go to sick bay?”
Janeway nodded; the boy did look green around the gills and he had
been late – most un-Kimlike. Maybe
he’d been affected by the intrusion.
Gratefully, Kim scuttled to the door avoiding Seven’s eyes.
“Harry. While you’re
there ask the doctor to run a scan for all levels of bacteria, microbes,
viruses. If our visitors are
carriers of anything harmful, our first priority will be to prepare a hypospray
antidote for crew inoculation.”
“Yes, Captain.”
He’d never been so relieved to hear the sound of the door swishing shut
behind him.
Back in the conference room, B’elanna and Tom were whispering to each
other until Seven shot them a chilling glare.
In that instant, Tom understood Harry’s sudden illness.
Seven of Nine had taken a bite out of the young ensign.
‘Well, he’s a braver man then m…’
“Settle down, people. We’re
no nearer to understanding this. Seven
– go work on your presentation. I
want it by 1600 hours, no later. Tom
– check the Delta Flyer over and make sure it’s good to go. If they return we may need to move quickly.
B’elanna – I want a complete tune-up of the drive systems, warp core,
weapons array. We’ve no idea what
their purpose is in contacting us and we’d be wise to prepare for any
eventuality. I need to know that
there’ll be instantaneous response. Tuvok
- it’s obvious the scanners weren’t calibrated to alert us to the
intruders’ presence. With the
data from the doctor and Seven I want you to ensure that doesn’t happen again.
Neelix – have you come across anything like this before?”
“Well…yes…and no. Not
exactly like this but there is an ancient legend told amongst my people of a
race of beings who possess superior strength because they are imbued with the
essence of a demon, an evil being. They
dwell in darkness and live forever drinking the blood of people they hunt.”
Tom snorted. “Neelix,
that’s ludicrous! You’ve just
described vampires! We have tales
of them on Earth too. But that’s
all it is – tales -- vampires don’t exist.”
Janeway smiled wryly. Vampires
from Outer Space!
“Let’s hope so, Tom. Well,
people – let’s get to work. I
want you all back here by 1600 for Seven’s report.
I’m sure she’ll be able to shed some light on the whole thing.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Dawn was devouring breakfast like she’d not eaten in a month when Buffy
and Spike burst through the door, Spike smacking at the flames that were licking
at his duster. She jumped up with a
squeak of surprise, heavily syruped pancake dangling from her mouth.
“Guys!” she spluttered, “Sheesh, dramatic entrance much!
What’s up?”
Buffy moved towards her sister, feeling as though she hadn’t seen her
in ages when in reality it was only last night before patrol.
Dawn didn’t seem at all concerned that her sister had stayed out all
night. Certainly hadn’t made a
dent in her ever-present appetite.
“Syrup, Dawn? What
happened to eating healthy stuff?”
The teenager licked her fingers guiltily. Busted. Time to
play the abandoned card…
“Erm…well, I was all alone and the house was so quiet.
I didn’t know what to make, so I just thought…”
Big blue eyes focused on the tiny figure of her sister who was wringing
her hands and looked about to cry; momentarily Dawn thought better of her ruse
but now she’d started it she didn’t know how to stop.
She didn’t have to, Spike did it for her.
“Now, Niblet – stop funning with your sister. You trying to tell us that you didn’t snore the solid
twelve hours you usually do, lulled to sleep by some overly cheery music and
dreaming of some spotty lad with a face like a slapped arse? Come on – I’ll bet you didn’t even realise she was
gone, did you?”
Dawn opened her mouth to object and even got the first syllable out
before she ran into a wall of ice blue eyes and earnest face that adored her and
she knew it. She couldn’t lie to
him.
“Okay! I get it! I’m
sorry! No, Buffy, I just
thought you were sleeping the sleep of the pooped out Slayer. I decided to sneak a sugar OD while the coast was clear.
But now you mention it…where have you guys been?”
It was Buffy and Spike’s turn to look shifty.
How to explain to Dawn that they’d been in space, on a space ship, with
aliens and without clothes or inhibitions?
The PG version, obviously.
“Dawn, you wouldn’t believe us if we told you. Remember that movie Galaxy Quest?”
++++++++++++
Andrew, Jonathan and Warren had spent hours assembling the ingredients
and equipment to run the time/space travel trick again.
It needed to be tweaked because although they could tell that Spike and
Buffy had left this continuum and also when they returned, they had no way of
knowing what had happened when they were gone.
Or even where they went to.
Oh, sure, Jonathan couldn’t shut up about the fact that he’d made a
transporter system that actually worked and to hell with science fiction and the
impossibility of it all. But it was
just as likely that all they’d done with the duo was zap them on top of a
mountain somewhere, or even right into the sewer system beneath Sunnydale’s
grimy streets. Hell, they could
have just been on repeato again like Buffy had been the last time they’d
messed with her.
So, hence the tweaking of the spell to include a recording device.
The Troika were going to do it right this time, complete with full
distribution rights and a sideline in blackmail, courtesy of the Biggest Bad and
the Hottest Slayer – the Sex Tapes Volume 1 ‘Beyond the Outer Limits’ ™.
They’d been watching the two of them of late and there was definitely
something of a smoochie nature going on between them.
Time to cash in.
“Short round – will it be ready before I die of old age?”
Jonathan was beginning to resent Warren’s derogatory comments.
At first he’d laughed along just glad to be part of something,
anything. But now – the
height-related slights were starting to sting. And anyway, like Warren Mears was God’s gift….. Wasn’t
like he could get himself a real girl…
“Yes it’s ready. Haven’t
I said so already?”
Warren backed away, palms upraised and forward in supplication.
“Just asking, Mini-me. No
need to bite my knees.”
Jonathan shot him a glare, hidden quickly by his bowed head.
Now was not the time to kick off. That
time would come.
“Well, let’s get to it then. No time like the present is there?
Andrew – you ready to record?”
“Yes sir, mon capitain! Beam
them up, Shorty!”
The three boys dissolved into less than manly giggles at the reference to
one of their favourite shows, Jonathan belatedly reacting to yet another slight
with a scowl. Andrew had been
waiting hours to throw that line in and was beaming with pride that it had gone
down so well.
As the laughter subsided Jonathan closed his eyes and started chanting, sprinkling golden powder over a pot filled with blood and shaking his magic bone.