rc45: (Default)
[personal profile] rc45
Title: (Look at me) Looking in your eyes
Author: charlies_dragon
Fandom: Star Trek (2009) (a.k.a. Star Trek Reboot, Star Trek XI etc, you get the picture. The new one with the pretty CGI and pretty cast)
Obligatory Linkage:http://community.livejournal.com/dragons_horde/15408.html#cutid1
Rating: NC-17
Sporked by: [livejournal.com profile] agenttrojie and [livejournal.com profile] tea_fiend
Notes: A short and sweet one. For a given value of sweet, anyway. We appear to be posting out of order rather, thanks to the ST:XI film being released in May while our last published mission was in February. If anyone's got any horrors for us to tackle that were posted before March 2009, let us know so we can fill in the chronological gap. Betaed by [livejournal.com profile] ansela_jonla and [livejournal.com profile] cassie5squared.



May 2009 HST

Response Centre #45 was normally a maelstrom of barking, clicking and screeching, with human arguments and the hissing sound of minor fires being started by reptilian hiccups and extinguished by tiny localised thunderstorms running counterpoint throughout, but not today. No, today, or, to be more precise, for the past long period of HQ's mysterious lack of time, the human, animal, mini and butterfly population of the RC had been almost entirely silent. This meant that the only faintly recognisable noise audible to those passing the soundproofed door was that of... phaser fire?

If such a passer-by had ventured into the RC, he or she would have found the two Agents cuddled up together on an enormous couch that appeared to have replaced their console chair, in front of the console, watching... Star Trek? Such an observer probably would have been wise to not mention that watching the newest Star Trek movie before it had officially come out on DVD would be misuse of PPC technology.

Ranged around the Agents and apparently enjoying the comfy expanse of couch and the lack of bickering from their mistresses were the various pets and minis. Absinthe had claimed Trojie's lap and a great deal of the surrounding upholstery, and was causing that Agent to shift uncomfortably under her weight every few seconds, although without taking her eyes from the screen, and the Unnamed Cat was sitting rather more demurely on Pads, whilst Edmond, Madam Pomphrey, Elebereth and Apple snored on and around them. The Quantum Weather Butterflies were entirely unaffected by the entire situation, however, because the current crop of caterpillars were pupating en masse.

Trojie stretched during a very brief lull in the action. 'How long have we been here?' she asked Pads.

'Time has no meaning in HQ. Now shh.'

'I make this the seventeenth time we've - ooh, Chekov!'

'Chekov? Of all the men on the crew, not to mention Uhura, you squeal at Chekov?'

'Not like that I don't,' said Trojie primly, elbowing her partner. 'It's just, he's adorable.'

'You're not adopting him,' said Pads hurriedly. 'Pavel Chekov does not count as a Cute Animal Friend.'

'I never said he did!'

'You're still not adopting him. And don't look at me like that, I know what you were thinking!'

Trojie pouted. Pads beheld the trembling lower lip and cursed. 'This is going to be the Edmund Pevensie thing all over again, isn't it?' she muttered. 'Fine, you can keep him under the desk if you really want, but that's only as long as you don't mind me installing Kirk Mk. II in the bed.'

'In the bed? Our bed?'

'Yes?'

'I thought we were giving this lesbianism thing a bash? And is Kirk a werewolf and no-one told me, or something?'

'Look, a man doesn't actually have to be a werewolf for me to have a thing for him, all right? It just helps. And I thought maybe now that I'd got you into the idea of having a party in your pants we could perhaps disregard this pickiness about gender?'

'...is this that weird-arse heterosexuality thing again?'

'Bisexuality, darling, it's much more entertaining. Particularly if you're liable to change sex every so often.'

Trojie regarded the movie solemnly for a while, evidently processing this concept. 'I'd much rather get McCoy in bed, to be honest,' she said after a while. 'Or both of them. Kirk and McCoy.'

There was a pause whilst both agents contemplated a bed containing Kirk and McCoy.

'That would end in slash,' said Pads eventually, not unhappily.

'Yes, I rather thought so.' Trojie grinned.

'I think we need to go find another genderbending gun... because that kind of fun is too much fun for us to be missing out on -'

BEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

The film cut off abruptly and was replaced with an angrily flashing message in bright red. Pads leant forward to read it.

Agents Trojanhorse and Paddlebrains,

Clearly you both have far too much time on your hands. You can take your illicitly-gained knowledge of the new Star Trek canon to work directly, seeing as you are now, through your own actions, the most qualified agents we have in the Department to deal with the following travesty.

