OK, I'll be honest with you all, I've been working on this for over a month. I'll apologize for its length, but not for the AU idea. It's been in my head for quite awhile. Enjoy!
Warnings: Sex. Sex with aliens. Violence. This is NOT porn-without-plot. I'll warn you one more time: there will be sex involved in this story. If you can't handle it, please do not read it. (Cross-posted over on AO3 if you would prefer to read the original format. I didn't want to post here until I had it almost completed.) Thank you!
Chapter 1: Interruptions
"Captain, there is a call coming through." Maria informed him as she looked down at the e-book she carried. Maria stopped and studied the tall man for a moment, noting his laid-back posture and the fact that his chair was tipped back onto two legs. Just for a moment she allowed herself to enjoy the sight of her commanding officer's long legs clad in tight black trousers and knee-high black boots. His sapphire blue uniform shirt was only buttoned up about half way, giving a peek of a well-muscled chest. He wore no mark of rank whatsoever. She knew from experience that he preferred to carry his insignia pinned to a card in his pocket; sort of a throwback to the twenty-first century. No one, however, could hide the tattoos they all wore on their shoulder blades.
As always, it appeared to her that he had been simply daydreaming, with his arms crossed with hands behind his head, an e-cig held in-between the long fingers on one of them. She turned away quickly as he took one last drag then stubbed out the long electronic cigarette in a little black container on his desk. He let the old-fashioned wooden chair slam back onto all fours before replacing his booted feet with both hands on the top of the desk and standing up.
"Thank you, Maria." He nods sharply in her general direction and steps across the threshold of the door behind her as it slides open with a puff of air. The long, dimly-lit corridor is flanked by multiple doors identical to the one that leads to his office. Maria was already out of sight. He strides down the long corridor, sturdy boot heels making hollow clicks on the shiny tiles.
As always, the men and women in the control room stand and snap to attention when he enters. As the door slides shut behind him he casually speaks an "at ease" and his crew immediately returns to their tasks. The captain steps across the room towards one of the kiosks that line the walls. A rather short, broad figure with hands flying over the flat desk top (what appears to be nothing at first glance is actually a flat keyboard built into the table-top) grunts an almost-incoherent greeting and immediately presses one of the hidden buttons. Just as quickly, a screen begins sliding up from deep inside the desk. The screen flickers to life and a red-haired man appears on it; a well-dressed man in a high-ranking military uniform. His hunter green shirt is buttoned clear up his chest and throat, making him look quite stuffy; even through the screen and a distance of several-thousand light years. For an instant the captain considers just walking away and not even wasting his time with this drivel.
"Admiral." This particular captain holds nothing for the formalities of military rank, especially with this particular person. He barely glances at the screen before pulling a shorter e-cig out of his trouser pocket and touching the tip with his finger. It glows red and the face on the screen glares at him, though he does move his mouth into less of sneer. For an instant there's a look akin to nostalgia, but it's gone as quickly as it appears. No one else notices it, not that they would anyway.
"Really, Captain? Have you no sense of propriety?" The Admiral asks in a half-snarling, half-smiling voice.
"You called me, remember, Admiral?" The captain is already quite irritated with this conversation. He starts to turn away from the screen, but the admiral finally begins offering up information like he was giving a Yuletide gift. An unspoken I beg your pardon hangs in the air between screen and man.
"Captain, I called you because we think someone is attempting to sabotage the Time Gate." The captain stops walking but does not turn back to the screen. On what planetoid was this even his problem? He partially hears the rest of the statement before turning back to the screen.
"Wait." The Admiral falls silent as his brown eyes track the captain's movement across the floor of his ship. The Captain holds a hand in the air, the universal sign for quiet. No one moves. The tall man seems to be thinking over the predicament somewhere deep in his mind. He drops his hand and glares at the com-screen, silently willing it to catch fire. "Admiral, you know I work best alone. I do not work with a partner." He spits the words with venom over his shoulder towards the man on the screen.
"Not this time, Captain." The Admiral's face and voice are already beginning to dim as the screen powers down. The captain hears his next words clearly, however. "This time even you need help. Your partner will arrive at fifteen hundred hours." With that, the screen goes black and the captain's face goes red. Crew members scattered around the room looked quickly at each other and then away. They are all very loyal to their captain and had seen him through some rough scrapes, but not a single soul would dare speak up now. They all know from experience that this has nothing to do with them. The captain, for all of his attitude, truly believes that what has been heard here today will not be repeated. He trusts them that much.
