If at First...

BY : Bebe
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 2226
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: If at First…


Author: Bebe


Rating: NC-17


Disclaimer: Still not mine. Drat.


Spoilers: Brief indirect mention of "Its Hour Come Round At Last."


Feedback: Please send comments to mouse3of3@yahoo.com.


Pairing: Rommie/Harper


Archive: At AU and AFF. All others please ask.


Summary: Harper and Rommie keep trying, but everything gets in the way.


Author's Note: Somewhat fluffy, but I had fun writing it! Set sometime after season one, but who knows when. For the continuity watchers: I wrote this, then realized that there is a second season episode where Harper’s standing in front of the skeleton of the X-1. I decided that that was the rebuilt version for the purposes of this story. For the history buffs: I tried to get the description of the plane as close to how it was as possible without sacrificing the story for it. If it really makes you cringe, consider that there was more than one model tried, and Harper just might not have gotten the plans for that exact one?


 


This arrangement, Rommie reflected, is getting tiring. Or perhaps "tiring" wasn’t the right word. Or, for that matter, "arrangement." The effect was the opposite of exhaustive, and it was hardly something that they deliberately tried to have happen. That was hardly Harper’s fault, though, or hers. There were only so many times and places on a warship to be alone, after all, not that they hadn’t tried, and that applied even when you were on a ship meant for four thousand and housing six. Of course— she smiled— while usually they were trying to avoid the others, there were times when they deliberately tempted fate. The last time there had been delegates onboard, even.


At Dylan’s request, she’d put together a dinner party, despite the debacle of the last one. Of course, mindful of that exact debacle as well as the disasters that seemed to occur whenever large numbers of Commonwealth representatives gathered, certain individuals had been given leave to be nowhere near them, Harper among them. Even that hadn’t prevented problems, though. With the perversity belonging to even the best-planned soirees, they’d run out of several things simultaneously, and Rommie had been dispatched over her protests to retrieve more from the supply closets.


The grumbling had lasted until she reached the first closet, where the linens were stored, and stepped around the first, low set of shelves; napkins had been one of the first things that they’d run out of, and they were on a set of shelves to the rear. Harper had been sitting there on the side away from the door, obviously waiting, with his torso to the back panel of the shelves and his legs stretched out in front of him. When she’d spotted him and started to ask, he’d grinned and said, "I need you to do exactly what I tell you for the next… mm, thirty seconds." She’d agreed, hesitantly, still leery of some of his plans. Just because she was sleeping with him, or trying to, didn’t mean that she trusted everything he thought of.


"Okay, feet here," one on either side of his legs, "hands here," against the top board of the shelves, above his head, "and just hold still for a second."


"Harper, what—" and then he’d ducked his head under her skirt. She’d waited, curious, while his spikes of hair brushed the inside of her thighs, although she widened her stance reflexively. She wasn’t entirely prepared for the light gust of his breath over her labia. By the time he flicked his tongue over her clit, though, she knew where this was going, and braced herself before he did it again, more firmly. "Oh…"


If anything, the faint sigh encouraged him, and he’d begun licking more enthusiastically, one hand on each of her thighs, holding her and keeping her exposed and in more or less one place, even as she attempted shifting her hips. When she tried to push down onto him, to get just a little more pressure, he pulled the tiniest bit away. Slowly but steadily, he drove her higher, every so often stopping to suck gently at her and send another throb of pleasure all the way down to her fingers and toes. "Harper…"


And the door to the supply closet slid open and Rommie swore at her mainframe for not giving her advance warning, even as she schooled her features to face the two diplomats stumbling through the door. She felt Harper freeze as she’d said, amazed that her voice remained steady, "I’m sorry, but this area is off-limits."


The Castallian diplomat, still leaning on the Mobian and extremely flushed from the champagne she’d been drinking, managed, "I’m sorry, we got lost."


Beneath her, Harper’s shoulders were shaking, probably from laughter. She ignored it, asking, "Do you need assistance? I would be happy to esco—" She nearly broke off when Harper bit the inside of her thigh warningly, but she managed to finish, "—rt you back." She considered squeezing her legs together and making him regret it, but the impulse only last roughly three milliseconds, especially with the rush of warmth that she felt when he swept his tongue over the spot.


"No, no, we can find our way back, thanks." They backed out hastily, letting the door shut behind them, just as Harper went back to his work with a vengeance.


"Harper!" Within a minute, he had her moving in time with his mouth as she teetered on the brink, and then he slid one finger the slightest bit inside her and pressed. "Oh!" She felt herself jerk into the pressure as the wave of sensation rippled through her body, sending her over the edge and making her knees buckle.


