Slight Transgressions by Miezchen

Tom was in the wrong place at the wrong time (again) and has to be rescued (again) from antique ideas of punishment, by the First Officer at that.

Categories: Chakotay/Paris Fanfiction Characters: None
Genres: First time
Warnings: BDSM
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 5413 Read: 1997 Published: 09/11/15 Updated: 09/11/15
Story Notes:


Feedback: Is highly appreciated at Miezchen(at)

Warnings: This is a slash story, man loves man, please don’t read further if you’re below the age of consent in your country or if you’re offended by such dirty thoughts, or, even worse, both. You will also find a little D/s and a spanking in this story. Oh, and this is my first story, and English is not my native language so consider yourself warned in this regard as well.


Disclaimer: Tom and Chak and all their belongings belong to Paramount and I am just borrowing them without making any money.


Archive: I’d like that, just let me know where.

1. Chapter 1 by Miezchen

Chapter 1 by Miezchen

Chakotay materialized in the Arbian court room and with a quick glance took in the scene before him. Tom Paris, the root of all trouble, stood in the middle of a semicircular table with his hands cuffed behind his back, while three judges in long red robes sat on their high-backed wooden chairs around him. In the corners of the big room and at each door a guard was posted, all of them very intimidating with their enormous ancient weapons.

The Commander strode towards the desk, intent on getting this over with as quick as possible and returning to his interrupted meditation. At his arrival frantic motion arose: Tom turned on his heels, relief plain on his face, although his trepidation was still clearly visible and caused him to stay silent. One of the Arbians in the meanwhile obtained another chair for the Commander to sit down, while the eldest came around the table­ to welcome him.

"Thank you for your immediate reaction to our calls, Commander. We want to solve this incident as fast as possible; as I'm sure it is your ambition, too."

"Yes, Your Honor, it is. Would you please enlighten me as to what has transpired? I need to hear all the facts in order to be able to decide on a viable course of action in the name of Voyager. So far we have only been informed that there was a breach of law by one of our officers."

"Have a seat please, Commander. Your *officer* broke quite a number of regulations, what we are about to try now. He will then be sentenced according to our standards. We hope you will approve of that."

The First Officer was impressed: this was the first person he had met besides Tom Paris who could make a title sound like an insult.

"We will approve of any appropriate punishment that doesn't endanger life or health of any member of our crew or cause undue delay in our journey."

Chakotay ignored the incredulous and definitely angry stare Paris sent in his direction. He probably had hoped Chakotay would just have them beamed up and flee... But it served him right, why did he always have to maneuver into the deepest shit within sight! The Commander focused his attention back on the three Natives, as the eldest began speaking.

"The first crime he committed was intruding in an area of restricted access..."

"There were no signs or guards! I couldn't have known that I mustn't..."

"Attention, Lieutenant!" Chakotay in turn interrupted him as rudely as he just had amid the enumeration of his crimes and let a satisfied expression cross his face at the immediate straightening of the pilot's shoulders.

"I am sorry for the interruption, Your Honor," the First Officer then turned back toward the three members of the council.

"As I said, this was his first crime. In the following he then knocked over a girl carrying a sack of coins and then touched the property of said individual. Before he went on he also touched that girl, a virgin up to today, on bare skin and also kissed her hand. Furthermore, he is guilty of hit and run, talking to and obstructing executory officers and calling for help amid apprehension. This makes a total of nine violations of law, which is not a low number." The prime judge finished and leaned back in his chair, obviously waiting for Chakotay to agree. The Commander, however, had a different course of action in mind, now that he had listened to the ridiculous list of ‘crimes'.

"With your permission, I would like to question the guilty party to achieve a balanced statement. This is the usual procedure in a federation trial."

"If you request, go on. But remember that the victim will just wish to justify his deeds."

"I'll bear that in mind. Mr. Paris, if you would elaborate your side of the... altercation?"

Tom sighed, and lowered his head, collecting his wits, before he stood at attention again in his best imitation of a perfect Starfleet officer.

"It wasn't an altercation, Commander, it was an accident. I've been visiting a market - and I didn't know then that it was off limits to me - and strolling around, when the little girl came out of nowhere and ran into me. She really wasn't looking out for her way, with that big sack over her shoulder she was way to occupied. Not that I blame her, of course, it was a fucking accident!"

