[main] - [updates] - [my fanfiction] - [recommendations] - [livejournal] - [about me] - [miscellaneous] - [guestbook] - [webrings]

Captain Matthew Gideon entered sick bay and spoke briefly to one of the medical technicians before heading over to the bed where one of his team lay lightly dozing. "Max, how are you?" he asked, startling the man awake.

Max Eilerson blinked up at the captain for a moment, then his expression changed from one of confusion to one of annoyance. "Oh, I'm fine, Captain, all things considered... May I make a suggestion that the next time I tell you an inscription is a warning, you pay some small bit of attention to me?"

Gideon arched an eyebrow at the man and asked, "Do you remember how you got here?"

Max frowned briefly, and for a moment Gideon wondered whether his annoyance came from inability to remember or if his lack of reaction had scored a hit. Then the archaeologist shook his head and said, "I'd assume the usual way; someone picked me up and put me in a shuttle, it flew back up here--"

//Smartass,// Gideon thought, then he smiled very slightly and said, "When the room started caving in, you pushed me out of the way, getting yourself trapped in the rubble..."

"Well, I certainly hope you don't think I did it to save you out of any kind of loyalty or friendship," Max answered coolly, disappointing Gideon by his lack of outrage, "I only did it so that you'd be alive for me to tell, 'I told you so'..."

"Oh, believe me, Mr. Eilerson, I would never expect something like loyalty or friendship out of you," Gideon answered, an edge of coldness in his tone now, "Although for an intelligent man, you seem to pick some of the stupidest reasons to risk your life..." He felt a twinge of regret at his words as a flash of hurt showed in Max's blue eyes, but it was gone so quickly he wasn't sure if he had imagined it. "I'll leave you to get some rest," he said, turning and heading for the door.

Just as he reached it, Max asked, "Captain?"

He stopped, turning back to look at the archaeologist, "Yes, Mr. Eilerson?"

"You're welcome," Max said, his tone making it more than obvious that he knew Gideon never had thanked him.

Gideon had to concede the point, acutely aware that the verbal fencing match had gone on long enough. He looked down for a moment, then up at Max again. "Thank you," he said softly, then he walked out of the room.

Once Gideon was gone, Max sighed and allowed himself to sink deeper into the pillow, the need to keep up appearances now past. //Damn Gideon anyway,// he thought viciously, //the next time he can just save his own damned life...// He swallowed hard, more irritated with himself for allowing the discussion to upset him than he was with Gideon's reaction -- or so he told himself...

Gideon locked himself in his quarters and stripped out of his uniform on his way to the bathroom, letting articles of clothing lie wherever they fell. He stepped into the vibe shower and stood there, allowing the sound waves to pummel him until he felt numb. //God, I wish I had a real shower!// he thought as he staggered out of the chamber and to his sink, where he splashed cold water on his face and chest in an attempt to wake himself up a little. He finished up in the bathroom and padded to his bed, deciding that waking up was a lost cause. For a long moment he stared at the wall panel where the Apocalypse Box was hidden, resisting the urge to take it out and ask it anything. Right now, he didn't want to hear what it had to say -- didn't want anyone's advice about the things lurking in his subconscious...

He sat heavily on the edge of his bed and fell back, throwing his arms out to either side. //Just what is it about Eilerson, anyway?// he thought, annoyed at both the archaeologist and himself for continuing this stupid game. But, there were times when he just wanted to shake the man until some sense made its way into that brilliant mind -- and then, there were times when he wanted to shove him against the wall and--

//--and what?// he thought, suddenly realizing where his wandering mind was going. "Christ -- where the hell did that come from?!" he muttered, sitting up and glowering down at his stiffening cock.

For an instant, his natural curiosity made him want to investigate his reaction and what had caused it, but then rationality kicked in and he squashed it, turning his attention to willing his erection to fade. After a couple of minutes of visualizing himself wading through waist-high icy cold water, forcibly steering his mind back on track when another image threatened to intrude on him, he heaved a sigh and stood up. "Okay," he muttered, "I think I need to work off some stress..."

He walked to his closet and pulled out his sweats, grabbed up the socks and underwear he had recently discarded and dressed before he could think too much about what he was doing. //Who needs sleep, anyway...//

Dressed for a workout, he headed out of his quarters again, walking down the hall at a brisk pace. He rounded the corner on the way to the transport tube and walked headlong into his first officer, Lt. John Matheson. "God, John, are you okay?" he asked, grabbing Matheson's shoulders to steady him, "I'm sorry."

"Uh -- I'm fine, Sir... I--" Matheson blinked and shook his head slightly, then took a step back in an attempt to break the physical contact.

Suddenly realizing he was still gripping Matheson's shoulders, Gideon released him and let him step back. "Sorry..." he muttered, smiling slightly as he saw the colour rising in the telepath's cheeks. "Is there anything that needs my attention, Lieutenant?" he asked, "If there isn't, I'll be in the gym -- I'm feeling a need to work out."

Matheson nodded once with a slight smirk, and said, "Yes, I guess so..." When Gideon smiled again, he blushed even more and said, "No, nothing that needs your attention, Sir. Should I make sure it's a private session, or is there someone you'd like me to have meet you there?"

"Don't even think it, Lieutenant," Gideon said with mock threat in his tone, "I don't want to have to hurt you..."

"Of course not, Captain," Matheson said, fully recovered now, "And if I see Mr. Eilerson, I have absolutely no idea where you are..." He sketched a brief salute and continued on his way, ignoring the poisonous look Gideon shot him on the way past.

Gideon continued down the corridor, berating himself for his lack of control. //Of all the people to run into, it has to be the one telepath in the crew... I don't even want to know how much of this he picked up on...// he thought, uncomfortably aware that he was going to have to examine his feelings -- at some point. //Just not now.//

***

After a night of observation -- one far too long for all parties concerned -- Dr. Chambers released Max with a clean bill of health. Just as glad to be free as she was to be rid of him, he returned to his quarters and checked out his gear that had been brought back from planetside. Once he was certain that nothing had been left behind or damaged beyond repair, he sat at his desk and pulled out his journal and pen.

He jotted down a brief record of what had occurred on the planet, including Gideon's determination to continue despite his warning, then paused and leaned back in his chair, gently tapping the pen on the journal page. //Silly man has absolutely no sense of self-preservation...// he thought, trying to visualize what had happened. //Yes,// he thought, reviewing events in his mind's eye, //I did push him out of the way -- Gods, what an idiot!//

And then he realized that while he was still envisioning Gideon, the image in his mind's eye had very little to do with the cave-in. Instead, it was the Gideon of his fantasies, dressed in his original black Excalibur uniform and that black leather jacket that fit so nicely across his broad shoulders... "Oh... not this again..." he murmured, even as he closed his eyes and leaned back further. //What's the use in fighting it when I don't really want to?// he wondered, imagining Gideon's hands on the arms of his chair, pinning him in it as the captain leaned down and growled something lewd in his ear.

The feral look in Gideon's eyes was enough to make Max shudder with desire; when Gideon nipped his neck he gave a soft cry and squirmed slightly -- and was startled out of his fantasy by the sound of the pen clattering to the floor.

"Oh god..." he panted, looking around to make sure he was still alone. "That definitely won't do."

He sat up and tried to calm his breathing, then leaned down to pick up his pen. "This has got to stop," he muttered, looking at the journal page for a long moment. Then, very carefully, he began to write a private note, penned in a code he had derived long ago from parts of various alien and earth scripts:

"One bloody unthinking, selfless act -- always the worst kind, or course -- and I've given myself away. Exposed myself to the one person who could do me the most harm -- the one who really matters. In saving Gideon, in risking myself, I've shown him I can care about someone other than myself -- given him a weakness he can exploit; given him a way in..." He paused briefly in writing, thinking, //After all, it's not like he hasn't already proved he'll exploit anything he can... Wonder if he watched the entire vid collection, or just stopped at the ones with the aliens fucking women...//

He shook his head and resumed writing: "Damn him -- what do I do if he finds that being in the same room with him makes my head spin, makes me weak in the knees -- that every time we pass in the corridor I desperately wish he'd grab me and pull me into a room and fuck me senseless?"

He was about to put pen to paper again when the com beeped. He looked at the screen and asked, "Yes?" with as much bored annoyance as he could manage.

Lt. Matheson's image appeared onscreen, and he said, "Mr. Eilerson, you're wanted in the conference room."

Max sighed and made a show of capping his pen and closing his journal, making sure Matheson knew he had been in the middle of something important. "I'll be there shortly, Lieutenant," Max answered, shutting off the com before he could say anything in return. //Here we go again...// he thought, packing pen and journal into his field pouch and grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

"... use a little more caution," Gideon said, looking up as Max entered the room. "Ah, so nice of you to join us, Mr. Eilerson. Have a seat," he added, motioning towards the only open seat in the room. Max glanced that way with distaste, noticing that their sometimes-resident Technomage had returned, and was brooding in the seat next to it.

Reluctantly, Max made his way to the seat and settled into it, then looked up at Gideon and said, "Am I to assume that we're going back down to that planet?"

"Yes, we are," Gideon answered smugly, "While you were recovering from your injuries, some of the crew continued searching -- and cleared out the rubble from the booby-trapped room. They managed to find a vault." He smiled to himself as he saw Max perk up at this news, amused by his sudden eagerness. "Dureena managed to get the vault open without causing any further cave-ins, and--"

Max cut in, "You found something -- what did you find?"

Galen smiled and met Gideon's gaze, said, "There, Matthew, I told you he'd be interested..."

"I thought you were going away for a while," Max muttered. Then he asked, "Well, what did you find?"

"Scrolls," Gideon answered, watching with amusement as Max's eyes lit up.

"Scrolls, plural," Max mused. "How many -- no, never mind how many -- has anyone done anything to preserve them? Did you test the air or do anything else to find out how long they'd been sealed up? I've got to get down there and start scanning them before the air you've so thoughtfully exposed them to starts to destroy them!"

"Do try not to find any more deadfalls, Maximilian," Galen said, smiling as Max bristled.

"We're ready to go now, if you are, Max," Gideon said, trying not to show what would be extremely inappropriate amusement as the two men glowered at each other.

"Just let me get the scanning equipment and I'll be ready," Max said, standing and heading for the door.

"Meet you at the shuttle, then," Gideon said, slight amusement in his tone as Max breezed past him and exited the room. Then he glanced around at the others and said, "Well, I guess the meeting's over -- dismissed."

The rest of them filed out until just Gideon and Galen remained, at which point Galen walked up next to him and softly said, "Matthew, I think you're being too lenient with him."

Gideon frowned and met the Technomage's gaze, then immediately broke the eye-contact before Galen had a chance to read his expression. "Come on, Galen, he's going to be a pain in the ass whether I let him or not -- this way I just expend less energy arguing with him. Besides, he's right. We need to get those scrolls either into a protected environment, or scan the images before they get too badly damaged."

"Of course, Matthew," Galen said. Then he canted his head to one side and said, "After all, I would never accuse you of going soft on him..."

Gideon's eyes snapped back to Galen's, and he said, "Good." Then he relaxed slightly and said, "Come on, we should get to the shuttle," and turned to walk out, leaving Galen standing in the conference room, wondering exactly what nerve he had hit this time.

When Max arrived at the vault, he discovered the situation wasn't as bad as he had assumed -- his remaining staff had already begun carefully cataloging the site and scanning the scrolls, working gingerly to avoid damaging the delicate skin they were constructed from. There was a canister nearby for temporary storage of the completed scrolls, until they could either reseal the vault or otherwise protect them; when Max looked into it, he found they had already finished one.

"So, how's it going?" he asked, standing and carefully walking around the vault examining the walls for carvings or paintings.

"Fairly well," one of them answered, looking up at him, "How are you feeling, Mr. Eilerson?"

"Fine, just a little less inclined to stand near the walls of this place," Max answered, eyeing the floor stones suspiciously.

"We did a full scan once we got in here -- it looks like there's a weak area there," the other archaeologist said, pointing out a corner where a column of stones rose from a larger block, "Around that large block. We don't think it's another trap, but..."

"But if we need anything from that area, you can get it," Max said with a smirk. "Okay, hand me one of those scrolls so we can get this done as quickly as possible."