"I'll be in my quarters." He huffs. His shiny boots catch the ceiling lights as he storms across the room. The e-cig between his fingers had gone out without his noticing. He slams it back into his pocket as the door to the lift slides open. He moves into the lift and slouches against the back wall, one leg bent at the knee, foot flat against the metal wall. A surly teenager in a military uniform. The machine purrs upward through the decks of the ship and towards his quarters. It is just after twelve-hundred hours now. He would not sleep, but at least he could come up with twenty five or fifty ways to convince this partner that he worked much better alone, regardless of what the damn Admiral thinks.
o-o-o-o-o-o
14:00
The captain is stretched fully out on his bunk, arms and legs flung as far across the mattress as they will go. He has alternately stared out the windows (nothing but space, space, and more space) and the ceiling (dull grey) but none of his ideas were panning out. In the five years since he had made Captain, he had worked with several crews but never a partner. In fact, the mere idea was just…repugnant. Ridiculous. He had his brain; that was enough of a partner for him. He was not interested in inter-personal relationships and he did treat his crew well enough. They respected him but did not fear him. They worked well with each other and even with him on those occasions when he called upon them.
Maria Manosa had been with him almost from the beginning. They had started out as equals but then he rose up the ranks much faster than one his age should have. Typically, one started out as a soldier and then spent his or her lifetime working their way up the ladder. Not him, though. He was twenty-five when he gained Captain. He quirked his mouth into a smirk and thought to himself that sometimes having certain connections worked in his favor rather than against it as so often was the case. That thought annoyed him just a little. Some days he wanted praise for his own abilities, not for his connections. He needs something else. The captain closes his eyes.
Ah, the case. Anyone with half a brain could see that the Interplanetary Alliance was in over their heads. From the day they had deemed the Time Gate safe for use there had been problems surrounding it. First there was the issue of the Travelers coming through and being so disoriented that they died en masse. It was horrific and, in his opinion at least, could have been avoided by training the security crews just a bit more. Secondly there were issues surrounding whether the Time Gate actually worked the way it was programmed to: several of the original pioneers had wound up way off (way out of time) from their intended targets. Three of them had never been found. One of them had been found but several pieces of him had been left throughout several time periods. He was now in a semi-secure Psyche hospital and probably would remain there until he passed.
Another problem had been simply security surrounding the Gate itself. It was such a new science that it really should not have been opened up for just anyone to try, like some sort of old-fashioned amusement-park ride. Of course, cold hard cash would always talk louder than common sense. People naturally assumed that it was harmless since it had been deemed safe by the I.A. Techs, but in truth, the thing was unstable and incredibly powerful. It was more like a lift than a Gate. "Gate" implied that one could simply open and close it at will, as well as have the ability to choose a target destination. Nothing was farther from the truth.
The captain runs his fingers through his wavy hair, causing some of the curls to come loose from their carefully manipulated coif. He is so tired of constantly having to worry about formalities. He is ready to take his ship out and do some exploring, just to blow off steam more than anything else. The Neo-Tethys was supposed to have been a science vessel but the closest he had come to exploring anything had been learning about his newly-chosen and assigned crew. He would tolerate nothing less than beings that were at least half-way intelligent and could think on their own when necessary.
For a moment, the captain rubbed one hand on the front of his tight trousers. He considered perhaps pulling one off but even that would not hold his interest long enough and he would have to change. He sighed and dropped his hand back to his side. No sense in making too big of an impression on someone who hopefully wouldn't stay around too long.
Boring. It was all getting dull. And boring. The captain huffs and rolls over onto his belly. He smashes his face against the silver pillows and sighs dramatically, an action that serves to further liberate the curls on his head. Maybe that's why the Admiral had thrown this tidbit at him, to give him something else to think about besides boredom for a while.
Ha. That's doubtful. He probably just cannot handle the situation. Why bother getting your hands dirty when someone else can do all the work?
All those light years away and the Admiral still gets under his skin. He flips over to his back again and makes a mental note when the time projector flips numbers across the wall.. He sits up on the mattress and startsto button up his shirt. His fingers stop moving almost before they start. Why the hell would it even matter anyway? No one in their right mind would ever consent to being his partner, not one-on-one, no way...and that included the Burskins.