"Lieutenant, watch your tone!" Chakotay wanted a short story, not a filigreed fairy tale or a detailed away mission report - he would have to read that later anyway.

Tom winced at the pissed off expression; the four men, especially the Commander, would have to decide about his fate.

"Sorry, sir. Anyway, I had a collision with the child. She fell and dropped her bag, and while she sat there and held the bag I gave her a hand in collecting the coins, because they were spread all over the place. When I was ready, I helped her up. And apologized, not that anything had been my fault, but it seemed appropriate, and yes, I kissed her on the hand, flatter her a little, you know. I asked her if she was alright or if she needed help and when she said she was fine I went on. Somebody had apparently decided otherwise, because suddenly there were four guards wrestling me to the ground. I admit, I've been rather... vocal, but that's only natural, don't you think? So I wanted to contact Voyager, and request an emergency beam out, because at the time I thought they were robbers or worse. Then they brought me here, told me the market was illegal and accused me of all sorts of - pardon - nonsense."

Chakotay sighed silently. Lots of trouble, and if Paris' version was true not even somebody to really blame. Now he had to be very diplomatic if he wanted to get them both out of this. He steeled his voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Paris. What is nonsense and what isn't please leave to my judgement."

The Commander then turned back to the judges, ignoring the virtual daggers the blonde sent him at his statement.

"From what I've heard, I've been able to trace back the events adequately; and I have to agree with Lieutenant Paris in one manner: All the crimes he is accused of aren't considered as such in our culture, some of his actions even are very polite. Nevertheless, we will bow to your judgement and support your decision as long as neither Voyager nor any crewmember will suffer any undue strain. Please only keep in mind that all of his actions were performed with the best intentions."

The eldest nodded and together with his companions stood up.

"Thank you for your support. We will take your wish into account as well. The council will now determine the punishment."

The council walked out of the room and left the two of them to wait together, with only the guards as remaining company.

Chakotay swallowed nervously and saw Paris reflect his action. If these aliens had such a twisted way of law and behavior, would their concept of punishment be the same?


Tom sounded nervous; Chakotay stood up and made his way around the table.

"What is it, Tom?" he sighed resignedly.

"I want to apologize. I don't know how I ended up here like this," he helplessly shook his still bound arms, "but I'll of course take all responsibility. Do what you have to in order to satisfy them, I'll survive it. I'm a Paris, and my father always told me that as a Paris I would survive everything, as long as I had the will to endure it. The problem is that I also inherited the famous Paris luck that kept throwing me into situations like these, where every shit in the universe decides to take a quick look and laugh at me. Or how do you think the best pilot in the Alpha Quadrant would end up captured by the federation otherwise? You know, the ship you gave me was quite a piece of junk, but it wasn't that bad, just my bad luck..."

"Tom, shut up. I'm not in the mood for your nostalgic idiocy."

Chakotay's anger was still clearly visible, and because of the lack of another target the pilot had to endure him. He thought about the possible outcome of their dilemma here. They could always beam out and run away as a last way out, even if that would undermine any of their attempts to appear friendly.

"May I ask a question, Commander?" The nervousness was still palpable.

"Ask away. Couldn't stop you anyway."

"How far would you go? I mean, I'm quite sure you wouldn't let them execute me, at least I hope so, but what would be the utmost you would let them do, or would help them do at least? I mean, not that it's any of my business, Commander, I'm just curious, you know, but..."

"Tom, stop babbling! I don't know what exactly I'd state as a limit, you'll just have to see."

"Please don't put me in the brig for too long. It would drive me crazy, the brig's a lot worse than Auckland. At least in prison I had my work to do, even if it wasn't flying, I got different and decent meals without any Leola root every day, and got to talk with others in there. The longest solitary confinement in a small cell I got there were four days, for insulting a guard and almost provoking an attack by a fellow prisoner at the same time; and it almost drove me crazy."

The blonde fell silent, obviously lost in his memories.

"Alright, if you insist I suppose I'll keep that in mind. I do not promise anything, you have screwed up again and you'll pay for it," Chakotay warned. He mustn't get in trouble with the Arbians over the correct punishment for misbehavior when they still had some negotiations to finish.

"Thank you, sir."

"You should have been informed where you are allowed to go and where not. And the cultural circumstances of the Arbians are also clearly outlined in the shore leave information," the Commander continued.