Max's IPX team worked well into the night, scanning all of the scrolls and then studying and scanning the walls of the vault. There were no carvings, no signs of ornamentation at all, and even the clay chest the scrolls had been discovered in was simple and plain. The scrolls, on the other hand, were penned in a script that was ornate on its own, and embellished in beautiful rainbow shades of an opaque ink that held some iridescence. Max took a tiny sample from an area of one of the scrolls that wouldn't destroy any of the delicate writing or embellishment, and sealed it and an equally miniscule sample of the skin in two small vials for later analysis. "Okay, it's past my bedtime. You two finish up here, and I'll take these scans back to start interpreting them. If you have any trouble, I'm sure Gideon's keeping some of the troops here to keep an eye on us."

As he returned to the shuttle, he yawned mightily and thought, //It's so good to have assistants...// He knew he was going to have to wait until the next day to really work on the scroll scans -- he may have recovered enough to be out and about, but his head was really starting to ache again and concentration was completely out of the question. He prayed that he wouldn't run into Gideon -- or even worse, Galen -- before he had had at least a few hours of sleep -- right now, he just wasn't in condition to deal with either of them. He even stretched out and let himself doze on the trip back to the Excalibur.

When he got back to the ship he headed straight for his quarters, the throbbing ache increasing as his tiredness increased. He ducked inside and carefully deposited his equipment on his desk, then headed into the bathroom where he dealt with necessities. He avoided a shower, expecting that the sound waves would make his headache even worse, settling instead for washing his face and running some cool water over his hair. He towel-dried his hair gingerly, then scrubbed the towel over his face and sighed into it. Half asleep already, he stripped out of his clothing, neatly folding his trousers and throwing his shirt into a hamper; then walked back to his bed and slid under the covers. Realizing that he was inviting an interruption just as he really got comfortable, he heaved a sigh and grabbed up his communication bracelet. "Eilerson to Bridge," he spoke into it, waiting impatiently for a response.

"Bridge here," came the answer. He was relieved when he recognized Matheson's voice. "Is there a problem, Mr. Eilerson?"

"I'm sure the shuttle pilot told you I was back onboard. I left the rest of the team planetside to let them finish up, but I had to come back and get some sleep. Please tell the captain that I will start translating the scrolls first thing tomorrow, but right now is just out of the question."

"What's wrong, Max?" Gideon's voice answered him. He sounded slightly concerned...

"Captain, it's nothing serious," Max answered, praying for a quick end to the conversation. "It's just that my head is about to come off, and I just need to get some sleep before I--"

"That's okay, Max," Gideon said, his tone softening in sympathy, "I know how head injuries can be. Don't push yourself -- just get some rest. If you'd like, I can have Dr. Chambers check on you."

"No, thanks, I just need some sleep. Goodnight, Captain," Max said tiredly, putting the comm bracelet down and sinking back into the pillows. He was asleep in an instant.

Gideon stood in the doorway, watching silently as Max scrutinized an image on his screen and tapped a pen against his pursed lips. The little frown that creased his brow suddenly faded and his blue eyes lit up, and Gideon knew he'd made some kind of breakthrough. As Max bent to make notes in his journal, Gideon backed out of the lounge, determined to keep from interrupting him just yet. Max wasn't the kind who took well to nagging, and Gideon was painfully aware of that. He was also painfully aware of the fact that he had been paying far more attention to the way Max looked, the way his curls seemed so soft today, the way his blue eyes sparkled when he figured something out...

//This is really bad,// Gideon thought, turning away completely once he was out of line of sight, //I've got to be nuts.// He walked briskly down the hall, realizing he was heading for the bullet car tube. //Yeah, that's a good idea -- just get away from it all for a bit...//

Hours later, he received his first progress report from Max, and although he tried, he couldn't help sounding disappointed when the archaeologist told him that the first sets of scrolls he had translated were the equivalent of a cookbook, and a detailed description of that race's methods of ritual sacrifice... He told Max to keep up the good work, and contact him when he had more information. The day carried on much as any other day, the IPX team returning in the afternoon and giving him their report, much of which didn't interest him in the least. The fact that it didn't seem like the civilization on the planet had ever encountered the Drakh plague significantly lowered his hopes for the information Max was translating, and his second report bolstered that opinion.

Max took a break around early evening, remembering that he hadn't eaten all day, and joined the main crew in the lounge for dinner. There, he shared some of his discoveries, but agreed with Gideon that most likely this race wouldn't be able to help their mission much. "But," he reminded, "I do still have one set of scrolls to read -- we shouldn't leave orbit until we're completly sure..."

"Of course, you're right," Gideon agreed, looking upon it as a necessary evil. Even so, Max seemed to preen at his words. //God, what an ego,// he thought, watching as Max performed for the audience.

He just leaned back in his chair and observed, seeing no real reason to rein him in. He was actually quite entertaining to watch as he told them what he had learned so far about this advanced race who still performed ritual blood sacrifices to their gods, despite their extensive scientific knowledge. According to Max, they sounded quite a lot like the ancient mesoamerican cultures of Earth, including the extent of their mathematical and astronomical knowledge.

After dinner, Max returned to his quarters to work on the last set of scrolls, and the rest of them returned to their normal duties.

It was about 02:00 when Gideon finally gave up the pretense of trying to sleep. What little sleep he had managed to get had been punctuated by erotic dreams that he knew he really shouldn't be having. He dressed in his sweats and walked out of his quarters, just needing to get away from things again. He wasn't in the mood for a workout this time, or a frustrating attempt at basketball -- he knew it would just serve to irritate him further, and right now it wasn't good for him to be irritated.

//This has got to stop,// he thought. //I can't keep waking up horny every damned night, and I can't justify heading off to Babylon 5 just to scratch an itch. I've got to get myself under control!//

After a while of just walking, managing to avoid most of the late shift crewmembers, he found himself standing outside the lounge, staring at a table where Max Eilerson sat, working away at his computer. //Cursed,// Gideon thought, //I must be cursed...//

Just then, before he could flee, Max looked up and saw him. "Oh, Captain, I didn't expect to see you until morning! Come on in -- I'm nearly finished here, anyway."

Reluctantly, Gideon entered the room, stopping a short distance from the table. He saw that the image on the screen was divided, on one side an image of more writing from the alien scrolls, and the other side the translation that Max was refining. "So, is there anything we can use?" he asked, unable to sound too hopeful.

"Well," Max drawled, glancing at Gideon to gauge his reaction, "There's medical information here, but I really doubt it's anything you're looking for..."

"Try me."

"Temptations, temptations," Max muttered.

"What was that?" Gideon asked, unsure if he had imagined what he thought he'd heard.

Max looked up the instant Gideon questioned him, unable to hide his stricken expression as he realized he had voiced his thoughts.

The panic was only there for an instant, but it was long enough for Gideon to make note of it. //Most interesting,// he thought. Then the expression was replaced with a classic Max Eilerson smirk.

Max never denied he had spoken, he just avoided the question completely, focusing instead on the ornate writing of the scroll on the reader.

"Well, this one seems to be... a sex manual, Captain. There's nothing at all about the kind of medicine we would need to combat the plague."

Gideon cleared his throat and said, "A sex manual."

"Yes, and quite detailed, at that," Max commented with a smirk. Until he once again realized exactly who he was talking to and schooled his features. //No, it just would not do to mention sex -- especially not alien sex -- around Gideon,// Max thought, uncomfortably reminded again of the debacle with his data crystal.

"A sex manual..." Gideon muttered, taking a step or two away and staring into the middle distance. Just as Max was growing impatient, he spun on his heel and said, "Are you telling me that all we got out of this was a cookbook, a cultural history, a how-to of ritual sacrifice, and 'The Joy of Sex'?!"

"Don't forget 'The Joy of Lesbian Sex', 'The Joy of Gay Sex', and 'SadoMasochism 101'..." Again, it was out of his mouth before he thought about what he was saying. Max stared at the screen, fully aware of the close scrutiny he was getting. //I feel like a Drakh virus under Dr. Chambers' microscope,// he thought, feeling Gideon's stare burning into him.

//Something to distract,// he thought almost desperately. //Ah!// He stood, boldly meeting Gideon's hazel eyes, and said, "Of course, I should know by now not to expect you to understand the importance of this find, especially the cultural history..."

Gideon's temper flared -- the incident with Natchok Var was still fresh in his mind and Max's words brought a pang of guilt he didn't need to be feeling.

He advanced on Max, jabbing an index finger at him, the fact that he was backing the other man into the wall not registering on him. "Now that's a fine thing coming from your lips, Max. The only reason someone like you is interested in a cultural history is so you can scavenge any inventions they mention in it!"

Max surprised him into silence for a moment by grunting as he backed into the wall. The tip of his index finger was pressed against Max's chest, where he could feel the man's heart racing. He looked down at his finger, realizing he had been jabbing at the IPX logo on the shirt; then he met Max's blue eyes.

The instant their eyes met, Max moaned, "Oh gods..." and sagged back against the wall, defeated.

At least, that was Gideon's first impression. However, a subtle difference struck him and his eyes widened in shock.

Not defeat -- surrender.

Lust thundered through his veins as Max swallowed hard and then took a deep breath, his lips parting invitingly. Gideon flattened his hand against Max's chest, sliding his fingertips down into the unbuttoned neckline and gently fingering a nipple; savouring the moan that escaped as Max arched into his touch. He advanced the half-step further, pressing up against Max and sliding a knee between his legs, feeling the growing erection.

"We going do this right out here where anyone can walk in, or are you going to at least drag me back to your quarters?" Max murmured in his ear, trying not to show how eager he was for it, wherever Gideon took him.

Gideon pressed harder against his groin, the groan Max tried to repress threatening to destroy the last of his control. "I ought to fuck you right here on one of the tables, for anyone who walks in to see. Let them know I really am the one in charge..."

Max shuddered with desire, painfully aware that he would let Gideon do that if he really wanted to. But... "You wouldn't do that, Captain," he murmured breathlessly, "after all, some might think you were abusing your position..."

"And we wouldn't want that..." Gideon growled in his ear. "Not that I would have to order you to do a damned thing, would I?" He reached up with his other hand into Max's hair, grabbing it and turning his head so that their lips met.

He plunged his tongue into Max's willing mouth, kissing him brutally until Max began to make whimpering noises. Then he released him and smiled slightly as he gasped for air.

"Oh god, will you just fuck me already?"

"You want me to, huh?" Gideon asked, his smile broadening.

"Yes, yes, I want you to," Max said, knowing he should never have admitted it but just too hungry to pretend otherwise.

"Good." Gideon backed off suddenly, eliciting a badly concealed whimper from Max. "Meet me in my quarters in fifteen minutes, and don't let anyone see you," he ordered, his blood singing as he took in Max's disheveled, flushed appearance. Then he turned and walked out of the lounge, heading for his quarters without a backwards glance.

Max let out a shuddering breath and stepped away from the wall, tried to adjust himself to ease the discomfort of his aching erection. He walked to the table he had been working at and hurriedly began packing up his computer and notes. His thoughts whirled -- Gideon had all but given him a way out of this -- he could just not show up, and thereby prove that Gideon was wrong, that he wasn't the one in control... Except...

//Except I want him so bad it's driving me insane,// Max thought unhappily. //If I go to his quarters, I'm confirming everything he suspects about me, but I want to go...// He shuddered again, knowing that he was inviting disaster. Gideon would have more than enough leverage from this point in, to use any way he damn well pleased. It was a terrifying prospect -- it also sent a delicious little shiver down Max's spine when he thought about it, and that was even more terrifying... //At least we don't like each other,// he thought, heading out of the room. //That kind of tie would be intolerable...//

It wasn't until Max was down the corridor and out of hearing range that a shadow detached from the wall. Galen stood in the lounge, staring at the place where Gideon had backed Max into the wall, seething with anger. His usually cool blue eyes nearly glowed, and if any of the crew had seen him at that moment, they would have run in fright. "Damn you, Maximilian," he murmured, "What kind of corruption have you exposed him to?"