- The Queen Anne's Lace, HOD, PPC Department of Bad Slash


There was a mission report below the message. Pads hit the 'print' button and collected the pages of badfic as they scrolled out. She read the first sentence, yelped, and dropped the printout.

'That bloody carrot is sadistic,' she said, covering her eyes with one hand. 'And also determined to ruin a perfectly good mutual fantasy.'

Trojie picked up the printout. 'Yikes,' was her comment. 'Since when was Bones a dominatrix? Or whatever the male version of that is.'

'Dominatron, maybe? And since when was Jim Kirk a submissive bottom?' retorted Pads. 'Both can definitely be done, but it needs justification. Or an AU tag, at the very least.'

'AU as in 'an alternate universe where Kirk rolls over and takes what's given to him without complaint, and Bones likes to punish people?'' Trojie demanded.

'Yeah. Exactly that sort of AU,' Pads growled. 'Got your Bag?'

Trojie picked it up off the floor. 'Yep.'

'Portalling now.' The Animagus leant over and tapped the right button. The familiar shimmering blue doorway opened onto a darkened room.

James T. Kirk, Captain of the USS Enterprise, was currently naked, tied to his bed and gagged "because you talk-too-much-dammit". His wrists were tied tightly, legs tied but able to move a little so he could wrap his legs round Bones' waist but do nothing else, cock erect and leaking against his stomach, waiting for Bones to actually look at him and do something with him.

Trojie and Pads shuffled into a corner of the room in order to keep out of the way at the same time as observing. Pads was already writing the chargelist. 'Too much description is definitely a charge, right?' she whispered.

'It is when it's like this,' said Trojie, folding her arms. 'I feel like the author could have just saved us all the trouble and drawn a diagram. Glod, you have to let your readers have something left to the imagination.'

Bones was sitting at his desk finishing off his reports for the day

'He has his own desk in Kirk's room?' Pads asked, frowning.

'Clearly they're in a deep and committed relationship,' Trojie said, mirroring her partner's expression. 'With absolutely no set-up or backstory or even logic.'

'Same old, same old, then.' Both agents shuddered as an inexplicable tense shift washed over them.

Jim was just about to pass out from his utter inability to do anything he wanted or needed to

'Being unable to touch yourself when horny makes you pass out now?'

Trojie scowled. 'Not with normal human biology it doesn't. Sexual frustration has no bearing on consciousness. And I'm all for kinky!Kirk, but this is ridiculous. Nothing's happening, he's just naked and tied up. How is that arousing?'

'I'm guessing the anticipation, but still not seeing how that makes you pass out.'

Bones stood up and started to get undressed (not stripping for Jim, just, taking clothes off) and walked over to the bathroom, the sounds of water hitting naked flesh and skin being scrubbed echoed out of the bathroom after a moment or two. When he came out with just a towel around his waist, Jim was silent and desperate.

'That poor comma in that parenthesis,' said Pads sympathetically. 'Also, eyes back in head, Trojie.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Trojie, yanking her eyes from McCoy. 'Although I'll thank you to stop ogling Kirk.'

'But he's all helpless and naked,' Pads protested.

'Yes,' Trojie agreed, eyeing him. 'But I thought we agreed after the SGA incident that that was one fetish of yours best left uninvestigated.'

'It worries me as much as you, believe me.'

'Yeah, but there's no chance of you waking up to find yourself naked and trussed to the bed, is there?'

Pads decided to change the subject, though not without filing that idea away for future consideration. 'Shouldn't we be paying attention? Something's about to happen.'

He didn’t want to annoy Bones anymore than he already had done, so he's being a good boy and finally doing what Bones had asked him to do when he first walked in the room ("shut up and let me look after you for once will you, dammit Jim. You don't always have to be in charge to be safe."). When Bones sat on the edge of the bed he leant over, the change in the light level made Jim open his eyes, and looked Jim straight in the eyes.

'So that's ... a tense shift, poor characterisation, bad style of reporting dialogue, misused catchphrase and Pronoun Problem all in one short paragraph,' the Animagus muttered, making notes. 'Good work there from the Author.'

'How far are we going to let this one go, d'you think?' Trojie asked, watching McCoy ungag Kirk and then decide to clamp a hand over the captain's jaw. 'I mean, we're two sentences from people sticking things up places you need consent for.'

Pads considered. 'Well, Kirk is a bit of a manwhore, it's not like we're preserving his virginity here ... but then again we won't grab that many extra charges letting them go the distance.' She raised her head and unfocused her eyes in order to read the Words. 'Yeah, well, there's sex, pretty formulaic, Kirk just lies there and takes it, with Bones telling him that he's going to give him such a good time you'll be wondering why you ever disobeyed one of my orders before now, which makes me wonder how come the CMO is giving orders to the Captain...'

