The following has been e-mailed privately in ever-expanding circles since its completion. It has never been posted to any list, but a number of you may already have seen it. For that, I apologize.

It's unbelievable, no point or plot. Sucky title. It's more an exercise in erotica than anything else. The goal was to have everyone do everyone else, implied or described, at one setting. While there are a number of male/male pairings, I don't know if I'm within the realm of slash or doing things no slash writer would ever consider. Some of the bits and scenes struck me favorably, and you may see those words show up out of context, used with different, more singular pairings, or in different situations entirely. When you do, promise not to laugh. ;D



Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained herein are the property of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Hard Eight Productions and the Fox Broadcasting Network. These names have been used without their permission. Rights to the actors themselves belong to their parents, to whom we are most grateful. The rest belongs to me, Paula "Spanky" Morris, and my dangerously whacked imagination (why anyone would claim such rights, I have *no* earthly idea). This story has been distributed privately and now through the erotic list. If you receive this story online from anyone other then this list or PMo981 @aol.com please contact me immediately. Don't print, 'zine, copy, smoke-signal, morse code or anything else it, without my permission either.

Contains strong language, and sexual (m/m, m/f, f/f) situations of an explicit nature. Personal discretion is advised.

OK, enough blithering. On with the dirt:

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Wild, Wild Cards

by Paula "Spanky" Morris



Commodore Glen Ross ambled woozily down the corridor, on his way back to his quarters after one of the best Christmas parties the Saratoga had ever celebrated, war or no war. He had a warm glow in his middle for all things alive this evening, even the demon Chigs, and was feeling especially giddy and dazzled, a bit light-footed. It hadn't been just Astrogation's Aqua-Velva hooch; no, as commanding officer, he had felt he owed all departments' attempts at circumventing the drink cards an equal opportunity to make him puke his guts out. So there had been Medical's rubbing alcohol- and lineament-based cocktail of cold medicine and carefully-measured quantities of muscle relaxants. He had felt it was safe; they were doctors after all, and the effect had been...masterful.

Then Weapons had bowed in with something reminiscent of deck plating melted with a laser. It had smelled like the aftermath of a missile test burn and had the consistency and color of unrefined fuel oil. Stores had provided the piece' de resistance, however, with an unlikely but delightful liqueur concocted of fermented prune juice, the stuff used to polish the silverware and the sterno still available in the ship's old-fashioned chaffing dishes. It had smelled of forgotten, sun-warmed orchards, tasted like molten gold going down, and had kicked like an old-time Marine mule when it had hit his stomach. He and McQueen had resolved to keep their's moving, so as not to burn a hole in the ceiling.

He may not have been drunk hours ago when he had provided an impromptu concert for Ty's lost kids, but he was well and truly blitzed out of his mind at this moment. Only training and long experience at this type of determined celebration kept him on his feet.

Ross stopped and looked around. Damn. He had done it again. This was the third time he had missed the turn for his quarters; now he was down in the under decks where the lower ranks berthed. He turned and started in the right direction when he heard a noise. The buzzing in his ears kept him from identifying it or pinpointing its direction for a moment. Then he realized someone was crying, and it was coming from one of the small wardrooms scattered around this part of the ship. He stumbled towards the sound, curious.

When he entered the lounge, he saw no one. He thought maybe he had imagined it, or mistargeted, when several pitiful sniffles and another heartbroken sob came from beneath one of the tables. He bent, then squatted beside the small body curled around the table stanchion. It was one of Ty's kids...Damphousse. Vanessa Damphousse. It surprised him to find her alone. The rest of the 58th could still be at the party, or could be having their own private survival celebration by now. But the first members of the squad usually did everything, went everywhere together. What was up with this one?

He tried to recall her folder. A bright, happy young woman, with too big a heart to be warrior, in his opinion. Lots of technical experience.

Stable, and little trouble, unlike some of her friends...though there had been that one time.... But everyone in her squad had gone strange on that one, so he saw no need to hold it against her now. He reached out, wrapped a big hand around her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. "Lieutenant? Vanessa? What's wrong?"

