Title: Romancing the Peep

Author: Jungle Kitty

Contact: kittyjungle@earthlink.net

Series: TOS (Star Trek: The Original Series)

Part: 1/1

Codes: K/Brandt, m/m, humor

Rating: R

Feedback: Yes, please.

Archive: It's already there.

Summary: A sequel to "Where No Peep Has Gone Before" in which The Problem Is Solved. This takes place in a Kirk-Brandt alternate universe, outside of the overall storyline.

Notes: This is one in a series of stories about the relationship between James Kirk and Suzanne Brandt. The others are available at my website:
http://www.invisibleplanets.com/

The Star Trek characters and universe are the property of Paramount and Viacom. This not-for-profit piece of fan fiction is not intended to infringe upon that. The copyright applies only to the author's original characters and creative content.



ROMANCING THE PEEP
(c) Jungle Kitty 1999


"Jim! Wake up!"

"Hunh--"

"Don't move!"

"Are we still stuck? Ouch! You could have just said, 'Yes,' you know. You didn't have to show me."

"We have to *do* something. I'm on duty in an hour, and I have to go to the bathroom."

"I wish you hadn't mentioned that."

"I have an idea."

"I'm open to suggestions."

"I've been thinking... The best way to remove a band-aid is to just rip it off, right? So--"

"Brat, stop right there. I'm not open to any suggestion that involves 'ripping it off.'"

"Then I'm calling the paramedics."

"No! ... All right. What's your idea?"

"I think we should just bite the bullet and--"

"You really have a gift for painful metaphors, don't you?"

"On the count of three, let's just roll away from each as fast as we can. All right? ... All right?"

"I'm thinking. There *has* to be another option."

"There is. Call the paramedics."

"Do you think we can get them to keep quiet about this?"

"JT, if someone called you about this, would you keep quiet about it?"

"Damn. All right. On the count of three. One--two--"

"Wait! Is it one, two, three, roll? Or one, two, roll on three?"

"Roll on three. You ready? All right. One...two...thrEEEEEEE!"

"OWWWWWWWWW!"

"Shit."

"Shit."

***

"I'll call McCoy."

"No! Absolutely not! He's the biggest gossip in the Fleet--"

"Suzanne, he'll keep his mouth shut. I've got enough dirt on him to ensure that."

"Anything as embarrassing as this?"

"No, not exactly. But if you put all his peccadilloes together, they'd come close to this. Now let's just scoot toward the nightstand so I can reach my communicator. Ready?"

"Yes. Ow ow ow ow ow--"

"This would be--easier--Uhf!--if you'd--stop saying--Ow!"

"No--ow!--it wouldn't--Ow ow ow ow--"

"All right, stop. I think I can reach it."

"Owwwwww..."

"Quiet. Kirk to McCoy."

"McCoy here."

"Bones, it's Jim. I have a...problem."

"Where are you?"

"No! Don't let him come here!"

"Captain Brandt?"

"Hello, Doctor."

"Jim, what's the problem? I'm on leave, you know."

"I know but this is an emergency."

"All right. Give me your coordinates."

"It's not that kind of a problem."

"Jim, if it's just something you want to talk about, it can wait until after my leave."

"Bones...Suzanne and I are stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Together. Stuck together."

"Stuck together how?"

"How do you think?"

"Oh. Hmmm. I've heard of this but I've never encountered it before. Well, no need to worry. It's just a question of waiting until the muscles relax."

"Muscles aren't the problem."

"Then what *is* the problem?"

"Food."

"You can't be that hungry."

"No. We were...fooling around with food. Mostly sweets. *Sticky* sweets. Get it?"

"Got it."

"Good."

"Well, Jim, it's still just a matter of time."

"It's been over four hours."

"You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not."

"I can't imagine what would... What foods were you using?"

"Whipped cream. Champagne. Ice cream. Chocolate sauce--"

"Chocolate sauce? Was it fudge sauce?"

"Suzanne, was it fudge sauce?"

"No, just chocolate syrup."

"No, Bones, it was--"

"I heard. What else?"

"Why did you ask about fudge sauce?"

"It's not important. What else?"

"Cherries. Butterscotch--"

"Uh oh."

"Uh oh?"

"Butterscotch shares certain ... properties with fudge sauce."

"Such as?"

"Well, once we get you unstuck, your problems may not be over. I hate to tell you this but no amount of soap, hot water, or effort will remove hardened fudge sauce from, uh, unshaved parts of the body. I think butterscotch might be the same way."

"You *think*?"

"I can't say for certain but I have a little ... experience in this area."

"So how do you get it out?"

"You have to cut it out. Or shave it."

"Great."

"But first let's get you unstuck. Ice cream, champagne, whipped cream, chocolate sauce--I can see you weren't sticking to your diet--cherries and butterscotch. Is that it?"

