Round Robin
CHAPTER TITLE: Desert Trials
AUTHOR: Path
RATING: PG-13
CODES: C/T
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Paramount owns them, we don't. We're just playing with them and having fun. Please try to enjoy it. Beta'd by Brenda Shaffer-Shiring.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: The event with the Botha is over, but now Chakotay and B'Elanna have to deal with the stirring admissions of their dreams.
Chakotay ran a nervous hand through his black hair, while monitoring the control panel. Three weeks he was going to have to endure this mission with B'Elanna. Three very long weeks. He still couldn't figure out why Janeway had paired the two of them. B'Elanna was more than capable of handling this with another crewmember, or with any person other than him. At least for the time being. Another time he wouldn't have minded being with his friend; he'd have actually enjoyed it. He missed the quiet moments, and the fun times they shared. They'd been allowing their friendship to flourish and follow its own path. But his being her commanding officer had dimmed their relationship.
This was truly going to be a test of his patience, bearing, and discipline. And he still wasn't sure if B'Elanna suspected anything.
"Hey, Torres to Chakotay!" she yelled at him.
He jumped, startled. //Spirits! When the hell did she sneak up on me?//
"What, are you off walking with the spirits again?" she questioned, thinking his behavior was a little off.
"I suppose so," he admitted.
She leaned over his chair, folding her arms over the back and leaning her chin on his shoulder. "Want to talk about it?"
Her Klingon musk fluttered under his nose, and her warm breath licked his ear. His tattoo quivered as his jaw clenched in response. //Woman, // he thought, //you need to go sit down.// Instead, he said, "No, there's nothing 'wrong.' Just mapping out how we're going to approach this."
"Oh, why don't we do it like normal? Go in, mine the dilithium, and get out? Make sense?" she suggested, waving her hand.
"Yeah, but I was thinking of contingency plans, really, the what ifs." He was sinking deeper in this failed attempt at convincing her why he was daydreaming.
She breathed out heavily. "Oh, like I'm buying this."
"I don't want to talk about it," he finally admitted.
"That was all you had to say. Those Botha had us all rattled, Chakotay." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I know you too well for you to try and pull something over on me. So don't try it again," she warned.
"I still don't want to talk about it," he insisted.
"Fine, you don't have to."
She plopped herself in the chair to his left, stared out the left viewport, and began to recall *her* dream. How he'd come up beside her and she'd been seduced by his velvet voice and tender touch. The nearness of his body, so close to hers, had assaulted her shields and she felt them give way. His warm big hands pulled her face toward his lips, and touched hers. A fire surged through her and all her desires and all her restraint collided, and she succumbed to his embrace. And somehow they managed to end up in her quarters, not breaking their embrace; he laid her on her bed....
Several hours later, on the planet's surface, Chakotay managed to safely land on flat terrain, surrounded by cliffs and abutments that provided a semicircle of rock wall around them. As they punched the appropriate buttons, the engines powered down and the rear hatch of a standard Starfleet shuttle opened.
They walked out and, with tricorders in hand, began assessing the area. B'Elanna focused to the left and Chakotay directed himself to the right. First order of business was to secure the area. Although initial scans implied no lifeforms, that was not always the case. On an M-class planet in the Delta Quadrant, anything was possible.
"Anything?" Chakotay asked, not looking up from his screen.
"No," she answered, doing the same. "Although my findings are that this planet is going to get hotter than Sto-Va-Kor. And the sun isn't at full zenith yet."
"Agreed." He tugged at his collar and tried pulling it away from his neck. "But I didn't need the tricorder to tell me that." He gave her a slight grin.
She whipped her head toward him and sneered, but nothing too threatening.
He shook his head and laughed a little. Maybe they'd be able to get through this after all, he hoped. After about a half-an-hour, and fanning the full compass with their scans, they concluded that all was secure.
Chakotay walked back into the shuttle and came back out with two canteens.
She turned and looked at him, wiping the sweat off her ridged brow. "Good idea."
"I thought so, " he acknowledged. "Ready for a walk?"
"Better start. That dilithium isn't going to mine itself. But we're just going to have to take our time. No sense in getting heat exhaustion."
"Or heat stroke," he added.
"Don't push your luck." She glowered at him.
Another smile danced on his lips. //Kahless, I wish he wouldn't do that,// she complained to herself.