"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry, sir, but it all happened so fast, I didn't really have time to think, I mean, I read the PADD, but I didn't remember it all instantly, when the girl suddenly came I just acted. And I know, I shouldn't have gone to the market, but my sense of direction isn't the best, and so I ended up there accidentally and in the beginning I didn't even notice, there were just some people who were looking strangely at me, but I didn't assume right away I was wrong, so..."

"Spirits, Tom, could you please stop babbling?!"

The opening of the door kept them both from continuing. Silently the three elders moved to sit at the table and Chakotay joined them.

"The council will now announce its decision: Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris of the federation star ship USS Voyager will be sentenced to two weeks of restricted mobility and fifty strokes, administered over the first two days. We know this is a severe penalty, but we are hoping for your support, Commander."

"I fully understand the sentence, Your Honor, and can assure you Starfleet believes in penalties to maintain crew discipline. But is it possible to transfer the responsibility to Voyager, so we can keep our schedule and leave orbit in three days' time?"

"Chakotay, you can't let..." Tom's panicked voice interrupted again the First Officers' attempt at courtesy. What about the just made promise? Well, he had said he couldn't promise anything, but couldn't he at least try?

"Lieutenant, if you say one more word, I will personally ensure your brig time is doubled. Do I make myself clear?" The Commander's answering hiss was more threatening than a Klingon temper tantrum could ever be. The pilot didn't dare acknowledge the order except by a short nod of his head. The council elder then talked on as if nothing had happened.

"Yes, but we wish to ensure that our requests will be followed. Please let us move up to your ship and inspect the arrest area while I explain the details of the sentence to you."

"I'd be delighted, Your Honor, to show our ship to you."

With these words, the whole party got up and left the mansion through endless corridors into the garden, where Chakotay commed for a transport back up to the sky.


They stepped off the platform, Chakotay and the prime judge first, the still cuffed Lieutenant in the middle, and the rest of the council at the rear, seemingly preventing the convict from an escape.

The Commander continued their talk from where they had left off on the surface.

"So let me conclude this: He may move in a fifty-meter radius around his quarters, but no more, for the next fortnight, and will receive fifty blows within 48 hours. This way please," he then interrupted to show the way.

"But, Commander, this is..." Tom was confused. He had thought they would be heading for his quarters?

"How many times do I have to remind you to keep your mouth shut when I ask you to? I had thought you had learned that lesson in the Maquis. But apparently I have to remind you..."

"No, sir, I'm sorry, I'll be quiet."

Tom remembered all too vividly the numerous occasions on which he had wished to have a stand up job instead of sitting before the helm on his abused ass, and he didn't particularly care for a repeat performance, so he kept quiet and ignored the dubious comments and cat whistles from passing crewmembers the sign of himself in shackles elicited.

Just then they entered Chakotay's office and he was dumped in a corner while his ‘guards' discussed the details of his sentence. He didn't want to listen, he would have to endure it all anyway, so he let his mind wander. Why was Chakotay that angry with him? Yes, he *had* gotten into trouble again, but it wasn't his fault; it could have been anyone being in the wrong place at the wrong time! And he wouldn't let Chakotay paddle him again; more so, the Captain wouldn't let Chakotay paddle him as soon as he had told her. Tom sighed. Ignoring the council's decision would probably put an immediate end to the negotiations for the food stuff the so urgently needed, but he hoped his well-being would have a higher value than the little bit of lost time. They could always trade elsewhere. Nevertheless, he could already imagine the insults he would receive when his fellow crewmen found out exactly whose fault it was that still Leola root was the main dish instead of the delicious new fruits...

His musings were interrupted by the Commander, who stood up from the couch and politely accompanied their ‘guests' to the door.

"Thank you for showing your beautiful ship to us and explaining the importance of punishment in your culture. We trust that you will conduct our request and look forward to finishing our trade, hopefully without further accidents. We will leave your crewman in your capable hands. I hope we will meet again before you leave, it was very pleasant talking to you."

"The pleasure is all mine. Good bye."

"Gudd buee?" one of the Arbians questioned.

Chakotay smiled. "Good bye. A ritual phrase for bidding farewell."

"Ah, I understand. So, Good bye, Commander."

They exited into the corridor, where two security officers waited to lead them back to the transporter room.

