Awkward Turbolift Music

By Swing-21

Summary: Gaila was sharing in a turbolift with Commander Spock. No turbolift ride had ever been as awkward as this one. Kirk/Spock, mentions of past Spock/Uhura, Gaila/everything that breathes.

Rating: PG-13 for Gaila just being there.

Disclaimer: Not mine, never mine.

Author's note: Can you say: stupid idea that got out of hand? I just wanted to write a drabble, and it transformed into this monster. But then, Gaila's just so much fun to write.

Author's note II: I did not check the Enterprise's configurations. I don't care if Sickbay is not where I say it is. And if there aren't as many decks as stated in this fic. It's supposed to be silly.

Gaila was going to kill Scotty. Slowly. With a Starfleet regulation spork. Like the ones she had to use since her Academy days. Oh yes, she'd take her sweet time with that. And she'd probably kill Jim too, for approving Scotty's new upgrades. But then, that would be a shame, because Jim was too awfully pretty to be gruesomely murdered with a spork. And a beast in the shack. Hm, maybe she'd just kidnap him, tie him to her bed and make him her sex slave, non fraternization rules be damned. The idea had merit.

'Computer, which deck are we NOW?' she growled.

'Deck seven,' answered smoothly the computer.

'That's IT!' she shrieked, then pressed the elevator's intercom. 'Montgomery Scott!'

'Yes lass?' answered her boss.

'Spork, Scotty,' she warned between her teeth.

'As tha eating ustensil?'

'As the object of your downfall, you crazy Scottsman.'

She would never be caught talking to her superior officer that way in public. But having sex with a guy in a Jefferies tube allowed a girl certain privileges.

'Ah'll be sure not to approach you in tha mess, lassie.'

'Be sure of that,' she snapped, before cutting the connection.

She knew it was no use asking him how long the repairs would take. Their last mission had been hard on the Enterprise, and Gaila loved the old girl as anyone else on board. She didn't mind pulling double or triple shifts when came the time to repair her wounds. But then, Scotty had to take this as the chance to make a few upgrades he'd been planning for weeks. And he pleaded with the captain, cajoled him with efficiency numbers and argued that a slow cargo mission was the perfect moment to try it. And the Captain, with a crush on the Enterprise as big as the Alpha Quadrant, had apposed his signature on the doomed data PADD from hell.

'Computer, what about now?'

'Deck seven and a half.'

She was pretty sure the computer had developed a sense of humor, and it was probably Scotty's fault, also. Or maybe Chekov's. But then, the kid was too sweet for death by spork. And too young for anything else, really. If she hadn't sworn to Nyota AND the Captain that she'd leave the "wirgin" alone, he'd already be a man. She sighed. Maybe she'll drop hints to Sulu, the kid did seem to be infatuated with him.

'Computer?'

'Deck Eight.'

Scotty's plans needed a lot of energy. A LOT. All non essential systems had suffered an enormous reduction in power. Like the turbolifts. It took them FOREVER to reach a destination. And sadly, Gaila had to travel from the pits of engineering to deck forty-two, where her quarters were situated. She'd just finished a double shift, she was tired, her hair was grimy, and she'd have to take a cold shower without the luxury of dry blowing her hair afterwards. Did Scotty even stop to think of the consequences of cutting power? Did he think that hair grew into such sensual curls naturally? Now she was simply going to frizz and it'd be horrible and Nyota would laugh at her because she was evil like that, but then she was so sexy when she laughed and her smile was beautiful so she'd let it go.

'This is getting boring,' she whined out loud. 'D'you have any music, computer?'

'Affirmative.'

'Can you actually play some without using too much power?'

'The power used would be inferior to .00001% of the ship's capacity.'

'Alright. Play something Orion, then.'

'Specify.'

'A love ballad. I haven't heard those in a while.'