He’d reserved the obvious gloat about being the Love God until after she’d stopped shaking, then ducked out from under her skirt, his face damp. "Go," he’d told her then, when she’d offered to reciprocate. "Dylan’s probably waiting already." He’d leaned back against the shelf and shooed her, ignoring the definite bulge underneath the fly of his cargo pants.


That had been early on, when they’d still been learning about each other and a little hesitant about "the full-contact sport," as Harper had said. As time went on, though, they’d both gotten more impatient, until one day that the two of them had been aboard the Maru. One suggestion later and they’d repaired to the bunkroom, stripping hastily before climbing up to Harper’s bunk.


At his request— "I’ve got a little more experience, so maybe I should be on top?"— she was on her back, with Harper lying between her legs, kissing her slowly and deeply and tracing lines on her skin as deliberately as if he was drawing a diagram. She’d moaned, pressed up against his erection— "Please don’t make me wait!"— and tried to encourage him by every method she could, short of manhandling him. Instead of doing what she wanted, he’d grinned and thrust against her, denying her penetration even as he rubbed against her clit. She’d moaned again, something that encouraged him to repeat the action. This time, though, his eyes had gone wide and he’d clapped a hand over her mouth as he froze.


The airlock to the Maru had been opening, and someone— Beka, she was muttering— stepped inside. Rommie had to carefully tilt her head back on the pillow to see her cross the galley and pick up a flexi lying on the counter. She’d stayed there, clicking through the flexi as if she was looking for something. The two of them stayed perfectly still as they watched her; Harper was barely even breathing as they waited. After another two minutes, though, Rommie got bored, and the ache was starting to be too much. Moving slowly, she tilted her head back to face Harper, who was still staring fixedly at Beka, and slid a hand between them. He jumped when she circled the head of him with her thumb and forefinger, and started to open his mouth, presumably to protest, before she slid her fingers down and up again. She’d grinned, feeling as wicked as he must have only a few minutes before, and he’d closed his eyes in defeat when she stroked him again. She still kept her touch just at the tip, and was encouraged when he started to push his hips forward in time, rubbing against her with every motion, something that appeased the throbbing in her own groin.


She was very, very glad that, unlike the rest of the usually-noisy Maru, the springs were too worn out to even protest the motion.


Harper’s thrusts had gradually gotten more enthusiastic, and she could feel herself responding, pushing her hips up to meet him with every motion. He seemed to be actually struggling to stay quiet, and she was starting to consider any way possible to get Beka out when she finally heard footsteps heading toward the airlock, and it cycling open and closed again. She risked another look to check visually that yes, the other woman had gone.


Relieved, Rommie had lifted her head just enough to whisper in his ear, "It’s okay, she left." She was surprised by Harper’s reaction: he gasped, shuddered above her, and she felt warm liquid spattering across her stomach and hand. "Harper!"


"Sorry," he gasped a minute later, after the last of the spasms had subsided. "I just— when you—"


"It’s fine," she assured him, although her stymied passion was rapidly mutating into irritation.


"One second, I’ll…" He gestured vaguely. And he had, although it was definitely not what she had been in the mood for.


Now, though… Rommie checked all of her sensors again, confirming what she already knew, before entering the cargo bay. Silently, she sent the command to lock the door and activate privacy mode before sliding off her boots and pants, equally quietly. She hesitated for a moment before deciding to leave the tunic-like top on. She wasn’t quite ready to ambush him completely naked, and while it was usually a good thing that she didn’t have to wear underwear she wouldn’t have minded an extra layer at right that second. Having made that decision, though, she headed for the X-1 parked in the middle of the bay.


Harper hadn’t wanted to build it again after the first one had been trashed by the Magog. Eventually, he’d decided to work on it again, this time moving it to a cargo bay for more room and a slightly better chance of ever removing it from the ship once it was finished. Now it stood almost complete, with a shiny metallic skin and Harper upside-down in the cockpit, legs hooked over onto the fuselage of the plane.


"Harper?"


"Huh? Oh!" The legs came down, he contorted in ways that she normally would have thought impossible in such a small space, and within seconds he was upright. "Hey. I was just working on the electronics, I think in a couple of weeks we’ll need to find a planet for the test flight. But I don’t think that’s why you came to find me."


"No, actually." Apparently he hadn’t yet noticed her lack of apparel. She gauged the height of the plane and his position, then jumped, landing carefully with her feet on either side of his and one hand on the nose to brace herself. The X-1 barely moved at all. "I came to tell you," she continued, settling herself on his thighs, "that everyone else on board is asleep, with the exception of Trance, and she’s on duty on Command deck. Additionally, there are no threats in this vicinity of space that my sensors can detect, and nothing in the immediate area around me larger than, well, you."