Max stopped at his quarters long enough to drop off his equipment and journal, locking the latter into a desk drawer and hiding the key in a secret pocket of his brown leather jacket. Then he headed for the door, pausing before he reached it as he remembered something. //Clothes -- I really should have a change of clothes, just in case I'm there long enough that I need to be ready for morning.// He hurried to his closet and grabbed a pair of trousers and a new IPX logo shirt, then to his dresser for socks and underwear. //I can't believe I'm doing this...// he thought, stuffing the clothing into a field bag and slinging it over his shoulder. This time he breezed out the door and down the corridor, praying that no other crewmembers were out and about at 03:00.

He was greatly relieved when he made it to Gideon's quarters without encountering another soul, although many times during his walk he got the distinct impression that he was being watched. He even went as far as ducking back after he rounded a corner and waiting to see if someone came along, but no one did. He shook his head, chiding himself for being paranoid, and continued again. And then he was at Gideon's door, staring at it for a long moment before he steeled himself and rang the chime.

He heard Gideon's voice order "Come," and could easily envision the sly smile that went with it, then the door slid open.

//He already knows he's got you, Max, get in there before someone sees you...// He took a deep breath and stepped into the room, a shiver skittering down his back as the door slid closed behind him.

"Glad you're here, Max," Gideon said, stepping forward to take the field bag from Max's shoulder, trying not to laugh at the 'deer in the headlights' expression on the archaeologist's face. "Would you like a drink?"

Max swallowed convulsively and blinked, then answered, "Just some water, thank you..." He looked around, thinking that everything looked much as he expected it would, except for the fact that the lighting was dimmed, and Gideon had changed from the sweats back into his uniform. The old uniform, with the black trousers that fit so nicely and the deep red turtleneck shirt that went under the black over-tunic, which, Max noticed, he wasn't wearing. Instead, he wore the black leather jacket, partially zipped so that it accentuated his trim waist and broad shoulders. Max swallowed again, realized he was staring but unable to look away.

"Yes, I thought as much," Gideon said smugly as he handed Max a glass of water. His knowing smile sent another shiver through Max, who tried to hide his reaction by sipping the water.

After a swallow of water, Max said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course not," Gideon answered, "and you weren't drooling at the sight of me in this outfit, either." At Max's outraged expression, he smiled again and altered his stance slightly, going from relaxed and casual to military-straight. "I could order you into my bed right now, and you'd gladly do it..."

Max frowned and took a deep breath, wanting desperately to deny it, but knowing it was true -- there was only one fantasy he indulged in more often than that, and that one he really doubted would ever come true...

"So, what'll it be, Max, would you like to sit and discuss this, or..." Gideon trailed off suggestively.

"I -- ah... Maybe this was a mistake," Max began, putting the glass down on Gideon's desk and reaching for his field bag. Gideon's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, held him immobile with frighteningly little effort.

"And that's exactly what I thought you'd say, too," Gideon purred, backing him into the wall of the narrow corridor connecting the 'living room'/office section of the quarters with the bedroom. Max murmured something he didn't quite catch as he hit the wall, and Gideon squeezed his wrist harder. "What was that?"

//Please don't make me say it...// Max shook his head slightly, squeezed his eyes shut. Gideon squeezed again and he whimpered a little, his knees trying to buckle. For an instant, he thought letting himself fall to his knees might be a good thing to do, then his pride kicked in again and he straightened. "It'll take more than that to own me, Captain," he said as haughtily as he could manage with his voice husky with desire.

Suddenly Gideon was on him again, pressing him into the wall and grabbing his crotch, strong fingers squeezing his erection through his trousers. "Believe me, Max, there's plenty more where that came from..."

//Yes!// Max arched into him, tilting his head back and trying desperately to restrain a moan, which turned into a cry of surprise when teeth fastened on his neck. Gideon didn't bite hard enough to hurt, but Max suspected there would be a mark come morning. When he looked at Gideon, planning to chide him for marking above the collar, Gideon leaned in close and hissed, "You know that's easy to hide, Max, don't be a baby. You want me to mark you, I will; you want me to fuck you, I'll do that; you want me to hurt you, I can do that, too. Just know one thing, Max, don't play your little games with me, because I'm better at them than you are."

Max stared into his eyes, trying to discern whether this was part of the game, or if it was a serious warning. He decided, for the moment at least, to take it as such -- he had no doubts that Gideon could top him in just about every way imaginable.

"So, Max, what'll it be?" Gideon asked calmly, giving his erection another squeeze, then stepping back and releasing him completely.

//Damn you...// Max thought, looking down. "Fuck me..."

"What was that?"

"Fuck me, please..." Max said, hating himself for caving in so easily. //Just don't make me beg... you know I will, just don't make me do it...//

"You want more than just fucking, don't you," Gideon said knowingly. "Safeword or not?" Max's eyes snapped back to meet his gaze, trying to read him and failing miserably. Gideon's smile broadened as Max shook his head very, very slightly, and again he purred, "I thought as much."

//Oh. God,// Max thought, helpless under Gideon's scrutiny. //I'm dreaming -- this can't be happening...// And then Gideon was grabbing his shirt and pulling him in, leading him down the narrow corridor into the bedroom; holding him still as he shut the screen and hit the privacy lock, then shoving him backwards onto the bed.

Gideon studied the man sprawled back on his bed, seeing the impressive erection straining against the tailored trousers, the way his legs splayed open; the way he was panting for breath, his eyes following Gideon's every move... //God, I can't believe I'm thinking of doing this, but he's so goddamned sexy like this!// Part of him was alarmed by the intensity of the lust and hunger burning in his blood, but he ignored it, much more interested in the expression on Max's face. His smile turned predatory as he climbed part way on the bed, his left knee between Max's legs, then he reached out and pulled Max's shirt up and out of his waistband.

Max hissed and arched into his touch as Gideon slid his hands up his torso, zeroing in on his nipples and pinching them mercilessly. He groaned, feeling the slight pain spark its way straight into his groin, his cock throbbing almost painfully in its cotton prison. He bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from saying something -- trying to keep from pleading with his tormentor. He raised his hands, intending at first to begin stripping Gideon, until he realized that the leather jacket was so close he could smell it. Instead, his hands dove to his own belt, fingers fumbling at the buckle in his hurry to open it. Before he could, though, Gideon fastened his strong grip on his wrists and pulled his hands away from his trousers.

"No, Max, not yet..." Gideon chided, "Don't make me tie your hands." He shook his head at the hungry look Max gave him, knowing he would have no end of trouble and interruptions now until he did just that -- or until he distracted him. "Although I am being awfully cruel, aren't I... Okay, strip off your shoes and pants, I'll give you that much." He released Max's hands, but when Max tried to sit up so he could remove the shoes, he frowned and said, "I think you're forgetting something..."

Max stared at him for a long moment, weighing the possibilities and deciding that he still didn't want to know how much of it -- if any -- was a bluff. "Thank you, Captain," he said softly, relieved when Gideon stood up and backed away enough for him to reach his shoes. He hurriedly removed them, then turned his attention to stripping off his trousers, wishing Gideon had given him permission to remove his underwear, too.

Once the trousers were off, he could feel Gideon's hot gaze settle on his crotch; could hear Gideon's soft murmur of approval. He smiled smugly, well aware that he was generously endowed (and painfully aware that he was completely erect). Then Gideon leaned close again and said, "The shirt, too. Get it off, now."

He swallowed hard, hurriedly stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside; shivering this time as Gideon looked him up and down, the predatory grin growing slightly darker -- and hungrier.

"Very nice," Gideon purred, looking Max over. He wasn't completely fit but he was still nicely built, with a heavy dusting of sandy hair across his broad chest. There were a couple of scars that piqued his curiosity, but, knowing Max, asking about them would be too personal. Instead, he reached out again to run his hands all over him, reveling in the sensual way Max writhed into his touch. //You're such a fake, Max,// he thought, //Don't need anyone, don't want anyone, too good for all of us, huh? Just how long have you been fantasizing about me, anyway?// He smiled crookedly, then climbed onto the bed and pinned Max, making sure the leather of his jacket was in contact with Max's rosy nipples. Just as he expected, Max surged up against him, grinding their cocks together, panting hotly.

Even as he reached up to grasp sandy hair and steer their lips together, he could feel Max's hands roaming all over his back, his shoulders, down to his hips. Max groaned into the kiss, his breathing becoming more and more ragged. His hands slid from Gideon's hips to cup his buttocks and force their bodies closer together as the tempo of their movements increased. Gideon frowned and broke the kiss, grumbled, "You are not going to get cum all over my uniform, mister..."

Max smiled up at him and continued what he was doing, wrapping one leg around Gideon's legs to reinforce his grip; then tilted his head back and groaned, and challenged, "So stop me, then..." This time it was Gideon's turn to moan, as Max increased his attention to his buttocks. His cock was as hard as Max's, and the friction of their bodies against each other was maddening -- and growing just a little painful. It would be so easy to let himself come, but then Max would have the advantage, and he couldn't allow that...

He leaned all of his weight on Max for a moment, long enough to move his hands down near Max's sides, then he pushed himself up off him, pulling free of the confining leg with a bit of difficulty. Max grabbed for him, fingertips brushing the jacket before he edged out of reach. Max's disappointed expression was almost comical, but he kept his expression cold and said, "Watch yourself, Max -- you know I don't always play fair..."

"Yes, I do," Max admitted, looking Gideon up and down, his eyes lingering on the impressive bulge in his pants.

//You're drooling again, Max,// Gideon thought, watching him for a long moment before shrugging out of his jacket. For a moment he thought Max was going to protest, then he pulled his shirt off, too, and Max just stared at him instead.

Max smiled slightly, studying the lean musculature of Gideon's upper body -- despite the lack of bulk, Max could tell Gideon was strong; the kind of strength that brawlers underestimated because he didn't have arms as thick as their thighs. Then his hands went down to his belt, and Max's attention was riveted back on his erection. He unfastened his belt, unzipped his pants, and eased them down past his slender hips revealing black briefs barely containing his cock. Max swallowed hard, thinking about what he wanted Gideon to do to him with that magnificent organ...

Gideon toed off his shoes, then stepped out of his uniform pants, leaving them on the floor where they fell. Max made an appreciative noise, and Gideon saw him slide a hand into his underwear to grab his cock. "Tsk, tsk, Max," Gideon said, stripping off his briefs and stepping closer again, "You're such a discipline problem..."

Max smiled and said, "You're the captain, do something about it..." Then he groaned and eased himself into a more comfortable position on Gideon's bed, gently squeezing his balls as Gideon came closer. It was all he could do to keep from licking his lips as he watched Gideon's cock bob with his movements.

Gideon saw him bite his lower lip and swallow, and thought, //Perfect reaction, Max...// Then he leaned in close and grabbed Max's legs, hauling him lower on the bed. "I plan to do just that," he purred, climbing onto the bed to straddle Max.

Max tried to protest his unceremonious repositioning, releasing his cock in an attempt to free himself or at least struggle a little with Gideon, until Gideon climbed further up the bed and that magnificent cock was right in his face. "Oh god..." Max whispered, looking at it, then up at Gideon's face.

"Suck it, Max," Gideon commanded, moving his hips so that the head of his cock bumped against Max's lips, smearing precum across them. For a moment, Max resisted, his lips compressing into a thin line as he held his mouth shut. He glowered up at Gideon and shook his head, Gideon's cock sliding along his cheek as he did so.

Arousal was making Gideon's head spin -- //Must be all the blood diverting away from my brain,// he thought, nudging his cock against Max's lips even more insistently. Sudden wetness against the head of his cock sent a shiver through him, and he realized the tip of Max's tongue had darted out and lapped at the next drop of precum. //One more like that and I'm likely to just lose it all over his face...// Gideon thought, and then his mind melted as Max captured his cock in his mouth.

He felt the questing tongue probe at the slit, then very carefully ease his foreskin back before Max closed his mouth around the head and began sucking in earnest. Blue eyes burned into his and the heat in that gaze told him everything he needed to know: Max had done this before, and -- as usual -- he knew he was good at it.

As a matter of fact, Gideon realized, if he didn't take control of the situation soon, he was going to be helpless... He bent so that he was on all fours above Max, then began to force his cock deeper into its wet haven. At first, he could feel Max struggling, trying to get into a better position; then his throat relaxed and he took the entire length in, a deep moan reverberating through it as he felt the force with which Gideon was thrusting.

