Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Real Wild Child ( Chapter 33 )

 

A/N: Consider this a warning of a… lime? It ain't quite a lemon, that's for sure. But it's damn suggestive. So… You've been warned.

 

Real Wild Child

Well, I'm a real wild one; An' I like a wild fun; In a world gone crazy; Everything seems hazy; I'm a wild one; Ooh yeah I'm a wild one. Gotta break it loose; Gonna keep 'em movin' wild; Gonna keep a swingin' baby; I'm a real wild child - Josie and the Pussycats (Josie and the Pussycats OST)

Riker and Worf were headed to Ten Forward for a much-needed break and had a grand total of one half second's warning before the Klingon suffered a high-speed impact with a small, blonde projectile.

 

Edward Elric's first mistake was in not looking where he was going as he tried to elude the remarkably quick and nimble suit of armor pursuing him. His second was using his head to collide with Worf amidships.

 

Fortunately for the Klingon, it would take much more than that to cause any damage; and the worst he suffered was to be knocked slightly off course. The diminutive Alchemist was not nearly so lucky.

 

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Edward was given a painfully apt refresher on this most basic law of physics as his head slammed into the oh-so-solid mid-section of the Klingon and immediately saw stars without the benefit of a nearby port. He staggered and slammed the back of his head into the suit of armor that was trying desperately to backpedal out of the way. At that moment all the pretty stars Edward saw went supernova and his knees hit the deck.

 

“Ed!” Riker shouted.

 

“Nii-san!” Alphonse blurted.

 

Worf just growled and knelt in front of the boy.

 

Edward couldn't convince both eyes to stop whirling in opposite directions, so he squeezed one closed, and tried to focus on Worf with the other. With no luck on that score, he slammed that eye shut as well, and moaned. “Why's the ship spinning?”

 

Riker knelt down, and tilted Edward's chin up. “That doesn't sound good,” he said.

 

“We should get him to sickbay,” Worf said.

 

With that, Edward's eyes snapped open. “What?” he squeaked and scrambled back, only to be blocked by Al's legs. “No! I'm not going back to that place!”

 

“You did hit your head pretty hard, Brother.”

 

Edward jerked his head up, and he glared back at Al. “Traitor!”

 

He staggered to his feet, and jammed his fists into his hips. “I'm fine, dammit.” His glare followed Riker and Worf as they rose to their feet, and his equilibrium did a fine job of making a liar out of him. He wobbled, then tilted back into his brother's grasp.

 

Edward's misfortune continued as Beverly and Deanna arrived in time to hear Riker chuckle and say, “Nope, nothing wrong at all.”

 

Dr Crusher looked over the group curiously, her gaze settling on Edward last. “What did you do this time?” she asked him.

 

“Nothing!”

 

“He hit his head,” Riker said.

 

“Twice,” Alphonse volunteered, eliciting another dirty look from his brother.

 

“I'm fine,” Edward grumbled.

 

Beverly arched a brow and pulled her scanner out of her pocket. “I'll be the judge of that.” She waved the small sensor around the boy's head, and quickly put it away. “Yep. You're just fine. A little stunned is all.”

 

Edward gave her an odd look, and asked, “You carry that thing with you everywhere?”

 

Beverly smiled. “Only when we have guests on board who are determined to find creative ways to injure themselves.”

“Hey, I'm not—“

 

“I think we've got a case of too much energy,” Riker said. The look on his face was thoughtful, and only served to make Edward suspicious.

 

It didn't help matters when Worf suddenly had the same look. “Agreed. Perhaps the holodeck would be the appropriate place to expel some of it.”

 

Edward looked from one to the other, confusion knitting his brows. He became very wary when a cagy look crossed Riker's face, and a wicked grin followed. “Lieutenant Worf, you're not suggesting...?”

 

A low sound rumbled from deep within the Klingon as he nodded and smiled, showing a bit of fang. Riker's grin broadened at that. “That sounds like an excellent idea. In fact, I think I'll join you.”

 

Crusher shook her head and smiled. “I don't think I could give a better prescription, Lieutenant.” She cast a significant look down at Edward. “Especially for this patient.”

 

Edward looked from one person to another, growing considerably more confused as the conversation went on. He was also getting irritated. “Hey! You know, I'm right here. Think someone could tell me what you're getting me into?”

 

The small knot of adults continued to ignore him for the moment. “Well since it looks like you two have everything under control, I'm going to get some dinner,” Beverly said, and waved as she headed off.

 

Deanna gave Riker an amused look, and followed. “You boys remember to play nice,” she shot over her shoulder.

 

“I always play nice,” Riker said, feigning insult.

 

The only response he got to that was Deanna's light laugh as she kept going.

