Turbo-Charged by Ancarett (ancarett@hotmail.com)
PART 1 of 2 PARTS
Summary: Trapped in a turbolift, how are Tom Paris and
B'Elanna Torres supposed to pass the time until a repair
crew arrives? Responding to a PTFever List Challenge.
Rated NC-17 for explicit m/f sexual content.
Tom Paris stopped cold as he rounded the corner from
Sickbay. Pulling a four-hour stint with the doc, reviewing
triage protocols, hadn't been the cheeriest experience of
the past few days, although he relished the EMH's grudging
praise at the end of a simulated emergency. Now he was
exhausted, the adrenaline rush that had carried him through
the medical studies ebbing as his body reasserted its
demands for rest and recovery after eighteen hours awake.
The doctor had pressed a medical tricorder on him as he
left, instructing Tom to review its recorded tutorial on
arterial repairs. Tom planned to dump the device on the
table in his quarters and forget it about it, at least for
a few hours. All he wanted was to get into the turbolift,
ride the short distance up to his quarters and collapse in
his bed. But his hopes were dashed as he saw the open
doors of the turbolift before him. On the floor of the
compartment lay an array of engineering tools. Dangling
incongruously from the ceiling of the lift were a pair of
shapely black-clad legs. One foot flailed about, seeking a
small ladder standing just to one side.
A grin crossed Tom's weary face as a muffled Klingon
curse confirmed his suspicion that it was B'Elanna Torres
in the turbolift. He speeded his pace the last few metres
and quietly stepped into the turbolift. While one hand
shifted the ladder directly under B'Elanna's searching
foot, he peered up into the small opening. Darkness
obscured his vision, but it definitely was B'Elanna. His
intimate acquaintance with the finer parts of her anatomy
(Tom paused to cast a loving eye along her slim derriere)
confirmed the diagnosis.
"B'Elanna?"
Thankfully, the engineer had already gotten a foothold
on the ladder, or B'Elanna would have tumbled through the
small access door down to the floor of the lift. As it
was, Tom was treated to a louder string of Klingon epithets
as she carefully extracted herself from the access hatch
and emerged into the confines of the lift. Her hair was
mussed and slightly sweaty and her eyes were narrowed in
anger as she stepped off of the ladder and onto the floor.
"What'd I do?" Tom asked plaintively as her gaze
lingered.
"Nothing but almost kill me! Tom, it's the middle of
gamma shift. What the hell are you doing here?" B'Elanna
crossed her arms in a familiar stance. Inwardly, Tom
groaned. A piqued B'Elanna Torres was not one of his
favourite sights, especially as tired as he was, when he
was likely to say something unguarded, outrageous that
would stoke her fury. His tired brain strove to marshal
his thoughts.
"Well, I was working here with the doctor." Tom's
free hand swept to the side and backwards, indicating the
medical suite where he'd been working. "Remember? I've
got extra hours to put in at Sickbay, refining my medical
skills."
Her shoulders relaxed slightly and B'Elanna's chin
lost its guarded tilt. "Oh, yeah, right. I forgot. But
what was the doctor thinking? Didn't you put in a full
shift on the bridge, earlier?" Anger coloured her voice
and she made to step past Tom into the corridor, obviously
intent on striding into Sickbay and dressing down the
holodoc. Tom restrained her with a hand on her upper arm.
"Yeah, the doc knows. Don't blame him, it was my
request," Tom explained as he urged B'Elanna back around to
face him. "I figured if I got these hours cleared off now
we'd have a little more time together later." He
relinquished his grip and lifted his hand to straighten and
stroke her hair.
B'Elanna's brown eyes closed and she momentarily
leaned into Tom's caress. But only for a moment, then her
eyes opened ruefully. "Time together, Tom? You must be
dreaming. It seems like Chakotay has got us scheduled for
completely opposite shifts and every time I have a rest
day, you're drawing double duty or vice versa."
