Friday, May 2, 2014

"When Irish Eyes Are Talaxian" [R] - 6/9




"WHEN IRISH EYES ARE TALAXIAN"

Part 6

"You know Doc, I see no reason why we have to search the ship, together," Tom complained, as the pair walked along Deck 6. "We could cover more ground if we separate." 

In his typical snappish manner, the EMH replied, "I suppose we could separate, Mister Paris. That is, if you want to encounter more females unable to resist your . . . charms alone."

Tom glared at the Doctor. "Just about everyone is either inside Holodeck One or in their quarters. And I doubt that either Seven or Jenny are interested in my 'charms'."

The Doctor smirked. He spoke the next words with great enjoyment. "And Captain Janeway?"

The hesitation in the pilot's demeanor amused the Doctor. He had to admit - Tom Paris turned out to be an entertaining, yet worthy adversary over the past three years. The sight of a speechless Paris even made up for the loss of Kes - occasionally.

Reveling in his small victory, the Doctor continued to follow Lieutenant Paris along the corridor. He eventually found himself halting

Tom pressed the door's announciator and replied, "Since he's not inside Holodeck Two, there's a good chance he might be here."

Of all the simple-minded thinking! The Doctor acerbically reminded the Chief Pilot that Ensign Kim was under the influence of Valax. "Considering his present state, Mister Kim, Seven and Ensign Delaney could be anywhere!"

"Including here," Tom added. He rang the announciator once more. "We might as well check it out."

Again, no one responded. The Doctor turned to Tom. "Apparently, I was right. No one is answering. And we're wasting our time. I'm sure that Ensign Kim and . . ." He paused. His auditory subroutines had detected a low, gutteral moan emitting from inside the ensign's quarters. The Doctor frowned.

"What's wrong?" Tom asked, staring at the EMH.

The Doctor shook his head. "Either my auditory subroutines are malfunctioning, or there is someone inside Ensign Kim's quarters." More moans followed. "Definitely inside. I believe that Ensign Kim may be ill. Of course . . ." the Doctor's frown deepened, "the pitch of the moan seemed unusually high for a . . ."

"Computer," Tom stated, interrupting the hologram, "override privatization lock. Authorization Paris Omega Delta." The computer acknowledged the code and opened the door.

The Doctor's matrix produced enough subroutines to leave him trembling with outrage. "Well really! At least allow me to finish my sentences." But Tom had already entered Harry Kim's quarters. Realizing that he was being ignored, the EMH followed Tom inside.

Not a soul could be seen inside the living area. The Doctor spotted a lone combadge on the floor, next to the sofa. "Doesn't seem to be anyone here. Perhaps I was mis . . ." He heard another moan. Judging from Tom's reaction, he was not the only one who heard.

"Seems to be coming from inside Harry's bedroom," Tom commented. He marched toward that direction. The Doctor followed.

The EMH would have walked straight into the bedroom, if Lieutenant Paris's figure had not blocked the doorway. "Really Lieutenant! If you would please cease these erratic movements and . . ." The words died on his lips when he saw what had apparently caught the pilot's attention.

It was a sight the Doctor would never forget. A mass of flesh seemed to be displayed across Ensign Kim's bed. Flesh that belonged to the Operations Chief, Ensign Delaney and . . . and . . . the EMH could not say her name. Not even in his mind. Other words, however, poured out of his mouth. "Oh my . . . OH MY GOD!"

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The Doctor's cry rang in Tom's ears. He barely noticed. His attention remained focused on the chain of bare flesh on Harry's bed. He shook his head. Incredible!

"Oh my God!" the Doctor continued to cry. "This is unbelievable!"

Tom added in a near whisper, "More like incredible." His emotions ran the gauntlet from surprise to shock to disbelief and finally, to admiration toward his friend. "Harry, Harry, Harry!" he exclaimed with a smile on his face. "I never thought you had it in you."

Dark eyes filled with horror bored into Tom. "How can you stand there and smile at this . . . this degenerate scene?" The Doctor's gaze returned to the figures on the bed. "Seven-of-Nine!"

Degenerate was not a word Tom would describe the scene before him. More like sexy. Exciting. Erotic. Maybe even original. Yeah, definitely original. Tom marveled at the human chain stretched across the bed. Against the bed's headboard sat Seven-of-Nine in all her naked glory, with her head thrown back and legs spread wide. Ensign "Eager"himself, Harry Kim, laid below her, flat on his back and his face jammed between Seven's legs. Nor could Tom forget Jenny Delaney, whose body could rival Seven's. She straddled Harry's lower body, riding the Ops officer like a rodeo performer on a wild horse.

