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Doldrums

Summary:

In the middle of a challenging mission the senior staff have a prescription for their overworked, tense, stressed Captain.

Work Text:

By the end of the first week, Amin began calling this area of space ‘The Doldrums’ and the name stuck. Technically it is a stellar nursery within a cloud of gas so dense it blocks any light from the few stars that are forming from the remnants of a giant supernovae. Enterprise is four weeks into a three-month mission to map a quadrant of this nebula. The uninterrupted darkness is already fraying the crew’s nerves. Cross words, arguments, and, according to the rumor mill, several fist fights have broken out among the normally calm and composed crew.

And like the equatorial region of the Atlantic Ocean feared by ancient mariners which inspired the term doldrum, the becalmed space unpredictably gives way to mostly undetectable eddies, currents and storms that bounce the ship around. Those episodes and the composition of the gas cloud is eroding the ship and its equipment.

Aalin sunk into a chair at a table in the mess hall on the command deck, grateful the room was empty and quiet. The peaceful interlude was over five minutes later when the Chief Engineer entered and walked over to the intercom. She didn’t hear his call to Sickbay. “I found her, pass the word.”

Soon the ship’s most senior officers, along with Spock who is Number One’s constant shadow, were gathered around Aalin’s table with the door to the mess hall closed and locked. After enduring several silent minutes of their intently focused stares she asked in order to break the tension, “Is this the part where I profess I am not a witch?” Before Spock could inquire she added, “Reference Salem, Massachusetts, United States of America, witch trials, late 17th century.”

Spock looked perplexed. “Why would you allude to such a situation?”

“Gathered around the table like this, you all look like an inquisition conclave.” Aalin replied with a wary expression.

Spock turned to Una and she mouthed “Later.” Before anyone else could speak the klaxon sounded yellow alert, “All hands, prepare for a disturbance.” Which was Nicola speak for ‘the ship is about to bounce around like a ping pong ball in a tournament.’ Using the table as an anchor until the gravity generators compensated for the steep pitch and roll the group rode out the corkscrew motion and subsequent shuddering. Louvier dampened the flames that were sparked at a nearby replicator with an extinguisher. He nodded to Boyce, “We should step this up, I need to get back to Engineering.”

Aalin sighed. “I think I know why you are here …”

“I doubt it,” Enterprise’s security chief muttered to himself.

“The Captain is …” Una began.

“Working too much. So is most of the crew, he’s not going to slow down until everyone can slow down.” Aalin answered the question she expected.

“That is not …” Una looked to the CMO who then gestured to Louvier who asked, “Did you know the Captain formally reprimanded Ensign Young?”

“Got a thirty-minute lecture this morning about having to evacuate Engineering and cold start the warp engines due to his mistake,” Aalin replied.

“Do you think the punishment is an overreaction?” Boyce asked next.

Aalin shot him a knowing look. She never commented on Chris’ command decisions, not even to the ship’s command staff who were also good friends.

Louvier cut in, “The Ensign’s mistake was egregious, but it’s not the reprimand so much as the way the Captain delivered it. He was curt and dismissive rather than stern and instructive. Not his typical style.”

Una said, “And he’s jumpy and tense.”

“Everyone’s a little frazzled by this endless bumpy night,” Aalin pointed out.

“Yes, but Chris usually doesn’t let the crew see that he is weary,” Boyce replied.

“The Captain nearly threw a punch of his own when that fight broke out in the science lab,” the security chief said. He pointed to Aalin, “And he was visibly angry with you, in public, over a personal matter.”

“That has never happened before.” Una reminded the group.

“You appear to be dancing around something,” Aalin remarked feeling and sounding tired.

“Ah yes …” Louvier started.

“It’s a delicate …” The security chief cut in.

“They intend to inquire when you and Captain Pike last mated.” Spock suddenly interjected, confused as to why these officers were avoiding the subject. All eyes turned to the young Vulcan. “Why are you glaring at me Dr. Boyce? That is what all you were discussing last night, at length.”

“As busy as Chris is, surely you schedule time for something that important,” Boyce lectured in his CMO tone of voice.

Aalin’s mouth twitched. Oh, Chris would not find this conversation amusing, she thought. “In the unpredictable life of a starship captain scheduling sex isn’t possible, it’s more catch as you can.”

“Catch soon; the Captain needs and deserves a good rogering.” Una declared drawing amused expressions from the others at the table and ending the conversation. “What?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, baffled by their reaction.

Boyce repeated “rogering” in a quiet voice, shaking his head.

