The Two Big Ones

Chapter eleven - On Down the Canal

Bretagne, Earth

June 2263

Spock

When he awoke the next morning, dawn was just lighting the sky. He carefully untangled himself from Nyota and slipped out of the bed. Dressing quietly in loose pants and a long-sleeved tee-shirt, he moved out onto the dock and a short way down the pathway beside the river, where there was an open area beside the pathway. There he stopped and began to twist and stretch his body. When he felt loose and limber, he began his katas. He spun and flashed around the open area, enjoying the brisk morning air. And then he began to run down the pathway. He ran for five kilometers, flat out, relishing the freedom, and then he turned and ran back.

When he arrived back at the small town, he could smell the fresh bread smell in the air. Turning down the main street of town, he found the small bakery and purchased a long baguette and some warm croissants. He debated over the pan de chocolate, but decided two nights in a row was probably too much. He took his purchases and ambled back toward the dock. He leapt lightly back down into the boat and went down the hall to the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter. Back into the bedroom he went, where Nyota was still sleeping. He shed his clothes and slipped back into the bed, curling himself around her and nibbling on her neck and ears. She wiggled in his arms, murmuring, and then turned and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly.

"It is time to wake up, Nyota. The sun is up."

"My aren't you chipper this morning. And what have you been up to so early?"

"I have not been up to anything."

"Then how did that fresh bread smell get in here?"

"Oh, well, I did go to the bakery after I finished my run after I exercised. And you have been here sleeping all that time."

She giggled and wiggled her body against him. "I guess you are ready for a shower then, aren't you?"

He certainly had no objections to that. They had not yet tried out the shower on the boat, but the water in the kitchen came out nice and hot. However, he definitely had something else on his mind at the moment. He continued to nibble on her neck, moving down to her collar bones, his hands roving even lower, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples. She moaned at him and arched her body up into his hands. Her hands slid around him, stroking his back, running down his body, teasing his buttocks, pulling him closer to her. He groaned as she slid her fingers down between the cheeks of his ass, fingertips grazing the backs of his testicles, one finger pressing firmly into the firm flesh just behind them. He growled softly at her as other fingertips pressed into the soft flesh higher up, testing.

He bit lightly at her nipples, making her moan and sigh. His hands roamed over her body, teasing, setting her on fire. And then he slipped one hand between her legs and she sighed and rolled her hips, opening herself to him and he dipped into her warm wetness, touching, caressing, until she was panting and pulling at him, incoherent with desire and need. He nudged at her opening just enough to wet himself, then pulled back. She cried out, pushing herself at him. He nudged again, a little deeper this time, and she gasped and moaned and lifted her hips, pushing and pulling at him with her hands. And then he bent and fastened his mouth to hers and thrust up hard and fast, holding there for just a moment before starting a relentless rhythm, pounding into her until she screamed against him, body convulsing, tipping him over the edge so that he filled her with his heat, growling and groaning against her neck. And then they were quiet again, panting at each other, floating down from the white hot heights. His lips roamed over her face, brushing softly, treasuring, and she smiled up at him. "Do that again."

He threw back the covers and pulled her out of the bed, laughing, tossing her over his shoulder and hurrying down the hall the short distance to the bathroom. He shut the door and reached over to flip the cover over the toilet paper and then he set her on her feet while he tried to figure out the water controls. When the water came shooting out cold, she shrieked and clutched at him, but he had it corrected quickly. There was plenty of room to turn about, but the water came down from the ceiling right in the middle of the room, without much spread. It did not take them long to figure out that they should stand very close together, but that did not bother them at all. Unfortunately, the hot water did not last long enough to satisfy them, but it was a very relaxed couple that stood there dripping, realizing that all the towels were in the bedroom. Nyota giggled at him as he stood there, perplexed. "How could we forget that, Nyota?"

"You were only focused on one thing, ashayam. And that wasn't the towels." She was laughing out loud now, merriment bubbling over their link as well.

He looked at her and his lips quirked up. He cupped her face in his hands and bent his forehead to hers. "You make me forget everything, k'diwa."

She sighed happily and nuzzled against him for a moment, and then shivered. "I'm getting cold. Let's run down the hall." And she opened the door and took off.

When they were dry and dressed, they made quick work of preparing breakfast. And then he checked the levels in the sewage tank and the fuel tank and the water tank before they cast off. Nothing needed tending this morning. Before very long, they were back on the river, the bright morning sunlight sparkling on the water.

***

The next day was not so pretty. There were dark clouds in the sky, and it was cooler, with a slight breeze. By midmorning, it was raining. He went and got a sweater and pulled it on over his shirt. And then he brought one to Nyota, as well, taking the wheel while she pulled it on. When they came to the lock, just before lunchtime, she was concerned. "That concrete will be slick. It's not textured plascrete. Be careful."