"And a peep."

"Jim, I didn't copy that. Repeat, please."

"A *peep.*"

"A peep?"

"You know, one of those marshmallow--"

"I know what peeps are. I'm just wondering how they got involved in this."

"I thought it was a contraceptive sponge."

"What?"

"I'll explain later."

"No, I think you better explain now. How could you mistake a--"

"It was on the nightstand. I didn't look at it, I just--Well, I just..."

"You mean to tell me that you put a peep--"

"Yes. ... Bones? Bones, are you there?"

"Jim, can I call you back?"

"No."

"I--I really think it would be b-b-better if I--"

"Go ahead and laugh."

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! A peep! Oh, lord! That's too much! A *peep*-- I've heard some--HA!--ridiculous things-- BWAHAHAHAHA!--in my day but-- A PEEP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA--"

"Bones--"

"Ohhhhhh....ohhhhh, that's priceless. I would *kill* for a picture. Ohhh... A PEEP!"

"Bones, that's *enough.*"

"Wait until Starfleet Medical hears *this* one!"

"NO! Jim, I told you we shouldn't--"

"OW! Suzanne, let me handle this. Bones! BONES!"

"Y-y-y-es? Hahahahaha..."

"Now you listen to me, Doctor. If this shows up in your medical log--if you mention this to anyone--if you even *hint* at it--I'll re-open the investigation into that mix-up with the medical supplies."

"Oh. Oh, of course. Understood, Captain. Ahem. All right. You two just sit tight. Oh, sorry. Heh heh. I'll run a quick analysis and see what I can come up with. McCoy out. Heh heh heh. A peep!"

***

"Jim? 'Mix-up with the medical supplies?'"

"Ouch! If I tell you, will you lie still?"

"Yes."

"A few weeks ago, a box marked medical supplies broke open on the transporter platform. It turned out to be a crate full of Arcadian aphrodisiacs, Deltan pleasure inducers, and God knows what else. Bones hustled them out of there before I got a good look at all of it and Spock paged me to the bridge before I could pursue it. But the place smelled funny for hours."

***

"Kirk here."

"Jim, it's McCoy. I never would have believed it but those foods you used, when combined in the proper proportions, form the basis for Tri-Bond 2200."

"NOOOOO!"

"OW! Suzanne, be quiet. Bones, isn't Tri-Bond 2200 the glue that holds *forever*?!"

"Calm down. That's just an advertising slogan. There's a solvent. And it's one that you'll have no trouble applying."

"What is it?"

"Semen."

"You're kidding."

"No. Just finish what you started and you should be all right. Except for removing butterscotch from each other's pubic hair."

"Bones, from the way she's looking at me right now, I don't think I want her near me with a sharp object. OW!"

"Then I'll do it. *After* I finish my leave. And if you need any more help--Call someone else. McCoy out."

***

"Semen."

"That's what the man said."

"So if we'd finished--"

"Let's just finish it now."

"Ow! Jim, wait! I can't just--"

"You can't just what?"

"Could you take a minute and get me in the mood?"

"The *mood*? Brat, in case you haven't noticed, this isn't a romantic moment. And the only mood I'm in right now is bad. Despite that, I'm prepared to do what needs to be done. So if you need to get 'in the mood,' I'd suggest you do so *immediately*."

"I don't believe it! After putting me through hell--"

"This isn't my fault!"

"The hell it isn't! You were the one who wanted to use food!"

"You were the one who put the peeps on the nightstand!"

"You didn't even look at what you were putting inside me!"

"If you would have kept your mouth shut about the peep on my ass, I would have finished and everything would be all right!"

"*You* would have finished? I suppose that's all that matters!"

"Well, in this case, yes!"

"If that isn't the most selfish *male* statement--"

"OW! Stop hitting me! OW! Brandt!"

"What!"

"Are you in the mood now?"

"Yes, you son of a bitch!"

***

"Mmmmmm... OW! Ohhhhhh... OW! Ahhhhhhh... OW!"

"Jim! OW! Yes! OW! OW! OW!"

"Uh! OW! Ah! OW! Oh! OW! God, yes, that's--GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCK--SHHHHHIIIIIIIIT! ... Ahhhhh...."

"Owwwwww yesssssss..."

***

In a hotel suite overlooking the Golden Gate bridge, McCoy turned to his companion and chuckled, "I'm sure glad we don't have to worry about contraception. Apparently, it's a lot more dangerous than I thought."

"Indeed. And now, Leonard, if you will lay back, I will finish cutting the fudge sauce from your pubic hair."

As Spock bent over his work, McCoy relaxed against the pillows, inhaling the lingering scent of cinnamon and sandalwood potpourri. Then, listening to the gentle snipping of the scissors, he reached into the candy dish and smiled as he bit the head off the last of the peeps.


[The End]