'He shouldn't be,' said Trojie. 'Unless there's some kind of medical emergency, at least.'

'Which there doesn't appear to have been.' The Animagus yawned. 'This is just going to be boring. Shall we exorcise before anyone puts their fingers anywhere inadvisable?'

'Sounds like a plan.' Trojie yanked the bell from her pocket and strode into the centre of the room, planting her feet solidly and beginning to toll the bell.

McCoy and Kirk looked up. Or rather, McCoy looked up and Kirk tried to and wrenched his neck. Just as McCoy hurled himself off Kirk and towards Trojie, Pads wandered in and tripped him over. She then waved a DVD at him. 'I don't have a canon source, officially,' she said. 'But I burnt this DVD, and I'm pretty certain I can poke you in tender places with it.' She then produced the hard-cased box set of the Star Trek: TOS first season. 'And this will do in the interim.' She bopped him over the head with it.

'Shall I even bother untying Kirk?' she asked. 'I mean, it's sort of handy having him tied up.'

'Nah, don't worry, we can let him out when I've exorcised,' said Trojie over the noise of her bell. 'Avaunt!' she cried. 'I banish thee, heartless wraith, rapist of shiny, innocent new canons! I banish lack-of-explanation! I banish ... hell, what's a good word for what she's done to Kirk? I banish ... subbification? I banish making Jim Kirk into a submissive, anyway. I banish inaccurate characterisation in general! I banish the weretense, the Pronoun Problem, and poor style! In the name of RODDENBERRY and ABRAMS, I banish thee! AVAUNT!'

'If you hate it, exit stage left,' hissed the Author-Wraith as it disgorged. Pads flapped at it with her DVD, busily untying the now-wildly-bucking body of James T. Kirk with one hand.

'Trojie, a little help here?' she said.

'Hang on,' said Trojie. Pads looked over - her partner was attempting to shuffle a very dazed-looking McCoy back into his uniform. 'Be right with you.'

'Can you at least chuck me a knife? He's locked these knots right up, wriggling like this.'

A few minutes passed, and Pads eventually freed Kirk. He proceeded to jack-knife to his feet, punch Pads, and attempt to punch McCoy before finding himself menaced by a large, angry dog. Trojie dragged the now quite horrified-looking and yet indignant McCoy bodily behind her, as Pads growled at Kirk.

'Captain Kirk,' said Trojie, 'You've got to calm down.'

'Like hell,' snarled Kirk. 'What the hell are you doing on my ship?'

'Jim, look, I don't know what came over me -' said McCoy. He strode out from behind the Agents and went to Kirk, who recoiled.

Trojie used the distraction to haul the neuralyser from her Bag and nod her head violently enough that the sunglasses perched on top of her skull fell to the bridge of her nose, over her regular glasses. She silently praised weeks of practising that move as she pressed the button on the neuralyser, praying that Pads would at least close her eyes.

FLASH

'Captain James T. Kirk, and Doctor Leonard 'Bones' McCoy,' she began. 'You are not engaged in a BDSM relationship. Kirk, you do not just submit to people determined to either give you orders or have their wicked way with you, and McCoy, you've never given your Captain orders. Quick, Pads, we need to get Kirk into his trousers before the flash wears off!'

Pads transformed back to human and aided, to use the term loosely, her partner in restoring Kirk's clothes.

'You've been having a late-night bourbon and gossip session,' said Trojie as they dragged McCoy back out into the corridor. 'And now you're going to bed. Goodnight, Doctor McCoy.'

Pads opened a portal as soon as the doctor's back was turned.

'Y'know,' she said as they stepped back into their RC. 'I don't think I can watch that film again. Not right now.'

'No, me neither,' agreed Trojie.

'DS9, then?' asked Pads, gesturing towards the couch with its assorted fluffy faithful pets.

Trojie grinned. 'And then you've got to let me introduce you to this new BBC show, Merlin.'

Just after they'd settled themselves on the couch, the console let out a 'BEEEEEEEEP!'

Trojie sighed. Pads unwound herself and got up to look at the console. She swore when she read the printout.

'What is it?'

'Ask not for whom the Console beeps, it beeps for thee,' intoned the Animagus.

'What?'

'Well, you know how you just mentioned the BBC's Merlin?'

'...yes?'

'Well, you're going to have to teach me about it somewhat on the fly, I'm afraid.'

FIN
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Response Centre #45

January 2010

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