"Yeah, that's such a good boy, Max," Gideon whispered, "You're pretty good at sucking cock, aren't you..." He groaned and thrust again, fucking Max's mouth forcefully, feeling how eagerly Max took him. He looked down between them at the look of near-rapture on Max's face, and lost what little bit of control he had left.

Max moaned around his mouthful as Gideon's thrusts became wilder, more desperate; animal growls coming from deep in his throat adding to the look of feral lust Max saw when he caught a glimpse of his face. The taste and scent of him was driving Max wild, and he sucked as hard as Gideon fucked, unwilling to give up all control quite yet. He knew he was good at this, and wanted Gideon to know just how good -- he wanted to make the captain scream like a wild thing...

Soon -- it would be soon -- Gideon's thrusts grew shorter and sharper, his cock growing that impossible bit more as he growled and dug his fingers into the mattress -- and then he was roaring his pleasure as cum shot down Max's throat, the explosion seeming to go on forever; lingering much longer than he had expected it to as Max's tongue and teeth and throat muscles milked every last drop out of him. It was all he could do to make shaky arms and legs obey as he backed away a little so he didn't fall on Max when they gave out...

"Goddamn, Max," he groaned, looking at the smug look Max gave him. //Cat that swallowed the canary indeed...// he thought. Then he looked down at Max's cock, realizing that he hadn't come alone. //Well, at least that'll calm you down 'till I can recover,// he thought, trying to keep Max from knowing exactly how good it had been.

Max rolled onto his side and looked him over, the smug smile broadening as he saw Gideon's expression. Very softly, he asked, "May I take my underwear off now, Captain?"

"Go ahead," Gideon answered, relieved to feel strength returning to his arms and legs, "but don't think that behaving yourself now will save you from any punishment, Max..."

"No, Sir," Max answered, smirking slightly as he lifted his hips long enough to slide the underwear down, then relaxed back onto the bed and slid them the rest of the way off; grimacing just a bit as he realized he had to bring them back to his quarters for cleaning. He mentally shrugged, then, and dropped them onto the floor. When he turned back to look at Gideon again, he found the captain looking him up and down, studying him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, Max, just thinking..." Gideon evaded, smiling again as he got the desired response.

Max swallowed convulsively and asked, "About?"

Gideon's smile grew more predatory, but instead of answering, he grabbed Max's wrist and tugged, growling, "Roll over, Max. Now." Max gasped, startled by Gideon's roughness but eagerly compliant nonetheless. As he settled himself more comfortably, Gideon sat up and lightly stroked his back, his touch growing lighter the lower he got.

A shiver rippled through Max as Gideon's teasing fingers brushed back and forth right over his tailbone. He groaned and spread his legs further, Gideon's fingers dipping teasingly between his cheeks. "Oh yes," Max whispered, wrapping his arms around the pillow he was resting on and propping himself up slightly. Gideon smiled as he wriggled a bit, trying to adjust his cock as he began to grow aroused again; then just as he was growing used to the soft stroking, SMACK!

Max yelped as Gideon brought his hand down, hard, on his asscheeks. But, Gideon noticed with pleasure, he didn't jump out of the bed or try to escape; instead remaining on his stomach. Before he could say anything, Gideon slapped him again, enjoying the sound of skin contacting skin. Max flinched and grunted, and Gideon noticed him spread his legs just a little more. A shiver of lust went through him, and he knew that his hand would not be enough to satisfy either of them.

"Wait here, Max," he ordered, "I need to get something." He climbed out of bed without even looking to see if Max was obeying; knowing that he was and excited by that knowledge.

Max turned his head to watch as Gideon walked back to their discarded clothing and picked up his uniform trousers. Frowning briefly, he dropped them and went for Max's trousers instead. //Oh god...// Max thought as Gideon pulled his belt out of the beltloops and folded its length in half. Then Gideon looked up at him and gave him a knowing smile, and tested his improvised flogger against his palm. Max groaned and buried his face in the pillow for a moment, unwilling to let Gideon see how eager he was; all the while knowing it was too late to hide it.

And then Gideon was climbing back onto the bed, and whispering into his ear, "Your own belt, Max -- I know leather makes a much better impact than cotton web..." Max shivered in response but said nothing as Gideon used the folded leather to stroke the insides of his thighs.

Max sighed as Gideon continued to caress his thighs, his legs spreading wider as Gideon slid the folded leather down between his legs to tickle his balls. He buried his face in the pillow again, moaning as the sensation sent shivers through him. He could hear Gideon's soft murmur of approval, and then abruptly the leather left his skin. He steeled himself for the blow, but Gideon paused just long enough that he relaxed. The belt came down on his thigh first, a fairly gentle blow. Gideon asked, "More?" to which he nodded -- but still didn't look up, not wanting to be able to tell when the next blow would come.

The next blow had more strength behind it, but was still light, and again Gideon asked him if he wanted more. Again he nodded, and the next blow came down sharp across his buttocks. He yelped in surprise at the moment of impact, and Gideon murmured, "That's more like it, isn't it..."

The pain faded rapidly into a tingling heat that lingered until the sting of the next blow overwhelmed it. He yelped again and looked back at Gideon, glaring accusingly, and Gideon smiled. "I asked you a question, Max," he said, his tone nearly his command voice, "That's more like it, isn't it?"

Max swallowed and nodded, then quietly answered, "Yes, that's more like it, Sir..."

"Good," Gideon said, bringing the belt down again. Max gasped at the impact, then groaned as the pain turned into heat -- heat that was rapidly coalescing into fire in his balls. Gideon continued the flogging, noting with pleasure that Max stopped gasping at the initial strikes, instead groaning and writhing into the bed. As Gideon worked his way up Max's thighs and started on his buttocks, Max spread his legs further and moaned softly. Gideon groaned at the sight of him spread open and hungry before him, his cock coming up hard as he thought about sinking into that tight hole when he got Max good and desperate.

Once Max's ass was red from the flogging, Gideon began aiming the strikes directly for the area where his thighs met his buttocks. Gideon's heart pounded as Max squirmed a bit and pulled the pillow out from under his head, then shoved it under his hips to raise them and make the target easier to reach. "That's a good boy, Max," he purred, taking advantage of the easier access.

Max groaned as Gideon gave him two good, solid strikes, then whimpered as Gideon paused for a moment, reaching over to one of the cabinets and rummaging for something. Then Gideon hit him again, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through him. "Please..." he groaned, writhing and humping the pillow, all pretense of pride gone in the wake of his hunger. On the next strike, Gideon slapped him with a hand instead of the belt, and then squeezed his asscheek hard, feeling the heat in his skin.

"So you're ready for me, then, are you?" Gideon asked, dropping the belt and slapping him again. He ran both hands over Max's buttocks, relishing Max's groan as he did so. Part of him reveled in the thought of proud, arrogant Max Eilerson squirming on his bed and begging to be fucked. He knew he could make Max do anything he wanted and that feeling of power made his blood sing.

Normally he would carefully prepare his partner for the activity to come, but he knew Max didn't want anything caring and gentle. Part of him wondered how long Max had been entertaining rape fantasies about him; the rest wondered how he could have missed the signs of Max's interest for so long.

He slapped Max again, then uncapped the lubricant he had retrieved and slathered just enough on his erection to make it possible to penetrate Max without injuring him. Moving to kneel between Max's legs, he then grabbed Max's ass with both hands and spread him to expose the puckered opening. He steered his cock to its target and began to shove, squeezing Max's asscheeks and running his fingernails over the sensitized skin as he did so to keep Max stimulated.

Max felt the tip of Gideon's cock beginning to penetrate and moaned hotly. Gideon was taking him nearly dry, that glorious cock forcing its way into him. He pressed back as Gideon sank in; reveling in the feel of Gideon's nails running over his abused skin and the pain/pleasure of being taken. As Gideon switched his grip to Max's hips and began to shove deeper, Max pressed back and moaned "Oh yes, fuck me, please," unable to keep his hunger in check. It had been far too long since he'd been really fucked, and his body ached for it.

Gideon sank into Max to the root of his cock, amazed at the ease with which he'd penetrated him. He laid down atop Max, sliding his arms up under his shoulders and pulling their bodies together as he growled in his ear, "You're such a slut, aren't you, Max. I barely used any lube and you opened right up for me... Between that and the way you sucked my cock, I'd almost think that was your 'knack', not deciphering alien languages or making alien gadgets work..." He punctuated each sentence with a hard thrust, the way Max's internal muscles gripped him threatening to make him lose all control once again.

Max wanted to deny it, to come back with some scathing remark, but his mind wouldn't work and all he could do was lie there and enjoy the feeling of Gideon ploughing into him. With every stroke, Gideon's cock rubbed against his prostate, sending electric shivers of pleasure through him. He couldn't help himself, pressing back to drive Gideon in deeper. Gideon chuckled in his ear and said, "You want me to ram it up you as far as it can go, don't you, slut."

"God, yes, please," Max moaned, just before Gideon pulled out of him. "No!" he gasped, hands flailing behind himself for Gideon, who was already out of reach.

"On your back, slut," Gideon commanded, kneeling over Max and looking down at him with the air of the //Excalibur's// captain, not Matthew Gideon. "You know the position I want you in..."

"Yes, Sir," Max whispered, turning over and looking up at Gideon with one of the most desperate expressions Gideon had ever seen on his face. He arranged the pillow under his hips to achieve the right angle, then raised his own legs, pulling them back towards his chest himself.

Gideon looked down at his target and smiled, then purred, "Good boy, Max..." and shoved right back into him. The look of utter ecstacy on Max's face sent a thrill through him, stoking the fire in his balls. All pretense of gentleness gone, Gideon began to fuck Max, thrusting in as deep as he could reach and then nearly withdrawing completely for the next savage stroke.

Max surged up to meet him on every stroke, gasping and moaning as Gideon's brutal thrusts battered at his prostate, the pleasure short circuiting his mind and leaving him unable to speak. He hooked one leg around Gideon's waist, increasing the depth of penetration a tiny bit more.

Gideon was growling low in his throat, his thrusts becoming wilder and faster as his own pleasure increased. He could feel Max's internal muscles gripping and squeezing him, the heat and tightness sending sparks of pleasure straight down his cock and into his heavy balls. Max's total surrender made his head spin, sent a thrill of lust through him as he indulged in his own darker urges; knowing he was doing exactly what his partner wanted him to...

Max could tell it wouldn't be long now, Gideon's thrusts becoming shorter and faster, no longer pulling so far out to shove back in again. He moaned helplessly, his hands roaming over every inch of Gideon that he could reach; pulling him close so that his cock was trapped between their bodies, that added bit of stimulus all he needed to push him over the edge. Orgasm gripped him with an intensity he hadn't felt in a long time, pleasure bordering on the edge of pain; his world narrowing down to the cock splitting him open and the weight of Gideon's body pushing him down into the mattress.

Max's hoarse cry of ecstacy and the tight muscles spasming around his cock sent Gideon over the edge, roaring and thrusting as deep as he could, helpless as he came. Hot jets of cum spurted deep inside Max, his tight ass squeezing on Gideon's cock until he was spent. Panting and sweating, he collapsed atop Max and the two of them lay there, gasping for breath until Max grunted, "Leg."

Gideon smiled slightly and withdrew, then rolled off Max to lay beside him. "Sorry about that," he murmured as Max unfolded and grimaced as his leg twinged.

"You are not," Max murmured, stretching and groaning as he felt the delicious ache in his ass. "Ooh... and you call me a pain in the ass..." He finally managed to make watery muscles move, rolled over to face Gideon and smile. Gideon smiled in return and shrugged, then reached out to brush back Max's sweaty hair.

"So," he began, not entirely sure whether he wanted to ask the question, "are you planning on staying?" Part of him wanted Max to say yes, hoping for an early morning blowjob as a wake-up call...

"You really want me to?" Max asked, trying to sound as if he didn't care, and failing miserably. //That's your cue to leave, Max,// he warned himself. //A quick fuck and get out, nothing more involved than that!//

"That's true, someone might see you here in the morning..." Gideon answered, wondering exactly what Max wanted him to say. Suddenly, the archaeologist was hard to read again, and Gideon knew he had chosen the wrong response. "But you're welcome to stay for a little bit; see if we recover enough for round three..."

