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Victria

"One Day in Paradise"

The tables were set, the bar was stocked, and the dabo girls were changing. Time to start yet another day at the Holy Grail. Normally Travis Kroells wouldn't be up this early. Normally he'd be nursing a hangover, or some other excuse to make his employees actually earn their keep, but not today. Today was a special day. The Excalibur was back in town, and by the numbers her crew filled his pockets more than any other Starfleet ship in the quadrant. All of those horrific classified mission forced people to find any way they could to wind down.

 

This Varen fellow was Travis's type. The ship had been sitting in port for nearly fifteen minutes before the crew flooded out. Hold them by the leash, get them salivating before setting them loose. Made the latinum flow even more. As he stood behind the bar, his best customer service smile plastered on, four women in science blue shuffled by, moving down the promenade as if some seasonal sale was on and they'd all just gotten hold of daddy's line of credit. Any minute the regulars would flow in, which included Mark Garrison. He would perch on his usual bar stool, blow what money he had on booze, and complain about his lack of a personal life, rigors of being a senior officer and what not. He wouldn't talk to any of the lovely women sitting around him, for reasons known and unknown, and Travis would string him along with enough lines to keep him from leaving, but not get out of his seat. It was what friends were for.

 

So that customer service smile dropped into an open mouth hang when Mark walked in with Victria, sporting a demeanor that could almost be described as pleasant. Maybe mischievous. It wasn't until he had led her over, sat her down next to him at the bar, and began to stare blankly at Travis, that Kroells had regained his composure enough to clear his throat and address them. "Mark, Victria! What a pleasant surprise. I have to admit, I'm shocked to see you two here together."

 

"I do not quite take your meaning," Victria said with a flash of teeth. She turned to peer sidelong at Mark. "What does he mean together? Does he think me incapable of spending time with humans, like a typical human usually does? Was that an insult?" She acted affronted, but of course it was only an act. Had she really been insulted, she would have reached across the bar and ripped the tender's throat out. Blue eyes slid back to Travis and a slight smirk twitched at her lips.

 

"Of course not my dear, I was just saying, given the events that transpired the last time you two graced my establishment," He gave them a pleasant smile. This had less drama, but he had to give into the fact that it also meant less repair bills. "Well, it's good to see you've managed to patch up the rough spots. What can I get you?"

 

"Whiskey sour," Mark promptly replied. "And for her...why don't you let her try that drink you told me about in your last comm. It's ready, isn't it?"

 

"Mmhmm." Travis quickly poured Mark's drink, and then shuffled into the store room behind the bar.

 

Victria peered at the bottle in Travis' hand when he returned, gaze following the line of liquid as he poured. She pulled the glass to her and sniffed the contents, both eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Alcohol... and... human? Not the most exotic of alien blends, but an interesting one." Her attention shifted back to Travis as she took a sip and let the liquid dance over her tongue. "Very impressive. Even more impressive considering that you have very little reason to cater to my tastes... unless this is an attempt to keep me from collecting what you promised last time I was here." She smiled wickedly, knowing Travis made no such promise, but Mark didn't know that.

 

"Err...um, well," Travis's eyes darted to Mark and then quickly back to Victria. Mark, to his benefit didn't react, but Travis's reaction certainly seemed to show something was just unspoken. "I must apologize if I seem... un-exotic," again the eyes darted. "But for the life of me I couldn't get anyone else to volunteer."

 

"I'm sure," Mark butted in. "I'm curious myself though, if this is some attempt to cater to her specifically, or if you eventually plan on making an attempt at marketing... this... to the Al-Ucard people." He told Victria his jealous stage was over, but this was a little bothersome. He supposed he should've asked Travis for more information when he told Mark he'd finally created alcohol Victria could stomach.

 

"Marketing," she said bluntly, guessing. "If the Scorpiad continue to have a presence here, there will no doubt be Al-Ucardian slaves that accompany them. And though they are certainly well fed, perhaps they might be let off their leash to spy on the locals." She took another drink and licked her lips, eyeing Travis in a very predatory manner. "Un-exotic or no, you still taste quite good." She smiled slowly as she held her glass for a refill, enjoying making him uncomfortable.

 

Mark took a sip of his drink while he eyed Travis pouring her another serving, with some unease. 'Let her have her fun' he figured, as he continued to sip. "I suppose we can get him to lend us a bottle to take with," he said, glancing over at her. "Actually Travis, we didn't come here just to share drinks. I'm interested in renting out one of those holosuites of yours. We're going on a bit of a vacation."

