Chapter 5: Love in an Elevator
He blinks against the little stabbing pinpricks of white light there in his eyeballs, for a moment he is simply floating away, nothing but a mind against a thunder and lightning filled gray backdrop. Captain Holmes attempts to move his arms a bit when he discovers there is a weight on his back holding him still in the dirt. He stills, gently moving every muscle that he is capable of moving against the weight of his attacker. He closes his eyes and brings to the front of his memory all of the beings who are currently in the PA. He knows where John, Greg and George the Odal are…they are out looking for the Telom female…the Telom who just happens to have her skinny arse planted in the middle of Sherlock's spine.
This will never do.
Ever so slowly, the captain tenses his back and arms. He gives absolutely no warning when he pushes upward from the ground. The Telom does not fall so much as take a couple of huge steps off of Sherlock's bare back. In the same amount of time he takes to get on his feet she merely steps to the side and assumes a fighting position; the captain has spun around to face her and landed a direct hit on her left shoulder. She winces and rubs the ache with long, pale gold fingers. The captain merely dances back on his toes as she rushes him. He knows this game, though, and instead of stepping to the side as she expects, he actually bends at the waist and allows her momentum to carry her over his shoulder to land hard on the ground where she hits with a rather undignified grunt.
She has not yet had enough. The Telom is almost instantly back on her feet, both of her long arms swinging out in an attempt to catch the captain around the middle and bring him down, because the only way to actually win this game is to pin down your opponent. Sherlock turns once more to face her and bides his time, waiting patiently for her to give him an opening. Just as she attempts to rush him for the second time, three pairs of tentacles grasp her around the waist and hold her fast. She actually growls and attempts to dislodge them to no avail. Long strands of her gold and white hair have slipped out of their bonds and now frame her face. Her pale golden cheeks are now suffused with rose and her eyes glint with malice.
John and Greg move up beside George quickly. The Telom finally stops struggling and gives Sherlock a serious icy blue glare. He just smiles and asks George to let her go. George hoots softly as if reprimanded and slithers backwards a pace.
"Well, now that we are all here, let's have some real fun." John looks around at each face. There is a nice bruise welling up on Sherlock's chest, though it is nothing to be overly concerned with. He nods to himself and then waits for Sherlock to step in. The captain, however, has left this entire project up to John and he is going to allow him to finish it. "Alright then," John states to the other four beings in turn. "Let's split up into two teams. You three will be against us." John gazes directly into Sherlock's eyes as he waves a hand between the two of them. Sherlock cocks an eyebrow and his face sets up a wall of expression against the mischievous grin attempting to crack it.
"You three have ten minutes. Don't disappoint me." John states with authority. Greg and the Telom give each a surprised look and take off through the dense brush. George snorts loudly and follows them, trying hard to keep up in his own fashion. John then turns to his lover. "Are we going to spar or do you have something else in mind?"
"You said ten minutes, right?" Sherlock leans down into John's personal space.
"Aye." John says, tilting his head slightly to allow his eyes to be pulled into the tractor beam of the glinting green ones a few centimeters above his head.
"Let us give them an hour." The captain whispers as he captures John's mouth with his own. John has not yet come down from the adrenaline rush of the hunt-and-pin game he has been playing all afternoon and so when their mouths crash against each other it is with a primal force that his entire body answers Sherlock's questing lips. The captain walks backward until he hits the wall and somehow manages to get his hand on the pad properly to open the door. John's brain barely registers the sound of it opening and then they are moving down the corridor; finally breaking away from each other long enough to step into the lift. Sherlock punches several of the buttons and the machine stops. He is pulling John into his body with one hand and simultaneously reaching out to yank a tiny camera from the ceiling of the lift while standing on tip toe.
John looks up from his careful tongue bathing of Sherlock's collar bones and a short, breathy giggle escapes him before he can catch it. The captain turns his head back to his lover at the same time he smashes the silvery machine against the floor. He raises his arms to effectively cage in John's head and drops his mouth to John's neck. With both of them already half naked, the whole process is going along quite swimmingly. Two grown men are arching their backs and grinding their hips tightly against one another when the captain's e-book gives a rather nastily intruding chirp against his hip. Sherlock digs it out of his trousers, barely glances at it to see it is his brother and promptly drops it the floor. It does not break, though it does make a rather pathetic thud against the tile.