He reached out a hand and pulled her up from the bolder she rested on. Oh, his sweaty hand clasping hers, that same hand -- that wonderful, graceful, and tender hand -- that in her dream had touched her bare flesh, gliding over her body, caressing, familiarizing itself with every curve. The pleasure it brought, the sensation of him touching her privately... She snapped her hand out of his, rubbed it dry on her hip, and sneered.
"Something wrong?" He was taken aback at her gesture.
"Just your sweaty palm."
"Oh." He shook his head and they started forth.
B'Elanna sidled next to him. Again tricorders out, set for scan. At every footfall dry earth crushed beneath their booted feet, while they kicked an occasional pebble or rock. The vegetation that grew up between the cracks in the rock's surface was dry and brittle, and turned to powder under them.
B'Elanna halted her gait, slipped the canteen off her shoulder and dropped it at her feet, then followed suit with the tricorder. She tugged at the tunic, yanked it over her head, and tied it at her waist. She then removed the turtleneck and tucked it over the now belt-like sleeve. Then she retrieved the canteen, slung it over her shoulder and picked up the scanning device. Looking at the screen, she returned to her mission.
Chakotay hung back a few paces to keep her in his sight, a protective measure that he'd adopted when they were in the Maquis. He knew she was capable of handling herself, but this was his way, to watch without perturbing her. The Spirits knew that getting on her wrong side would be a mistake. He watched her remove parts of her uniform. He would allow the breech in protocol because it was absurdly hot. And it was just the two of them. No harm would be done.
He watched as she began walking away, hypnotized by the woman in front of him. Her hips shifted in a rhythmic sway. His eyes moved up from there to her upper back, taut and muscular, normally hidden under her uniform. Then to the roundness of her tawny shoulders, and the strength of her arms. The sun radiated off her sweat-moistened skin, reflecting like glittering jewels.
His mind traveled back as he saw them huddled together, sharing a laugh, a sorrow, or the seriousness of the rebellion. He remembered how he would watch her sleep, when he had watch. The rise and fall of her breast, the unusual calm and peace that spread across her face. Then the Botha dream crept into his reverie. Her eyes were closed for a different reason, and the moans that escaped her lips as she rocked beneath him were pleasurable music to his ears. Her Klingon rage, transformed to poetic passion, energized his soul. To touch her, to hold her, to blend with her, was...
"Hey, I'd appreciate it if you stop venturing off to the land of Spirits and stay with the land of the living!" she yelled from a few feet in front of him.
Again she'd caught him off-guard. //Spirits, this is going to be torturous,// he admitted to himself. "Find anything?"
"Yeah, no thanks to you, Mister Daydreamer," she snapped. "There," and she pointed slightly to her right, "where the rock seems to split. Looks like a cave entrance. The readings suggest a large ore deposit behind that opening."
"Well, Pathfinder, lead on," he said, wiping his brow with his forearm.
"Pathfinder?" She looked at him.
"Name of a character in a book," he supplied.
Her response was a low throaty growl. She moved on.
Moments passed, and they were at the entrance. They pulled the brush and debris from the opening.
"So who goes first?" she asked.
He looked at her. "You found it. You might as well go first."
"Always the women first, huh?" she sneered. "I've done most of the work here while you're off somewhere else, and now you want me to go first. I'll --" She raised a clenched fist in his direction.
"Hey, hey! I'll go, then," he interrupted, trying to pacify her.
She stepped back to allow him access. As he pushed forward, he went in right shoulder first. Both the back and front of his torso brushed against hard rock, yet there was enough room for him to continue. She would have an easier time because of her smaller stature. The drag of the uniform against the rock tightened on his body. He cursed again, for this new trial. The rock wasn't abrasive or anything, but it put undue pressure on his most sensitive areas.
Finally, blessedly, the torture was about to stop. He passed through to the other side. B'Elanna pulled up beside him.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked her in awe.
"Yes, it is," she breathed.
It was a room before them, cool and partially roofed, with a skylight slightly off-center and to the left that provided access to the glittering sun rays that filtered through the uneven darkness. The rays caught hold and shimmered as they bounced off the ore deposits like gems. Chakotay turned to look at B'Elanna, and she turned to look at him. The light caught on their eyes as well, and danced like fireflies.
She was about to open her mouth and say something, when the floor suddenly gave way beneath them and she felt them slide with the soft dirt. He grabbed her elbow, and he landed with a soft thud. Soon after he felt her weight drop on top of him, and they were chest to chest, looking into each other's eyes....
To be continued...