As soon as the door had closed, Chakotay's shoulders slumped and he fell heavily back on the couch. "Finally. I thought they'd talk on until the day after tomorrow. Neelix is a quiet pleasure against them."

Tom snorted angrily. "Very funny, Commander. At least you didn't have to stand in the corner like a bad school boy. If you would now release these," he shook his bound arms, "I'll go see the Captain and ask her what she thinks about corporal punishment. Maybe you forgot, but we're no longer in the Maquis."

"Tom, please sit down."

"What if I don't want to?" He really only wanted to get out of this room.

"Tough. Sit down. I am not going to hit you, not now, not later. That was one of the only good points of ‘leaving' the Maquis, you know. I hated having to punish my own crew."

"Oh, but it's different with the traitor. I'm not one of your crew and haven't been for a long time, so there's no point in treating me like them. Just beat the crap out of me if some nutty aliens would like that."

"Tom! Shut up! *I* *am* *not* *going* *to* *hit* *you*! And nobody else is for that matter. And if you would sit down, maybe we could talk like adults."

Tom thought for a minute, but he could see Chakotay got angrier by the second, so he sat down beside him. But he couldn't really get comfortable with his hands behind his back.

"Eehm, Commander, could you..."

"You say nothing more now, you let me talk. Understood, Lieutenant?"

"Uhm, yes, sir." Tom gulped. Chakotay *was* angry.

"Good. Apparently you got a different impression, but I never had the intention of carrying out their demands. All I wanted was solve the issue diplomatically without getting either of us in big difficulties. That's why we're in my office, it's a lot smaller and more Spartan than your quarters, so the Arbians won't get the impression you'll be living in luxury during your sentence. Actually I assumed you'd think a little higher of me and get my plan, but it seems you didn't. I'm afraid I have to go through with the restricted mobility part, after all you *should* have known at least a little bit better down there, and the Captain and Tuvok will have to be involved, but that's it. The fifty meters from around your quarters include the bridge and sickbay, so there will be no problem concerning your duty shifts. And knowing you there'll be a couple of parties within your reach the next fourteen days."

"Wait wait wait, Commander. Are you telling me you played the whole part?" Tom's surprise was unmistakable. "Do you know the main reason the Captain didn't include you in the plan to find Jonas was that she didn't trust your acting abilities!" The blonde shook his head at the answering chuckle and wanted to run his fingers through his hair, but was once again reminded of the shackles.

"Commander, could you please *now* remove these damn cuffs, there are no more Arbians you have to impress, are there?"

"No Tom, there aren't. But I have to admit I like you with shackles, you're much more compliant. Sure you want them off?" The situation was too funny and perfect to tease the irreverent pilot a little.

"Chakotay, stop playing games, open them, now!"

"Watch out, I wouldn't offend the guy carrying the keys."

Again the younger man fell for his routine. "Sorry, Chief. Didn't mean to."

"Chief? Is that what you call me when I'm not listening?" Now he was truly curious.

"I'm sorry, Commander, no offense. I'll stop if you want." Tom squirmed uneasily on the couch. He couldn't really assess Chakotay's mood right now and didn't want to offend him in the position he was in.

"None taken. Hey, lighten up, you're not just compliant, you're all but submissive! I could get used to that."

He could see the blue eyes assess him warily.

"I'm not so sure I could. These shackles aren't exactly what I call comfortable." He really wanted to get rid of them. He'd tried blunt, now maybe subtle would work.

"I see, Lieutenant, would you like different ones?"

"WHAT?!?" No, subtle didn't work as well.

"Hey, calm down, I'm kidding. But it's quite nice to do so without getting my fair share back. I told you these cuffs make you submissive."

"I don't like submissive; did I tell you that?" Tom grumbled. "Do you want me to stop teasing you, is that your goal with this whole situation?" he then proceeded eagerly as if to contradict his statement from before.

"Sometimes, yes; but in general, hmm, no, I like it. You keep us all awake on the bridge, you know. What I want is something else..."

Without having planned on this attack, without even an idea in his mind as to why he did what he did, he leaned sideward and captured the pale face next to him within his palms. Forestalling any questions there might be, he pressed his lips to their counterparts and let his tongue seek out to force entrance into the mouth beneath his. After initial resistance the lips opened and he explored the depths of the wet hot cavern that was waiting for him. Only when the need to breathe became overwhelming, he slowly pulled back and broke the connection. A panting Tom Paris, face flushed and eyes dilated, stared at him.