She rolled over with a quiet wail and didn't even look at him before winding herself about his boots in a tight little coil. Drunk. Very drunk. Well? So was he. He stroked her shoulders and back as she cried, pointlessly muttering "there, there" over and over, until he realized how stupid it sounded. "Come on," he soothed, slurring the words a bit, "tell the Commodore...tell me why you're crying."

"It's Christmas," she moaned.

"I know, honey, I know. What's bad about Christmas that it makes you cry?" He sounded silly even to himself, but his drink-fogged brain wasn't coming up with any more intelligent responses. And he'd just called a subordinate "honey." He cringed; but then, she was drooling on his shoes. It must have made sense to Vanessa, however, because she hiccupped and started talking. "I want my snow. There's no snow out here, just cold. If I were home, there would be snow, and we'd be opening presents, and Dad would sing, and we'd go out and the pines would be full of sparrows and crows and and nuthatches and we'd throw raisins and bacon fat on the snowcrust for them and...and..." She broke into another long, sorrowful moan.

Homesick. He could certainly understand that. Didn't really know what he could do about it. Couldn't just let her lie here, either. Ty wouldn't appreciate him leaving one of his Wild Cards on the floor where just anyone could trip over her. Carefully, he unwound her from around his ankles, steadied himself with his head against the table, and got her into a precarious fireman's carry. Standing required a great many physics computations and restarts. Finally, he was vertical and staggering with her to the door. Looking up and down the corridor, he saw no one. He realized they weren't far from the showers near the 58th's racks. Maybe he could sober her up a bit and get her to bed. As he wound his way down the hall, listing decidedly to port, she dangled against him in a familiar way, her arms smacking against his backside. She giggled, going from tears to laughter too fast to suit Ross. He stopped as she pinched his butt and giggled again. He sighed; the things he did for his people. He hefted her up and continued rambling to the showers.

More bouncing and several pinches later -- he was starting to like it -- they finally made it to their destination. The showers were divided by a long, central, free-standing wall, with large stalls marked off by short dividers. Each big stall had six spray heads, two on each of its three sides. He propped her up in a corner, stepped over to adjust the temperature and angle of the spray for one of the heads and turned on the water. But none of the cold, sobering stream hit the lieutenant; she had slid to the floor.

Ross got her up and tried the maneuver again. He almost sprayed her before she slipped passed him once more. With another sigh, he decided he was already wet, so what the hell.... he pulled her up, pinned her with his body, and hit the on pad. Except he hit the temperature and spray control, too, and now, instead of an icy sting, they were washed with waves of pulsating warmth. Vanessa laughed, tilted her head back and drank the water, then caught a mouthful and squirted it at him. Ross found himself grinning; her new spirit was contagious. He had a hard time remembering who she was and why they were here. He knew it simply felt good.

With a shake, a small functioning portion of his brain reminded him of his rank. He started to pull away, but she began to slip again. And this time, she reached out and grabbed his shirt, carefully working on the buttons. He slapped ineffectually at her hands and she shrugged elaborately, shifted her hands to removing her own tan shirt and tie as she regained a semblance of equilibrium. She leaned against him, dragging her shirt tails out of her waistband and working the shirt off. It hung on her wrists, pulling her arms back, and her breasts pushed into him. Her plain white bra, her hard little nipples showing so provocatively through the wet fabric, was suddenly the most erotic garment Ross had ever seen. He stepped backwards to get away from her, slipped on a bar of soap and fell. Vanessa came down with him, laughing. She straddled his thigh, picked up the bar of soap that had slipped him and began to run it all over his body. He tried to get her off him, to crawl away, but she was insistent. He would never get free unless he hurt her, and besides, part of him just wanted to relax and ease into the seduction. That's how the rest of the 58th found them.



