With damned little else to do, I DID read, and it turns out that Starfleet has some dandy databases to browse through. I started with Tellerites, looking specifically for cuisines, and found myself checking out Andorans, Vulcans, Denobulans and several other non-terran cultures on a whim. Not much was listed in terms of foods, but I did take notes on what WAS there and thought about setting up a xeno-cultural cooking file, figuring it would be handy to pull up recipes and information from one place.
Apparently the Vulcans had submitted a fair amount of information about their cuisines, with notes about how they evolved from a carnivorous diet to the current vegetarian one. One writer in particular—Kizas—had written up a fascinating little volume all about Vulcan beer, which they used primarily for a pesticide, but which was also occasionally served in ceremonies during the late planting season. I made a note to see if I could get some Vulcan beer, just for a taste.
In the footnotes, Kizas made reference to his botanical guide, and of course, I looked that up as well.
By the time I made my way to Sick Bay in the late afternoon to be checked by Phlox I was still bubbling over with delight about all I'd learned. "We need more plants," I told the doctor, who smiled indulgently at me as he unlatched the cast.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. We should start cuttings of Taxia wheat and icoberry and I'd love to see if we could actually grow a Bingaz bush," I enthused. "The desserts I could make with even a few Bingaz would be amazing."
"Bingaz, oh my yes, that would be a plus," he agreed. "Although they do need a lot of vertical space. You'd need a corner of the shuttle bay hangar to grow one. What brought on this sudden enthusiasm for gardening?"
So I told him about Kizas and my studies as Phlox flexed my arm and concentrated on my shoulder.
"I've studied some botany; mostly as it relates to toxins or predatory plants," Phlox told me. "You do realize that most of the plants you're discussing haven't all been checked yet against human digestion, right?"
"Gotta start somewhere. So?" This last was in reference to my arm, of course.
"Nearly healed," he told me. "I can release you for light duty if you're up to it, Chef. Nothing strenuous; if you need to lift anything, call for a crewman to do it."
"I promise," I beamed at him. "Just for that, I'm making you Denobulan sausage for dinner!"
He smiled—that really strange-looking pronounced Denobulan smile—so I knew I'd said the right thing. "Thank you, Chef."
-oo00oo-
Maalik looked up from grating parmesan, both relieved and worried to see me but I got busy with vegetable prep and announced, "I'm back—what did I miss?"
"Well, Crewman Halliday is trying to break up with Crewman Santos but they keep getting opposite shifts so it hasn't happened yet," Maalik reported. "Ensign Sato's oden was a huge hit and I've added it to the database. Oh, and there's a rumor that you and the captain hate each other."
"Ookay," I sighed. "How did that one get started?"
"Something about how you embarrassed him in front of the Shabotax, and now he's angry with you because of the garbage chute incident," Maalik responded, looking at me with amusement. "There are people saying you'll be grounded from the space station trip because of it."
I made a face. "If I am it will be because of my stupid arm and not because of any fight with the captain."
"Speaking of which, now IS your arm?"
"Light duty for another day," I sighed, dicing green peppers as efficiently as I could. "It's a lot better."
"Well don't push it," Maalik advised. "I don't want to go down to the space station by myself, you know."
"No?" I looked over at him.
Maalik lowered his voice and I noticed his face was red. "The beard," he told me. "Apparently they are a sign of virility, and are very appealing to Tellerite ladies."
Images of squat, porcine-faced women making passes at my somewhat shy sous made me laugh. "Really?"
"Yes," Maalik sighed. "And although I cannot help but be flattered, I will also find it very awkward, Fran."
I nodded sympathetically. I knew Maalik had once been engaged but it had fallen through when the girl broke it off. He told me his family was in the process of making new arrangements but I hadn't heard anything more since we'd boarded the ship and didn't feel comfortable in asking. "True. Well if you and Sath both ask for me and you let Phlox know why, I may be able to go. No promises."
His expression lightened. "Thank you," Maalik murmured. "Here's hoping, yes?"
"Yes. Pass me those onions, will you?"
-oo00oo-
I had a plan for the evening. Partially as a sort of experiment, and partially because my earlier boredom made me think up evil thoughts, so I had Maalik take Archer's dinner to the Captain's Mess (And that was certainly going to give the rumor more fuel, I thought) and I slipped away to my quarters, getting myself ready.
I turned out the lights, and left my door the tiniest bit ajar. Not enough to be noticed when passing by, but clear enough when you were next to it.
It wasn't precisely a trap . . . I considered it more of a lure. A way of controlling the setting as it were, and I didn't have long to wait. After a while, footsteps came down the hall and turned, approaching my door. I kept perfectly still up against the inside wall, breathing softly.
"Franny?" Archer sounded worried. I watched light coming in from the hallway flicker as he tried the 'com and then his fingers slipped around the door edge, pushing it open. Cautiously he stepped inside, and I tapped the button. The door wooshed shut, leaving us both in the dark, but I had the advantage of being oriented and he didn't.
I pounced.
