VOY: Torres/Kim; Rated R
"That two-timing bastard!" B'Elanna swept into Harry Kim's quarters like a whirling Vulcan sandstorm. "I swear, if he even dares to come dragging himself to my quarters tonight, I'll . . ." Evidently what she would do was too horrific to mention because she trailed off into a jumble of muttering and growling.
"Um, B'Elanna, I'm not sure what you're talking about." Harry felt like he'd stumbled into the middle of act two of a three-act play.
"That lying, cheating, son of a Targ, Tom." She stopped in the middle of the room, fists clenched in anger. "I caught him, just now, in the mess hall screwing behind Neelix's little bar area." Her chest was heaving with righteous indignation. "To think that he'd cheat on me with him!"
"Tom is. . ." For some reason Harry was embarrassed, and couldn't finish the sentence.
"Yes, Harry, read my lips: Tom is right now having sex with Lt. Ayala in the mess hall." B'Elanna started pacing, clenching and unclenching her fists. "All the time I believed him when he said that I was special, that what we had was different from anything he'd felt before."
Harry was at a loss for words. He just stood there silently, still not quite able to grasp what the angry half-Klingon had told him.
"You know what, Harry?" B'Elanna asked. She stopped pacing and walked over to his table. With a broad sweep of her hands she sent everything on top of it crashing to the deck.
"B'Elanna, what are you doing?" Harry finally found his voice.
Instead of answering she stalked up to him, grabbed him by the front of his tunic and head-butted him.
"Ow, shit!" Harry cried seeing stars flicker before his eyes.
When his vision cleared she was dragging him across the room to the table.
"I want to have sex with you," she said in a no-nonsense voice, pushing him back onto the table and starting to unfasten his trousers.
"What? B'Elanna you're not thinking clearly." Harry tried to reason with her while unsuccessfully fighting off her roaming hands.
"Wrong, Harry, I'm thinking clearly for the first time in a long time," she countered. She ripped open his shirt, her lips tracing an erratic trail down his chest. "I want you to fuck me," she mumbled against his navel.
"Fuck me!" she shouted, climbing onto the table and straddling him, her hips grinding against his.
Harry didn't have to be told a third time.
= = = = = = = = =
The next morning . . .
The EMH raised his eyebrows and gave Harry a long look.
"Oh, nothing," he said, loading a hypo with the proper medication and dose. He applied it to Harry's arm.
"So I'm free to report for duty?" Harry questioned.
"Yes, none of your injuries are serious," the doctor replied. As Harry hopped down from the biobed he added, "But they're nothing compared to what Lt. Paris will do if he finds out."
"Finds out about what?" Harry feigned ignorance.
"I'm more observant that most of the crew gives me credit for," the doctor said in a slightly haughty voice. "Your injuries are consistent with those incurred during Klingon sexual practices - I've treated Lt. Paris for almost the identical injuries on two occasions." He smirked at Harry. "I simply put two and two together."
"In this case it adds up to five," Harry muttered. "I'm late for my shift," he said a bit louder, heading for the door.
"Suit yourself," the doctor called out after him, "but I'll reserve a biobed in your name just in case."
= = = = = = =
"So I told him we were through."
"He accepted it?" Harry couldn't quite believe that Tom would react so calmly to a blow to his ego.
"He didn't have much choice," B'Elanna shrugged, sitting beside Harry on his couch. "I threatened to tell Neelix what I'd seen them doing in his kitchen. You know what a big mouth that Talaxian has - it would have been all over the ship within an hour."
"You, didn't, um, tell him about us, did you?" Harry wasn't keen on being the recipient of belated hostility on Tom's part.
B'Elanna shot him a puzzled look. "I may be reckless but I'm not stupid." She scooted closer and nibbled his ear. "He'll find out eventually, but there's no need to hurry it along."
Harry could feel his body responding to her attention. "Do you want to try to make it to the bedroom this time?" he asked in a low voice.
The sudden pain from her teeth on his earlobe made him flinch. "I guess not."
Harry heard the sound of ripping cloth and gave in to the inevitable. Before this relationship was over he figured he'd either have to learn to sew or bargain with the captain for more replicator rations.
B'Elanna's nails raked down his chest, leaving angry red furrows in their wake.
His last coherent thought before he surrendered to the waves of desire coursing through his veins was that it might be a good idea to ask the doc for his own personal dermal regenerator.
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