He assured her that he would. He saw her face through the window, watching him, and he was very careful with his footing. When he was back inside, he took one of the towels and dried himself, rubbing his hair throughly. He sat at the table and ruffled through the brochures, looking to see whether there was any heat source in the boat. Apparently not. And then she called out to him. "Why don't you light the oven and prop the door open? That should take the chill off the air."

"An excellent idea, and one I would not have thought of. I shall do exactly that."

It took a while, but eventually it was much more comfortable on the bridge. He would have to be careful to check the fuel level when they tied up tonight.

When they were ready to eat lunch, he heated up the soup they had purchased and laid slices of cheese on the sliced baguette and set them in the oven until the cheese was just starting to melt. And when he had all the food on the table, he told her to shut off the engine and come and eat the hot food. He kept an eye on the river bank while they ate, careful that they did not drift too close.

After lunch they continued on down the river. The rain was coming harder now. By the time they reached the last lock of the day, it was pouring hard. She made him put on the waterproof she had purchased, concerned. He waited until she was completely inside the lock before he ventured outside. He leapt up, onto the lock structure, and felt his foot slip on the slick surface. He bent over, trying to balance, but it was too wet and he found himself slipping, sliding down between the concrete pier and the boat, dangerously close to the propellor. He heard her shocked cry and the sound of the motor stilled immediately. But the propellor would still be spinning. He reached out his arms and found the gunnel, just within his grasp. He lurched forward, brought his feet against the side of the boat and pushed hard, propelling himself up out of the water and over the side of the boat. She was there, pulling on him, hauling him the rest of the way over the side. "Are you hurt? Anywhere? Spock?"

"I am not hurt. I am soaked, cold, shocked. But I am not hurt." He hugged her hard, attempting to reassure her.

The lockmaster peered down at them from atop the concrete pier. "Monsieur, you are not harmed?"

"No, I am not harmed, only wet. I misjudged how slick the surface would be. It is my error."

"Toss me the ropes, monsieur, and we will get you through the lock so that you may dry off." There was a younger man at the other stanchion, perhaps the lockmaster's son. Nyota picked up the rope lying there and tossed it to the lockmaster while he slid down the gunnel to the front of the boat and tossed up the other rope. Soon the water was rushing out of the lock while they held on, rocking wildly.

When the ropes were freed and tossed back to them, he coiled them quickly and ducked back inside the boat. Nyota was there with towels, quickly stripping off his wet clothing and rubbing his body. "Go stand in the kitchen, near the oven. I will start the engine and get us out of the way of anyone else who may want to use the lock."

Shivering, he nodded his agreement and moved into the kitchen, the warmth from the open oven very welcome. When she had maneuvered the boat downstream far enough that they were no danger to anyone else coming out of the lock, she cut the engine again and went into the bedroom, coming back with clean underwear, another long-sleeved shirt and clean jeans. She took the sopping wet things she had stripped off of him and hung them up in the bathroom, off whatever projections she could find. She came back and took one of the towels and rubbed hard on his hair, getting out as much water as she could. Then she took the towels and spread them out to dry. She brought him socks and dry shoes, as well. He sat at the table in the bridge and put them on. And then she had a sweater, ready for him to pull on. He began to feel almost normal again.

She headed back to turn the engine on again. "Make yourself some tea, heat up from the inside out."

"Yes, a good idea."

He brought her a mug of tea and stood beside her, sipping his. "Thankfully there are no more locks today."

"If there were, I would be tempted just to stop on this side and wait for the weather to clear."

He looked at her. "Nyota, that would not be practical."

"Perhaps not, but it would be safe."

He rested his hand on the back of her neck, rubbing softly. "I shall endeavor to be more careful."

"I don't think that you weren't careful. It was just one of those things that happen. But the rain could certainly stop and I would not complain."

Unfortunately, the rain did not stop. And when they got to the town where they intended to tie up overnight, they found the dock already full. Spock pulled out the map and they consulted. There was another small town only five kilometers on down the river and the sun was still above the horizon. If there were no spaces there, they would be faced with a hard choice. Fortunately, the rain slackened off just as they reached the second town and found one last spot available at the dock. Not knowing what the morning might bring, Spock braved the misty rain to top off the fuel tank. If they needed heat again tomorrow they would have plenty of fuel.

They thought about going into the town to eat, but the rain was coming down harder again, so they raided their supplies and had a large salad with cheese cubes in it and finished off with fruit. They could not sit on the bench in the back and watch the stars, so they turned off the oven and all the lights and burrowed under the covers to keep warm. And since they were really not that sleepy yet, they kept each other very warm.