Max smirked and said, "I don't think you're ready for round three, Captain," then sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He groaned as his body twinged, muscles protesting the abuse they had suffered and reminding him of the intensity of their coupling. //And I don't think I am, either...// he thought, stretching again and sighing.

Instead of getting annoyed and offering to show him just how ready he could be, Gideon had to admit defeat this once. The uncontrollable lust that had spurred his wildness had faded suddenly, leaving him exhausted. He watched, unable to move, as Max stood and walked out to the living room where he had left his field bag. When he returned and began to dress, Gideon was already asleep.

Once he was dressed and his dirty clothes were packed, Max walked to the bed and reached down to stroke Gideon's hair once, sighing as the captain smiled and leaned into the caress in his sleep. "Good night," he whispered, wishing he wasn't feeling the sudden emptiness that had little to do with physical causes. He turned the light out and walked away, relishing the ache in his body as he walked; clinging to it to drive the loneliness away.

When Max exited Gideon's quarters, he stepped out into corridors that were oddly darkened and filled with a luminescent mist. He stopped short and looked around, murmuring "Just what the hell is going on now?"

The next thing he knew, a form detached from the darkness and crashed into him, slamming him back against the bulkhead. Furious blue eyes bored into his, and Galen growled, "What have you done to him?!"

Max looked at him and scoffed, "I, done to him? Don't make me laugh..." The puzzled look he saw flash across Galen's face bolstered him and he continued, "I suggest you go back to whatever cave you call home and look up some words in the dictionary. Try 'top', 'bottom', and 'consenting adults' for starters. I'm sure you know our captain well enough to figure out which of the first two applies to him!" Then he took a deep breath, and glared right back at Galen. "Now let me go."

He could see Galen's eyes beginning to glow in the eerie lighting, and while part of him realized he may have pushed the technomage too far, the rest of him was too fired up to hold his tongue. "Do you honestly believe that any member of this crew could do something to Gideon that he didn't want done? Now be a good technomage and let me go."

"If I find you are lying, Maximilian, I shall--"

"You'll what?" Max cut in, "I don't think Gideon approves of his crew trying to fry each other, so I strongly suggest you behave. We could always go right in there and ask him, but I'll warn you he's sleeping. I don't think it would be a good idea to wake him just for your petty jealousy..."

Galen glowered at Max with naked fury, but gently released him and backed away. "Go," he directed, icicles dripping from his tone. Max backed away down the corridor for a number of feet, then turned and walked away quickly. He didn't see the gestures Galen was making behind him, nor hear the incantations...

Once Max and the holo-demon Galen had sent to accompany him were out of sight, Galen waved a hand and the atmosphere and lighting in the corridor returned to normal. He stood for a long moment outside Gideon's quarters, contemplating entering and at the very least ascertaining for himself if Gideon were all right; long enough to think very hard about what Max had said. //Jealous? No, this is not petty jealousy at all. There is something wrong with Matthew, and whether you are the cause of it or just a symptom, you are still connected, Maximilian. I need you to stay away from him...// He reached out for the door controls, then let his hand fall to his side. Max had not been lying about the fact that Gideon was sleeping, and he had no desire to ruin the man's sleep...He sighed and walked down the corridor, returning to his ship for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Max staggered out of bed and into the vibe shower, having gotten less than an hour of decent sleep once the holo-demon spell finally wore off. He had had more than enough of scratching and rapping on the walls the instant he began to drift off, and he had certainly had enough of something creeping around on the bed only to disappear the instant he turned on the light... He had had enough of Galen and his technomage tricks. The accusation that he had somehow 'done something' to Gideon was absurd at best -- the only thing he had 'done to' Gideon was provoke a very alpha-male reaction to a sexually submissive partner. There was nothing suspect or evil in doing that!

And what a reaction it had been, too, Max reflected. He still ached, every abused muscle of his body reminding him of Gideon's wildness, of that beautiful cock possessing him... And he knew Gideon had enjoyed it, too; knew how much he had pleased his captain when he sucked him off... And he knew he wanted to do it again -- to share Gideon's bed whenever the captain needed some relief -- there was no need for Gideon to run off to Babylon 5 and Lochley...

"And just who am I kidding," Max muttered as he dressed, "he couldn't get me out of there fast enough last night..."

He heaved a sigh and finished dressing, then stepped out into the corridor and headed for the bridge.

When he arrived on the bridge, he found Galen already there, looking out the main screen at the planet they were still orbiting. Max muttered, "Oh, wonderful," before he even realized the words were out of his mouth.

Galen spun to face him; all smiles, he asked, "Ah, Maximilian, how did you sleep last night?"

"You know damn well how I slept last night, Galen. Do you send holo-demons off to torment people every time they get something you don't?" he answered, aware that the bridge crew were beginning to focus their attention on the two of them. He noticed that Gideon was not yet on the bridge, but suspected that was soon to change when he noticed Matheson contacting someone.

"Only those who get things they don't deserve," Galen answered smoothly, also aware of the attention they were getting. He didn't want to say anything to embarass Gideon, but wasn't certain that Max would feel the same way.

"Then you must be awfully used to them in your bedroom by now," Max said with a sneer, walking past Galen and looking at the main screen.

"Ever the venomous tongue," Galen intoned, glaring at him. His attention was so focused on Max that he didn't notice Gideon arrive on the bridge.

Upon Gideon's arrival, Matheson gave up the comm to him and quickly caught him up on the imminent meltdown. Gideon nodded, but didn't make any move to stop them yet. He had a very good idea what had caused the problem, and wanted a delicate way to deal with it.

Unaware of the addition to the audience, Galen continued, "Behold the serpent at our bosoms, waiting to turn our mission of good into one of profit for himself..."

At that, Max spun, furious. Galen stood before him, his expression daring him to contradict him. Max smiled humourlessly, then, and said, "I am probably the only member of this crew who has made his agenda clear from the beginning -- you all know I'm here because IPX sent me to find useful alien technology. No mystery there.

"Then there's our dark, secretive technomage..." He paused for effect and glanced around, realizing Gideon was now there, watching. Then he continued, "Interesting how the plague we're trying to find the cure to is a nanotechnology virus -- now who is the only other group we've enountered so far who have had one of those..."

Max allowed himself a moment of pride as Galen turned pale at his words -- and paler still as he turned to see Gideon now scrutinizing him -- as if he were beginning to believe what Max was insinuating...

"I think that's enough, gentlemen," Gideon said, his command tone catching everyone's attention instantly. "I think we will take this discussion into the conference room, and we will do so NOW. The rest of you carry on, and if anything comes of this that you need to know, you will be informed. Is that clear?" The rest of the bridge crew instantly returned to their duties, unwilling to attract their captain's ire; and Max and Galen glowered darkly at each other before heading for the conference room.

Gideon sighed and looked up at Matheson, quietly said, "You're in charge until I get back. If you happen to hear either of them begging for mercy, don't come running."

"Yes, Sir," Matheson said, trying to keep his expression neutral. Part of him wondered about what Max had said, but the rest was willing to give Galen the benefit of the doubt -- for now... After all, he was fairly sure he knew what had been at the root of the argument, and that was none of his business...

Gideon ushered Max and Galen into the conference room, forcing them to sit next to each other as he sat across from them. "Now, we will discuss this like the civilized men that we claim to be. If you two want to fight it out later, do it somewhere off my ship and do not let me find out about it. Do you understand?" He spoke firmly, but there was a definite edge of anger to his tone. As amusing as he found their sniping on occasion, this was something more serious and could undermine the effectiveness of the crew. That was something he could not afford...

Max nodded and said, "I'm always civilized," glaring at Galen out of the corner of his eye, "although sometimes I get a little cranky after I've had absolutely no sleep..."

Galen turned to look Max up and down, then said, "You could have slept all night if you had stayed in your own quarters..."

"And just what business is it of yours what I do on my own time?" Max asked with a sneer as he turned to look Galen in the eye.

"Enough!" Gideon said, raising his voice slightly. "Just what the hell is wrong with you two, anyway? Galen? Is it true you sent a holo-demon after Max? What on earth for?!"

"He was lurking outside your quarters last night," Max said, looking back at Gideon. "As a matter of fact, he accused me of 'doing something' to you..."

"Galen?" Gideon asked again, unwilling to hear only one side of the argument.

"I... apologize. I must have been mistaken," Galen said softly, ducking his head and looking at his hands on the table.

"No, I don't want to hear 'I must have been mistaken'," Gideon said angrily, "I want to know why you were outside my quarters -- whether you were wrong or not, I want to know what you were thinking at the time."

Galen looked up again, studying him carefully; wishing he dared cast an invocation for clearer sight. He swallowed and said, "I thought that... I sensed some kind of darkness around you -- I thought it was some influence that Maximilian..."

"What," Max sneered, "You think I somehow cast some evil spell on him?" He laughed, then said, "I believe that's more your speed..."

"Max, that's enough," Gideon said. "Galen, what kind of darkness?"

"I'm not sure," the technomage answered uncomfortably. "I may have made assumptions I had no right to make..."

"That's quite likely," Max muttered.

"Max..." Gideon warned. He studied the man he had so completely fucked the night before, feeling a surge of lust as he remembered the sensation of the fantastic blowjob Max had given him. Then he looked over at Galen, studying him. Surely Galen wasn't such a prude that he equated alternative sexual practices with evil...

Gideon sighed and said, "I'm not going to send one of you out and discuss it with the other in private -- that's absurd. I'm also not going to let you two out of here until I get some answers. Galen, I'm waiting for an explanation."

"I sensed some kind of darkness -- it may have just been..." Galen trailed off, feeling foolish now that he was put on the spot like this. But still, the darkness had been there -- he hadn't imagined it... "It was almost as if something were stripping away your civilized nature; making you more animal than human." He took a deep breath and confessed, "I had been in the lounge when you nearly assaulted Maximilian -- that kind of lust just felt wrong in you..."

"Did you ever think that some of us like that kind of lust?" Max asked, refusing to be embarrassed by the discussion. "That it may be part of the appeal sometimes?"

Gideon frowned and studied Galen, then asked, "Does that kind of thing disturb you, Galen?" He shook his head and continued, "I'm sorry if it does, but I'm not about to change the way I feel or act because it upsets you."

"I -- I'm not sure," Galen answered, looking from Gideon to Max and back again. "I apologize to both of you -- perhaps I should go back to my ship for the time being."

"Perhaps you should," Max said, gloating slightly. //Prude...//

"No one is going anywhere yet," Gideon said firmly, "We've only dealt with one half of the problem." He fixed Max with a piercing stare and said, "Max, I will not tolerate any kind of talk that undermines the effectiveness of the crew. That includes accusing the technomages of having something to do with the Drakh plague, even if they are the only other group that we've encountered who have a nanotech virus... Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir, I understand," Max answered uncomfortably. He knew he had angered Gideon with that comment, although it had made the captain think about the possibility. After all, the suspicion was still there until their secretive sometime-ally managed to prove otherwise...

"Good. Galen, you would, of course, tell us if you knew of any kind of involvement the technomages had with the plague, wouldn't you."

Galen looked up at Gideon uncomfortably and said, "You know that I would -- and you also know that I was not privy to many of the things my fellows were involved in... I'm afraid I can't say one way or the other -- although I would pray that they are not involved in it. It is hard enough knowing that one of my own order was responsible for that other virus and all the deaths it caused. I could not abide knowing that there was some kind of involvement in the Drakh plague -- in something so dark and evil as working with the Shadows..."

"If any information should come your way," Gideon suggested, letting Galen draw his own conclusion.

"Yes, Captain," Galen answered, "May I go now? I feel I have made enough of a fool of myself for one day."

"That might be a good idea," Gideon answered, standing. He let Galen leave, then locked the conference room door and walked back to sit next to Max. "I don't know what to say -- I never expected him to attack you or... I'm sorry."

"Don't worry -- he's jealous that I had you and he didn't," Max answered with a smirk. It broadened into a smile when Gideon raised an eyebrow at the comment. "He is..."

Again, Gideon felt lust flare, thinking of Max lying so eager beneath him. It would be so easy to haul him up onto the table and fuck him right there... He shuddered and reached out to stroke Max's hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling him in for a kiss. When he released Max, the archaeologist gasped for air, leaning back in his chair and staring at him.