Pressing myself against his back, I slid my arms around his waist and ground a little against Archer's ass, letting my hands press just under his navel. He flinched in reaction, trying to turn but I wouldn't let him.
"Franny . . ." Now he sounded confused, and I slithered around him until we were chest to chest. Before he could move, I grabbed his wrists and held them firmly against his sides.
"Shhhhh," I breathed into Archer's face, and then I nosed the front of his throat, finding the little pull tab for his uniform. Taking it in my teeth, I tugged it down, squatting as smoothly as I could, dragging it all the way to his groin. Since I still had a grip on his wrists I felt his tension all along his stomach. I blew a warm breath there, and mouthed my way along the front of his regulation boxers, thrilled at how quickly I was getting a reaction from his body.
"W-what are you doing?" Archer demanded, a little hoarsely, I noticed with glee. I pulled his hands behind his hips, squeezing to indicate that he was to keep them there, and brought my own back around to the front of his thighs, rubbing them through the fabric.
I didn't bother answering, making it more than evident what I was doing by touches and kisses alone. When I finally hooked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down, the heavy shaft of Archer's erection rose up, stroking along my cheek. I turned my face to kiss it.
"Uhhhnnnghhh," he groaned, hips rocking forward. Before he could say anything, I slipped my mouth over the blunt end of it, feeling aroused, smug and delighted all at the same time. As I moved to grip his hips, I opened my mouth wider and savored what I was doing.
Pretty basic, but I hadn't tasted Archer prior to this, and he'd been so very good to me in that department that I thought I was high time I reciprocated. From the guttural sounds he was making I must have been doing it right, which was fun to know, and when I swirled my tongue and caressed his thighs, he gasped.
I kept up a steady stroking rhythm, pulling his boxers down, letting them bunch along his shins along with the jumpsuit, doing my best not to choke because yes there was a LOT of him sliding in and out of my mouth by now. Our tempo increased, and I felt Archer shift his hands, bringing them to grip my shoulders but I kept my lips soft and over my teeth. When it became clear he was going to orgasm, I raked my nails over the cheeks of his ass and Archer growled, thrust after thrust nearly overwhelming me.
One of the nicer effects of Null was that it neutralized the bitter taste of semen and I can vouch first hand now that yes it's effective. I drank down what I'd been so lustily given and stayed still, letting the man shudder through the aftershocks and gradually catch his breath.
I rose up again, pressing lingering kisses along Archer's damp stomach until I reached the hollow over his collarbone. His arms were around me now, and by the shuffling of his feet I knew he was slipping out of his boots and clothing until we were both naked in the darkness.
"Bed," I told him, pulling him towards the bunk. Archer stretched out and cuddled me on top of him, the pair of us shifting to get comfortable. I was still aroused, but content too, feeling happy. He kissed my head, hands stroking my body in slow, sweet passes.
"That . . ." Archer finally rumbled, "God, I've never had anything like that before, Franny."
"You've never had a blow-" I began but he interrupted me, chuckling and I felt his chest move under my head.
"-That's not the part I meant," he corrected in an almost shy voice.
"Oh the pouncing," I murmured, pleased with myself. "That part."
"The pouncing," Archer agreed. "And the . . . uh, bossiness."
"Keeping your hands to yourself," I said, running a hand across his furry chest and letting my nail circle one of his nipples. "My cabin; my rules."
Archer shivered under me. "Oh that's how it is?"
"Yep," I told him. "We played by your rules in your cabin."
He seemed to consider that and gave a contented sigh. "Okay then." As an afterthought, Archer added, "How's your arm?"
"Good," I assured him. "Light duty today, back to full duty tomorrow."
He made an affirmative noise and I knew he was drifting off, so I snuggled against the curve of his arm and let myself sleep a little as well, feeling content.
I wasn't sure how long we were out—it couldn't have been too long—when I heard Archer speaking softly in the darkness. He probably thought I was still asleep, or maybe he knew I was awake but it didn't matter.
"Nobody's ever made me feel like this before," he murmured. "It's crazy. I'm nearly a decade older than you, Franny, and not exactly in a situation to offer you much in the next few years except uncertainty."
I shifted myself so I could look down into his face in the dim light, smiling a little. "I'll take it."
"I'm serious," Archer groused. "I could get killed on any given day-"
"Me too," I reminded him. "Jon, we're both in outer space with only a few centimeters of metal and pressure keeping us from death, yeah? All we have is whatever we can make of our days right now and frankly I'm not going to regret any of them. Maybe you are older than I am, but it doesn't bother me any." As I spoke I wriggled a bit; his body responded nicely to that.
"Franny-" he couldn't decide whether to scowl or laugh, but when his big hands came up to clutch my ass, I purred.
"My cabin, my rules," I reminded him. "Let me tell you something, Jonathan Archer. You are sweet and sexy and fun and worth every minute of exasperation. I'm happy. Get that? With you, I'm happy."
It was the right thing to say; he lifted his head to kiss me just as the alert went off.