The first notes of an soft song filled the silence of the turbolift. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. No matter how she ranted at both the computer and Scotty, it wouldn't get her faster to her quarters. Now that she was done with those two sources of entertainment, she started to pray that someone else would climb in with her so she could have at least someone to talk to. Or maybe try something more to pass the time. Hm, but she was still dirty and grimy, but maybe-

The turbolift stopped and her first instinct was to replace her breasts and her hair and take a sexy-but-natural pose. She hoped it was someone cute. Maybe it'd be Nyota so they could talk, or Jim and they'd flirt as always, or Doctor McCoy who was always so funny when he tried so hard not to stare at her rack, or maybe cute Ensign Riley who was just begging to be throw on a turbolift floor and be taught the sweeter things of life…

The doors opened and her heart sank all the way back down to Engineering.

Commander Spock stepped in and let the doors close behind him. She immediately stood to attention.

'Good evening, Lieutenant,' he greeted with a nod.

'Commander,' she acknowledged with all the professionalism of a Starfleet formation.

'Bridge,' indicated the First Officer.

Darn, she swore to herself. Of all the sexy creatures of the Enterprise, and the crew was composed of 67% of sexy people, it had to be one of the hottest but most unreachable ever. Gaila was used to get whoever she wanted, but she wasn't crazy.

First, it was always a bad idea to hit on one's superior officer. Jim was an exception, of course. She'd had Jim in more compromising places and positions than he'd ever acknowledge, and that was way before he'd ever got his Captain's stripes. Or maybe two days prior. But then, she hadn't tried anything besides flirting ever since, and flirting was their usual method of communication. Also, Scotty didn't count either. A man that knew how to use a Jefferies tube in zero-g was worthy of all exceptions.

Second, it was Commander Spock. A Vulcan. Part of the most repressed, hands-where-I-can-see-them, hypocritical species of the galaxy. There was just no way she was ever trying that, ever. Even if she'd seen that particular Vulcan naked.

But then, it went in hand with number three, which was that she would never do that to Nyota. Sure, the lovebirds had broken up a while ago and that meant that both were pretty much fair game, but there were some rules to befriending a human woman and Gaila had studied them well after Nyota had offered her friendship. One of those rules was to never hit on a friend's ex-boyfriend. Another was to never mention to anyone else the time she'd surprised them having sex in their dorms. On Gaila's bed. Which was sad, because that was the hottest thing in the history of ever, and she wasn't allowed to talk about it. She hadn't even been allowed to watch or join, and that wasn't for lack of trying.

And fourth reason, was, well, that Vulcan belonged to Jim. Even if Jim didn't knew it yet. But an Orion understood about possession and ownership. Most of her people were slaves, after all.

Still, it was sad that she couldn't even get a taste before he got snatched away by another of her friends. If she believed what she'd heard from Nyota and what she'd seen in her rooms, the Vulcan was a beast in bed-

'Lieutenant,' interrupted Spock.

'Yes Commander?'

'Would it be possible for you to refrain thinking about stimulating subjects while we partake the same turbolift?'

'…What? Are you reading my thoughts, Sir?' she asked with a bit of nervousness.

'Not precisely. But my shields are low and I feel the excitation reach unnerving peaks in your mind. Also, I think your pheromone suppressants may need a stronger dose.'

'Oh, sorry about that. It has been a long day and I hadn't thought I'd be down in Engineering for that long. The effects must be diminishing. I hope it's not too much trouble, Sir. I can leave if you want.'

'That will not be necessary, Lieutenant. But you are right, this day has been a long one. I, personally, am in need of meditation time to strengthen my shields.'

'Alright, I'll try not to think about anything too, huh, interesting,' she smiled.

But then, that was the equivalent of saying "don't look down!". Because as soon as she said those words, the only image crossing her mind was-

Don't think about him naked. Don't think about him naked having sex with Nyota on your bed. Don't think about his back or his hips thrusting or Nyota's screams-

'Lieutenant.'

'I'm sorry! I'll try harder! But it's difficult when… you know…' she made a vague motion with her hands, which roughly translated to "when I have clear memories of you and my best friend naked and sweaty doing the horizontal tango on my Starfleet regulation sheets, where I had been having sex with Jim not two hours prior". She wasn't sure the Commander would get it.

But then he threw her a hard look, and she realized he got it. She smiled sheepishly.

'Sorry Commander. I'll be nice.'