 

"Really?" Travis turned his full attention to Mark. Anything to take his mind off the fact that his plan to serve himself up in a glass to Victria (to avoid her fangs) was backfiring horribly. He swiftly pulled out a catalog, catching her gaze as he handed it to Mark. "Well, look through here and decide...quickly."

 

Victria continued to smile as she took another drink. The alcohol tended to burn off very quickly, but it wasn't unpleasant. Turning her attention to Mark, she leaned closer to peer at the catalog. "Are there any Hunting holos in there? Perhaps a midnight run through the city?" She ached for Al-Ucard, to join the Hunt once more, but there was little possibility of that when her people were at war.

 

Mark pulled back, denying her access to the padd. "We hunted last time. Well, more apt to say you hunted. I was lost, and hunted." He turned to Travis. "See, few months ago we had a couple days off. She approaches me and says she wants to take me hunting. Right then and there my instincts fired off, but curious about her culture and what not, I agree. It was night the entire time, nothing but a pale moonlight. Not an hour in, she disappears, and I was left to run through the forest and fend for myself. The things she hunts could make a grown Klingon wet himself."

 

"So no," he turned back to her. "We are not going hunting. We're going somewhere...with a beach...and waves, plenty of waves. I intend to break out my surf board, and actually enjoy myself. Not be chased by twelve foot beasts with three rows of flesh-ripping teeth."

 

She frowned, giving him a dour look. "It was a good Hunt. I made several kills that night. I thought it was challenging. I was unaware that you did not have the same experience." Leaning with one elbow on the counter, she turned away from them both to survey the rest of the bar, eyeing the Dabo girls as they pandered to the gambling crowd and kept them distracted. "I do hope you realize that a typical daytime outing is not possible for me. Artificially created sunlight still generates ultraviolet."

 

"Ah, normally that'd be true, for a Starfleet holodeck," Travis chimed in. "You guys are a bit behind on the...leisure side of things. Al-Ucards aren't the only species in the galaxy with sensitivity to UV rays. My holosuites can tweak just about every bit of a natural environment. I can turn off the UV, adjust the gravity, hell, I can turn the sun purple if you'd like. You know Mark, Pacifica would be a great choice. It has a weak main stage yellow star. Produces plenty of warmth, but not as much light as a lot of other resort planets such as Risa."

 

"Pacifica sounds perfect old friend. I'll leave it up to you to set up the locale and what not. How long do you think it should take to set up?" Mark was positively beaming. It was impossible to tell however, if it was over the notion of enjoying a little surf, or being able to drag Victria along with him.

 

"Hmm...half hour to an hour, give or take. In the mean time, feel free to gamble, drink, enjoy the offerings of the house. Just make sure you get the latinum transferred over before you go in. You do have the latinum, right?"

 

"What is latinum?" Victria asked, teasingly.

 

"Oh boy," Travis let out a long sigh. "You owe me Mark. I'll put this on your ever expanding tab. For now." With that he walked off, grumbling. Leave it to Mark and Victria to start him off with one of those days.

 

------------------------------------

 

The holosuite brought them through the front door of their hotel, The Pacifican (originality wasn't one of Travis's strong suits). It was warm, and sunny. Mark wore a pair of blue swim shorts with a open floral shirt, allowing him to properly enjoy the environment. It sure beat the Excalibur. Well, this was artificial too...but it felt a lot more real than the computer controlled and lit starship. Even if Victria ran off for the next two days, he could still enjoy himself.

 

The doors opened behind him and Victria stormed in, stopping short in the shade of the door's awning. "Just what kind of foolish clothing is this supposed to be?" She yanked up the long-sleeved shirt she wore to reveal the black bikini top that barely covered her breasts. "I'm assuming this was the top, anyhow. The bottoms seemed to be made of even less fabric. Is this Travis' idea of a joke?" she asked with a scowl. "Because I have now had a taste of his blood and could do with more."

 

Marks grin broke into an appreciative stare. He'd seen her with nothing on at all, but there was a large gap between that, and her usual attire. If she didn't look so furious, it almost would have been sensual. "I imagine he did it for me. Years with the Ferengi may have given him a great poker face, but he's a little scared of you...rightfully so." He glanced her over again. "If you'd like, I'm sure there are means to alter your attire, though I doubt you'll improve your coverings much. We should check in, and head to our room, there might be a change of clothes there."