"Well, I never thought I'd say this, but I don't think
you can blame Chakotay for this. I'm beginning to think he
actually kinda likes me. But since we realized how
dependent we are on the holodoc, when we thought we'd lost
him in the array, he and the captain have pushed me to
complete my training. It just happens that it's easier to
do that during the gamma shift, when there aren't so many
people needing to use sickbay." He smiled as he heard
himself. Who'd have thought that Tom Paris would be
defending Commander Chakotay? Would wonders never cease?
B'Elanna waved her hand tiredly, then stepped aside
from Tom's gentle hold to bend and begin to stow her tools.
"Whatever you say, Tom, but it's still damned inconvenient.
You've promised me that we were going to get to use the
holodeck again, our next free day together, but that looks
like it won't be for ten more days! We hardly ever see
each other." Speaking rapidly, B'Elanna efficiently stowed
her tools and moved them and the ladder to sit just outside
the turbolift.
Tom helped her set them against the wall. "Well,
we're together now," he said ingratiatingly.
B'Elanna's laugh was short and dismissive. "For all
the good it's going to do, Paris. We've got a huge repair
list and everyone else in Main Engineering is tearing their
hair out, trying to manufacture four hundred new metres of
flex wiring for the internal monitors that Tuvok found were
all damaged during the Hirogen's `visit'." She pushed a
dark strand of hair behind her ear then, with her hands at
the small of her back, groaned feelingly. "We'll never get
it all done."
"Why aren't you down there in Main Engineering,
working on the wiring instead of tinkering with
turbolifts?" Tom asked.
"Because I've already had two other people try to fix
the lift and it keeps stalling out. I think there was some
undetected damage to the command interface during the
Hirogen takeover. Probably the best thing would be to
install a new one but. . . ." B'Elanna's voice trailed off
in frustration and she looked down. A new problem caught
her eye. "Damn!"
"What?" Tom's eyes followed her downward and saw the
rip in her smock and uniform top. Liberally smudged with
lubricant and dust where she'd leaned against the edge of
the access hatch, a small trickle of blood seeped out from
a scratch on her abdomen, further staining the uniform.
"Great, just great," B'Elanna complained, an edge of
frustration darkening her voice. "Now I have to go back up
to my quarters and see if I have a clean, intact uniform
left!"
"After you," Tom indicated the Jeffries tube access
door with a gallant wave of the arm.
"No," she forestalled, walking back into the
turbolift, "I've completed interim repairs on the
turbolift. It should work fine now until we get a new
command interface replicated, tested and installed." Tom
accompanied her into the confined space, both automatically
turning around to face forwards.
"Torres to Main Engineering," B'Elanna hailed briskly.
"Engineering here."
"Restore power to the turbolift," Voyager's chief
engineer ordered. She and Tom both felt the slight hum the
signaled power flowing into the lift's main systems.
B'Elanna smiled in satisfaction. "Deck four," she ordered.
But before more than a moment passed, the smooth rise of
the turbolift turned into a terrifying lurch. A bright,
electric glow pervaded the roof of the cabin and the pair
instinctively ducked to the floor as sparks arced
dangerously close to their heads. In an instant, they were
plunged into darkness as safeties cut power to the lift's
systems.
Crouched on the floor in the dark, half-covering
B'Elanna with his body, Tom waited for further disaster.
But the rooftop systems were safely silenced, and the
mechanical emergency brakes held the cabin securely, if
inaccessibly, between decks four and five. Underneath him,
Tom felt B'Elanna shift impatiently. She freed a hand to
tap her combadge.
"Torres to Engineering," she rapped out.
"Engineering here."
"What the hell happened here? I just finished repairs
on the turbolift and then the whole system was knocked out
by some sort of power surge!"
Joe Carey's calm voice replied, "Lieutenant, I'm not
sure what happened, but it looks like there the turbolift
systems sustained more damage in the Hirogen attack than
we'd first suspected. The sensors recorded a spike in the
shaft's subprocessor buffer between Decks Four and Five
that coincided with the turbolift failure. Looks like
you'll have to do some more repairs."
