A/N: Here it is, the continuing adventures of Duncan and Shiv! Yeah, this is set during "Bound", you know, the episode with all the green chick in bikinis. I own Shiv and Duncan, Cragen, Saxena, and Yates' first name. But if you want to borrow any of them, just let me know, so I can read your stuff too. I like to share, especially Shivvy and Dunky. Phlox, MACOs, Reed, Enterprise, and the green chicks belong to Paramount. I wish I owned all of them. Except for the green chicks. And maybe Phlox.

…

"Bound" and Determined, or If Yoda Were a Woman

…

"So the Captain and His Royal Phase-Pistol-Up-The-Highness get back from their little mission yet?" Ensign Duncan O'Rourke asked his fellow ensign Shiv Patil, wiping his mouth on a napkin. Patil looked over his lunch and nodded. "But I heard from Hoshi Sato that they took their sweet time. Apparently the Orians were very accommodating."

"Accommodating how?"

"She didn't say. Probably fed them better food than what they eat here, so the Captain and Lieutenant begged the Orian leader to hold them hostage for a few days."

O'Rourke's eyes twinkled. "Maybe that explains why Reed is always the last one back from away missions."

"Doesn't explain why he always ends up in Sickbay, though."

"Indigestion."

Shiv groaned. "You're a real card, you know that? A Joker."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know-ho-ley crap."

"What? What?"

O'Rourke pointed over Patil's shoulder. The shorter man turned his head, and dropped his jaw.

"What are they?" Patil murmured. O'Rourke didn't blink. "They're…they're…green."

His friend nodded. "And very, very….green."

Crewman Yates from the next table over tapped O'Rourke on the shoulder. "Don't even think about it, Dunker," she warned her friend. "They're 'gifts' to the Captain from the Orians. Apparently slavery is a common practice with them. They still think they belong to the Captain." She turned away, massaging her temples. Patil tore his eyes away from those spectacular green goddesses and said, concerned, "You all right, Sophie?"

Yates nodded. "Just…a tension headache. I've been stressing a bit more this past week than I thought, apparently."

Her tablemate thunked her drink down on the table and scowled. "I've got a headache too, but I'm fairly sure it's not caused by stress so much as this…disruption to our routine."

Patil raised an eyebrow. "Funny, Elle," he said. 'I never thought of you as the jealous type."

Eleanor Cragen flashed the man a very rude gesture with one hand, the other one being used to prop up her aching head. "I'm not jealous, idiot," she grumbled. "I just don't feel right. And don't you think it's a little bit strange that every woman on this ship that I've spoken to in the last few hours has either a headache, a backache, or some other sort of ache?"

O'Rourke grinned at her in a way he most likely would have ascribed to Cary Grant or George Clooney. Patil personally described it as a cross between a drunkard and a llama, and apparently Cragen felt the same way. "Listen, Ellie baby, maybe all you little ladies are just worried about us fellas rejecting all of you in favor of those fantastic femmes from far away, but don't worry. At the end of the day, the Lieutenant will come rushing back to you. So that he can be beaten most severely, I have no doubt. So don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

Patil shot his friend a look. Had he lost his mind completely? Must be those…women. Those scintillating, scantily-clad epitomes of the wet dream, those…

Whoah. Now he was composing poetry. Very bad poetry. Alliteration and all.

These 'gifts' might not be so great after all.

Cragen stood up and nudged Yates, who appeared to be napping, head nestled in her arms. The green women had gone, and O'Rourke was seeming to snap out of his state, slightly goofy look still prominent on his round face. Cragen, somewhat supporting Yates, mumbled, "C'mon. Let's go see Phlox. I need a painkiller. Or something to beat."

The two crewwomen lurched out of the mess hall. Patil snapped his fingers in front of O'Rourke's face, and he jumped. "That's our cue. Your shift starts in ten."

"Huh? Oh. Okay, Shiv."

…

"They're still here."

The next day, Shiv Patil was beginning to fear his friend would resemble a Muppet forever. Those glazed eyes, the messy hair, that stupid grin…we're losing him.

"Yes, Duncan, they are still here." And seemed likely to be on the ship forever. They had sunk their claws, pardon, manicured fingernails, into all of the ship's men, even those who were known to prefer their own gender. Shiv figured it could be an icon issue, like Madonna or something like that. Those women, those magical, mystical, marvelous women, were stealing away his best friend.

Not that he couldn't see their appeal, heavens no. They were sensual, seductive, and, most of all, green. Shiv wasn't sure why, but green women just seemed so much more scrumptious. It was like lusting after Yoda.

If Yoda happened to be female, barely dressed, and smokin' hot.