"Got to watch that darkness, Captain," he murmured with a smile. The hazel stare pinned him, and he knew he would allow Gideon to do anything he wanted.

"My quarters, tonight. 22:00 hours," Gideon growled, then he stood and unlocked the door. "Fix your hair before you leave here," he ordered, then he left the room.

Max sagged back in the chair and sighed, then smiled broadly and reached up to fix his hair. //Gotcha!//

Once safely on his ship, hidden away from everyone, Galen withdrew a holographic recording crystal from his robe and held it in his palm, activating it. A tiny image of Gideon rose out of the mist it projected, and it replayed his part of the discussion in the conference room.

Galen studied Gideon's expressions, watching carefully for any changes in his expression, pupil size or other subtle signs. There was something -- very slight, but it was there -- just before Gideon told them he wasn't going to discuss the matter with one of them at a time... He replayed that segment again, then paused the recording and cast a spell of true sight on himself.

This time, when he reviewed that segment yet again, he could see a dark shadow pass across Gideon's face, and he knew that he had not imagined it. There was some kind of dark influence over the lust Gideon was feeling for Max -- now all he had to do was find out what was causing it...

Gideon returned to his quarters after the end of his shift, relieved that the difficulty that morning was the only trouble they had encountered this day. He had ordered them out of orbit, explaining that none of the scrolls had any information they could use. Since it appeared the civilization had never run into the Drakh plague, it wasn't going to help their mission any to continue to search.

After that, he had explained that the difficulty that morning was a slight clash of personalities, and that there was absolutely no proof that the technomages were involved in any way with the Drakh plague. If Galen or anyone else discovered otherwise, the information would not be hidden from the crew. Either way, Galen himself was not involved, and should be treated as he always had been -- as an ally.

Now, alone in his quarters and thinking again of Max's words, he knew he had to investigate further. He sat at his desk for a long time, staring at the wall panel where he had hidden the Apocalypse Box; the need to consult with it growing stronger and stronger. He suddenly jumped to his feet and popped the panel open, taking the case out and placing it carefully on his desk.

Again he hesitated, knowing that asking the Box something was always risky. He reached out to open the case, then pulled back his hand as if burned; reached out again and slowly opened it. As he lowered the front of the case, a playing card fell out almost directly into his hand. He picked it up and frowned at it, then looked down at the glowing Apocalypse Box. "The two of hearts?" he asked, "You've got to be kidding..." He sat down and stared at the pulsating glow of the Box, then asked, "Which one, Max or Galen?"

"Do not trust Galen," the Box intoned, the glow pulsating in time with its words. Gideon repressed a shiver, the Box's 'voice' making his hackles rise.

"You said that before, too. Why the hell shouldn't I trust him? He's my friend," Gideon asked, looking again at the card. He knew, somehow, that he wasn't going to get any more of an answer than he had the last time, so he asked another question. "So, why Max?"

"Empty heart needs to be filled," the Box said, the glow flaring for a moment and then dimming to a more subtle light. Gideon knew he wouldn't get any further information out of the Box that day, but knew that at least its last answer had been truthful.

"'Empty heart needs to be filled'..." he mused, closing the case carefully and putting it away behind the wall panel again. "Yeah, that would be Max; definitely an empty heart..."

He sat down again, suddenly realizing just how tired he was. He hadn't had much sleep the night before, and was planning on being awake fairly late this night -- it was time for a nap. He stood and stretched, then stripped off his uniform and padded back to his bed where he flopped down, face first. He was asleep in moments...

Some time later, as Gideon snored softly into his pillow, Galen stepped out of the shadows in his bathroom. He walked silently into the bedroom, looked down at Gideon's sleeping form. "Matthew," he whispered softly, kneeling down next to him and brushing his hand gently over his hair. Gideon murmured in his sleep and rolled over, and Galen caught his breath as he sprawled his nakedness across the bed, his cock beginning to harden in an erotic dream.

He focused his vision, the true sight spell already in effect; and studied Gideon as the dream intensified. Although it was faded, Galen could see the shadow lingering over him. There was some kind of evil influence, but not any kind he could place; nothing he recognized... And Gideon was now murmuring in his sleep and reaching down to grasp his cock -- Galen could not tear his eyes away, knowing he should and that he was invading Gideon's privacy...

He barely managed to restrain himself when he realized he was reaching out to place his hand over Gideon's. "Oh, Matthew..." he whispered softly, seeing his friend in a much different light than he ever had before. //Please tell me Max was wrong...// he thought, feeling desire flaring to life even as he tried to ignore it -- tried to make himself think of Gideon as he always had instead of as this beautiful, sexual creature...

Knowing that Gideon waking and finding him there would lead to nothing but trouble, he forced himself to stand; forced himself to walk away even as Gideon's moans grew loud enough to hear. He vanished into the shadows, pure willpower the only thing that kept him from staying to hear whose name Gideon called; afraid that he would hear Max's name instead of his own...

As Galen left, Gideon groaned and came, waking from the dream at the same instant and looking around as if he had expected someone to be there. "Max?" he asked, confused and still half-asleep, "Galen?" He sighed and slid back down in the bed, wiping up the spatters of cum half-heartedly but too out of it to really care. "God, I'm losing it," he muttered, pulling the sheet over himself before the cool air of the room chilled him. "Thought someone was there..." he murmured, drifting back into sleep.

Instead of returning immediately to his ship, Galen headed for the bullet cars, ducking into one and sighing with relief when he found he was alone. He leaned back against the bench and stared at the ceiling, willing his pounding heart back under control. //What is wrong with me? I have been attracted to men before -- attracted to friends before; but I have never been so unbalanced! Never so completely out of control...// He squeezed his eyes shut, dispelling the true sight before the additional wavelengths of light and magnetic waves in the machinery surrounding him overwhelmed and caused a headache.

//If he has chosen Maximilian, that is his decision,// Galen thought, //Although it escapes all logic, it is not my place to tell him he cannot sleep with that shallow, petty mercenary...// He shook his head suddenly, shocked at the anger of his own thoughts. //All right then, some jealousy perhaps,// he allowed, opening his eyes again and looking at the screen showing the car's location. It would arrive at another stop soon, and chances were his privacy would be lost.

A deep sigh, then he stood, awaiting the stop. //If, however, something has made him chose Maximilian, I will not allow it to continue...//

The bullet car came to a stop and the door slid open, revealing one of the people he wanted least to run into at the moment. "Dureena," he murmured politely as he stepped out of the car. Instead of passing him and entering the car, the alien woman spun on her heel and fell into step beside him.

"Good evening, Galen," she said, looking up at him and instantly knowing his mood was a foul one. Not one to scare easily, however, she asked boldly, "Is it true you and Max are fighting over the Captain?"

He stopped short and stared down at her, then sighed and began walking again. "No, it is not true," he answered, "Where did you hear that?"

"Ship gossip, of course," she answered with a smile. "Which is why I wanted to ask you in person -- I didn't really believe what I was hearing, especially not the part where he accused the technomages of causing the plague..."

"Dureena, please..." he pleaded softly, "You know that I would tell you if I knew something like that. The rest of it is foolishness that should just be ignored -- it should never have come out in public like that..."

She fixed him with a golden stare and said, "So you are in love with him..."

"Dureena..." he said uncomfortably, looking around for a moment but continuing to walk. //This woman and her insight!//

"Don't worry, Galen. Remember, I can keep secrets just as well as you can." This time it was her turn to look around, then she pulled him to a stop for a moment and said, "However, there is one I should share with you now: Max Eilerson isn't the monster you think he is -- he's kind of sad, actually..."

Galen smiled humourlessly and nodded, then extricated his arm from her grasp. "I need to go back to my ship, Dureena -- I just want to rest for a while."

She nodded and watched as he lengthened his stride and walked away to his ship. //Do you even know how you feel, Galen?// she thought as he vanished from sight. //Men...//

At 22:00 hours precisely, Max hit the door chime to Gideon's quarters, fidgeting nervously in the corridor when there was no answer. After 30 seconds, he hit the chime again, relieved when the door slid open and Gideon grabbed his arm, pulling him inside. He gasped, but didn't resist, allowing Gideon to pull him into a rough embrace.

The door slid closed behind him; a shiver of arousal went through him, then Gideon's mouth was on his and he was backed into the closed door. He dropped the field bag he had packed his change of clothes in, and wrapped his arms around Gideon, encouraging his advance. Gideon's hands roamed all over him, frantically trying to reach buttons and fasteners; finally pushing Max back against the door again and holding him there with one arm while he tore at his clothes with the other.

"Easy, Captain, easy," Max panted, trying to help and finding his hands batted out of the way. Gideon grabbed his shirt and tore it open, sending buttons flying; then pulled it back and down just far enough that Max's arms were trapped. "Oh god..." Max murmured as Gideon pulled him close again and ran his hands roughly over his torso; kissed him, forcing his tongue between Max's parted lips.

When Gideon released him, leaving him panting for air again, he smiled and purred, "Beats the fuck out of your fantasies, doesn't it..." Max could only nod mutely and sag back against the door, his knees threatening to give out as Gideon tugged his belt out of its loops and then yanked his zipper open.

When Gideon pulled his trousers and underwear down around his calves, he gasped and asked, "Just how am I supposed to walk like this?" Instead of answering, Gideon smiled slyly and hauled him into a fireman's carry, grunting slightly at Max's weight but carrying him with little difficulty. "Wha-what are you doing?" Max sputtered, trying to at least free his hands.

Gideon carried him into the bedroom and deposited him on the bed, taking just enough care to make sure he didn't hurt himself in the close quarters. Then he let Max lay, bound by his own clothing, as he stripped out of the robe he was wearing. Max hadn't even realized, until that moment, that Gideon wasn't wearing anything else... Now, somewhat nervously, he glanced around and noticed things such as the already-opened tube of lubricant; the leather strap that looked suspiciously like a cock-strap; the swath of black silk that most likely had been a robe tie, but bore a suspicious resemblance to a blindfold... He shivered in anticipation and thought, //Oh god, what is he going to do to me?//

Gideon looked down at him and asked, "Are you ready for this, Max?" At his nod, Gideon smiled and purred, "Good." He picked up the black silk and whispered, "Close your eyes, Max..." When Max complied, he carefully tied the soft fabric over his eyes, making sure it was snug but not tight enough to cause any discomfort.

Max let out a little sigh; a nervous breath he hadn't realized he was holding, but jumped when Gideon touched him again. Hands roved heavily over his torso, sliding around to caress his back, stroke teasing fingertips over his tailbone. He moaned helplessly, the inability to know ahead of time what was going to happen heightening his pleasure; gasped as hands left his body only to return a moment later to grasp his hard cock.

"Oh god..." he breathed, thrusting helplessly into the hand that caressed and pulled on him; gasping in surprise as the cock strap was fastened snugly around his cock and balls.

"Enjoying this, are you, Max?" Gideon purred, leaning in for another bruising kiss, arousal burning along his nerves as Max allowed -- even encouraged -- this possession. As he probed deeply into Max's mouth with his tongue, he tasted blood where Max had bitten his lip. He fastened his teeth on the small wound and gently bit down, arousal thundering through him as Max gasped and surged up against him. When he finally broke the kiss, he purred, "Yes, I guess you are enjoying it... Good."

Suddenly, he wasn't touching Max any more, and the man lying helplessly on his bed whimpered. He smiled and picked up the tube of lubricant, smeared some of it on his fingers, then replaced the tube on the table as silently as he could.

The sounds were making Max more nervous -- he could tell that Gideon was doing something, but not what it was. He shivered with arousal at the thought that anything could be next. The nip that Gideon had given his lip throbbed, but the throb of his trapped cock was more insistent.

And then Gideon's slick finger was probing between his asscheeks. He rolled onto his stomach, allowing Gideon easier access, and wished again that he had been allowed to free his legs... The very tip of Gideon's finger teased around the puckered opening, penetrating just the outer ring at first and gently massaging muscles that Gideon was sure had to be sore. He watched Max's reactions carefully, relieved when the archaeologist groaned and tried to drive him deeper.

