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Goldilocks and the Threesome

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Maintaining a stable relationship within Starfleet could be hard work – some likened it to negotiating with Klingons. Arranging shore leave together for a little 'quality time' could be even harder. When it involved the ship's captain, chief science officer and chief medical officer, it was that much harder to keep a relationship going – and getting shore leave together was damned near impossible.

Even when they did somehow manage to get away together, it never seemed to last long enough. There was always something, some disaster or conflict that required their immediate attention. It was always the same: months of juggling schedules and careful planning, gone in the blast of a photon torpedo.

It was always nice to be needed, of course, but sometimes a boy – or three – just wanted to get laid without having to sneak around or rush to do it. Sex on a medibed was only exciting the first twenty times. Even quickies in the turbo lift got dull after – Well, quickies in the turbo lift never got dull. But they could be exhausting – especially while pulling double shifts.

After three or four botched attempts at a romantic getaway, the three gentlemen in question decided that drastic measures were called for. They would plan a secret getaway, making sure no one knew how to reach them. And if disaster should strike the ship in their absence? Well, the remaining crew members would just have to find a way to cope without them – and hope that they didn't lose too many red shirts in the meantime.

"Captain? A word, please."

"Certainly, Mr. Spock. What can I do for you?"

Spock raised one dark eyebrow but didn't speak until the yeoman had passed and they were alone in the hallway.

"Shall I make a list?"

Jim grinned and swatted his lover playfully on the arm. He knew that if he said, "yes," Spock would actually make a list – possibly with diagrams. If he wasn't so strapped for time...

"Seriously, Spock," he said, "I'm already late for a meeting."

"I was wondering if you have found a satisfactory solution to our... problem."

Jim laughed. "You don't have to be coy," he said, "There's no one else around."

Spock's nostrils flared but he resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. "Jim," he said, "As we have previously discussed – on several occasions and in great detail – the likelihood of our shore leave being disrupted increases exponentially with every person who learns of it. That was why we agreed -"

Jim placed a finger against Spock's lips to silence him. "No one is going to find out."

"I feel I must point out," Spock's lips continued to move against Jim's finger, "That discussing our plans in the open in this manner is almost certain to-"

Deciding his finger wasn't doing the work properly, Jim leaned in and silenced Spock with a quick kiss.

"It's been taken care of," he promised.

But Spock was not so easily swayed. "Forgive me for sounding skeptical," he said, "But if I recall correctly, the last time you uttered those words, Leonard wound up tied to a tree on Risa covered in-"

Jim grabbed him and attempted to kiss him senseless. With a Vulcan, that took a whole lot of kissing. He pressed Spock up against the wall, sliding a knee suggestively between the other man's legs.

"Trust me," he urged. He left a trail of light kisses along Spock's jawline as he rocked his hips against him.

"Jim..."

"You do-" Kiss, kiss. Grind. "Trust me," Kiss, kiss. Grind. "Don't you?" He finished by nibbling on the tip of Spock's oversensitive ear – a trick that he knew would drive the Vulcan wild. Spock, predictably, while arching his back in pleasure, still attempted some level of control.

"Yes!" he ground out between clenched teeth.

Jim laughed, a husky, satisfied sound. He didn't know for sure whether Spock was agreeing with him or just crying out but it didn't matter. Either way, he'd won.

He broke the kiss and took a step back, enjoying the way Spock blinked rapidly, struggling to bring the world back into focus.

"See you tomorrow then!"

Under normal circumstances, Jim would love to stay and watch Spock wrestle to control his rising passion but, thanks to a surprise "medical examination" from Dr. McCoy, he really was late. He started to walk away but had taken only a few steps before Spock called him back.

"Jim?"

He looked back to where Spock still leaned against the wall, his dark eyes burning with desire. Jim stayed right where he was. If he went back now, he would never make it to that meeting.

"Still late, Spock."

"What is our destination?"

"Destination? Well, I'm going to a meeting with the Deltan ambassador and you're going- "

"For our shore leave," Spock reiterated, raising one arched brow. "Where will we be traveling to for our shore leave next week?"

Well, he had told him not to be coy. Still... He glanced up and down the corridor to make sure they were still alone.

"I told you," he said. "It's a surprise."

"It would be prudent to know where we are going so that proper preparations can be made." Infallible Vulcan logic, as always.

"Yes," Jim agreed. "It probably would. But it would also ruin the surprise." Spock opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Jim broke in. "And, besides," he added, lowering his voice a fraction and smoothing out the tone, "the likelihood of our shore leave being disrupted increases exponentially with every person who learns of its location."

Spock raised his eyebrows at Jim's impersonation. "I was not referring to myself when I spoke of discretion."

"You might let something slip in front of the wrong person," Jim teased, knowing full well that his straight-laced lover would do nothing of the sort. Spock never did anything "on accident."

"I am not the one most likely to let accidentally let something-"

"When are you getting at, Spock?"

Spock replied innocently, "Me? I am not 'getting at' anything." The Vulcan's mask of cool indifference remained firmly in place but his eyes were full of mischief.

"I am simply reminding you of the habit you sometimes develop of becoming overly loquacious after an alcoholic beverage."

"Or ten," he added under his breath.

'To hell with the meeting,' Jim thought. He stalked toward Spock purposefully, intent on dragging the man off and giving him a severe "tongue lashing" for his impudence.

"Uh... Lieutenant Commander Spock?"

They both turned to face the young officer that had somehow managed to approach without their noticing. His eyes darted nervously between the two senior officers.

"Yes, Ensign?"

"Could I have your assistance? That is – uh – if you're not busy?"

"Certainly. Captain? If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course." Jim waited until they reached the turbo lift to call out, "Oh... Mr. Spock?"

Spock glanced over his shoulder. "Yes, sir?"

"I want that list on my desk by twenty one hundred hours."

"Yes, sir." The grin that lifted the corners of Spock's lips was almost imperceptible. "I will be most thorough."

"You do that." As the turbo lift doors slid shut, Jim laughed. He was still laughing as he walked away.

When the corridor was quiet, a grate swung open and Chekov poked his head out of the ventilation shaft he'd been sent to inspect. A mischievous grin spread across his face.

So... The captain was planning a romantic getaway with his boyfriends, was he? He'd see about that...