He would show the Admiral and then he could be out chasing the stars and not investigating foolish projects designed by idiots for the sole purpose of fleecing the interplanetary public. He runs his hands through his hair one more time, further forcing it into chaos. He does, however, pull his boots back on. No sense in seeming to be a complete barbarian. Maybe he could just intimidate this person and be done with it, then everything could get back to normal.
Chapter 2: Who is that man?
The captain was not a patient man. Maria thought as she listened at his door just before the clock warned twenty minutes out from the Partner's arrival. Maria was already considering the word capitalized, though she had no idea what purpose it served. His impatience would never allow him to train nor learn from a partner. She could hear him tossing and turning on his bunk through the absolute silence of the room. She had only been in there once and only occasionally had a desire to return. A relationship between them would never work, however. What the captain craved she could not give him.
Sure, she gave him her body and it was good and hot, and really really mind blowing. She would never do it with him again. The captain was a force all his own on a good day, but aroused? He was like a pillar of flame. He would let you get so close to him and then completely close off. That was not the kind of relationship she yearned for; she needed more than just an occasional piece of ass. Even such a nice-looking one as her captain had been blessed with.
He had taken her to the brink so many times that she was almost blind, deaf and dumb by the time the act had finally completed. Amazingly, he had been a patient and considerate lover in some ways, but demanding and selfish in others, which seemed more his style. Maria felt instinctively that she would never share anything like that with another person, ever, but the pleasure was in no way worth the cost of losing herself completely. He would have been her drug, her utopia. She would have given up everything in the second that the best orgasm in her life had crashed over her (twice.) Once the flames cooled, however, there was nothing left but the taste of ashes in her mouth and dried sweat on her back.
She left him that night and never looked back. They never spoke of it and she allowed any romantic feelings she had for him die quietly. Sure, there were times when she was weak, just like earlier today. Hell, he is gorgeous. Just because you don't want to eat the forbidden fruit does not mean you cannot admire it when it is right there in your face!
She had wondered in quiet moments about what might have been, but she understood very well that his needs, his desires; his wants would have completely consumed her. She was much too driven for that, too focused on her own career. She wanted to be with someone who had room in their heart for her, but cared enough to let her live her own life. The gorgeous captain? Well, that was not him.
She knew that he had never taken another lover, whether human or any other, since herself. They had known each other for many years and she had always admired him, but always from a distance. Much like now. Maria heard movement beyond the door and moved silently down the corridor. No use in being caught eves-dropping on the captain. She did enjoy her job, after all.
o-o-o-o-o-o
John's first impression of the control room is one of utter confusion. From his reading, he expected rows of kiosks and com-screens. He expected military neatness and precision. What greeted him, however, were kiosk-lined walls, complete with com-screens that apparently slid down into the kiosks for safe-keeping. The place is a hive of activity. Male and female beings (as well as a few humans) tap non-existent keyboards or speak into well-hidden earpieces. The room is filled to the brim with a din of noise and purpose. A rather exotic woman enters from the lift on the other side carrying an e-book in her hand. She crosses the room to speak with a rather squat looking alien of a species John cannot identify. He thinks the name starts with a B, but cannot remember exactly at this moment.
After a moment, the woman nods her head and the alien turns back to his workstation. John watches her walk away and admires the view, though he does not allow his thoughts to show on his face. No one has even noticed him. Not a single being in this room has even turned their head nor gave any indication that they heard the lift doors swish open. Not one. John stands and simply observes the comings and goings of the crew. He appears relaxed, leaning against the wall next to the lift, his old duffel bag at his feet. He crosses his arms over his chest and simply waits to be noticed.
Within minutes, the chime for the primary lift sounds, alerting the crew that its coming down from the upper decks. John is amazed at the way the entire room simply changes. At once, the sounds of the crew talking, working and some even laughing with each other simply vanish. Somehow they even manage to silence fingers tapping on invisible keys.
To say that John was astonished would not even begin to cover it.
The doors to the lift part and the captain walks into the room, his bearing regal and head up high. The crew snaps to attention but he brings them back to normal with the wave of a hand. The din in room goes back to normal, albeit at half-volume from before. The captain turns his head as he scans the room, seeming to take in every crew member. John assumes that they are used to such scrutiny, as it does not stop anything that they are doing. Then the captain turns his gaze towards John.