B'Elanna groaned. "I can't, Joe. Tom and I were
riding in the turbolift when the system crashed. You're
going to have to beam us out."
"Sorry, chief, no can do. The power's down on the
internal sensors while we getting the wiring repaired,
remember? No sensors, no internal transports."
"Damn, that's right! Well, can you hurry and get us
out of here? With the power outage in the turbolift, we
don't have even emergency lights and I left my tools on
Deck Five."
Tom chimed in helpfully, "I do have my medical
tricorder."
Even in the dark, he could feel B'Elanna's ire.
Barely controlled anger tinged her for-the-record response,
"Thank you very much, Lieutenant Paris, but I don't think
that'll be much help."
Joe Carey interrupted before they could indulge in a
full-scale argument. "Well, there's nothing for it but to
send a repair crew up through the Jeffries Tubes. That'll
take a while. Then we'll have to coordinate at the bridge
to isolate the turbolift controls, engage in a partial
powerup and begin repairs. It's going to take some time."
B'Elanna's tired sigh was answer enough for Tom. He
shifted himself so that he was sitting beside her on the
floor of the darkened compartment. "That's okay, Joe," he
acknowledged for her. "B'Elanna and I will catch a little
shut-eye while you guys do the climbing."
They both could hear the amused tone in Joe Carey's
acknowledgement. Then silence fell.
"So," Tom asked as he carefully worked his arm around
her shoulders, "want a bedtime story?"
"Urgh!" was B'Elanna's immediate reply. Tom could
feel the tension in her upper body. "I don't have time to
be in here. There's all this work to do and here I go,
making more by screwing up the repairs on the turbolift!"
"Hey, didn't you hear Joe?" he chided as he tried to
massage a little of the tightness out of her shoulders and
neck. "He said it was a power spike. There probably was a
failure further down the line, nothing you could have found
while working on the command interface."
"Hah," was B'Elanna's contemptuous retort, "that's
what you say. But I'm the Chief of Engineering. I'm
supposed to figure these things out!"
"Nobody's perfect, Torres," Tom soothed as he
continued to rub and caress the back of her neck, "not even
me." Even though the lift was dark, his smile was evident
in his voice. Some of Tom's humour must have reached
B'Elanna, for she began to relax and lean into Tom's hold.
The warmth of her body was palpable. Tom found his mind
automatically assessing the differences in metabolic rates
due to her half-Klingon physiology before he damped down
the medical stream-of-consciousness. Tom chuckled.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, just found myself automatically thinking
like I was in sickbay. If only the doctor could see me
now!"
B'Elanna straightened a bit more in his grasp. "You
mean in the dark, on the floor with me and one of us
injured?"
"No! Though that's certainly what he expects of us,
isn't it?" Tom concluded in mock sorrow. "And I didn't
even do anything, this time."
B'Elanna's hand found its way to his chest. "We could
change that," she suggested huskily. A warm, feminine leg
insinuated itself over his thigh and between his legs.
Suddenly, Tom found himself prone on the turbolift floor,
held there as much by his own acquiescence as B'Elanna's
maneuvers.
"Whatever do you mean, Lieutenant?" he asked, feigning
ignorance. "Are you implying that we might engage in some
non-regulation behavior?"
The kisses B'Elanna was trailing along his jawbone to
his left earlobe were somewhat distracting. Despite his
exhaustion, Tom experienced a sensual jolt as her teeth
gently bit down on the lobe. Delicately, B'Elanna tugged
on the lobe, a muted growl accompanying her action. Her
teeth closed on the tender flesh and a spark of pain,
mingled with pleasure, rushed along his nerves. He
struggled to continue his banter. "What would the Captain
say?"
"Who's going to tell her?" B'Elanna retorted as she
rose slightly above Tom. The warmth of her breath came
close to his lips as she continued, "the repair crew's
going to take at least half an hour to get up to Deck Four
and start repairs. They won't be able to tell. I won't
tell. Are you saying you'll tell? Or are you too tired
for this?" As she ended her speech, B'Elanna's lips lay
against Tom's own. No longer able or willing to feign
reluctance, Tom opened his lips to capture hers in a
thorough kiss. Rocking his pulsing erection against her
hips, he let his body give the assurance his words could
not.
