One Time They Were: Chapter Two
"There was a dryer accident," he told her. "T'Pantyhose was of an extremely delicate weave and should never have attempted to utilize such a device."
Sock sighed, another clear indication that all was not well with him. Underoosa made sympathetic noises, encouraging him to continue without actually articulating anything at all.
"To ensure our survival when the madness comes upon us, Ash'ai males are mentally bonded to a female when we reach the equivalent of seven Terran years old," he explained.
"You foot-coverings sure like seven Terran years, don't you?" the teddy observed. "But what does that have to do with— oh!" Then, "Oh no! I'm so sorry, Mr. Sock."
She thought the Ash'ai seemed astoundingly serene if he'd intended to imply what she had inferred.
"Yes," he said, as if she'd spoken the question dancing around her mind. "When my mate… was lost, I felt our bond break. Of course, I sent condolences to her parents, but as T'Pantyhose and I were never a suitable match, my life was otherwise unaffected by her death."
"I see," was Underoosa's dry reply. She'd always heard the Ash'ai were cold culottes, but she'd always thought Mr. Sock was sort of an exception. It seemed that she'd thought wrong.
"I do not believe you do, Ms. Underoosa."
"Oh, I get it, alright!" she shot back. "You've got the seven-year itch and no nylons left to scratch it for you."
"I was mistaken," he conceded. "You understand perfectly." He almost smiled in his relief.
"And just what makes you think I'm the cure for what ails you? What makes you think I'd agree to something so insane?"
Sock frowned, half confused and half afraid. "I do not believe it to be insane at all. We are well suited."
"The hell we are, Mister! Why, you didn't even care that T'Panyhose died! I don't think I could ever be considered 'suitable' to someone so callous."
"Our bonding is a logical choice," he purred. He purred! Underoosa tried not to love the purring. "Given our mutual desire, Nyota, our eventual mating is — barring any injury that might render us incapable — likely to the point of being nearly inevitable."
"'Desire'?" she parroted.
"'Mutual desire,'" he reiterated. "I did not know T'Panyhose very well and had no particular wish to mate with her. I know you, Nyota. And I know that you are the one I want."
.
.
Still flabbergasted, Underoosa tried to settle into her bureau for the night. Commander Sock's remarkable request prevented her from getting a wink of sleep. After he'd assured her he didn't need her answer right away, she'd rushed him from her rooms, saying she would think it over. And think she did. All through the ship's night.
Sleeping with Mr. Sock? She couldn't claim she'd never contemplated it. Hell, how many times had she fantasized about feeling the Ash'ai's fine cotton sliding against her silk, filling her over and over until it felt as if her seams would burst?
But, oh! Fantasies were like crushes; they were always better in your mind than in reality. Weren't they? And Besides, Sock wasn't asking for a quick tumble on a low setting.
"Why don't you ask Nurse Wimple? She'd do anything for the chance of a night or seven in your drawers."
"Nurse Wimple does not appeal." He was asking for it all. "I am looking for a mate. You and I are sufficiently compatible — in all applicable areas — to ensure an advantageous alliance."
If she understood the Ash'ai marriage bond correctly, they'd be stitched together for the rest of her life. And sexy or not, was Sock really what she wanted in a husband?
She tossed and turned in her drawer until she was a mass of wrinkles, his final words haunting her until ship's morning dawned. "Without your cooperation, Ms. Underoosa, I will die."
A/N: As the now-edited author's note for the first chapter of this ficlet says, this one is TOS, while the others are all reboot.