 

"According to the program, we are already guests of the hotel." She pointed to a bungalow a few paces down the beach that sat with others of its type. It butted up against a crystal-clear cove that was sheltered from the rest of the pounding ocean by a natural reef. Victria moved in that direction, but cringed instinctively when she reached the line where shade met sun. She stuck her hand out into the light to convince herself it wasn't real. Letting out a deep breath, she stepped out into the sunlight and squinted as she moved down the path. "It is too bright here," she muttered.

 

He frowned slightly as they walked. It was quite perfect to him, but he also counted himself lucky that he was still walking...a little compromise was in order. "Should work easily enough as our holodecks...Computer," Beep beep. "Lower the ambient lighting by...twenty percent." He glanced upwards, as the sun itself seemed to dim. "Better?"

 

"Not really," she continued to squint. "I did not think to bring my filtering lenses, but perhaps the program could provide those too?" The light was beginning to give her a headache and her headache was beginning to make her irritable. She stepped into the bungalow when they reached it, thankful for the shade. The airy rooms were open to the beach outside and all of the windows were propped open with thin curtains blowing in the breeze. The bed was surrounded by netting, something that mystified Victria until she remembered the giant insects on the swamp world. She moved to the closet to inspect the contents.

 

"I'm sure you can conjure something up. I'm going to take a look around, try not to disappear right away." He traveled through a door way, glancing around as he walked deeper into the bungalow. His first thought was of some sort of a replicator, but in reality the entire place was a giant one. Still, there was something in keeping to reality, so he was pleased when he discovered the well stocked kitchen and more cooking utensils then he could wish for in a life time. They'd get a work out though. It had been a long time since he actually cooked something, rather than speak its name and have it appear in a little alcove. The dining room was elegant, but not too ostentatious. The bathroom was what really caught his eye. It held a large Jacuzzi tub with more jets then he could count. His grin quickly grew childish. Considering he hadn't ascended to the ranks where they gave you an actual water shower in the fleet, Mark could count the times on his hands that he'd bathed with water, holographic or not. He chuckled as he mused on it. Mark Garrison: Goes on shore leave to bathe properly.

 

The closet consisted of mostly flimsy coverings and wraps and more of the same style of swimsuit she was already wearing. Victria sighed and took out a sari-wrap with floral patterns. She held up the material for inspection and frowned. It wasn't much, but it was better than the heavy pants and shirt she was wearing now. She was already beginning to become uncomfortable on the overheated planet. Quickly removing her shirt, pants, and boots, she tied the wrap around her waist and peered at herself in the full-length mirror. She was strongly reminded of the time that Laarell dressed her up in traditional Orion-whore garb and had pranced her about that bar on their 'recon' mission. There certainly wasn't much to the outfit. It was good that she wasn't shy. Looking around, she did find a table that held several pairs of eyewear. She tried on one of them and peered toward the brightness, pleased to find the blaring light dimmed to an acceptable level.

 

"I found something interesting," she said, strolling into the bathroom with another pair swinging from her hand.

 

"Oh, what's that?" He turned from his perch, leaning against a door frame leading into a sun room, with a spectacular view of the ocean. He joined her, nodding approvingly at the change of clothing. "Sorry, I suppose I forgot to mention the beach can get rather...hot. What did you find?"

 

"These," she said, sliding them onto his face. "They help." She turned to stare at the beach, watching the waves roll in. Her thoughts drifted briefly to her underwater excursion on Satarimi. She wondered if Mark had ever gone diving. "It really is beautiful," she observed. "I wonder what sorts of predators lurk beneath the water."

 

"Hopefully none," he chuckled as she sighed. "I don't think Travis would have a very good customer experience if one of his patrons was attacked by some predator. We could go out there if you like. I haven't gone scuba diving in a long, long time but I think I remember the basics. But if you're going to get me in the water, the absolute first thing I must do is surf."

 

"Dare I ask what 'surf' is?" She turned to peer sideways at him in curiosity.

 

"You take a long board...a surfboard, and use it to move along the face of a breaking ocean wave. It's really exhilarating. I could show you if you like. I might be a bit rusty though...I haven't gotten a chance to ride since Satarimi..." He decided not to mention Doug butting in, wiping out, him taking him back up the ship. That had been about the gist of his shore leave there.

