By Rabble Rouser
(c) 2000
Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. This not-for-profit piece of fan fiction is not intended to infringe on that ownership. The author's copyright applies only to the creative content and hir original characters.
NOTE: This story is TOS AU (which is what I consider any story where Spock uses girly-talk endearments)
SUMMARY: An innocent bottle of Hydogen Peroxide is tortured and abused.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: This story was instigated by JK's evil breaking of her word I'd be contacted by telemarketer. I therefore intend to file suit for breach of contract. Meanwhile I am submitting this under fear of court order, telemarketers and worse--threat of a forced mind meld with Judith Krantz.
I bet you think I'm simple and easy. After all no one can accuse someone who consists of a one to one ratio of Hydrogen to Oxygen of being complex. Well let me tell you it's not easy to keep myself together. A little exposure to light will turn me into nothing but water. Oh you laugh! But after all I was created for a purpose. To fizz. To foam. Ah to fizz!
I'm Hydrogen Peroxide. But you can call me HO.
I had heard of those two. I mean c'mon I wasn't manufactured yesterday! When I came aboard I was put into a whole cabinet of gossiping lube tubes before the yeoman brought me to Spock's quarters. Need I say more?
Those two go at it like Teringian DevilWomps. Day in and day out. And one of them runs the ship? I may be in a dark bottle but I'm not blind--or deaf.
"Lasha, Golden One, release me from this torment"
Well--it could be worse. There was the time one of them crooned that Sarah McLauglan ditty. And the guy with the pointed ears actually listened with this rapt look on his face. Now that's love.
Personally in my experience, when two men go at it they skip a lot of the preliminaries--well, they don't usually talk that much. I'm telling you after a while it got boring. Same thing every single time. First endearments that should cause anyone to use something stronger than me as a gargle, a lot of nibbling at the ears (is it something ab. them being different shapes?), then swapping of saliva which should definitely require them to gargle. Yech. I tell you I could hear the bodice-ripper narration in the background:
Spock languidly circled one rosy nipple with his tongue as Jim groaned in ecstasy deep in his throat. The sound vibrated deep within him and he played Jim like an instrument, stroking his rib cage and causing Jim to tremble as he sent a trail of fiery kisses lower...lower...
About as exciting as vanilla. My brother Hydrogen Chloride got to be in Chekov's quarters -- and man the action there! Now I ask you. Is that fair?
I should have known it was coming. I think even they got bored after a while. Because they started pouring in some interesting substances down the crack. Well, actually down the captain's since he always seemed the "bottom" of that pairing. Ketchup. Plomeek Soup. The "golden one" kept moaning like some girl pretending to come so there must have been some kind of chemical reaction going on between what they were pouring down the funnel and the lube.
Well they finally got around to me. By then I was happy to get some action. The elf poured me down a funnel. As I hit the lube, I expanded as I burst into foam and fizzed!
Have to admit it was good to get in some revenge for having to listen to all those Sarah McLaughlin tunes.
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