Snippet 4 :-)

"God, this looks amazing," Rorek said, being sure to sneak a hand out and not-so-discreetly squeeze Spock's fingers as he took the plate and took another sniff of the contents. "...I won't even ask how you did it. Time to taste." He picked up his fork, took a small bit of the dessert, and put it quickly into his mouth.

The flavor had an even stronger affect on him than the smell did. It was almost like a drug - it seemed to fill his veins as much as his stomach. It was completely like a piece of heaven. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if this was what Spock tasted when he ate a piece of chocolate.

Maybe...

He glanced up at Spock, giving him a perfectly blissful smile. "...unbelievable."

"As is yours," Spock replied, cleaning his fork and going for another forkful without a pause. "It shares the depth of the dressing."

Rorek, again, had to fight valiantly for some control of his facial expressions, but couldn't help but smile as he took another forkful of Spock's dessert. It warmed him all over, making him happy and comfortable. "I'm glad you like it. I used only the best ingredients, you know. Lots of...brown sugar."

"The depth is not brown sugar," Spock said, shaking his head as he eyed another forkful. "Brown sugar does not convey a richness."

"Well, it must be a mixture of things, then," Rorek said, keeping his voice casual as he ate another mouthful of the dessert Spock had served him. "I barely remember everything I put in there. I was too busy thinking about what you were making."

Spock finished his cake with a satisfied sigh, releasing his hand as he set down his fork. His smile tilted casually as he watched him finish. "That is hardly a comfort."

"I didn't know you needed comforting," Rorek said, finishing his dessert, his eyes fixed only on Spock now as he smiled. "But, you know, if you do...I'm very sure that can be arranged."

Spock's smile darkened his eyes. "I hardly require an arrangement,"

Heaven, was the last word that crossed Rorek's mind before, the next thing he knew, he had Spock pinned up against the wall by the table, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. He hadn't felt this aroused in a while, he decided, moving his mouth to attack the sensitive skin on the Vulcan's neck. It must have been the wine...and maybe that dessert...

Little did the two of them know they had a captive audience.

"Told you!" Christi whispered in delight, pointing at them from the vent in the wall just outside the kitchen. "Before 8:00. I win."

"Frick you. Rorek cheated. He used chocolate!" Mel hissed, glaring at her. "You don't win any such thing. Besides, they're not in bed, technically."

"Oh pffffft!" Christi practically spit on her as she motioned to them. "I give them two minutes."

"In two minutes, you'll have lost the bet! Besides - you know, seeing as they're both a little bit wasted, they might just do it right there on the floor, or up against the wall..."

"They'd never be able to keep standing up," Christi argued.

"Well, the floor, then. Or the couch. Either way, I can still win this. Because I find loopholes!"

Christi glared at her. "Your bet is broader than mine and you know it."

"Nuh-UH. YOU just made yours too specific." Mel said insistently. "And besides, you - "

A door shutting interrupted both of them. Christi and Mel whipped around, peering out of the vent - and found their arguing had made them miss the fact that Rorek and Spock had apparently opted for the comfort of their bedroom after all...and were now nicely shut away inside. Out of sight.

"Dammit!" Mel howled. "It's all your fault!!"

"Oh eff you," Christi said, shoving her furiously. "Now we missed the good part!" She shook her head in disgust and started crawling back out of the vent. "Now what?!"

"We go play Boggle," Mel said decisively. "And pout. Ooh! Maybe we can get drinks, too. I bet the replicator can't sense if you're not 21!"

Christi looked back at her, and Mel could see that everything in her world suddenly got a lot better.

*

Peter looked up as the doors to Engineering opened, raising his eyebrows when he saw a rather roughed-up looking Mel walk sluggishly into the room. "Who'd you drink under the table this time?"

"Myself," Mel muttered, trudging over to a nearby console and tapping her information into the computer, signing herself in. "...m' pretty sure I'll never touch anything with the word 'ale' in it again..."

Peter chuckled, closing his tricorder. "I've never known you to have hangover."

"I don't have a hangover. I'm just not completely sober yet," Mel grumbled, walking over to another station. "I only got two hours of sleep last night. I stopped drinking at five. It was all Christi's fault...hey, where's the schedule? Did Scotty take it already?"

Peter nodded, giving her a look. "You're a minute late."

"Oooooh," Mel grimaced, looking hesitantly toward the Jeffries tubes. "...I'll have to hunt him down. Dang it. I HATE it when he does that...wait - you know the schedule!" She whipped around to face Peter. "Tell me! What's on the docket?"