John's first reaction to the captain is to click his heels and salute, but it's quickly overshadowed by his second reaction, which is to fall on his knees at the feet of this Adonis and worship him. However, this is also quickly banished by his third reaction which is one of complete surprise. The captain is tall and lean, and other than his regulation boots and uniform, has nothing military about his bearing. His blue shirt is unbuttoned almost half-way down and not tucked into his tight black trousers. It's slightly rumpled and he wears neither belt nor any insignia. If John did not know that he was stepping aboard an Interplanetary Alliance vessel, nothing about the leader of the vessel would have given it away. The tall man's raven hair is an Einsteinian curly, crazy mess. It looks as if it had been neatly styled at one point but then left to go completely astray as if the captain had no care in the universe. John really wanted to touch it. He calmly fought down the urge.
Even with all of that, though, John would have been alright. The other three seconds he had remaining of the ten seconds it took him to size up the man in front of him were used up when the Captain's eyes fall on his own. They are sea green glass marbles piercing through a suit of armor John had not even been aware that he was wearing. Somehow, John shakes it all off and dioesn't quite click his heels together, but he does elect to snap a clean salute at the regal man.
"Captain Holmes, sir." The strength in John's voice is a cover for the way he is really feeling. Somehow, he gets the impression that the Captain knew this. It's a bit unnerving.
Captain Holmes accepts the salute with grace but then waves his hand in the air towards John just as he had done his crew less than a minute before. Time seemed to be moving at a more normal rate now and John could actually breathe. He is suddenly re-aware of the crew and the low buzz of noise around them. It's as if he and the captain were in their own little bubble for a short time.
"The Admiral has assigned you to this vessel, I.A.N. Neo-Tethys, as an assistant to me. You have been ordered to report to me for the purpose of investigating sabotage as pertaining to the Time Gate. Yes?" The captain's words are clipped and pour from his lips very fast. As he speaks, his eyes never leave John's face.
"Aye, sir. But partner, not assistant." John replies, not backing down from the staring contest or eye-fuck or whatever it happens to be. He is not intimidated in the least. He had stared down bigger and badder than some egotistical captain in his thirty-six years, including winged aliens the size of Victorian houses.
Captain Holmes narrows his eyes at the shorter man. He takes in the olive-drab cotton T-shirt, old leather jacket and black denim trousers at a glance. John's eyes are blue and his hair had been flaxen when he was younger but was now a mix of darker brown, blonde and grey hairs. The only new thing he is wearing are I.A. regulation black boots, and since they are worn under his trousers, the good captain can only hypothesize on their length. That leads his thoughts elsewhere and he scans this new person's body quickly, returning his gaze again to John's face. This guy has guts, at least. Not one single member of his crew would dare to correct his word usage in that manner. Not if they wanted to keep their jobs on his ship that is.
The captain stares down at his new partner for a few more seconds before dismissing him with a wave of a long-fingered hand. "You may go. You are to report to my office at eighteen hundred for a briefing. That is all."
He turns his back on John and makes to step into the lift. The door swishes open but before it can close, John has picked up his duffel and tosses it into the lift, narrowly missing the captain's shiny toes. The captain is three parts impressed but one part annoyed by the obvious power play. He angrily pushes the button on the wall and the door slides open to admit a rather aggravatingly happy-looking John. Captain Holmes glares at him until the lift stops on the ninth deck and John gets out, duffel on his shoulder. He turns back toward the captain to utter some sort of thanks, but the lift is already on its way up to the next deck.
John turnes away from the lift deck and goes to search for his room. He really can't help that the word "Asshole" slips from his muttering lips as he counts doors.
o-o-o-o-o-o
What the captain and John missed as they struggled for power was the absolute silence of the crew and the control room. As soon as their captain had started to speak to John, the din in the room grew quieter. Naturally, they all wanted to know about this man who had been appointed by the Admiral to their ship. Most unusual that he was human.
When John quietly but respectfully corrected the captain, the room went as still and as quiet as a morgue. By the time John tossed his duffel bag into the lift, every being in the room was staring in John's direction with their mouths gaping; some of them even had tentacles or tongues hanging out.
When the lift doors finally closed and the machine started on its upward path, only four words were spoken by anyone in the crew. It was Jared, the youngest helmsman who spoke for everyone as he pulled his eyes away from the lift and back to the rest of the crew:
"Who is that man?"