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Mischief Managed

Posted on Fri Aug 3rd, 2018 @ 6:00am by Stephen Spires & Lieutenant Mara Ricci

Mission: Preflight
Location: Spires' Quarters
Timeline: MD 42; 21.00

After a long day of repairs and adjustments and telling off a science ensign who had tried to make his own repairs, Mara wanted nothing more than to head back to her quarters and pick up a good book.

However, that was not possible, because she had just discovered vandalism in the form of a heart with "alohamora" written inside. "Spires!" she hissed. "Computer, what is the location of Stephen Spires?"

=/\=Stephen Spires is in his quarters.=/\= came the reply.

"Show me," she ordered and immediately, the running lights along the floor lit up. She followed them to the civilian area of the ship, ignoring anyone on her way until the lights stopped at a door. Angrily, she pressed her thumb to the chime and waited.

Stephen Spires lay sprawled across his sofa in naught by "athleisure" shorts. He had a lot of information compiled about the ship, but very few leads. His nose told him there was more to be had than the idle rumors and gossip. If only he could find it.

When the chime came to his door, he made to grab his robe. But then he thought better of it. He took care to maintain his physique, and while he didn't consider it his greatest asset, nothing was hurt by using it. Males and females of all orientations were more likely to cooperate with someone who fit within social idyllic standards of attraction.

"Come in," he called out.

And Mara did. She barely noticed his state of undress and instead glared at him, hands on hips. "Vandalism, now?" she demanded. "The cameras weren't enough, were they? You had to go writing all over the walls, too!"

Stephen grinned like the cat who ate the canary. "Whatever do you mean?"

“You know exactly what I mean!” sneered Mara. “The little drawing you left on the bulkhead outside my office!”

"Ah." Stephen lolled his head back and chuckled. "I was wondering if you'd ever notice that." He looked down at his bare torso, then looked up with an enticing smile. "And now here you are."

“Yes, to tell you to stop defacing my ship!” she replied, ignoring his bare, muscular chest. Stop it, Mara! she told herself. Focus! “I should report you!” she added.

Her struggle to avoid ogling him did not go unnoticed by Stephen. He sat back down on the sofa, arms spread wide, hands draped over the back. "And what would that report say? That I charmed my way into your heart?"

The grin on his face dared her to deny it.

"You're about to charm your way into Azka- the brig!" she corrected. He was so infuriating! Hot, but infuriating. Stop it, Mara! You're supposed to be telling him off, not gazing at him like a lost school girl.

"How's that?" he asked, his face wrought with mock concern. "You're the one in my quarters." Stepping forward, he let free his desire for her. "We're off the record. No one but you and me, Mara. And this."

He reached inside a small courier container on the coffee table and held up a Golden Snitch.

"Come and take it, Seeker."

"Stop trying to change the subject," she snapped weakly, almost without conviction. If she were perfectly honest with herself, she would admit that the reason she came here was to take that Snitch and everything else he was offering. But, she was too proud to admit that. "You- you'll clean it up!" she demanded, tearing her eyes away from the snitch and meeting his eyes again. "And if I find any more, I'm going to blame you, even if it's childish stick figures in crayon!"

Stephen let the Snitch drop to his feet as he closed the distance between them. "I think we both know that you secretly like my stick figure. Can I tell you a secret of mine?" He leaned forward, just as he had the other day, and whispered, "I like you too."

Mara glared at him. He was on her last nerve and she didn't like it. She also liked it, which was extremely confusing. She had never at once hated and wanted someone so much. Her eyes went dark half a moment before she closed the distance and pressed her lips hard against his. "Off," she ordered, tugging the waistband of his shorts.

Another victory. Stephen fanned an inward spark of smug self-aggrandizement before he let the feisty little engineer have her outraged and angry way with him. His time would come soon enough.




Later that night, upon dim lights and clothes strewn to the four corners of the room, Stephen lay breathless next to Mara. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had so thoroughly wore him out. This little spark-plug was insatiable. Rolling back over to look at her, Stephen grinned his spent pleasure at her.

"I didn't know you had all that in you," he said.

"Not many men do," she replied, finally sated. She stretched her legs out as long as they could go and pointed her toes. "It's a very exclusive club."

Stephen ran his hand along her body, admiring the touch as well as the sight of her curves. "You know, I'd hoped we end up this way. From day one." He regarded her, then chuckled softly. "There was just... I dunno, something about the way you carry yourself. In charge, but not full of yourself." He ran an admiring glance down her body once again. "And not to mention you're hotter than hell."

His hand slid up to her shoulders and the back of her neck where he could pull her closer. The smell of her hair made him hum with satisfaction.

She had to admit, the touch of his hands was nice. "I can't say the same," she admitted. "I hated you. Probably still do. But, damn if that wasn't fun."

"Anytime." He smirked at her and wriggled his eyebrows. "And, if possible, anywhere. Your quarters, my quarters, your office, the holodeck, the VIP mess hall after hours, the arboretum..."

He descended into a fit of teasing laughter.

This time, she did roll her eyes. "Oh, brother," she said, pulling herself out of the bed and gathering her clothes. "Don't get too far ahead of yourself."

"Over so soon?" Stephen pretended to pout.

"Admittedly, I haven't done this much, but staying over isn't normally part of a one-night stand, is it?" she replied, beginning to dress.

Stephen favored her with a devilish grin. "Oh, if you put it that way. We'll just save it for next time."

She gave him an icy glare. "Who says there'll be a next time?" she asked.

"Who says there won't?" Stephen countered.

Her glare intensified. "Keep it up," she warned. "You're just lucky there's nothing I can throw at your head."

"Last time you said that, you wound up polishing it." Stephen couldn't hold back his laughter at the remark.

That did it. She leaned close to him, eyes dangerous. "Shut it," she said. "Or I'll cut it off next time." She then pulled her shirt on and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots.

"Aww, sweetheart, no need for that -- you only gotta' ask if you want to borrow it." Stephen did take a few safe steps back.

The only nearby object to throw was a pillow. It would have to do. She grabbed it and threw it as hard as she could at him. It wouldn't do any damage, but it made her feel better.

Stephen clicked his tongue. "Oh, that wasn't very nice. I'm afraid you'll have to leave now." Another grin snaked back across his face. "Don't come back until you're ready to play nice again."

Having finally successfully tied her boots, Mara stood. "So, never then," she said. She shrugged into her jacket and flounced out the door.

It wasn't the first time a woman had fled his bedroom in righteous indignation. And he suspected it would not be Mara's last. "Never say never," he said to the now empty room.

 

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