 

Edward watched with deepening suspicion and practically flinched when Riker turned his attention on him with a wolfish grin.

 

“Why do I get the feeling I'd be safer in Dr. Crusher's clutches?” the boy asked.

 

“I thought you liked to play rough, Ed,” Riker said.

 

Worf gave Edward a thoughtful look, then turned to Riker. “Perhaps this isn't a good idea, after all,” he said.

 

Riker looked like he was thinking about it a moment, then shook his head. “You might be right, Worf. He can eat gagh, but that doesn't mean he can handle one of your work-out programs.”

 

“Work-out programs?”

 

“It is also possible that his size would be a disadvantage,” Worf added.

 

At that moment, Edward Elric's world went red. He felt Al's large hands clutch him under his arms; and then he was lifted off the deck as he kicked and flailed. “I'M NOT SMALL, DAMMIT! YOU'RE A RACE OF GIGANTIC FREAKS! AL, PUT ME DOWN! I'M GUNNA SHOW HIM WHO'S SMALL!”

 

“Brother, that's not what he said,” Al said. “Calm down.”

 

Edward stopped fighting, but he was panting and grinding his teeth. “I am calm, Al. Put me down.”

 

Alphonse slowly lowered his brother back down on the deck. Edward glared at Worf. “Okay, Worf,” he said. “Show me this `work-out' program of yours.”

 

“You think you can handle it?” Riker asked, looking none-too-convinced.

 

Edward's eyes narrowed, and he gave him a tight, fangy grin. “I can take anything you throw at me,” he said.

 

Behind him, Alphonse just moaned, “Oh, no.”

 

“You heard him, Worf,” Riker said. “And I'll be your witness, if it comes to that.” He turned, and headed off. “I'll meet you at holodeck five in ten minutes.”

 

Worf looked from Al to Edward, then back. Then he jerked his head for them to follow him, and he headed in the opposite direction from Riker.

 

Edward followed in silence and stayed on a slow simmer; but Al matched the Klingon's stride and asked, “Lieutenant Worf, where is Commander Riker going?”

 

“The Commander is going to pick up his betleH.”

 

“Bat leth?” Al tried to pronounce.

 

Worf cast him a sideways glance and nodded. “Close,” he said. “It is difficult for the human tongue to pronounce it correctly.”

 

“Is it a Klingon weapon?” Al asked.

 

Worf nodded, and described the weapon and its history to Alphonse. Edward listened intently as he trailed behind them.

 

“Can I try it out?” Al asked after Worf had finished.

 

Worf considered that silently a moment, then said, “I will have the holodeck program one to suit your grip, if you wish.” He cast a glance over his shoulder at Edward and added, “There will be a variety of bladed weapons available to use. And they will be sized and balanced for the person using them.”

 

At Edward's tensed jaw and clenched fists, Worf's look became intense. “It does a warrior no good to have a weapon that doesn't fit him. That is the fastest way for him to be killed.”

 

The boy's seething suddenly lost all its steam, as his eyes went wide. He couldn't argue with that logic, no matter how badly he wanted to.

 

0o0o0

 

Riker not only picked his betleH up, but had stopped by Worf's quarters and grabbed his, as well. He recalled his reaction to the first time he saw one of the large, curved, two-handed blades; how impressed and more than a little intimidated he was by the weapon. So he was hardly surprised at the looks on the faces of two of their guests as the lift doors opened up on another deck. He had no doubt about what kind of image he gave.

 

“Colonel, Lieutenant Colonel,” he said as he nodded a greeting at Mustang and Hughes.

 

Both men's attention was on the deadly weapons in Riker's hands. “Commander Riker,” Mustang said, “are we under attack?”

 

Riker chuckled and said, “Quite the opposite, gentlemen.”

 

As the two men stepped into the lift and made sure to keep some distance between themselves and Riker, he held up the weapons. “It's called a betleH,” he said.

 

Mustang eyed the weapons with increasing interest, and raised a brow. “Let me guess. Klingon?”

 

Riker grinned and offered the smaller of the two blades for the Colonel to examine closer. “Good guess.”

 

Mustang hefted the weapon, and flipped it blade up. Hughes gave it a wary look, and tried to get a little more distance between himself and Mustang.

 

“Impressive,” Mustang said as he handed it back to Riker. “What little I've picked up, it seems like the Klingons are a very interesting people.”

 

Riker chuckled. “Worf isn't exactly representative of his race, Colonel.” At Mustang's questioning look he added, “In fact, he's downright cuddly compared to the average Klingon. And if you ever tell him I said that, I'll deny it to my last breath. Which would probably be about 2 minutes later.”

 

“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask what you're planning to do with those things?”

