Author's note: Well, I think most of you have already figured out what this chapter's all about!

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Into the Wild Black Yonder

Chapter Thirty-seven - Forty-eight Hours of Bliss - part one

On the Enterprise

Mid January, 2259

Nyota and Spock

They headed directly for the turbolift. She reached out, pushed buttons. He looked at her. "That is not the floor our quarters are on."

"No, I have to pick up the laundry."

"Could you not do that tomorrow when you are not as tired?"

"I'm going nowhere tomorrow. Not anywhere at all!"

He considered that, nodded. Yes, he could definitely understand that.

"Now, you are going somewhere else. Off to the mess hall and pick up two days worth of food in carry-out containers. Stuff that will fit in your stasis unit if there's room, or that won't be harmed by sitting out. I'll take part of the laundry to my quarters and then meet you in yours. Okay?"

"This seems like an equitable plan. I do have room in my stasis unit. Do you have any preferences?"

"No, I'm too tired to even think about food. I'll leave it all up to you." She rose and kissed his cheek, then turned as the turbolift stopped and headed out the door and down the corridor. He punched more buttons and the turbolift began to move again.

Nyota

She waited while they found the two laundry bundles, lifted them both, arms definitely full, and headed back to the turbolift, on her way to her quarters. Once there, she put away most of her clothing and part of his, rebundling the remainder into one packet. Then off down the corridor to his quarters. She had most of the clothing put away before he got there.

Spock

He picked up a stack of carry-out containers and placed them on a tray. Down through the serving line, selecting items and filling containers with double portions. When he came to the large basket of mixed breads, he filled a whole container and then saw the blueberry muffins sitting on the side. Why those were here at suppertime he didn't know, but Nyota would be happy with them for breakfast. He put four in another container. He looked at the tray, there was not enough food. Out to the bank of replicators against the far wall, then. He selected a variety of fresh fruit, filling another large container. Then a smaller one of mixed cheeses. And another of salad. There, that should be enough. He carefully balanced the tray and headed back to the turbolift. When he got to his quarters, it took a minute to arrange everything so that he could tap the touchplate. He had no desire to spill anything. Once inside, he set the tray on the table and stowed most of the containers in the stasis unit. Then he went back to the door and entered his override code on the touchplate. No one would be coming in here until he was ready! Now to the com link. He shut it down completely, pulling the connection from the wallplate. He heard Nyota giggle behind him. He turned to see whether she needed help, but she was stuffing the empty laundry packet in the recycle slot.

They needed to eat. They needed a shower. They needed sex, lots and lots of sex. He wasn't entirely sure which they needed most. He did know that right this minute he had to touch her, to hold her. Without any form of interruption. He took three steps and pulled her into his arms. She wrapped herself around him, holding tight. She raised her face and turned it into the side of his neck and bit, hard. He jerked, instantly engorged. She bit again, he growled at her. She bit him again. His hands closed under her bottom, lifting her, and he took three more steps, pushing her back into the wall. She wound her legs around him, but he shifted his hold on her, grasping her thighs and pushing her up the wall until she was high enough that her legs were over his shoulders. He lunged forward, his head ducking under the hem of her skirt and ripped her panties from her body with his teeth. He moved his hands, pushing her thighs apart until she was spread open before him. He pushed his face into her, lips and tongue and teeth on her. A long, loud wail burst from her and she tried to push herself toward him, but she was caught, pinned between the wall and his hands and face, unable to move. She brought her hands up against the sides of his head, pressing his ears into his head, tangling her hands in his hair, and bowed her body over him, sobbing and moaning as she throbbed against his tongue.

He did not let her come down or even catch her breath, he just dragged her down the wall until she was at the right height. Then with one hand and one knee he supported her and dropped his other hand to fumble with the seals of his pants, almost ripping them in his haste. She was bucking against him, her hands pulling at him, wanting him, needing him, and he pushed against his pants, his briefs, finally freeing himself, immediately thrusting in, seating himself entirely within her in one thrust. He leaned forward, his forehead against hers, his hands under her bottom, and began a steady, fast rhythm, running full tilt toward his goal. She gasped at him, shaking, taking only a very, very short time to convulse around him, sending him roaring after her.

He leaned against her, against the wall, panting hard. She was almost totally limp, but her heels were still locked behind him, her boot heels digging into his back. She began to laugh, shaking in his arms. She rolled her face against his neck, kissing him between peals of laughter. He bent his face towards her, failing to see what the humor was.

She lifted her face to him, her eyes bright. "We did remember where we were, didn't we?"

His lips quirked up at the corners. "Yes, k'diwa. We most certainly did."

***

They stood in the hot, steamy shower stall, letting the water beat over them. She leaned back against him, his arms wrapped around her waist. It felt so good, just standing there, doing nothing. Eventually, she sighed and stretched and turned around in his embrace, nuzzling her face against his neck. "Are we wrinkled enough?"

