Star Trek - Series Fan Fiction ❯ NAOMI’S 1ST HALLOWEEN orTHE CAPTAIN’S TRICK & CHAKOTAY’S TREAT ❯ Chapter 2
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Holodeck 2 was filled with crewmembers in much racer costumes than they had worn for Naomi’s G rated party in the Mess Hall. Gone were the long dressed, modest necklines and invisible make up. In its place, hem lines shot up, décolletage came down and the makeup was applied with a towel. They had until 2330 to dance, drink, and carouse. Tom had changed too. Superman was put away for another day, and Indiana Jones had taken his place. Harry was a 20’s gangster and Sam was his mole, with ¾ of the ship security team as his ‘gang’ complete with tommy guns. Joe Carey was Dick Tracy and would periodically chase one of Harry’s gang around the room, trying to arrest them.
Tom was getting concerned when, after an hour, B’Elanna, the captain, Chakotay, and the Delaney sisters were no-where to be found. He was about to ask the computer if they were even still on the ship, when a stir at the doors caught his attention, and he was riveted.
Chakotay had just walked in, wearing a black tux, surrounded by the missing women, who were all dressed to the nines. Tom gaped at B’Elanna who was clad in a slinky red dress with a slit up to her hip. The Delaney twins were mirror images in black and white, Meg in white with a demure décolletage and diamonds, while Jenny was daring in black, the bodice of her dress two horizontal ‘V’s’ that met over her hips and fell to the floor in a long train. The skirt in the front barely skimmed her knees. Tom took all this in in a second, and then quickly bounded over like an eager puppy.
“Indiana Jones, at your service ma’am,” he kissed B'Elanna's gloved hand. She slipped her fingers away and looked up at Chakotay.
“James,” she purred, with a thick Russian accent, "do you know this man?”
Tom looked confused. “James?” He asked, frowning at Chakotay.
“Bond,” Chakotay supplied. “James. . . Bond.” He waited two beats while his words sank into Tom’s brain, and then moved past the gaping, half laughing helmsman.
James and the Bond Girls–Tom wondered how long the captain had had such great legs–first stopped at the bar, then made their way to the blackjack table. The crew was mesmerized, and suddenly, all the men wanted to dance. Chakotay took his turn, dancing with each of his ‘girls,’ though his set with the captain, who was a vision in green satin and sapphires–had the whole room holding their breath. The sexual tension between them was thick enough to slice.
By 030, everyone was off the holodeck. Gamma shift, used to being up late, went on duty and Chakotay escorted all the Bond girls home. Tom was waiting to pounce B’Elanna the second she hit her door, and the others had similar welcomes from their current mates as well. Except one.
He and Kathryn took a leisurely stroll around the ship; her shoes in her hand and his jacket off and tie lose. They looked at all the decorations and talked about the parties and how well everything had gone. Finally, they arrived at their doors, and each was reluctant to say goodnight and end the evening.
“I had a lot of fun,” Kathryn finally said and the silence went on too long. “And you played the sexist spy very well.”
He grinned. “Well, the ladies really love the mystery, not the man.” She rolled her eyes at the cheesy line and glanced at her door.
“Oh?” She had a decision to make and 5 seconds in which to make it. She reached out and took his hand pulling him closer. Before he could react, she pulled his head down and kissed him.
In a flash, they were inside her doorway. Chakotay was drowning in her scent, but forced himself to pull away before she lost total control.
“Kathryn, my sweet, beautiful Kathryn.” He kissed her again, on her nose, her neck, her lips.
“As . . .much . . .as it pains me . . . to do this . . .” he pulled away. “We can’t.”
She looked up at him, eyes heavy with lust. “Please, just for tonight–”
“And what about tomorrow,” he asked, stepping back. “And the day after that? I don’t think I could ever be satisfied with just one night with you.”
“Please,” she hated the whiney, pleading sound in her voice. “Don’t leave me with a lifetime of what-if’s.”
Chakotay searched her face for a moment. “Just promise me one thing–after tonight, you won’t shut me out. Give me a chance to win you properly.”