Stop it, stop it. No time to be thinking about those nymphs. His best friend was in deep trouble.

Said best friend was currently attempting to eat his tomato soup without a spoon. Patil handed him the missing utensil, and watched as O'Rourke dug in, finding it much easier and less painful to use a spoon.

"They're doing something to you, aren't they, Dunc?"

"Wha- donnowhatchootockinbout," was the muffled reply. Patil sighed. Time to bring out the big guns, he thought, and I don't mean the ones Reed keeps in his sock drawer.

"Those women. You haven't been thinking straight since they've been here. I can see why, but it still worries me."

"What? You worry too much. I can handle myself around any woman, especially these ones. You know, the tall one winked at me this morning in the corridor outside my quarters. She likes me, I can tell."

"Don't be a fool, Duncan. They've got some kind of control over the men of the ship. Maybe they're making the women sick too,"

"And you're not affected…why? Don't you like women, Shivvy?"

Shiv blinked at the veiled insult. He knew his friend didn't mean it, but for some reason, everything Duncan said was slicing like a cheese grater on his last nerve of cheddar.

"I never said I wasn't affected. But I do think more rationally than most of the men on board here, including, may I add, yourself."

"What? So you're saying I'm stupid?"

"No, but if that's the way you're going to take it then maybe I should!"

They were both standing and shouting at this point, but neither noticed. It was at this point that Duncan O'Rourke made the unfortunate decision to remark that perhaps Ensign Patil's father had done something unmentionable with a wharf rat that somehow produced the usually calm Shiv. Shiv's eyes flew wide open, and everyone in the mess hall and adjoining corridors heard the sickening crack, a sound unique only to breaking bones. O'Rourke was still standing, surprisingly enough, but he was holding his head in both hands as blood gushed out of his nose. "You broke by dose!"

O'Rourke retaliated by taking Shiv down, pounding on him with his fists. Three or four MACOs jumped in to break up the fight. The two were forcefully separated, just as Lieutenant Reed walked in. He rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples at seeing the scene. "Take them to Sickbay and have Doctor Phlox fix them up. And keep them separated, if you please."

The MACOs saluted clumsily around their struggling charges and hauled the two of them down the corridors.

…

The two gentlemen avoided each other for a few days, both ashamed of their actions, even after they learned that the way they were acting was a product of pheromones produced by their 'guests'. They did bump into each other at their lunch table three days after the Orians went home. Duncan was the first to speak.

"Lissen, Shiv, man…just wanna say I'm…I'm sorry, all right?"

Shiv was surprised. "You're sorry? But I broke your nose! I should be apologizing!"

"So?"

"So what?"

Duncan was getting impatient. "So apologize already!"

"Oh. I'm sorry for breaking your nose, Dunc. Won't happen again."

"Hopefully."

Shiv amended his previous statement. "Won't happen again under normal circumstances."

Duncan looked thoughtful. "So, I should be due for another Sickbay trip in what, three weeks?"

They both sat down. "I'd say two and a half. You never know, we may get thrown into some alternate universe where everyone is evil and we have to impersonate our evil halves and I'd have to break your nose so as not to blow our cover."

"You're still mad about that mum comment, aren't you?"

"Hey, it could happen."

Cragen and Yates walked by, accompanied by Neeta Saxena, a tall Security ensign. "Hey girls," Shiv called amicably, "How are you feeling today."

Cragen grinned in her crooked manner, the result of a broken jaw in her youth according to her, and said, "All right. I suppose we won't have to worry our pretty little heads about you all leaving us for green women anymore, do we?"

Duncan reddened slightly. "About that. Elle, Sophie, I'm sorry about what I said. I wasn't meself, see."

Sophie Yates smiled a little bit. "It's forgotten. Well, maybe not forgotten, but we'll all look back on this and laugh. Especially about how Shiv broke your nose."

Neeta crooked an eyebrow. "I heard about that," she said. "Just goes to show. It's always the quiet ones."

"Yeah. I guess still waters do run deep," Cragen flirted. "Shiv you bad boy you."

They walked off, leaving the two men to their lunches. "Bad boy, hmm?"

Shiv grinned. "What can I say?"

"Why didn't those women affect you?"

"They did. I just happen to be less susceptible to a pretty woman than you."

"Uh-huh."

"And I bet they couldn't cook."

"Whatever, man."

"But they were hot, weren't they?"

"Smokin', Shiv. Absolutely smokin'.

…

A/N: Oh, Bound. What a funny funny episode. Just felt a need to write this. I have one kind of a "Girl Talk" kinda thing with Cragen and all them, but it's going slow. Anyway, I found a way to feature Malcolm! The only major canon character in this at all! So cute. Press the button. It's set to review.