Spock nodded and stood straighter, staring holes at the doors in front of him. Gaila gathered her composure and did her best not to think about anything remotely interesting. Like sex. Yeah, she couldn't think about sex. With anyone. But mostly, she couldn't think about sex with Mister Spock, which was such a shame because he was right there, and visual aid was wonderful when building a fantasy, not that any fantasy of hers remained a fantasy for long. But then this one had to, she had no choice, she wouldn't be able to press him against the wall and-

The Commander shifted and threw her a sideway glance.

Okay, okay, she told herself. Bad Gaila. Think about something else. Anything. Like Engineering. She liked her job and it was one of the only subjects that could keep her mind away from sex for long. But then, she'd had a long and rough day, actually a long and rough week, and she was sick of upgrades and work and Scotty. She didn't WANT to think about work. All she wanted was to go back to her room, take a shower, go grab a bite at the mess and maybe a hot Ensign or yeoman to keep her entertained. Like Rand. Hm, that one looked like she'd be fun in bed, if she ever let her hair down, literally and metaphorically. And if she'd stopped mooning over the Captain. Sad things, human women were. They didn't understand a thing about ownership.

'Computer, state our position,' asked Spock in a tense voice.

'Deck ten.'

Oh, she hadn't been aware that a part of her mind had started entertaining the vivid images of Rand with her hair down and little else, had added Jim to the equation, and was busy trying to find new configurations and ways to convince them it could totally work.

'Commander, I'm so, so sorry…' she started.

'There is no need to be,' he said without turning to look at her. 'We both are tired and weakened. You are not responsible for the lowered level of my control nor the turbolift slow pace. I am the one who should apologize. It was unnecessary and disrespectful to ask you to contain your thoughts.'

'Still, I should be able to think of other things than sex,' she shrugged. 'You do it well enough.'

'Illogical. I am Vulcan, therefore I have practice on controlling my mind. And you are Orion, which means that thoughts of a libidinous nature are innate to your species. It would be shameful to try and change your very nature.'

She threw him a sincere smile, with almost no hint of seduction in it. Almost. He nodded in acknowledgement.

'We still have a lot of floors to go,' she noted, twirling a lock of hair around a finger. 'I'm sure I won't be able to stop thinking about sex for so long. Even more if I'm stuck with-'

She shut her mouth before she could say anything more embarrassing. Spock lifted an eyebrow, but she had no idea what it meant. Jim would be able to guess. Jim always knew how to read the Commander, like one of his beloved paper books he used to read to her after sex.

'What I mean is that I'll need help with this not-thinking-about-sex thing, or I'm pretty sure I'll manage to make this turbolift ride so awkward you'll end up wanting to throw me out an air lock.'

'I doubt any amount of awkwardness would ever prompt me to such a gesture, Lieutenant.'

'If you won't do it, I'd probably do it myself,' she joked nervously.

A moment passed, where the Commander turned his head around and watched her closely. Damn, if he didn't want her to think about sex he shouldn't be staring at her with those gorgeous eyes. She wondered if his expression ever wavered, and how he looked in the throes of passion. She wondered if Nyota would tell her. Or maybe Jim, he had been strangled by the Vulcan after all and she'd seen the video footage and damn, that was hot-

'This is an interesting song,' said abruptly the Commander. 'Is it of Orion origin?'

Gaila realized that the music had kept playing slowly and that the song had changed to another one. She smiled.

'Yes. The title roughly translates to "Let me help".'

'Interesting title. Is it linked to the works of Erudite Horri-emm?'

'Why, yes!' she beamed. 'I didn't know you read Orion literature, Mister Spock.'

'The works of the Erudite are deep and their prose is meaningful. They bring great insight on Orion culture.'

'And here I thought everyone considered him the exception,' she rolled her eyes.

'You are referring to the academic debate that would allow his works to be classified in a category of their own?'

'You mean "dissociated from Orion culture and History",' she muttered between her teeth. 'We get one great writer in centuries and all those Federation Academics want to do is to steal him from us. Just because they don't think a culture based on sex and slavery might know a thing about love.'

'I had not heard the counter arguments,' assessed Spock. 'It is truly intriguing.'