"Easy, Max, there will be plenty of time for that; no need to rush..." he purred, easing his finger in a little as he did so. //Provided I can keep my cool,// he added mentally as Max's anus twitched around the invading digit. Arousal burned through him and he slid the finger deeper, feeling Max's instant response as his body opened to receive the intruder. //Who would have thought it,// he mused, the sound of Max's panting moans making restraint difficult, //Arrogant, egotistical Max Eilerson is a slutty sub who just can't get enough cock...// With that thought, he withdrew and slid two fingers back into Max, smiling as the man gasped in surprise and then groaned in pleasure.

Max lay helpless in Gideon's bed; unable to see; his arms, legs, cock and balls trapped; and Gideon's fingers sliding deep into him -- he was so aroused he thought he would burst into flame right then and there. The fingers probing and massaging were growing less and less gentle, the insistent pressure against his prostate with each of Gideon's thrusts driving him wild. When Gideon withdrew again and shoved three fingers inside him, he cried out and writhed into the bed, his reaction making it more than obvious that his cry was not one of pain.

He shuddered helplessly, his world narrowing down to the sensations ruling him; the insistent throbbing of his trapped cock and the intense pleasure sparking through his balls every time Gideon pressed against the sensitive gland; the knowledge that he was helpless to stop this man from doing anything he wanted, and the knowledge that he would eagerly allow him to do it...

Gideon withdrew again, then leaned down next to his ear and said, "Roll over for a moment, Max; you need the pillows under you..." He complied eagerly, desperate to have Gideon's fingers back inside him; then grunted in surprise as Gideon lifted his hips and repositioned him. "Much better," Gideon purred, retrieving the lube again and squeezing a large amount onto his hand.

Max tried to figure out what was going on behind him, knowing that he was going to start begging soon. A moment later, Gideon plunged in again, and suddenly he knew what his captain had planned...

"Oh -- god!" he moaned, reveling in the delicious full feeling as Gideon folded his thumb in against his palm and pushed steadily into him, "Yes!"

Gideon grasped his own cock with his free hand and groaned, nearly as aroused as Max was. He began to fuck Max -- carefully at first, although it was more than obvious, considering the ease with which he entered, that Max had done this before. It definitely explained some of the later films on that crystal of his... As Max grew wilder, closer to orgasm, his strokes grew less careful. In the back of his mind was the concern that he could do Max considerable damage, but it was no longer even close to the primary concern.

Instead, he found himself nearly overwhelmed by the power he held over the man in his bed -- he had Max utterly helpless, and something about that made his own arousal and pleasure so intense and overpowering that for a second he actually did worry about Galen's claim of some kind of darkness. Then Max moaned inarticulately and all worry was driven from his mind...

Max lay helpless, unable to do more than accept Gideon's fisting and enjoy the incredible sensations that burned through him. He knew on some instinctive level that his submission to this man was going to be his ruin -- but at the moment, with Gideon's hand so deep inside him, he didn't care at all. Pleasure was building to a crescendo that he knew he couldn't contain -- his trapped balls felt like they could explode, his ass felt so full, every nerve stimulated and sending pleasure into his already overloaded brain. He tried to say something, and knew that only sounds came out -- sounds that seemed to drive Gideon wild...

And then it began, pulses coming from deep within, pleasure searing along nerves and sparking across synapses. As orgasm gripped him he screamed, his mind burned away in the supernova of pleasure that swept him and Gideon with it. He vaguely registered the fact that Gideon's cum was splashing hotly on his ass and that a loud moan of pleasure escaped Gideon's lips... He didn't remember Gideon carefully withdrawing and making sure there was no sign of blood, and he certainly didn't remember the captain covering him gently with a blanket...

The next time he woke, Gideon was staring at him, his cock hard again. "Ready for round two, Max?"

Over the following week Max shared Gideon's bed on three more occasions; the last time even staying until morning, both of them too exhausted from energetic fucking. Waking up in the warm embrace of another person reminded him of the times when he hadn't been alone; bittersweet memories making his throat close and threatening to bring tears to his eyes...

To keep Gideon from finding out, he had woken his captain up with another incredible blowjob, thinking at the time that he could easily grow to like being the Captain's 'kept man'...

Galen had made himself scarce during that week, which made his presence during their current expedition even more irritating -- especially the way he kept studying Max and Gideon as they sat side-by-side on one side of the shuttle. At one point, Max looked up to meet the penetrating blue stare, and had to fight to restrain a shudder at the anger pouring out at him. If looks could kill...

Max sighed, wishing he dared point it out to Gideon. He looked down for a moment, then glanced at Gideon out of the corner of his eye, realizing that Gideon himself was staring at Galen and frowning. As he watched, Gideon mouthed, "What the hell is your problem?"

Trying to hide the fact that he was, Max glanced back at Galen; amused to see him trying to act as if he were innocent. Galen was about to say something when the shuttle dipped wildly and alarms blared. Before anyone could react, blinding light flared in the shuttle and it began shaking. A piercing whine masked Max's cry for help and Gideon's demand to know what was going on, then the shaking and rattling intensified.

Max tried to make a grab for Gideon's arm but found nothing there -- instead, he was surrounded by the blinding light, unable to see even the things that had been closest to him. Pain exploded behind his eyes as the sound cut through his skull; he screamed, and then everything went black...

The whine lanced through Gideon's head, agony doubling him over despite his desire to get to the helm and try to get them back under control. He could feel the shuttle pitching and yawing violently -- or perhaps that was just what the sound was doing to his equilibrium. The light was so intense he had to close his eyes, but when he reached out blindly he found his hand fastening on someone warm and alive. He assumed it was Max, since they had been closest together, and held onto the arm for everything he was worth. Despite the assault on his senses, he could hear the shuttle shaking apart around him and knew that they were going to die if he couldn't do something...

Galen swallowed the defense he was about to offer and stood the instant the light flared in the shuttle. He could hear Max cry out for help, then his senses were assaulted by a devestating combination of sound and light, nearly bringing him to his knees. He lurched forwards, his arms flung out contacting something warm. A strong hand fastened on his arm and he murmured, "Matthew..." He wrapped his arms and coat around the warm body and clung to it, knowing their lives depended on it; wishing he could make his mind work, concentrate enough to cast an invocation that would at least allow them to see...

"... Matthew? Please, Matthew, wake up..." The voice wouldn't go away, wouldn't stop bothering him. He wanted to keep sleeping -- it hurt to be awake; felt like his head was going to explode, like his teeth were going to throb themselves right out of his head... "Matthew..."

"All right, all right, I'm awake, now shut up. First time you've called me anything other than 'Captain' and I'm dying from a headache..." Gideon snarled, finally opening his eyes. "Galen! I thought..."

"You thought I was Max, I know," Galen answered softly, untangling himself from Gideon's long limbs. "How do you feel?" he asked, deciding he wasn't going to comment on their closeness if Gideon didn't.

"My head's going to explode -- the shuttle! What the hell was that? Where are we?" he asked, sitting up and looking around for a split second before the pain caught up with him. "Ooh..."

"The shuttle is gone, Matthew. I believe that was either some kind of automated defense, or this world is not as uninhabited as we thought it might be." He saw Gideon looking around, carefully now, at the wreckage. "I'm afraid we seem to be the only survivors..."

Gideon's attention snapped back to him, his brows furrowing as the pain hit again, then he asked, "Everyone..?"

Galen took a deep breath and answered, "Well, I haven't been able to look around the wreckage, but we appear to be the only..." Before he could finish, Gideon was struggling to his feet and staggering around the smouldering remains of the shuttle, pausing beside the pilot's body to close his eyes.

"Max -- where's Max?" he muttered, turning back to Galen. He took an unsteady step towards him, tripping over something and pitching right into him, gasping as Galen caught him. "Where's Max -- he was right here!"

Galen wrapped his arms around Gideon and answered, "I don't know, Matthew -- I'm sorry."

"Let go of me, damn it," Gideon snapped, pushing against Galen's chest. Galen began to loosen his grip when Gideon went pale again and sagged against him...

He carefully picked Gideon up and walked out of the wreckage, heading for the tree line he had spotted when he first woke. Once under the shelter of a huge pine tree, he gently laid Gideon down on a bed of pine needles and stripped off his duster to cover his friend with. Then, he returned to the wreckage and searched for emergency supplies and clothing, finding Max's field bag and a first aid kit, but not much else. On his way back to Gideon, he spotted the headrest from the pilot's chair, and picked that up, too.

Shivering slightly, he returned to Gideon's side and gently lifted his head, sliding the headrest under to give him at least some cushioning. Then he rifled the field bag and first aid kit, looking for anything he could use to keep Gideon warm until he had a fire started. Feeling slightly uncomfortable doing so, he pulled a spare IPX sweater from Max's bag and draped it over Gideon, following it with the small blanket from the first aid kit. Then he gently elevated Gideon's legs, sliding the bags under to support them.

Knowing he had done all he could for the moment, he stood and walked around the area, gathering as much firewood as he could carry. The shuttle must have been brought down in a relatively clear area, but it had snapped off some treetops and limbs. Some of the wood was green, but a lot of it seemed to be dry enough to burn -- at least long enough to hopefully warm Gideon and keep him from going further into shock.

He cleared an area, then carefully dug into Max's field bag for the small shovel he had seen in there. He used the shovel to dig out a small fire pit, then lined it with kindling and smaller twigs and flicked a finger at it, sending a fireball into the heart of the kindling. As the fire caught, he fed larger twigs and sticks into it until there was a healthy fire blazing. Once he could be certain that the fire would keep burning, he returned to Gideon's side and lay down beside him.

He had ignored his own headache as long as he could but now that he relaxed, he found his temples throbbing and stars exploding behind his eyes. Something about the force that brought the shuttle down had affected his senses, and it seemed that only sheer willpower had kept him on his feet to this point. He knew that he should stay awake, stay alert to check on Gideon; but even as he thought this, he sank into unconsciousness...

The first thing that registered was pain. Absolute, blinding pain that felt like someone was splitting his head open with an icepick -- he groaned and tried to raise a hand to squeeze his head back together, and gasped when pain lanced through his shoulder. "Okay, I surrender, just make it stop..." he moaned, curling up and whimpering when the pain didn't stop.

He rolled over onto his other side, crying out when his shoulder settled back into place with a loud crack. The wave of pain dragged him down into the murky depths, then gradually ebbed as the pain from his shoulder faded. The pain slightly less intense, he sank back into unconsciousness.

The next time he woke, he was shivering, curled into fetal position in an attempt to keep warm. His head was still pounding, but this time he was capable of thinking, and realizing that he could hear voices nearby. He uncurled and sat up, carefully opened his eyes and looked around. "Where the hell am I?" he murmured, realizing there was no sign of the shuttle or of anyone from it, but what looked like a small group of beings a short distance away. The terrain he sat in was similar to the tundra on earth; short scrubby grasses growing in clumps between rocks and patches of sandy soil, moss, or lichens.

He struggled to his feet and shaded his eyes, then looked around, squinting and trying to bring the cluster of beings into focus. Hesitantly, he raised his other arm and waved, then yelled, "Hello? Captain, is that you? Galen?" And then one of the beings pointed in his direction and barked an order in a harsh, guttural language...

He let his arm fall to his side and muttered, "Oh dear -- not the captain..." In the split second it took him to decide to run the beings seemed to disappear from sight and the next thing he knew, they were surrounding him. They were all tall and humanoid in form, with pointed, almost felinoid ears, slitted pupils, and thick, glossy hair; dressed in what appeared to be military style uniforms that had seen much better days. As he studied the uniforms and the arrogant expressions that surrounded him, the large catlike eyes that watched his every breath; a chill suddenly gripped him. //No, it's impossible. Their skin is too dark, they're too tall, too lean...// he thought, desperately trying to talk himself out of what he suspected was the truth.

The leader stopped squarely in front of him and spoke in the guttural language the scout had used before, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

It wasn't common knowledge, but approximately nine years before, he had been in the right place at the right time to hear about one of the greatest opportunities ever offered to -- and lost by -- a joint EarthGov/IPX group. As an up-and-comer interning with one of the top R&D offices, Max had overheard a discussion about the last survivor of the Dilgar, Warmaster Jha'Dur, who had come out of hiding and offered the universe an immortality serum in an attempt to buy her freedom. EarthGov had jumped at the chance but before they could collect, the Vorlons blasted Jha'Dur out of the sky, committing genocide and destroying the serum all in one fell swoop.

