Title: You'll Know
Author: Apocalypse
Fandom: ENT
Disclaimer: These characters belong not to me, though it grieves my heart greatly, but to Bermaga. Why? Because there is no justice.
Pairing: Mayweather/Sato (elements of Mayweather/Cutler and Tucker/Cutler)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The courtship of Travis and Hoshi.
Author's Note: Because there's just not enough of this pairing out there.
Chapter One: The Decontamination Chamber
Hoshi sat down on the bench in the decontamination chamber and started to work the gel into her calf. There had to be a more practical way of doing this, she thought. Something that didn't involve being mostly naked in front of some of the more attractive men on the ship would be favourite. Of course, Travis was in his underwear, too ... and that was pretty easy on the eyes ...
"Travis, I can get my back myself," Hoshi said, starting a little as her colleague's warm fingers started to massage decon gel into her shoulders.
"Yeah, but so can I, without having to do any embarrassing wriggling," Travis pointed out. He sounded amused, fingers a bare centimeter above her skin. "Want me to stop?"
Hoshi shook her head. "No," she said, "you just surprised me, that's all."
"I'm full of surprises," Travis said cheerfully, rubbing the gel into her back. "When I'm done here, you want to get mine?"
"Of course," Hoshi said.
Travis worked magic with his fingers. He could probably quit Starfleet and become a masseuse, if the urge struck him, Hoshi thought.
"Travis," said Hoshi suddenly.
"Mmmhm?"
"That had better be decon gel," she said.
Travis laughed. "That's not fair," he said. "What else would it be?"
"With you?" Hoshi snorted derisively. "It could be anything."
"It's the decon gel," Travis said, in a tone of wounded innocence. "I don't know why you'd think I'd manuever to get you into the decontamination chamber with me just so I could put Chef's vanilla pudding all over you. Or why you'd think Dr. Phlox would let me do such a thing."
"Vanilla pudding?" Hoshi stiffened. "Travis Mayweather, did you put vanilla pudding on me?"
"Now where would you get an idea like that?" Travis asked.
Hoshi swiveled on the bench to glare at him. He met her gaze, his expression utterly guileless save for the impish sparkle in his dark eyes.
"You did, didn't you!" she exclaimed. "You put vanilla pudding on me!"
"Did I?" Travis asked.
"Travis!"
"Well, I wouldn't recommend you taste it," he said, grinning at her in a flash of startling white. "I don't think it's supposed to be ingested."
"That's what vanilla pudding is *for*," Hoshi said, trying not to smile back.
Travis laughed again. "It's decon gel," he said. "Imagine, you thinking it was vanilla pudding. Just wait until I tell Liz about it, she'll split her sides."
Hoshi rolled her eyes. "I'm getting you for that," she said.
"How many things are you 'getting' me for now, Hosh?" Travis asked playfully. "I'd like to start keeping score."
Author: Apocalypse
Fandom: ENT
Disclaimer: These characters belong not to me, though it grieves my heart greatly, but to Bermaga. Why? Because there is no justice.
Pairing: Mayweather/Sato (elements of Mayweather/Cutler and Tucker/Cutler)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The courtship of Travis and Hoshi.
Author's Note: Because there's just not enough of this pairing out there.
Chapter One: The Decontamination Chamber
Hoshi sat down on the bench in the decontamination chamber and started to work the gel into her calf. There had to be a more practical way of doing this, she thought. Something that didn't involve being mostly naked in front of some of the more attractive men on the ship would be favourite. Of course, Travis was in his underwear, too ... and that was pretty easy on the eyes ...
"Travis, I can get my back myself," Hoshi said, starting a little as her colleague's warm fingers started to massage decon gel into her shoulders.
"Yeah, but so can I, without having to do any embarrassing wriggling," Travis pointed out. He sounded amused, fingers a bare centimeter above her skin. "Want me to stop?"
Hoshi shook her head. "No," she said, "you just surprised me, that's all."
"I'm full of surprises," Travis said cheerfully, rubbing the gel into her back. "When I'm done here, you want to get mine?"
"Of course," Hoshi said.
Travis worked magic with his fingers. He could probably quit Starfleet and become a masseuse, if the urge struck him, Hoshi thought.
"Travis," said Hoshi suddenly.
"Mmmhm?"
"That had better be decon gel," she said.
Travis laughed. "That's not fair," he said. "What else would it be?"
"With you?" Hoshi snorted derisively. "It could be anything."
"It's the decon gel," Travis said, in a tone of wounded innocence. "I don't know why you'd think I'd manuever to get you into the decontamination chamber with me just so I could put Chef's vanilla pudding all over you. Or why you'd think Dr. Phlox would let me do such a thing."
"Vanilla pudding?" Hoshi stiffened. "Travis Mayweather, did you put vanilla pudding on me?"
"Now where would you get an idea like that?" Travis asked.
Hoshi swiveled on the bench to glare at him. He met her gaze, his expression utterly guileless save for the impish sparkle in his dark eyes.
"You did, didn't you!" she exclaimed. "You put vanilla pudding on me!"
"Did I?" Travis asked.
"Travis!"
"Well, I wouldn't recommend you taste it," he said, grinning at her in a flash of startling white. "I don't think it's supposed to be ingested."
"That's what vanilla pudding is *for*," Hoshi said, trying not to smile back.
Travis laughed again. "It's decon gel," he said. "Imagine, you thinking it was vanilla pudding. Just wait until I tell Liz about it, she'll split her sides."
Hoshi rolled her eyes. "I'm getting you for that," she said.
"How many things are you 'getting' me for now, Hosh?" Travis asked playfully. "I'd like to start keeping score."