He almost laughed at her. He was so tired still, his control was seriously eroded. He waved his hand under the showhead to shut the water off and slid the door open. She stepped out and picked up one of the towels, handing it to him, then took the other and wrapped herself in it, using one corner to fluff her hair. He dried himself and then turned to help her finish drying her hair. She was moving very slowly now, almost asleep on her feet, and she hadn't eaten anything yet. He had to get her to eat something before he let her sleep. He lifted her up and carried her back to the table, setting her down in the chair, while he went to the dresser and got her a long tee-shirt to sleep in. He pulled it over her head and took the towel back to the bathroom, hanging them both up to dry. Then back to the dresser to retrieve his tee and pants and back to the table to put fruit and bread and cheese in front of her. He didn't see any way that she was going to have the energy to eat anything more complicated than that. Nor did he.

They sat and nibbled, not even talking, but almost leaning on one another. When he was convinced that she had eaten enough, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, telling the computer to turn off the lights. By the time he had them both under the covers, she was already asleep. He curled himself around her and inhaled her wonderful scent once and closed his eyes and slept.

***

He drifted slowly awake, not his usual quick alertness. Still not recovered from the stressful week, then. She was still sleeping soundly. He lay there for some time, just enjoying the feel of her. It was not often that he had the chance to do so. His mind tried to divert him, insisting that there were things he needed to do, needed to discuss with her, needed to decide, but he pushed them all aside, stuffed them down and sat on them. This time would be for pure enjoyment, simple pleasure. Time enough later for other things. He bent his face, just enough to bury it against her hair, breathing her in. He let himself float, almost meditating, just being in the moment, thinking of nothing but her.

She stirred, moving against him, rousing his body. The heat of him against her bottom caused her to sigh and murmur, not awake yet, but aware of him, of his reaction. He moved his hands up her midriff, under her tee, stroked gently just under the curve of her breasts. She murmured, barely audible, not words, just appreciation. He rubbed himself against her bottom, beginning to ache for her. She moved again, pushing back into him. He let his hands slide further up, cupping her breasts, his fingers finding her nipples, rolling them, making them swell up. She raised her hand and found his ear, sliding her fingers up the outside edge until she found the pointed tip and squeezed it gently. He growled at her, bending his head until he could reach her ear, making it easier for her to reach his. He breathed softly into her ear, his tongue tracing its curve. She moaned again, pushing her bottom back against him, rolling her hips, putting pressure on him. She was undulating now, moaning continuously. He began to murmur quietly in her ear, repeating a poem they had read together what seemed so long ago, before he had ever even kissed her. As he spoke, her scent filled him, telling him how his words affected her. His voice thickened, heavy with desire. The hand which had been fondling his ear descended, down between her legs, searching for him, pushing at his pants, finding, bringing him out from between them to rub against that part of her that was so wet now, causing him to moan and growl at her, losing the thread of the poem. He was burning now, needing. Her hand moved on him, sliding up and down, rubbing the head of his lok against her opening. He thrust against her, seeking entry, sinking in. Her hand released him, moved down, found the back of his thigh and pulled him hard against her body, arching, crying out. He thrust again, again, again, feeling her contracting about him, heat building, glowing, flames along his nerve paths, expanding, ecstasy, Nyota. MINE.

***

They showered, slowly, enjoying the water, touching each other but too sated to do more. They sat at the table and ate breakfast - fruit, and muffins. They went back to the bed, curled up around one another again and lay there, talking. She snaked one hand under his tee-shirt and traced patterns on his skin, her fingers ruffling through the silky dark hair there. He had one hand on the thigh she had slung over his, fingers lightly clasping against her skin. Their link hummed with bright happiness.

They drifted back into sleep, then out again. Her stomach growled, making her laugh. This time they had a real meal, eating enough to feel full. She put some quiet, gentle music on the player. He lit the incense and they settled down on the floor pillows, not quite touching. She was half way through her relaxation exercise when he reached over and pulled her into his lap, settling her down with her head tucked under his chin, folding her legs over his, laying his hands on her thighs, sighing. She wiggled a bit, and began again, falling slowly down into contemplation.

***

She watched him moving things around, making an open space in the room. She had no idea what he was doing, but he seemed intent. When he was satisfied with the area he had created, he went to the music player and changed the disc. The measured beat of the drums began and a wide smile stretched across her face. She bounced off the couch and across the room, facing him, ready. "Spar." Only one word. Delighted, she began, flashing about him, using the power of her arms and legs, spinning, twisting, dodging, concentrating on his movements, trying to stay ahead of him. It was exhilarating. He watched her carefully, not wanting to injure her. Each time she managed to land a blow, he exulted. And when the music stopped, and they stood there panting, he advanced on her, standing so close he could feel the movements of her breathing and looked down at her, eyes so dark, so deep, so full of her. And she leaned her face into his neck and bit down hard and he shuddered so hard that he almost came right there.