It had always been suspected that the Dilgar, as master genetic manipulators, had engineered some of the troops they sent on suicide missions. Now, seeing these beings that in a general way resembled the Dilgar; who wore their uniforms and spoke a dialect of their language, Max knew it was true...

He swallowed and asked, "Could you please repeat the question?"

The leader frowned and said something else, and Max could tell she was becoming annoyed with him. "Look," he said, trying to sound as calm as he could, "I'll be able to answer your questions once I understand your dialect. I just need to hear it a little more..."

The leader barked a command, and before Max could react, two of the other members of the party grasped his arms and pulled them behind his back. His sore shoulder protested the maltreatment -- as pain flared he nearly fell to his knees, gasping sharply when his captors hauled him upright again. The leader barked another command and his captors lashed his forearms together behind his back, ensuring that his hands were too far from the ends of the thongs to be able to free himself.

Once he was restrained, the leader gave another command and they began to march back to what Max assumed had to be their camp, forcing him along with them.

Galen was the first to stir, feeling a chill as the fire burned low. Still muzzy from sleep, he snuggled against the source of warmth he felt along one side, slowly registering the fact that his was pressed against someone. He turned onto his side and took the sleeping form in his arms, realizing as he did so that it was taller and more muscular than he had expected; finally registering that it was a man.

"Matthew?" he murmured over the brown hair that tickled his lips. Even as he thought he should back away slightly, he felt his body beginning to respond to the warmth pressed against him. //Not now,// he thought firmly, willing his body to listen to reason. He tried to edge away, only to have Gideon's hands close on his arms and try to keep him close. To move away now, he would have to risk waking Gideon, and he wasn't sure he wanted to until he could be sure he was in control of himself...

That decision was taken away when Gideon groaned and lifted his head from the makeshift pillow. "Is that your staff in your pocket or are you happy to see me?" he murmured, turning to look back at Galen.

"I'm sorry, Matthew -- I was dreaming," Galen said, unsure if Gideon even remembered where they were and how they got there. The last thing he wanted to do was appear to be taking advantage of the disaster that had befallen the shuttle. "I need to build up the fire before we freeze," he murmured, trying to free himself from Gideon's strong grasp.

"Wait," Gideon gasped, clutching Galen's arms harder for a moment. "I... oh shit, the shuttle..."

"Yes, Matthew, the shuttle," Galen whispered, trying again to free himself. "I'm sorry, Matthew. I managed to stay awake long enough to get the fire lit, then I passed out myself. I didn't see any sign of other survivors while I was getting the firewood." He noticed that Gideon's death grip had loosened, gently freed his arms and sat up. "How does your head feel?"

"It's okay..." Gideon answered softly, realizing that underneath the thin blanket, he was wrapped in one of Max's sweaters and Galen's duster. He cleared his throat, feeling Galen watching him as he sat up. "What is it, Galen?"

"I -- I didn't see any sign of his body -- but I didn't get to search that well, either," the technomage said, his usual eloquence failing in the wake of his discomfort.

Gideon swallowed hard and nodded, then gathered the blanket and loose clothing and carefully stood up. "Anything salvageable from the shuttle?"

"Not that I could see -- but again, I didn't really get that good a look."

"Not your fault -- if your head felt anything like mine did..." Gideon said, rubbing the back of his neck. Once the kink had eased slightly, he looked down at the bundle in his arms. Awkwardly, he unwrapped Galen's duster and held it out to him. "Thank you for lending this to me, but you need to stay warm, too."

"But--" Galen began, then Gideon shook the duster slightly and he knew the captain wouldn't take no for an answer. He took his duster back and donned it, watching with surprise as Gideon tugged the sweater over his head and arranged it until it sat comfortably over his uniform.

"It doesn't seem to be getting any warmer," Gideon explained, "and I don't plan on wasting one of the few resources we have right now."

"I understand," Galen answered, still not comfortable seeing Gideon wearing the IPX sweater. "Matthew, may I ask you something personal?"

"Of course," Gideon answered, shrugging and wrapping the small blanket about his shoulders before they headed back towards the majority of the wreckage. "But, I may not answer..."

"Fair enough," Galen acknowledged. "Do -- did you love him?"

Gideon stared at him, his eyes wide in surprise. "Max? Love?" he asked, pausing to clear his throat when his voice came out much rougher than he had expected. "I...I liked him -- like him. No one's seeing the real Max Eilerson -- he's not the shallow bastard he wants everyone to think he is..."

Galen sighed and said, "You're the second person recently who told me he's not that bad..."

"Who?"

"Dureena -- she heard something about our argument on the bridge, and asked me if he and I were..."

"Were what?" Gideon asked when he trailed off.

"Fighting over you," Galen answered, glancing up at Gideon to see his reaction.

Gideon blinked in surprise and opened his mouth, although no sound came out. He swallowed and tried again, croaking, "Fighting -- over me? You've got to be kidding."

Galen smiled slightly and shrugged. "Well, that was the rumour, although for the life of my, I can't see why..."

"Wha--" Gideon asked, realizing he had been insulted. He feigned a frown, realizing the technomage was trying to lighten the mood -- and perhaps he was also trying to conceal something. After all, Max had said...

//Okay, now's not the time,// he reminded himself firmly, looking at the mess that lay before them. "Guess we'd better find out just how bad things are... Have you tried contacting the Excalibur?" He poked suspiciously at his com bracelet before he raised it to his lips, preparing to make the attempt himself.

"Actually, no, I hadn't had the chance..." Galen admitted, somewhat sheepishly. He was slightly disturbed by the fact that he hadn't thought to do so -- headache or not, he--

"Galen!" Gideon cried, catching him as his knees buckled. He gently lowered the technomage to the ground, supporting him against his chest. "Damn it, what's wrong?"

"Oh dear, that's just not good..." Galen murmured, feeling another wave of weakness wash over him. "I think I know what brought the shuttle down -- there seems to be some kind of field around this world that limits the level of technology that works here... I was able to conjure a fireball last night, but suddenly I feel weaker than I did just before I passed out..."

"Were you trying to contact your ship?" Gideon asked, trying to silence the nervous feeling that was making his blood roar in his ears. "Or did I just do that to you by activating my com bracelet?"

"Both. Either. I'm not sure, Matthew... And the way I feel, I'm not overly inclined to experiment to find out..." Galen murmured, leaning heavily against his friend. "My head is at it again..."

Gideon frowned, carefully reaching up to massage Galen's temples; the frown fading as Galen relaxed against him and sighed softly. "Is that helping?"

"Actually, yes, it is..." Galen answered, unable to conceal his surprise. "Matthew, I may have serious problems if this is what I think it might be."

"I know," Gideon answered softly; well aware, now, of just how 'techno' a technomage could be. "You just take it easy. We'll get out of this somehow -- I'll see if maybe I can reach John -- if nothing else, he's got to be trying to find some way to--"

"And if he does, they will be brought down the same way we were," Galen said, trying to sit up again. "We must find whatever device generates the field, and shut it down."

To keep his friend from trying to stand before he was recovered, Gideon wrapped his arms around him and said, "No, Galen, relax. I'm not having you pass out on me..."

"Matthew, don't--"

"I'm serious, Galen. We're not going to be able to move quickly if I have to carry you!"

Galen relaxed back against him again and sighed. "All right, if you insist." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I am feeling a little dizzy, actually," he said quietly, knowing that whether he admitted it or not, Gideon wasn't going to let him up again until he was able to prove he felt better. A moment later, Gideon had eased him down to rest his head in his lap. "Uh... Matthew, that's really not a good idea," he tried to protest.

"Why not?" Gideon asked, looking down at him and resuming the gentle massage. "You took care of me, why shouldn't I take care of you? Worried that I'll discover your secrets?"

While Galen knew Gideon meant it in jest, he couldn't keep from reacting to what he had said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Gideon snorted and asked, "What? Come on, Galen, you're human; you're allowed to have weaknesses, just like the rest of us." He continued rubbing, expanding from just massaging his temples to a full scalp massage. "Now, relax..."

Galen couldn't hold back a groan of pleasure as Gideon's fingers chased the tension away, the headache lessening the more he relaxed and the less he thought.

Gideon smiled and continued the massage, asked, "Good?"

"Yes, actually," Galen answered softly, "You've got wonderful hands..." Somewhat against his will, he relaxed enough to begin drifting off, curling up slightly to keep warm and get as comfortable as he could.

As Galen shifted in his lap, Gideon caught his breath, feeling Galen's head move against his groin. He continued his massage of Galen's scalp, his mind racing despite his relaxed appearance. //What am I doing?!// he thought, feeling the first stirrings of arousal. //The damned box says not to trust him, but I do -- I think I always have... He's so alone -- and now, so am I...//

At first, he didn't realize that his gentle strokes had roamed from Galen's scalp; didn't realize he was stroking Galen's cheek and neck and sliding a hand down into the high neckline of Galen's clothing... Didn't realize, until Galen suddenly stiffened in his lap and turned to look up at his face. "Matthew, what are you doing?"

He stared down at Galen, at his fingertips tracing a sculpted collarbone; then swallowed hard and murmured, "Letting my mind wander, Galen. I'm sorry..." He drew his hand back and was not surprised when Galen sat up.

"Matthew," Galen whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek, "I will not lie to you. Recently, I have come to desire you as more than a friend... After realizing this, I have to think that perhaps Max was correct and part of my antagonism towards him was due to jealousy." Then he paused and took a deep breath and continued, "But you have just lost someone that you care for, and I will not take advantage of that."

Gideon stared at him for a long moment, surprised by his openness. //Don't trust Galen? This has got to be one of the times that damned thing is lying -- now I've got to worry about why... But, right now it's time to repay openness with more of the same.// He nodded and said, "Fair enough, but I want you to know two things: first, I am not looking to form any kind of deep relationship with anyone on my ship -- it only leads to trouble. Second, until we find a body, Max is missing, not dead."

Galen nodded and said, "Understandable, Matthew, but I wouldn't get my hopes up too much... We should search what's left and you'll see what I mean." The apparent contradiction of Gideon's statements was not lost on him, and he wished he could comfort the man -- even if he didn't love Max, the loss of a member of his crew always hurt Gideon.

Gideon nodded and asked, "How's your head -- do you think you can walk now?" When Galen nodded he rose to his feet and offered a hand to help the technomage up. When Galen accepted his assistance, he took the chance to gauge how much he had really recovered. He seemed steady enough...

"I'm fine, Matthew," Galen chided, sensing Gideon's doubt, "I'm not lying."

"Okay, Galen, then let's get this over with," Gideon said softly, looking past the mage towards the wreckage of the shuttle.

Some time later, chilled both emotionally and physically, they trudged back to the tree line and sat down heavily next to each other. After a long silence, Gideon said, "The only one not accounted for is Max -- I didn't see any sign of him at all -- it's almost as if someone took him away before we woke..."

Galen nodded his agreement, then scanned the area around them. "The ground is too frozen for any sign of footprints or drag marks, and a vehicle wouldn't function here... It's hard to imagine that he was somehow thrown clear of the crash, but he's definitely not here."

"There's got to be someone else here," Gideon mused, staring hard at the meagre supplies they had managed to salvage from the wreckage. In addition to the field bag and first aid kit that Galen had rescued the night before, there was a small toolkit and an additional blanket that the technomage had missed. If they had to be there for any length of time it would be necessary to find water, but the first aid kit had a good supply of water purification tablets so that wasn't as big a concern as it could be. On the other hand, the field that had brought the shuttle down was a big concern -- Galen's technomage abilities were second nature to him and remembering not to use them would be difficult...

"We've got to find whoever else is here, see what they know about the field -- they may even be the ones in control of it..." Gideon mused, packing the toolkit into Max's field bag.

"I doubt that, Matthew," Galen answered, scanning the horizon, "I think that since this planet was on the list of potentially useful sites, whoever is here now crashed here themselves and the field that brought us down is part of the technology from the original inhabitants."

"You're probably right," Gideon said, lurching to his feet. "We'd better start looking, before my butt gets frozen to the ground..."

"Agreed," Galen said, standing and shouldering the first aid kit, then picked a direction and began walking, Gideon at his side.

<<<< back to the "Crusade" recommendations	back to the main index >>>>
<<<< back to the main recommendations page	back to Storyteller's Campsite >>>>