"So, uh…" He looked down her body and back up, grinning widely. "We’ve got downtime."


"Exactly." Rommie grinned back and tugged the top off, dropping it beside the plane as Harper reached a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down for a kiss.


It started as a fairly sweet, gentle kiss, but Rommie pushed it, quickly making it aggressive when she pulled away long enough to nip at his lower lip before crushing their mouths together again.


"Mmph!" Harper caught her hands when she reached for his waistband, breaking the kiss again long enough to say, "Hey, slow down! Don’t you think we should maybe take some time for this?"


She stopped and considered him. His expression suggested that he meant it, his vitals that he wasn’t prevaricating, at least insofar as she could distinguish from the arousal that was already starting to affect the readings. At five seconds, she stated, "While I’m aware that humans tend to place a great deal of importance on their first penetrative experience, I think we can dispense with that, considering how many times we’ve already been in some kind of sexual situation together. Furthermore," and this time when she reached for his zipper he didn’t stop her, "I want to be with you before we get attacked again, and that may be any time now, given how often we have someone trying to kill us."


Between them, they managed to get his shirt off and his pants opened, shoving them down below his hips. She’d just gotten him free, stroking him with one hand to get him fully hard, when he slid his hands around her waist and eased her forward so her back was curved. The new position tilted her torso, making her breasts easily accessible, and he immediately leaned forward to suck at one of her nipples. She shuddered at the feel, tightening her hand on him. He moaned in response, his mouth still on her breast, and she closed her eyes at the sensation.


"I need you," she managed, knowing she sounded raw.


He let go of her, pulled away. "Okay, one second, this is going to be hard." She felt the urge to giggle, irrationally, but repressed it while he hesitated, then slid down a little bit in the seat, swearing when his knees smacked the front console. The cockpit was really too small for this. Rommie heard the thud but ignored it, shifting forward and barely avoiding hitting her own knees on the back panel. She could only be glad that he hadn’t put in the canopy yet.


Then they were level with each other and he was pressing against her. She lifted up, bracing herself with her hands on the seatback, since she didn’t think that he’d appreciate handprints on either the frame or his shoulders. It only took a second for him to orient himself, and then she eased slowly down onto him, feeling him push steadily inside her.


It seemed like forever before their bodies pressed together. It was almost too much, more than she’d ever done before. She could feel herself quivering around him and wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hold out. Harper didn’t seem very stable, either, his cheeks and chest flushed pink. Carefully, thinking only of the glide of him inside her, Rommie moved up just a little and then slid back down, making him groan.


That first motion was a little uncomfortable, her body still adjusting, and Harper didn’t even try to control it for the first few minutes, letting her relax, but they quickly fell into a rhythm, thrusting against each other frantically. Soon Rommie was in agony— she was so close, but not quite there, and Harper’s movements were beginning to falter as he was driven to his limit. "Help me," she breathed, forcing the words out, "please, Harper, help me—" and she broke off as his thumb slid over her clit in a pattern that was nothing like the one either of them was moving in, but it did what she wanted. She wailed, briefly and desperately, before all her muscles clenched and she lost all sense of what was around her.


It wasn’t a long time, according to her internal chronometer, but it felt like an hour later when Rommie opened her eyes, having regained full control of her movements. She was aware that Harper had orgasmed already while she was in the throes of her own, but he was still inside her, his hands resting on the small of her back. He had a wide smile on his face, despite the fact that his breath was still ragged. "We did it."


He nodded. "Yeah." He grimaced then when he tried shifting his leg. "Um, not to complain about the postcoital bliss or anything, but can we move? This is really uncomfortable."


Rommie grinned, still euphoric from the high, and got off of him, hopping down to the floor once she’d disentangled her limbs from his. She watched as he stood up carefully and climbed down, fastening his pants once he was standing. "I’m sorry about the location, but…" She shrugged.


"It’s okay." He retrieved both of their shirts, wadding his into a ball and handing hers over. She promptly burst out laughing. "What?!"


"We just— In the X-1!" She couldn’t have explained why it struck her as so funny, but it took till Harper kissed her to quiet her. It was eager and intense, and when it ended they simply looked at each other for a moment.


"My quarters?" Harper suggested. "I can’t— mmph—" she kissed him again, "not yet, but it’ll be more comfortable and we can—"


"Yes," she answered, cutting him off. She waited a second then grinned again, threw her shirt at him, and took off running.


"Hey!" And he dropped both of their shirts and sprinted after her, his speed checked by the snickers she could hear from her place ahead of him.


 


The End



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