 

"You do it for the thrill, then? It is some type of challenge or competition?" She glanced to the water again and took a hesitant step into the sunlight. The glasses helped with the glare, but she could almost feel the sensation of burning alive. She had to stop herself from thinking about it.

 

"They have competitions," He followed her, removing his shades. "But I prefer the simple challenge of it. How large of a wave I can ride. It's really not all that difficult, once you get the hang of it. Mostly just balance. I could teach you."

 

"You have not even asked me if I can swim," she pointed out. "Al-Ucard has little in the way of open water."

 

"Well, if you couldn't swim, I imagine out little boating adventure with Charlotte and Maryse would have ended on a sour note," He put an arm around her shoulder. "You'll do fine."

 

She smirked. "Of course I will. I have perfect balance."

 

---------------------------------

 

For what seemed like the hundredth time in a row, Victria lost her balance and fell sideways into the wave. The board would have shot off without her had it not been for the line that anchored it to her ankle. As she surfaced, another wave broke over and she went under sputtering. When she surfaced again, she screamed in frustration. "I do NOT like this activity."

 

"I thought you said you had perfect balance?" Mark was floating nearby, sitting on his board. This was turning into a mixture of amusement and frustration. Amusement, because he had somehow managed to find the one activity Victria couldn't master in short work. Frustration because he was left to play teacher, and had passed up more than a few nice waves coach her from the sidelines. "Look, forget what I said about balance. Well, it's important, but there is a matter of instinct to it as well. You have to get a feel for it, it takes time."

 

She growled under her breath and gritted her teeth, climbing back on the board and straddling it as she waited for another wave. It rose and fell beneath her as a lesser wave passed and failed to crest. "Just go... enjoy yourself," she snapped. "I will master this, but not with you hovering."

 

He raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, alright. Just remember, there's such a thing as trying too hard. Let the wave take you." With that he swam out a distance, waiting for a good wave to rise. When one finally began to form, he turned the board around and began to move with it. As it grew and began to crest he pushed off the board, doing a little hop, and then standing on it. He rode along the wave as it crashed behind him, sticking his hand out to feel the inside, letting the water splash against him. It was thrilling, and in many ways this simple act defined Mark Garrison. Sink or swim, succeed or fail. There was no grey area for him, no, either you rode life's wave, or it rode you under. As the wave finally dissipated and crashed around him, sending him riding out of a flurry of white wash, until his acceleration faded, and he sunk back into the water with a satisfied smile.

 

"Show off," she muttered, having watched Mark's progress. She could feel his exhilaration and hated him for it. Deciding that one more try wouldn't kill her, she turned and emulated his movements, paddling the board out to deeper water where she turned and waited for the next wave. As it rose up beneath her, she began to paddle frantically toward the shore, keeping up with the wave as best she could. As it began to crest above her, she once again attempted to stand. The board wobbled beneath her, but she quickly found her balance and stance. Soon, she was riding along with the wave... until she overcompensated for the speed and tipped head over board into the water again. Apparently ripped from her ankle, the board continued along with the wave until it lost momentum. She surfaced some distance away, fuming.

 

Mark's smile of hope turned into a grimace of despair as he watched her tumble again. It actually looked like, for a second, she might have had that one. He wished he could do more for her. The board mount had always been his trouble spot, once he got up, staying up was easy. Ironically it seemed to be the opposite for her. It only took a few waves before she had mastered it, but staying standing had proven more than difficult. As he swam back to her, his enjoyment faded into something a moot point. For every exciting wave he had, her frustration seemed to cancel it out, and now as she paddled out in the water, board nowhere to be seen he was ready to call it. Lest she break the board, or him. "Maybe we should take a break for today. There will always be more waves."

 

Treading water, she sighed. "No, you were enjoying yourself. I am going to swim back in and rest for a while. Please continue. Perhaps I will see where my mistakes are happening." She left him then, swimming with strong strokes back to the shore. Her endurance was excellent. When her feet touched bottom, she wasn't even remotely winded. She climbed out, water sheeting off her pale skin, and dropped to the sand beneath one of the sunshades set there.