"Wow. What... what was that for?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to stop?"

Chakotay couldn't entirely mask the insecurity he suddenly felt about forcing this kiss upon a subordinate, a shackled one at that.

"You're not gonna leave me like that, are you?" For a lack of hands available the young man gestured with his chin downward in the general direction of his groin while showing off a wide smile. Chakotay followed the motion and at the sight of the tented pants a wide shit-eating grin spread on his face.

"What could you do if I would? Leave you I mean?" he purred.

Tom scooted back at the hungry look in the First Officer's eyes.

"Umm... Nothing, I guess?" he nervously offered.

"That's right. You couldn't do anything at all." With a sudden grip he opened the pilot's trousers and held his erection, only held it, without moving a bit. Tom shivered in response, but with his bound wrists there was nothing he could do, he was completely at the Indian's mercy. And, strangely, at that thought his hard-on hardened even more, if that was possible. When a fingertip stroked the slit and spread the pre-cum, he hissed.

"Oh, Chakotay, pleeease, please, I need..."

"You need to be quiet," a seductive voice murmured in his ear. "No more words, understood?"

Tom tried to nod, but his hips bucked when warm air was blown at his member.

Chakotay smiled at the responsiveness of the young man and his smile widened when he saw how the lower lip was bitten so as not to emit a single sound. A wave of power surged through him and further narrowed the confinements provided by his own pants. He somehow simultaneously opened and removed his ones while he pulled down the pilot's until they were puddled at his ankles. In a frantic need he threw his new lover back down on the hard cushions and pulled at his shirt until the buttons flew in all directions, but didn't bother to take off his own uniform jacket. There was no time. When this first task was finished, he straddled the pale body lying on his couch and took his time to watch what lay before him. The eyes were closed, the by now puffy lips opened invitingly, the skin was of a deep red and the hard nipples stood out angrily. When he bent down to carefully suck and lick one of them, the erection beneath his ass rubbed through his cleft and he involuntarily groaned, along with the blonde owner of the cock.

Tom couldn't hold back at the delicious sensation of stroking between Chakotay's cheeks. He groaned and heard the answering grown, but suddenly the teeth on his right areola closed and dug sharply into his flesh. He screamed and bucked beneath the assault and nearly threw his superior of.

"Quiet, I said," a husky voice reminded him while a tongue lazily stroked the offended flesh. Tom wanted to scream, to shout his need out into the world, but he bit back all sound. The Big Man was right, he couldn't afford offending the guy with the keys, and even through the haze that inhabited his brain he instinctively knew that.

The bronze hands moved down the long slender arms, pinned beneath the pale body, while Chakotay raised himself until he stood beside the sofa. He then pulled his victim in a standing position as well.

"I believe we have some... unfinished business here. What if the Arbians would decide to check on you? Have a look at how well your ass got warmed up? I wouldn't like that, Paris," Chakotay whispered, letting the Captain persona have an appearance. "Bend over the table."

"But... Chakotay... you... you said..." Being caught by off guard, the Lieutenant couldn't fully suppress his partly amazed and partly angry reaction, what in turn earned him a well-placed tug on his straining member, which strangely hadn't deflated one bit despite Chakotay's change of character.


"Didn't I tell you to be quiet?" Maybe now was the time to hide the lover and let the Captain emerge in full force. Maybe his statement about not hitting had been a little hasty, there's many a slip twixt cup and lip.

The apprehension in the flushed face returned at that statement, the eyes opened a little wider and reluctantly Tom started stumbling towards the desk.

"Very good, now lean down, lay your head down, that is right. Now wait, I'll be just back." Step by step he aided the young man, before he went to get his leather bag, one of the few of his belongings which hadn't been blown into debris with his ship. He opened it and gazed benignly at the collection of tools. Ignoring the strap and the short whip, he took out the paddle and inspected it briefly. It hadn't been used for a long time, so maybe it truly was time again...

Decisively he strode back to the table, inspecting the lovely quivering flesh laying spread there. He took a step to the side, and without warning brought the paddle down with low force. The yelp his action caused had arisen more from surprise than real pain. Time for the next blow. While meting out the punishment, Chakotay admired the spreading color that was all caused by him.