Tom felt the satisfied curve of B'Elanna's lips as she
met his kiss with equal passion. She lowered her torso
against his own, her curves and weight a further
excitement. Tom reached up to push aside the drape of her
smock. His lover accommodatingly shifted her shoulders to
ease the garment's removal. As she hurriedly flung that
aside, her own hands working at his uniform jacket, Tom was
loosening her own. They separated somewhat to hasten
disrobing.
The darkness of the small compartment was total. Even
though B'Elanna's face was mere inches away, Tom couldn't
make out her features. But his memory and his other senses
aided his fingers in reconstructing the scene above him.
He savoured the musky undertone to B'Elanna's citrus-tinged
scent, rising above the acid, scorched taste of the air
that drifted past the burned-out controls. In the
unaccustomed silence of the lift, he clearly heard the
whisper of her hair as she shifted her body upright over
his own. The harsh rhythm of her breath slowed as she
deepened her sensual spell.
The impressions became more and more detailed as his
mind drifted into the web of their lovemaking. B'Elanna,
arching back, her pelvis possessively rocking over his
increasingly constrained penis. Her lips pursing then
relaxing as his thumbs circled her nipples in slow strokes.
He felt her warm capable hands settle on his chest, lifting
the hem of his gray turtleneck. She curled her fingers
into his chest hair, pulling gently and kneading
erotically. Impatiently, she pushed his shirt higher,
tugging at the material. Tom struggled to rise and remove
the garment before B'Elanna tore it in her haste. He'd had
enough uniforms ruined that way!
While he sat on the turbolift floor, tugging at his
black boots, B'Elanna crouched beside him. A whisper of
cloth and two soft "clunks" signaled the discard of her
black pants and boots. Naked, she knelt at Tom's shoulder.
He flinched as her tongue traced a line from his shoulder
to nape of his neck, dropping a boot through nerveless
fingers. The tongue returned, licking a path from the nape
of his neck to the small of his back, while B'Elanna's
hands crept around to encircle his waist. One hand reached
inside the waistband to measure the length of his erection
with feathering strokes. Another joined the first, pushing
Tom's pants down and freeing his engorged penis.
"B'Elanna, if you don't stop, I'm gonna explode right
here," Tom choked. B'Elanna's only answer was to graze the
edge of her teeth along the length of his spinal column
while her hands continued their explorations. Kneeling,
B'Elanna embraced Tom from behind, her breast crushed
against his back, her teeth marking the line of his
shoulders, her inner thighs flexing and relaxing against
his hipbones. Almost unable to think, Tom managed to work
his pants down around his ankles. B'Elanna's grip loosened
as he twisted his body around to capture her lips in a
powerful kiss.
Entwined, they rocked back against the floor,
B'Elanna's head twisting to one side to avoid the wall of
their small compartment. "Oww," she complained as her neck
twisted awkwardly. Tom shifted his weight back on his
knees, allowing B'Elanna to slide away from the wall,
further underneath his long length. Then he lowered his
torso to rub against hers, his shaft pressing at her pelvic
mound. Mouth open for his kiss, B'Elanna groaned with
sexual longing. Her hands locked around his neck,
deepening their kiss while her legs arched over his own.
She used the surprising strength of the thighs to throw Tom
off balance, rolling him onto his back.
Her heard her pleased growl, before she closed the
distance between their upper bodies for a sharp nip on his
cheek. Kisses followed, easing the brief pain as they
trailed down his torso. B'Elanna stopped for a leisurely
inspection of his nipples, combing one hand through his
chest hair as she licked and teased his nipples into
erection. Then her mouth continued its erotic exploration,
across his abdomen and down to his penis. Her tongue
traced a wet trail from base to tip, then, B'Elanna
crouching between his legs, she repeated her actions from
the underside. Involuntarily, Tom's hips arched off the
floor and he struggled to maintain some sort of control.