 

He watched her swim, until he could no longer make out her features, before letting out a small sigh. Well, it hadn't turned out as well as he hoped, but at least better then he feared. With some more practice he was sure she'd be able to make a go of it. She did want to go diving, maybe that would raise-- He either heard it or sensed it, he didn't know which was first, and it didn't really matter, but as a large wave began to form, the largest thus far, he swam out to meet it with determination, whatever he was just thinking off quickly forgotten.

 

---------------------------------

 

There were a hundred fun things to do in the water. Surfing, wakeboarding, hell, sitting in an inflatable tube and having some fool pull you along in a boat at unsafe speeds. So, as he sat under the water, breathing apparatus stuck in his mouth, to say this was a compromise was to understate the fact. Nearby, Victria gracefully swam by in her bikini. Okay, maybe it was a decent compromise. He got to see her in that and she got to take him diving. Diving, the only water activity she seemed to like. Maybe because that's what she'd done with what's his face from Satarimi before riding him and chomping on his neck? Ugh. Think positive thoughts, Mark, the bond is ever present.

 

The scenery was beautiful. The reef was abundant with life of all sorts, save for the larger predators that Victria probably wanted to test herself against. Huge mountains of coral rose all about them, spiraling upwards from multiple sources. The sunlight filtered through the water, sending muted shafts of blue-green dancing on all surfaces. Schools of fish darted and wove in and about them, flashing silver sides and bellies of multi-hued scales. The deeper they dove, the more abundant the schools

became. Enjoying the sensation of weightlessness, Victria held out her hand to one of the passing groups, waiting patiently as they swam in to investigate. Before one could dart away, she snagged it easily and held it up for Mark's inspection, proud of her triumph. It was a brightly colored fish that wriggled wildly to get away. She held it by one fin for a moment and then released it to watch it swim away.

 

The mask didn't leave much for facial expression but he gave her a small nod of approval. The scenery was indeed beautiful, but Mark wasn't much of one to enjoy such things. From what he'd experienced of Victria she seemed to be mostly the same, but this experience seemed to hold some sway over her, so he decided to try and enjoy it for her. It was rather peaceful, and he did claim he was taking this vacation to relax, so why not give it a try. He swam a little deeper towards the collections of coral.

 

The coral came in multiple hues and shapes, each more interesting than the last. Tiny creatures scuttled and swam about in the relative protection of the reef. As Mark's hand brushed past an outcropping, an eel darted out of its den to snap at what it perceived was a meal, but actually turned out to be Mark's fingers. It clamped down on his last two fingers, shaking its head in a painful sawing motion as it tried to remove the digits.

 

Apparently Travis's holosuites safety features prevented loss of life, but not loss of fingers. The artificial hue of the ocean instantly disappeared as the eel's teeth sank into Garrison's flesh, only the bone stopping its swift clamp. Mark howled in pain, but underwater it translated into more of a gurgle and a flurry of bubbles rising out of his breathing mask. His arm flailed about in a vain attempt to smash the creatures head against the rock face it had darted out of.

 

Snatching his flailing wrist, Victria gripped it tightly to keep it from moving and grabbed the creature by the muzzle. It's wickedly sharp teeth cut into her fingers as she dug her hand inside its mouth until she could get enough force to pry it from Mark's hand. With a quick snap, she broke the eel's jaw in half and left it to float away, dead. Kicking hard, she dragged Mark to the surface, yanking out her breather as she broke free of the water and pulled his hand up for inspection.

 

"Son of a bitch!!" Mark howled as his mask was taken off, probably loud enough to be heard back at the beach. His mangled hand was bleeding profusely, and shaking involuntarily out of pain. Along with that, a creeping sense of embarrassment began to rise out of the depths. Not so much that Victria had to save him from certain disfigurement, but that it had happened in the first place. His undamaged hand thrashed to keep him afloat as Victria studied the other.

 

"Trust me," was all she said before she stuck both bloody fingers in her mouth and began to suck. Her tongue ran over his broken flesh and her eyes half closed in pleasure. She clung to him, treading water to keep her afloat and to keep him from sinking.

 

He watched her work in stark confusion. In a different situation he could have welcomed this sort of thing, but this wasn't his usual cup of tea. Had she not asked for his trust, he would've pulled his fingers out and demanded they paddle over to the first aid station. However, she long ago earned that trust, so he let her continue, hoping for the best.