John now has both hands around Sherlock's neck; his fingers raking through the curls at his nape. John is all but standing on his toes when Sherlock lifts him up by placing both of his broad hands under John's rear end and pulling. They settle with one of John's legs dangling and the other braced against Sherlock's hip. Sherlock is growling into John's ear as he makes tiny nips up his neck and under his jaw. They continue to grind together until John makes use of one hand to undo both of their trouser buttons. Now they are rubbing, grinding, pressing their erections together; both men growling and panting; one of John's hands wrapped around both of them and the other clutching Sherlock's shoulder for balance. It is an incredibly complicated position though the two of them seem to be carrying it off without a hitch.
"I am going to come, John." Sherlock is almost bent in half as he is carrying most of their combined body weight. His voice is a deep crush of velvet against the side of John's face.
"Aye captain, my captain." John whispers into the captain's ear before giving it a good swipe with his tongue. He rocks harder against his lover, using the wall for leverage.
The force of their simultaneous release is enough to sway them both off balance, though Sherlock manages to only slide down to the floor rather than fall. After a few moments, the material of their trousers has wicked away the majority of their bliss and they both lean against the wall of the lift, panting and catching their breath. John wipes sweat from his forehead just as Sherlock's e-book plaintively complains again. The captain sighs and leans himself forward to grab at the machine. He stabs at the screen and John cannot help the fact that he is completely hypnotized with the way the sweat rolling down Sherlock's back reflects the soft blue light of the lift; the way the pale skin is faintly pink and the muscles still taut from the exertion of holding them both up.
"God, you are lovely." John mutters then closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the rough gray wall. He has to close them against the sharp focus that everything around him seems to have taken on. The captain seems to be immune to the compliments his lover continuously pays him, though John can see the truth when those pale cheeks redden over like a rose blooming in the springtime. John just smiles.
Sherlock remains seated on the floor of the lift for a few minutes more, punching at the screen of his e-book. John opens his eyes and scoots over in order to read the prissy message that the captain has just sent to the Admiral. John snickers.
I will fix the camera, Admiral. Next time we will even allow you to watch.
Ambassador Watson strides between the rows of seats in the meeting hall with an even, ground-covering gait. He carries a stack of old-fashioned paper files with his e-book on top. When he gets to the front of the room, he places the files on the desk in a pile and lays his e-book against a rectangular-shaped pad and taps the screen. Behind him there is a click that echoes around the room. George, Greg, the Telom whose first name John does not remember, and the Holmes brothers are seated in the first row of twelve that line the majority of the hall. The lights above the gallery begin to go down so that only the podium and John's table are illuminated.
"Are we expecting anyone else?" John pointedly requests of the Admiral.
Mycroft answers him with an almost silent reminder that their formal titles need to be preserved. "No, Ambassador."
John knows full well his mistake, though he brushes it off and continues. He taps the screen of his e-book and a map of the galaxy opens up in glowing three dimensions between himself and his little class. He points at the Earth and then moves in the direction of the star Alpha Centauri A, then makes a claw to literally reach into the hologram and zoom into a larger version of the star and its accompanying moons and planets.
"This is the gas giant known as Polyphemus." John zooms in a huge red planet. Its surface is a violent red and yellow, proving its inability to sustain life other than a few strains of bacteria. The crew members watch as the planet orbits lazily, several moons spinning alongside it. John presses against one of them with his index finger and then only it remains in the map. "This is Pandora." He allows the moon to orbit so that his class gets a good look at its geological features: mountain ranges, rivers, oceans, and even some dark splotches that stand out like fungus on a white-barked tree. John taps against what seems to be mountain ranges and does not say a word when he hears the Telom gasp and the Odal give a soft hoot of surprise.
Directly in front of them are mountains that seem to be rooted to nothing except each other. There are long strands of vines and possibly rope bridges between them.
"Yes, you are seeing it correctly. These are the floating mountains." John taps the map again and continues to show the crew members various key points. When he gets to one of the black splotches, he presses the pause button on his e-book to stop the program. "Pay attention now. This is why we are going out there." He says as he taps on the spot again. It gets bigger but does not gain any detail. He looks at every single face until he sees comprehension dawn on them. He gives the captain a nod and Sherlock rises to his feet. John moves to take his place.
Captain Holmes points at the big area of nothing on the map. He uses his fingers to turn it on its axis, then spins it around and then reverses it. It does not change. He reaches over and turns off John's e-book, then faces the crew, grasping his hands behind his back. Without preamble, he says in a clear, rich baritone that would be clearly understood by even some being sitting in the very back corners of the gallery:
"Pandora is dying."