"B'Elanna!" he huskily warned. His lover continued her
torment. Her right hand gently cupped and rolled his
testicles while her mouth tasted and tested his readiness.
The warm pants of her breath accentuated Tom's arousal and
as she took his penis into her mouth, sucking strongly, he
could no longer control himself. He came with a hoarse
shout and a convulsive jerk of his body.
In the unnerving silence of the dead turbolift,
B'Elanna's husky laugh of satisfaction was all that Tom
heard, despite the racing beat of his heart and the harsh
rasp of his own breath. As he lay, shattered and spent, he
felt her slim, warm body mold itself along and over the
length of his torso. Small but strong hands lay crossed
over his sternum and he felt the added pressure of
B'Elanna's chin molding them to his chest. A chuckle
stirred her body.
"What's so funny?" Tom asked.
"I finally got to check out your tools," B'Elanna
answered.
Tom smiled. "Did they check out okay?"
"I'd say that they were in great condition and perfect
for some work I have in mind."
"Oh, what kind of work?" Tom bantered back.
B'Elanna inched her head up to Tom's. "Well, there's
a certain engineering problem I've been having. . . ." The
half-Klingon's voice trailed off suggestively. Her warm
breath tickled the hair near his ears and he raised an arm
to smooth along the length of her back.
B'Elanna squirmed away from his hand, nudging her leg
against his flaccid penis. Tom felt a stirring as her body
moved across his own. B'Elanna felt it, too. Tom heard it
in her husky laugh as she lowered her lips to his, stealing
a kiss.
He brought his other arm up to secure their embrace,
opening his mouth to stroke at hers with his tongue.
Sweeping inside with strong strokes, his tongue twined
against hers. Tom broke their kiss only to roll his lover
over onto her back. Now it was his turn to laugh as he
felt her body respond to his caresses. B'Elanna gasped as
his tongue traced a slow line up and down the side of her
neck. Tom's teeth delicately nibbled at the edge of her
jaw. She felt her blood burn as his teeth playfully
scraped her cheek.
Unconsciously, she rocked her hips closer to his, but
Tom's lankier form arched tantalizingly out of reach.
"Toooom," she moaned longingly. Her arms edged around his
back, demandingly pulling him into a deeper embrace.
B'Elanna's smooth thighs cradled Tom's pelvis, inviting his
penetration, but still Tom waited. He turned his attention
to B'Elanna's breasts, moistening the nipples with his
tongue before drawing each into his mouth.
"Tom," B'Elanna managed to choke out, "either do
something now or I'll break every bone in your body!" Her
hand reached between their sweat-beaded bodies to grasp his
penis, drawing it towards her moistly eager crevice.
Whether it was the threat or the enticement, Tom
complied with B'Elanna's demand and joined their bodies
with a forceful thrust. United, they rocked in a
quickening rhythm. The utter darkness swept away any sense
of time or place and the two lovers' gasps were the only
sounds to be heard until B'Elanna's coming climax forced a
series of guttural shouts from her lips. As spasms rocked
her body, Tom, too, lost his control and slammed into her
with a final shout. "God, B'Elanna!"
Pants gave way to normal breathing as the two lovers
remained coupled. As Tom's heartbeat slowed, awareness
returned and he moved to lift his weight from B'Elanna's
smaller form.
"No, Tom, stay a bit," B'Elanna murmured sleepily.
"Bee, I'd love to but we _are_ in turbolift," Tom
reminded.
B'Elanna bucked Tom off with a sudden jerk and sat up
abruptly. "Migod, the repair crew should be here any
minute and we're sitting here without any clothes on!"
Frantically, she began to search the floor of the turbolift
for their discarded uniforms. "What I wouldn't give for
some light!"