 

When she released his fingers, she grimaced and took a mouthful of salty water, spitting it off to the side. She inspected his wounded flesh again and then released his hand. His fingers were still mangled, but they had stopped bleeding. The toxic slime that had been covering them from the eel's bite was also gone. "Can you swim to shore or do you need assistance?" she asked without emotion.

 

He looked over his hand with some amazement before looking back to her. "I should be able to make it. Thanks. How did you...wait...I probably don't want to know."

 

"Probably not," she agreed before swimming back to dry land.

 

---------------------------------

 

The wind whipped through their hair as the boat skimmed over the choppy water, bouncing wildly over the trenches. In the seat beside him, Victria laughed in delight, but her words were ripped away by the wind. "Faster," she mouthed. Behind them, the boat left a trail of foam, stirring up the water in a frenzy and sending off an infinite number of waves.

 

He couldn't help but follow that command. Mark smirked as he punched the throttle down further, increasing the boat's speed. If his shades weren't securely fastened to his head, he was sure they'd blow right off. Any sort of conversation was impossible, but the bond they shared clearly let him know that faster was better.

 

She leaned forward in her seat and clutched the dash of the boat just below the wind screen. Her fingers gripped the solid surface tightly as she turned to face the bow. Suddenly, she closed her eyes and threw out her arms, letting the wind and the spray flow past and caress her. She bared her fangs, grinning wildly and enjoying the adrenaline of the ride.

 

Mark's chuckle was swept away in the wind as he watched Victria let about as loose as he'd ever seen. He had to admit, it was very attractive, and almost...human. He marveled how easy this was. Sure, the only other boat he'd operated had been destroyed by a giant lake monster, and the man at the rental shop had advised against pushing this thing too hard, but he had flown shuttlecraft a hundred times this speed and... THUMP. Whatever else Mark was thinking was cut off by a sudden hard wave. Bouncing his head off the wheel had a tendency to derail a train of thought. He leaned back into the seat with a groan, rubbing the spot on his forehead where he hit. He dared a glance over to Victria, where she would surely be laughing at his misfortune. He glanced...no Victria. Where could she have...oh no...

 

Water, at those speeds, acted much like a solid mass. Bounced from the boat, Victria found herself briefly airborne and then hurtling down towards the surface at an amazing rate. She hit the water flat on her back so violently that it drove the air from her lungs and made her head spin. She sank like a stone and then found herself breathing water. Choking, she clawed her way to the surface and gasped for air. Sharp pain shot through her left side and nearly caused her to slip under again. Clutching her ribs, she did her best to tread water, hoping Mark would quickly realize she was no longer with him and return to pick her up.

 

It didn't take long before Mark had found her, the pain in his side served as a good homing beacon. Pulling up alongside, he pulled her out of the water as gingerly as he could, but managed to cause a few stabs of pain in both of them despite himself. He gently placed his hand on her side, confirming his fear, but couldn't bring himself to tell her just how many ribs he'd broken. Trying his best to be a man he glanced up to her eyes. "Err...sorry?"

 

She peered up at him from the bottom of the boat, pale, soggy, and miserable. Clutching her broken ribs, she gritted her teeth and grated out, "I'll think about it."

 

---------------------------------

 

The sun was shining bright, not a cloud in the sky. Mark's legs dangled in the air, as the pleasant smell of salt water enveloped him from below. It was a beautiful day, plenty of time to salvage this disaster of a--the harness jerked at him, breaking his thought. The harness, led to a cable, which led to a boat, which had Victria behind the wheel. It had been a unanimous decision that for parasailing, Victria would be the helmsman. Maybe that wasn't the best idea. "VICTRIA! DON'T JERK THE THROTTLE!" Mark howled from above.

 

A pity that even her sharp hearing couldn't pick out all of his words from so high up. "WHAT?" she shouted back. "JERK THE THROTTLE?" Though confused by what he meant and not the least bit familiar with most of the vehicle's controls, she did know which one controlled the speed. She threw it forward and turned the boat away from land, rounding the jutting peninsula ahead.

 

"NOOOOO!!!" The leisurely slack that allowed him to stay upright yet move forward was jerked away, painfully, at the area where his inner legs met his pelvis. He mouthed a silent gasp, now basically being dragged through the air, with the chute doing little more than flopping him around with the wind. Victria glanced back to see how he was doing, and he used the opportunity to flail his arms in every possible way to get her to slow down. Thankfully, she did understand the girlish wail coming from him. Cutting the power totally off, she let the boat drift and craned her neck upward to view his progress.