'Just so you know, we do know about love,' she repeated with a little bit of heat. 'We might not be strong on family and friendship, but love… yeah.'

She crossed her arms and stared stubbornly at the doors. She tried to stop her thoughts from going back to Jim, but that was useless, as always. She had loved him, she'd gone and completely fell in love with him, and of course he'd broken her heart because that was poetic justice, since she'd never had any remorse doing it to dozens of guys and girls before him. But Jim was different. He'd always been.

'I grieve with thee,' slowly muttered Spock besides her.

'What?' she asked, snapping her head around.

'I can feel your sorrow,' he admitted without looking at her. 'There are waves of sadness emanating from you. I do not pretend to understand your pain, but I can commiserate.'

'…Thank you. I guess.'

This was rich. Here she was, getting in an emotional fit over Jim when she swore she wouldn't do it anymore, and the one guy that would end up with everything she'd ever wished for was commiserating with her. She bit her lower lip.

'I sense anger,' he frowned. 'Did I say something offensive?'

'No, Commander,' she said, lowering her head. 'At all. It's… complicated.'

And she tried to hold it in. She really tried. But it was late, she was tired, the computer was still playing "Let me help" which was the most heartbreakingly beautiful song ever, the Commander was standing there almost reading her thoughts, and… And she was fed of it all. She missed Jim, she still loved him, and if Erudite Horri-Emm was even close to the truth, helping was the greatest proof of love there was. So she'd help. But on her terms.

She abruptly turned around and stared at the Commander.

'You should really, really tell him,' she said firmly with a nod for emphasis.

'I fail to comprehend to what you are referring, Lieutenant.'

'The Captain. You should so totally tell him.'

'Lieutenant…' warned Spock.

'There's no need to be afraid! I know Jim, even if he wasn't already crazy about you, he would never abandon your friendship over something like this! So you have to put an end to my misery and go confess or something! Seeing you both pinning over each other is distracting enough, but with the amount of pheromones… Permission to speak freely, Commander?'

'It is a little bit late for this,' said Spock with a cold voice.

'If you don't do something about it, I'll have to report you both to Starfleet for sexual harassment.'

'I beg your pardon?'

He looked incredulous. Murderous and incredulous, without losing an inch of that Vulcan control. Gaila was impressed, but didn't show it. She crossed her arms, in that way that slightly lifted her breasts and brought them to attention.

'Yes, Commander. You know I have to take pheromone suppressants to work for Starfleet. Well, those work to a certain extent. I am able to perceive pheromones around me, and if they are strong enough, they do affect my own control. Both you and the Captain have been emitting some serious pheromones around each other due to severe unresolved sexual tension. Thus, creating a stressing work ambiance for me, since I have to exert even more control on myself or augment the dose of suppressants I take every morning.'

The Commander was completely still. Gaila was sure he was that close of getting back on his word and she'd end up thrown through an air lock. But she was fed up with this and couldn't spend another day around those two.

'Also,' she continued, 'the negative work environment doesn't apply to only me. If I lose control over my pheromones, it affects the crew around me and distracts them from their work, and then they come and distract me even more, and… yeah.'

Spock stayed silent for so long that they had time to climb three whole decks before he answered. And then it wasn't even an answer, only a clipped:

'…I see.'

'I'm sorry if it's embarrassing for you, Commander, but I figured that it couldn't be worse than the time I caught you and Nyota on my bed,' she shrugged.

'You are right. It is not worse.'

They were between two floors so she couldn't abruptly stop the turbolift and escape her own stupidity. But then, there was the emergency hatch on the ceiling…

'Your reasoning is logical,' he finally said. 'I did not take into consideration that Orions were as sensitive to pheromones as Vulcans are to thoughts.'

'That means you're finally going to confess?' she smiled.

'Lieutenant, I doubt that this topic of conversation is appropriate-'

'Commander, I tell it as I see it. Or smell it. Whatever. I can sense this thing, between you and the Captain. I see it like you see your numbers. And it clearly states "back off, mine!" to anyone who can sense it. Just ask Ensign D'morry, the other Orion girl, down in communications. Or Keenser, though he usually keeps away from both of you for that same reason. Even Scotty's pet tribble senses it, why do you think it refuses to coo at you both? It knows you two belong to someone already!'