It amazed Tom that all three bodies seemed to move in unison. Like one big wave of flesh. Both Seven and Jenny emitted moans at the same time. "Wow!" Tom said a little louder. "Harry, you lucky bastard! I've only dreamed of experiencing something like this!"

"Lieutenant!" The Doctor's voice brimmed with outrage.

Tom dismissed the Doctor with a wave of the hand. "Give me some slack, Doc! How often does a guy actually experience a ménage a trios? Let alone witness one?"

"Can you please set your mind, amoral as it is, to stopping that . . . stopping them?"

The pilot's eyes remained focused on the erotic scene before him. "Why? This is better than watching any old holovid. Sort of like voyeurism at its best."

The rage in the hologram's voice increased. "Lieutenant! If you pl . . ."

One of Tom's hands rose in the air, signaling the EMH to stop talking. His gaze returned to the ménage a troi, obviously in its last moments. The three bodies heaved a few more times before both Seven and Jenny released a loud, orgiastic cry simultaneously. Tom shook his head once more. Amazing! He returned his attention to the EMH and found himself alone.

"Tommy!" Jenny's cry returned his attention to the threesome on the bed. The Stellar Cartographer climbed off Harry and crawled toward the bed's edge. "Tommy, what are you doing here? Come to join us?" Her eyes sparkled invitingly.

Six years ago - hell, maybe even five or four, Tom would have eagerly accepted Jenny's invitation. Now, all he could think of was how he and B'Elanna could recreate their own version of what he had just witnessed. Only, how do you enjoy aménage a trois with two people?

"No, I haven't," Tom said in response to Jenny's question. He glanced behind the stellar cartographer and spotted Harry, struggling to sit up. "Hey Harry! I guess I don't have to ask how your evening went." His eyes rested upon Seven, stretching her body in a most suggestive manner. "Seven."

The ex-Borg responded with a husky, "Lieutenant Paris."

"You plan to join us, Tom?" Harry said. He wore what Tom would describe as a shit-eating grin on his face. "We could make it a foursome. Or maybe the Doc can join. I thought I heard his voice."

Tom shot a glance at the EMH. Who seemed to be pacing back and forth across Harry's living area in an obvious snit. "I don't think the Doc is in the mood, Harry. As for me," he faked a yawn, "I'm a little tired right now. I just left B'Elanna." Tom waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Harry's grin grew wider. "However, I did bring a little treat." Tom shook the carafe in his hand. "Neelix's version of Irish coffee. With his Valax." After a pause he added with a smile, "Just consider it as sort of a post-coital cocktail."

Ten minutes later, Harry, Seven and Jenny were sprawled across the former's bed. Unconscious, thanks to Neelix's "Irish coffee". Tom spared one last look at the trio, shook his head in disbelief. He could not wait for B'Elanna to hear about this.

"Okay Doc," Tom announced as he returned to the living area, "they're out cold. All we have to do is get Seven and Jenny dressed and . . ." He stopped at the sight of the holographic doctor still pacing across the floor. And now murmuring to himself. Tom frowned. "Doc? Are you okay?"

The EMH whirled upon Tom, stabbing the latter with dark, wild eyes. "Do I look OKAY?" Great, the pilot added silently. Just what he needed. A hologram in the throes of jealous dementia.

Tom took a deep breath. "Look Doc, this is really not the time to get a bad case of envy. So Seven slept with Harry. So what? She was drunk! Ten to one, she won't even remember what happened, tonight."

"Ugh!" The Doctor threw his hands in the air out of exasperation. "You do not understand! While under the influence of that . . . Valax, Seven turned to Ensign Kim and not . . ." He bit off his last words with a frustrated grunt.

Tom understood perfectly. Doc felt upset that Seven had turned to Harry for a little passion and not him. The EMH feared that the object of his desire secretly longed for the Chief Operations Officer. Then again, Tom remembered something that Neelix had said. "You know something, Doc? Neelix told me that Seven was looking for someone else, while in the Mess Hall. Maybe she was . . . well, in such a state of mind that she chose Harry, who was the first man available."

Dark eyes stared at Tom with disbelief. "Do you really expect me to buy that, Lieutenant?"

The pilot sighed and his voice hardened. "Let me put it another way. We have to get Seven and Jenny dressed and back to their quarters. And I can't do that without your help and the transporters down."

"There's always a first time," the Doctor replied with a sniff.

Tom shot back, "Okay Doc, this is an order. Help me get them dressed and back to their quarters. Now!"

"Considering Seven's state right now, I do not believe she would be able to stand up in her regeneration chamber."

"Then she can stay in Sick Bay!" Tom retorted. "Now stop weeping about like some spurned lover in a bad melodrama and help me get them dressed!"

His teal-colored shoulders slumped in defeat, the gloomy looking hologram heaved a large sigh and followed Tom back into the bedroom.


END OF PART 6

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