Spock was quick to explain, “Perhaps they are unfamiliar with that specific present participle. It is an archaic British slang for sex. Typically intense sex. Usually it is a comment made by a male regarding a female he wishes to penetrate. However it can also refer to alternative sexual acts performed by the female on the male. Does the Captain …”

Aalin’s checks were now red. “Ah, ok, thank you … I get the reference.” As the others filed out of the room, she chuckled thinking, I use to get linguistic assignments from my superiors.

ooooo

Christopher Pike tiredly rubbed the back of his neck as he entered his quarters around 2:00am. There was just enough time to catch a quick nap and clean-up before checking-in with the delta shift. He was seriously considering aborting this mission, a first for him. Most civilians thought of space as mono-colored ebon but in reality, it was a mixture of dark greys, deep purples, navy and midnight blues, maroons, and blacks punctuated with bursts of light across an infinite spectrum. True twenty-four by seven darkness was proving stressful and unnerving for the bulk of his crew, a crew that had survived and thrived in countless unique and dangerous situations.

His eye found Aalin curled up on the sofa, asleep, shivering slightly because, as usual, her blanket had been pushed into the floor. The ship’s temperature was down five degrees to conserve power. Chris noticed she was wearing the lace gown he liked, the one where the ribbons binding the lace together didn’t provide any strategic cover leaving nothing to the imagination.

He sat on the coffee table opposite the sofa and gently touched her shoulder. She blinked sleepily, “Sorry, I meant to be awake when you got here.”

He kissed her temple. “No matter. You should be in bed; you have an early shift.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Point taken.” He held out his hand. “Come.” After settling her in bed, Chris quickly changed into sleep pants and shirt and joined her. Aalin sighed and she wondered when she and Chris finally had leave together if he would feel freer to come to bed in significantly less clothing. But on the ship you never knew what call or visitor might come in the middle of the night.

He noticed the small tray of supplies by the bed and raised an eyebrow. “I had a whole thing planned; I miss you,” she answered his unspoken question with a quick kiss. Chris, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, brushed the lace on her abdomen and said, “I remember the first time you wore this.”

Aalin blushed slightly as she smiled, “Hmmm. That’s the night I learned pilots unerringly calculate the perfect angle of entry and amount of thrust.” She hitched up the gown and climbed into his lap, straddling him, her arms wound around his neck. This time she ran her tongue around his lower lip as she kissed him then kneaded the back of his neck while sucking the tip of his tongue, using just a slight pressure, like a tease. As she sucked, she lightly rubbed his groin.

Chris groaned and started to shake his head. “Not enough time.”

She wanted to move him quickly past objections. He was an attentive and thoughtful lover. One that was uncomfortable when she didn’t reach at least one climax. But biology was biology, and she required more preparation. And even then, when she was tired or stressed, it simply wasn’t going to happen for her despite his skill. Aalin had finally convinced Chris those times were no less pleasurable for her, that the caresses, the kisses, feeling him inside her, filling her, was enough, was good. Was more than good. And that it turned her on to see him get lost in his own pleasure.

Moving closer she increased the rhythm and pressure on his groin and cajoled his tongue into her mouth by playfully dancing hers around his. Keeping one hand on her back, he moved the other to thumb her nipple through the lace. Chris ran his hand up and down her spine; she arched her back and sat up, lifting slightly. He groaned again when she settled back into his lap, grinding into it with her hips and pelvis.

Their kisses became deeper and more demanding before they separated, breathless.

Smiling at him, Aalin untied the pants and freed his erection, cradling it between them. She leaned in, nibbling his ear, neck, shoulder, and nipples as she ringed her fingers around the base of his penis. With the other hand she delicately brushed her fingertips back and forth over the more sensitive tip. Chris inhaled sharply and held his breath.

She dropped her head and took the tip of his rock hard and throbbing erection into her mouth. Chris inhaled again, deeply and slowly, moaning as he caressed the back of her head and neck. Sensing he was about to take charge, she lifted her head and reached for the tray on the bedside table. After rubbing her hands together so the lube was warmed, she stroked a generous amount of it on his penis, working from the base to the tip, one, two, three times before rolling it side to side in between her palms while he whispered encouragement and endearments in her ear.

In one swift movement Chris flipped Aalin on her back, pushed up the hem of the gown and stroked her as he inched his hips slightly higher than hers. He slid in slowly mindful she had little stimulation though he was only a minute or two from his own climax. He started to pull back and slide in again, but she shook her head and held him tightly reveling in the feeling of him buried within her.

Aware he was close to his own orgasm; she shifted her hips slightly to better accommodate deep penetration; she smiled when his body shuddered. He plunged in again and again and again. Each time his erection stroked her most sensitive spots. She cooed, “Oh my God,” as she got closer and closer to a potential climax. Chris took several breaths in order to slow his response as he quickly coaxed Aalin to her own release by varying the speed and depth of his thrusts and adjusting their angle as he kissed and stroked her breasts.

With exquisite timing they came together, arms wrapped around the other, panting into each other’s shoulders then laughing as they came down. Chris started to move away. “Stay,” Aalin urged. He rolled them both on their sides, facing one another, foreheads touching as they entangled arms and legs.

Sated and content in the others’ arms, they both drifted to sleep.

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