 

“A little work out on the holodeck,” Riker said. He leaned back against the wall and laughed low. “Worf thought it might be a good idea to help a couple of boys burn off some excess energy, before they get themselves into trouble.”

 

At Mustang's understanding grunt, Riker said, “Care to join us?”

 

Mustang looked thoughtful a moment, then smirked and nodded. He glanced over at Hughes and quirked a brow in question to him. Hughes raised his hands and shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I prefer to play with knives that won't turn around and bite me.”

 

“You don't know what you're missing, Maes,” Mustang said. “The holodeck is quite fascinating. You can literally get lost in the adventure.”

 

Hughes looked from the weapons back to Mustang. “I think I'll pass. I'm not sure I can handle make-believe that's that real.”

 

“I'm sure Worf will keep the safety protocols in place,” Riker said. “The worst the Elrics will get might be a few scrapes and bruises.” He nodded at the weapons in his hands. “I could go right for Fullmetal's throat with one of these, and it would never connect.”

 

Mustang gave Hughes a silent look. Riker could see he was trying to talk him into joining them, but Hughes gave him a slight, sad smile and shook his head. “You go ahead, Roy.”

 

“You sure?”

 

Hughes nodded. At that, the lift stopped and he got off. Riker was certain that there had been an entire conversation that had gone between the two men that had nothing to do with playing on the holodeck, but it was none of his business. For all the solid fronts they put up, this has to be incredibly difficult for them, he thought, as he gave Mustang a surreptitious glance. Riker considered that every one of their guests was either single or had those they cared about most with them, except for Hughes. Married, has a kid, and he's where he can't reach them. For him, this universe is Hell. And if Q decides not to send them back home, I don't think even Deanna will be able to pick up the pieces.

 

0o0o0

 

Spike awoke slowly; almost lazily. The barely conscious part of his mind registered that he was snuggled up to something that was soft, warm, and smelled really good. He also realized he'd probably slept better than he had in a long time, and figured that it was most likely due to whatever it was he was wrapped around. With that in mind, he decided to fight consciousness, because he was certain it was a dream and if he woke up there would only be a pillow there; and the delicious heat he was feeling down near his groin was just his bladder trying to get his attention. Not the body of—

 

His eyes snapped open as a sharp pain hit him in ribs, and the body squirmed against his grip. Full alertness swept over him, and he lurched away. “Faye? What the fuck?”

 

She flopped over onto her back, propped herself up on her elbows, and gave him a bleary-eyed glare. “Jeeze you're possessive when you sleep.”

 

“I am not,” he protested; not very convincingly.

 

She smirked, and narrowed her eyes with a cat-stalking-the-canary look. “You're a cuddler,” she accused.

 

Spike snorted and rubbed his eyes. “Hardly. I just wanted to make sure you stayed put. Remember?”

 

Her eyes traveled down his body and stopped where his pants had become quite a bit tighter than normal. She raised a brow and said, “Oh really?”

 

Spike felt heat of a different kind and grabbed a pillow. He shoved it down over his groin with more force that he should have. He gulped and barely managed to suppress the gasp that tried to escape. “Yes, really,” he croaked. “And you can stop staring. I have to pee, dammit.”

 

Faye smirked and brought her eyes back up to meet his.

 

“Jeeze, I'd think by now you knew that much about male anatomy,” he said. “Not every hard-on is about you, after all.”

 

“So does that mean some of them are?” she purred.

 

For some reason it reminded Spike not of a happy house-cat, but more like a tiger about to devour him. His mind was shouting; trying desperately to get his body's attention and remind it that he was most definitely not attracted to this woman. Unfortunately his body was ignoring him.

 

“You know what I mea—dammit!” he gasped as he felt her hand slip under the pillow, and rub at his cock. He attempted without success to shove his ass deeper into the mattress in an attempt to escape her groping.

 

“Faye, knock it off!” He snatched her hand from his crotch and attempted to shove her away, but in the tussle somehow ended up on top of her and between her legs. He pinned her hands to the bed above her head, and suddenly realized that he was much closer to her than he wanted to be. Once again, his body betrayed him, and refused to move.

 

Faye squirmed and bucked, trying to get free of his grip and causing fireworks to explode behind his eyes. She was saying something; he could hear the taunting in her voice, but he couldn't grasp it with the sudden roaring in his ears. He knew that if she didn't shut up soon, though, he was going to have to shut her up, but dammit! His hands were both busy keeping those claws away from vital body parts, and Oh, God was this woman running a fever? She was fucking burning up. And God why doesn't she just shut up!

 

“Faye,” he growled low, and he couldn't believe the husky sound of his own voice. “Will you just shut up,” he said as his lips met hers.