 

That was better, sort of, for a moment. As the boat's speed quickly dropped, so did his altitude. "No! No! Don't stop! AND DON'T JERK THE THROTTLE!"

 

Victria sighed and increased the power, sending the boat off at a moderate pace and then slowly increasing speed. She glanced back briefly to make sure he was doing alright, then returned her attention to driving. A small inlet appeared as they rounded the shore. It looked to have once been a long finger of beach, but time and the water had eroded it into two uneven islands. Too late to cut the boat and turn it to go around, she sped through the narrow channel, hoping it was deep enough.

 

The boat made it through with no problem, but she didn't account for the overhanging trees on either side. The line attached to Mark's parasail snagged and snapped as it was designed to do under such stress, saving him from being dragged through the trees. However, it could do nothing to stop him from floating down directly on top of them.

 

A grimace formed on Mark's face as Victria and the boat sped off towards the horizon. Slowly, a low groan came from his mouth, and began to grow until the sound of tree branches breaking ended it. First a crack, then a thump, then, two more cracks, and one more thump for good measure before his parachute caught, and dangled him about ten feet off the ground. There he hung, that low groan returning.

 

Victria brought the craft around as quickly as she could and sped back to the island, cutting the engines at the proper time so she could coast in to land. She peered up at Mark, assessing the situation with a frown. "Can you detach yourself or do you need help?" she called.

 

"I think I can get it...hold on." Mark held in another groan of pain. He hurt all over, and made sure Victria got that message loud and clear. His legs seemed to be spared the torment of the branches, so he could say he was lucky in that respect. Reaching around to unhook the various straps and hooks caused him to start spinning and swinging on the branch. Enough so, that once he had gotten about half way, the branch gave way, dropping him unceremoniously on the ground. He dropped his head back onto the dirt, defeated.

 

"Got it." He groaned.

 

She climbed carefully out of the boat (her broken ribs mending, but still very tender) and knelt beside him, removing the rest of the harness for him. "Is anything broken?" she asked. Her hands ran lightly over his limbs, checking for injuries.

 

"I'm sure there is," He winced as her hand traced over his collar bone, "but I hurt too much all over to be able to tell anything specific."

 

She sighed. "Another trip to the medic station. I am beginning to grow weary of this day."

 

He glanced to the west, where the sun was beginning to make its downward approach. "Don't worry, we check out tomorrow morning and then we're done with this vacation." He managed to flash his trademark smirk. "I think we might yet survive"

 

---------------------------------

 

Their hotel room was quiet. Night had fallen and the moon rose high in the sky, looking abnormally large as its pale blue light reflected over the tumbling water. A breeze flowed in with the rising tide and swept through the bungalow, cooling them and bringing in the sweet scents of the tropical plants that surrounded the building.

 

On the bed, Victria pressed herself against Mark, her hands lazily caressing his body. Her lips parted as he bent to kiss her, inviting further exploration. When they finally broke away, she drew back to peer at him, slender fingers running through his hair. "Perhaps this day might be salvaged after all," she suggested with a smile.

 

He returned the smile while his hands traveled down her sides, appreciating the silky smooth feeling of her skin. "Had I known what trying to have a relaxing shore leave with you had been like I would've," he stifled a yawn, "I would've saved the time and money and just stayed in bed all day. Sorry, seems our oceanic adventures have taken its toll." He smirked to cover up his weariness.

 

"Just as long as you have a tiny bit of energy left for one last adventure," she said. She leaned in and nuzzled his neck, using an enormous amount of self control to prevent herself from feeding. She nibbled at his ear and shifted slightly to kiss him again with a bit more force than before. Something in his body language made her pause, however. She rose up on one elbow to stare.

 

One last adventure he apparently did not have in him. As Victria pulled away, Mark's head turned slightly, to reveal a peacefully sleeping man. He had neglected to mention that as much as he enjoyed her attention to his ear, he also found it extremely relaxing. In the morning he would be disappointed in his in inability to stay awake, but right now, there was nothing but a content smile on his face.

 

Victria nearly screamed in frustration. Stalking out of the hut, she barked a command for the holo controls and had soon altered the program to suit her better. A few minutes later, she was hurtling through the jungle, hunting some twelve foot beast that had three rows of flesh-ripping teeth.

 

No more vacations, she vowed silently.

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