'I sincerely doubt Mister Scott's tribble has enough of a mind to form an opinion on the matter, Lieutenant.'

She shrugged, let the matter lie. A moment of tense awkwardness passed between them. The song changed.

'Computer, which deck?' asked Spock.

'Deck fifteen.'

'Curse Scotty and his overenthusiastic upgrades,' she muttered between her teeth.

'Indeed.'

Another long moment. They listened to the whole song, and it changed once again. Gaila shifted her weight.

'Are you going to throw me out of an air lock?' she finally asked. 'Because I'd understand. I'd do it too, if I were you.'

'There is no need to reach such measures,' said the Commander with a calculated voice.

'…But? There is a but, right?'

'I would be appreciative if you would refrain from approaching such personal subjects outside this turbolift.'

It was Gaila's turn to lift an eyebrow. She understood the hidden meaning, the permission she'd been granted. She smiled sheepishly (and sexily of course, but it couldn't be helped).

'I just want to see Jim out of his suffering,' she admitted in a small voice. 'He has been pinning after you for a while, Sir.'

'I was under the impression that there was a preexisting relationship between you and the Captain.'

'There was, a long time ago,' she shrugged. 'It's over and done. We flirt a lot, but I think we wouldn't know how to communicate without it. I also care a lot about him. Enough to be wanting to help.'

He looked at her for a long moment, pensive. Then, a simple nod. Acknowledgement.

And, at that precise moment, the turbolift stopped. They both turned around, surprised to see the doors open on bridge twenty. Sickbay.

The Captain walked in and offered them a radiant smile.

'Spock! Gaila! What a pleasant surprise!'

'Captain,' nodded Spock, letting nothing show through.

'Jim!' squealed nervously Gaila. 'I mean, Captain! Hi!'

She was tired, sore, grimy, and the last thing she wanted was to be caught for a prolonged period of time in a cramped space with her Captain and her Commander. The pheromones would kill her. No matter the amount of control she could find in herself, she knew she'd end up initiating a threesome before they'd reach Deck thirty.

She did the only sensible thing. She flew.

'Glad to see you Captain, but this is my floor!' she said while walking past him, trying really hard to ignore the pheromone surge.

'Oh, you need to see Bones? Are you feeling alright?' asked the Captain, instantly worried.
'Nah, just need another prescription of suppressants,' she threw him a flirty smile. 'Can't have all the boys distracted, now can I?'

'Gaila, you'll always be distracting, no matter the amount of drugs in your system,' he winked.

'That, Sir, would be harassment,' she winked back. And waved at both him and the Commander, before scampering away.

The doors closed behind her, to her relief and annoyance. She'd have to wait for the next one before even dreaming of reaching her quarters. She sighed. Hm, maybe she could ask Doctor McCoy if she could use the Sickbay's showers. And maybe ask him to join her, too. Now that would be an idea.

She never learned what exactly transpired in the turbolift, if anything happened at all there. Maybe they talked about chess and astrophysics and Orion music, since it was still playing when she got off. Maybe Commander Spock finally confessed and they had wild turbolift sex. She preferred the latter, to be honest.

But something had changed, because after that day, it was not as difficult to be around them both. Oh, they did emanate a lot of distracting pheromones, but it was more subdued and sated than the whirlwind of possessiveness and frustration she'd felt before. Their new status, whatever it was, was invisible to all except her. And Ensign D'Morry. And Keenser. And Scotty's pet tribble, no matter what Mister Spock said about it.

Gaila liked to think that she'd had a hand in getting that smile on Jim's face and that spark in his eyes. She liked to think that she was able to help.

Maybe Mister Spock also thought it, because one day, coming back from her job tired, grimy and bitter, she found a package waiting on her desk. A smile split her face when she discovered the printed works of Erudite Horri-Emm, leather bound and all. That evening, instead of going Ensign hunting at the mess, she got comfortable between her Starfleet regulation sheets and spend hours reading it.

(Naked. Because she was Gaila, after all.)