Tom wanted to escape the next blow, but he couldn't. He would be caught anyway. If he told him to, he knew Chakotay would stop, but then this would be over, whatever *this* was, and he didn't want it to be. So he resigned himself to his fate and willed his body to relax to make the experience less painful. When the paddle came down the third time, he was surprised just how mild the blows really were, he didn't feel any severe pain at all, just a slight sting that brought along a delicious warmth. And he felt something else; every time another blow landed, his rear was pushed forward on the table and automatically slid back again; and at every move his cock was rubbed further. After the seventh stroke he uttered a full-throated moan and even pushed back toward number eight.

"You're doing verrry good, Tom. Just a few more..."

Another deep moan was the only answer.

"And number ten, here we come!"

Tom gurgled, groaned, screamed and trembled at the same time, as his orgasm hit and his knees gave in and let him collapse to the floor.

Instantly Chakotay let the paddle fall down on the floor and knelt beside his lover.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"More... more than alright. You've certainly... improved since the last time," came the answering groan. "You... you wanna do this again, any time, just ask..."

Chakotay chuckled. "I'm glad to hear that. Now get up on your feet, Lieutenant, we're not yet finished!"

"Yes, sir!"

By the time the pilot had managed to stand up with his hands flailing helplessly behind his back, he had regained his wits and proceeded to straighten his shoulders to once again represent the perfect naked junior officer.

His senior in the meanwhile walked around him in circles and inspected the lean form with obvious appreciation, his rank bar shining from the few leftovers of uniform he wore.

"You know," he began, "that this was just the first part of your punishment? That there will be fifty strokes in total?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And you know that you are completely at my mercy?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And you will do anything I say?"

"Yes, sir!"

Not that any of these questions had been necessary, but it was too much fun, for both of them, to not ask them.

"Then go down on your knees, Lieutenant."

Gracefully, his helpless hands notwithstanding, Tom folded his long legs and lowered himself to the floor. Chakotay took one last round and stopped his pacing to step up close to his lover. The soft lips were at exactly the right height to...

"Suck me!" he commanded.

Not bothering with another ‘Yes, sir' Tom took the enticing and already leaking erection into his mouth and sucked for all he was worth.

At the Commander's near-scream he grinned around the big rod in his mouth and gently let his tongue travel along its length. Back and forth he let it wander, around the tip, into the small slit there, and upwards again to the root. Had he had his hands free, he would have gently massaged the two dark balls in time with his caressing strokes, but as it were he could only use limited resources. So he lowered his head a little more, bent it backwards, and swallowed. The answering howl was the highest praise he could get and in satisfaction he started humming.

This was the trigger Chakotay had needed to explode and for long seconds he saw only white before his eyes. His hands intertwined with the curly blond strands and held on for dear life, pulling the attached head still closer, while he shouted without ever knowing what it was that came out of his mouth.

Tom happily swallowed all he could get until nothing came out any more. Still the hold on his head didn't loosen for as long as Chakotay needed something to hold on to to hold his balance. He cursed the handcuffs, only too willingly would he have held his lover now, enclosed him with his arms, offered support. Besides, his head began to hurt and he feared for his hair. Hours, it seemed, later the iron grip loosened and Tom felt the invader slip out of his throat and mouth and himself being pulled up in a bone-crushing embrace against a still uniform-covered chest.

"Thank you," a dark voice whispered in his ear.

"You're very welcome," he only replied.

For a long minute they just stood there, until the First Officer took a deep breath and pulled back slightly.

"Are you alright?" he asked, more out of obligation than real concern, because he knew that Tom would have told him by now if he wasn't.

"Sure. You could however do me a favor and finally remove these damn awkward handcuffs. How does that sound?"

With a smile Chakotay let go of his new lover, tipped a button on the manacles and proceeded to remove them.

"That's not too difficult, you know. You could just have done it yourself," he chuckled. "And if you had paid the slightest bit of attention: The Arbians told me this bit of information while you were standing there pouting in the corner."

"I was *not* pouting, I just wasn't inclined to listen to your pointless ramblings."

"Whatever. Now get a move on, we still have to clear this situation with the Captain and I would recommend a shower beforehand. Separately."

"Yes, sir," Tom grinned, his best saucy grin on display.

With that, he sashayed towards the tiny office bathroom, complete with tiny shower for overworked First Officers, and left his personal First Officer standing in the middle of the room, following him with his eyes.



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