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Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive .. |
Title: Dancing
Author: Nehal
Author's e-mail: [email protected]
Fandom: Enterprise
Pairing: Sato/other
Rating: R
Category: Het
Summary: None Given
Archived to Reed's Armory on 10/16/2003.
They sat hunched up against the bulkhead outside Engineering. Normally, not an incredibly private place, tonight it was deserted-
Well, almost.
But as they urged each other with halting promises and pleading kisses, they didn�t notice the figure that loomed silent in the shadows. They didn�t notice the sickly pallor of once bronzed skin; neither saw the tightly coiled fist that rested determinedly against a jutting hip. Neither felt the first outpourings of jealousy stifle the air around them; crackling, surging, a stream of electric green, it forced the very particles around them to shatter and merge-
An electromagnetic dance of the dead-
Yet both remained oblivious, and after a jaded couple of moments the figure walked away.
--+--
�Hi,� Hoshi whispered the moment they were alone in the turbo lift. She was smiling wider that she thought possible, her hands clammy as they sought refuge against the lapels of a uniform so similar yet different to her own. Lazily, she traced a finger against a sliver of milky skin between ear and jaw.
�Good morning, ensign,� Cold. Hard. Indifferent-
Well, almost.
Hoshi was well versed in the enigma that stood before her. She knew every inch, every breath; every subtle nuance-
The ticking of the jaw, the clenching and unclenching of the fist, the tapping of one foot against the other, the slight sparkle that had suddenly developed in a normally constrained gaze-
Smirking, she inched backward until her hand found the pause lever, and just as the lift reached their destination, she pulled. Within half a moment of the darkness descending across her vision, Hoshi felt herself swept up into a strong and fervid embrace.
--+--
They lay curled against each other inside the turbo lift. Normally, not an incredibly private place, a malfunction had ensured it deserted-
Well, almost.
But as they urged each other with desperate promises and near violent kisses, they didn�t notice the figure that loomed silent in the shadows above. They didn�t notice the sickly pallor of once bronzed skin; neither saw the tightly coiled fist that enveloped the crushed remains of a once viable plasma infuser. Neither felt the first outpourings of emotion stifle the air around them; crackling, surging, a stream of pure grief, it forced the very particles around them to shatter and merge-
An electromagnetic dance of the dead-
Yet both remained oblivious, and after a jaded couple of moments the figure hit the communications device that hung from a despondent breast-
�I think the repairs will take a hec of a lot longer than expected Captain. I�ve run into a few- difficulties.�
Static. Noise-
No one heard the Captain respond.
~the end~
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