She smiled and put her arms around his neck. “You already did.”
***
THE END
Holodeck 2 was filled with crewmembers in much racer costumes than they had worn for Naomi’s G rated party in the Mess Hall. Gone were the long dressed, modest necklines and invisible make up. In its place, hem lines shot up, décolletage came down and the makeup was applied with a towel. They had until 2330 to dance, drink, and carouse. Tom had changed too. Superman was put away for another day, and Indiana Jones had taken his place. Harry was a 20’s gangster and Sam was his mole, with ¾ of the ship security team as his ‘gang’ complete with tommy guns. Joe Carey was Dick Tracy and would periodically chase one of Harry’s gang around the room, trying to arrest them.
Tom was getting concerned when, after an hour, B’Elanna, the captain, Chakotay, and the Delaney sisters were no-where to be found. He was about to ask the computer if they were even still on the ship, when a stir at the doors caught his attention, and he was riveted.
Chakotay had just walked in, wearing a black tux, surrounded by the missing women, who were all dressed to the nines. Tom gaped at B’Elanna who was clad in a slinky red dress with a slit up to her hip. The Delaney twins were mirror images in black and white, Meg in white with a demure décolletage and diamonds, while Jenny was daring in black, the bodice of her dress two horizontal ‘V’s’ that met over her hips and fell to the floor in a long train. The skirt in the front barely skimmed her knees. Tom took all this in in a second, and then quickly bounded over like an eager puppy.
“Indiana Jones, at your service ma’am,” he kissed B'Elanna's gloved hand. She slipped her fingers away and looked up at Chakotay.
“James,” she purred, with a thick Russian accent, "do you know this man?”
Tom looked confused. “James?” He asked, frowning at Chakotay.
“Bond,” Chakotay supplied. “James. . . Bond.” He waited two beats while his words sank into Tom’s brain, and then moved past the gaping, half laughing helmsman.
James and the Bond Girls–Tom wondered how long the captain had had such great legs–first stopped at the bar, then made their way to the blackjack table. The crew was mesmerized, and suddenly, all the men wanted to dance. Chakotay took his turn, dancing with each of his ‘girls,’ though his set with the captain, who was a vision in green satin and sapphires–had the whole room holding their breath. The sexual tension between them was thick enough to slice.
By 030, everyone was off the holodeck. Gamma shift, used to being up late, went on duty and Chakotay escorted all the Bond girls home. Tom was waiting to pounce B’Elanna the second she hit her door, and the others had similar welcomes from their current mates as well. Except one.
He and Kathryn took a leisurely stroll around the ship; her shoes in her hand and his jacket off and tie lose. They looked at all the decorations and talked about the parties and how well everything had gone. Finally, they arrived at their doors, and each was reluctant to say goodnight and end the evening.
“I had a lot of fun,” Kathryn finally said and the silence went on too long. “And you played the sexist spy very well.”
He grinned. “Well, the ladies really love the mystery, not the man.” She rolled her eyes at the cheesy line and glanced at her door.
“Oh?” She had a decision to make and 5 seconds in which to make it. She reached out and took his hand pulling him closer. Before he could react, she pulled his head down and kissed him.
In a flash, they were inside her doorway. Chakotay was drowning in her scent, but forced himself to pull away before she lost total control.
“Kathryn, my sweet, beautiful Kathryn.” He kissed her again, on her nose, her neck, her lips.
“As . . .much . . .as it pains me . . . to do this . . .” he pulled away. “We can’t.”
She looked up at him, eyes heavy with lust. “Please, just for tonight–”
“And what about tomorrow,” he asked, stepping back. “And the day after that? I don’t think I could ever be satisfied with just one night with you.”
“Please,” she hated the whiney, pleading sound in her voice. “Don’t leave me with a lifetime of what-if’s.”
Chakotay searched her face for a moment. “Just promise me one thing–after tonight, you won’t shut me out. Give me a chance to win you properly.”
She smiled and put her arms around his neck. “You already did.”
***
THE END