Tom's fingers swept the smooth surface of his
tricorder. He lifted the instrument, thumbing its controls
so a faint glow lit the display. "Hey, the tricorder
should have something that can help us. There's a small
light available in the field diagnostic mode." His finger
tapped the appropriate control and a narrow but powerful
beam of light emerged from the tricorder.
B'Elanna grabbed the instrument and turned the light
to the pile of garments she'd accumulated. "Red, that's
yours, Tom. Here's my smock. Now whose pants are these?
Must be mine!" Dressing took only a few minutes, although
B'Elann grumbled about trying to restore some order to her
hair. Tom used his hands to smooth her hair into its
normal style. Dressed and presentable, the two stared at
each other illuminated in the light of the tricorder. "Now
what?" asked Tom.
B'Elanna looked around angrily. "After all our
rushing you'd think they'd be here by now!" But before she
could speak anymore, her combadge chirped, and Lt. Carey's
cheerful voice hailed Voyager's Chief Engineer.
"Joe, what took you guys so long?" B'Elanna demanded.
"Well, when he was climbing up through the Jeffries
Tubes, Ensign Vorik dropped one of the replacement
subprocessors and I had to send him back to Main
Engineering to fabricate a new one. I also noticed some
related damage in the shaft at deck nine, so we stopped and
did some repairs there. I tried hailing you earlier but
you weren't responding."
Embarrassment tinged B'Elanna's voice. "Yeah, well, I
guess we fell asleep here."
Tom chimed in before B'Elanna's transparent lies could
be questioned. "The important question, Joe, is how soon
are you going to get us out? I've got another duty shift
on the bridge starting at 0800!"
"You and everyone else, Lieutenant Paris. The gamma
shift's been buzzing about the turbolift being out of
service all this time. But it looks like we've got the new
units installed and checked out. I'm going to signal the
bridge to restore internal power to this section and then
bring the lift up to Deck Four. Should have you out in a
jiffy."
Standing there in the darkened turbolift, the pair
waited for just a few seconds after Joe Carey finished
speaking and then with a familiar hum, lights flooded the
turbolift compartment. Both blinked in the sudden
brightness, then lurched as the chamber began to move,
rising steadily the few remaining metres to the next Deck.
The doors smoothly opened to reveal Joe and two other
engineers, standing just outside the doors. A profusion of
instruments and parts lay strewn in the corridor.
"Good to see you, Lieutenants," Joe Carey greeted.
"Sorry about the inconvenience." Ensign Geria Sakulla took
some readings from a large engineering diagnostic unit
while Ensign Vorik continued to pack away tools and
supplies.
Tom waved airily as he exited the turbolift a step
behind B'Elanna. "No problem, Joe. But I've really got to
get back to my quarters and catch a little shuteye before
I'm due on the bridge."
B'Elanna indicated her torn and stained smock. "And
I'd better change this. Can you guys finish up here and
then join me back in engineering? I'll need your data for
the end-of-shift report for Commander Chakotay." As she
followed Tom down the corridor, Ensign Vorik's eyes were
caught by something inside the turbolift. He stepped into
the compartment and picked up two gray, crumpled uniform
undershirts. "Lieutenant Carey, it appears that Lieutenant
Torres and Lieutenant Paris left these behind. Should I
follow and return them? I fail to understand why they
should have removed these garments and failed to retrieve
them." The young Vulcan eyed the garments with puzzlement,
unable to assure himself of the proper protocol for this
situation. His relations with his superior and the
helmsman had never been easy since . . . the young Vulcan
refused to recall any more of that embarrassing situation
at Sakari IV. Nevertheless, certainly they should be
grateful to have their uniform garments returned.
Vorik's eyebrows arched in surprise as Lieutenant
Carey snatched the clothing out of his hand, stuffing it
into an engineering pouch. "No need, Ensign. We've got
enough work to do, certifying the turbolift for full use.
I'll pass them on to the Lieutenants later." Ensign Sakulla
stifled a smile at her superior's quick recovery. It was
easy for the human engineers to deduce what had gone on in
the turbolift. And Vulcans thought they were so
perceptive. . . .
THE END
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