They burst in, laughing, tumbling over one another, goofy-drunk and happy as hell. Paul came first, dropping to his knees and sliding across the floor to slam into them. His arms went around them both, steadying himself. "Hey, 'Phousse! You won! Kelly's passed out in her Hammerhead! That's a hundred, girl!"

"Paulie. Merry Christmas." She grinned at him drowsily, reached out and pulled him into a kiss. Ross was suddenly, vividly aware of their hot, tight bodies trapping his. He really needed to get out of here, but he couldn't seem to move either. At least the kids seemed too drunk to even know who he was, and for once, he wasn't about to remind them.

Coop had whooped and started turning on all the showerheads as soon as he hit the steamy interior of the room. Now he grabbed a squealing Shane and held her under one of the streams. She twisted, freed herself and grabbed a bottle of shampoo, shooting a long stream at him. He started after her, but Nathan was there, slinging a wet towel into his face and dancing back. Coop roared with mock anger, dragged the towel off his head and charged them. He got them both around the shoulders and shoved them, screaming and giggling, back into one of the stalls.

Paul broke the kiss with Vanessa and grinned. Letting out his own war whoop, he jumped up and headed for the developing water fight. Halfway to the fray, he stopped in the midst of getting his tie off, turned and frowned at Ross. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Then he grabbed a bar of soap, shot it at Coop's head and followed it with a leap onto the big kid's back. Vanessa went back to giving Ross a bath with his clothes on. Closing his eyes, the wild yells and laughter of the other...children... reverberating around him, Ross decided to just wait for the rinse cycle and try to sneak out unnoticed then.

When he opened his eyes again, the rest of the Cards had managed to shuck their shoes and most of their soaked clothing. Paul had gotten down to shorts, and Nathan and Coop were only wearing their pants. Shane's wet tanktop and underwear revealed far more than they concealed, the shadow of her pubic hair subtly visible, her nipples hard and dark against the fabric of the shirt. They were pelting her with bars of soap, and she was holding them off with the sopping wet towel she was now slinging. Every so often, she would dart in among them, her wet hair flying, dragging across their skin as she passed, her body flowing along their's. They would close in on her then, their muscles -- shoulder, thigh, buttocks -- hard against each other as they tried to capture her.

The water fight was tumbling 'round the bend, loudly, slowly, festively making it's way back towards them, when McQueen stumbled in. Probably stopped to check that all his Wild Cards were nestled snug in their racks, had a prune juice liquor-induced panic attack when he couldn't find them, and came looking, Ross groused to himself. Great. Bad as a fast day on the flight deck in here. He saw the Colonel enter the shower area, gape about him at who was doing what with who, and quickly slap the lock closed. Good man. At least no one else will be wandering in on this. Ty squelched carefully over to him and Vanessa and crouched under the soothing spray beside them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Glen?" his friend hissed at him quietly. "What are those young idiots playing at?"

Ross stared into the pale eyes and watched Ty wobble as he tried to hold his position. He could tell the man was having as much trouble focusing as he was. Probably seeing two of this, he thought, which would have to look even worse than I can imagine it.

"Ty, it is not what you think," he protested. Just then, Vanessa, who had been lazily soaping his hair, giggled and pulled his shirt open wider. Both men watched as she dumped at least half a bottle of shampoo slowly onto his chest and stomach and, with great concentration, began to rub it into a lather. They stared at each other. They stared at Vanessa. They stared at what she was doing. Ross could feel himself getting undeniably hard. He could tell McQueen wasn't entirely unaffected; the man's eyes kept drifting back to Vanessa's graceful hands trailing across his helpless flesh.

"OK, well, maybe it is."

McQueen stared at him a moment longer. Then he snorted laughter through his nose. The perfect, tight lips went even tighter as he tried to hold onto what was obviously a gut-bursting belly laugh. Ross couldn't resist. With a careful purpose that mimicked Vanessa's intensity, he scooped up a fingerful of lather, reached out and placed the bubbles precisely on the end of Ty's nose. The man went very still for perhaps three seconds, then fell against the shower wall, convulsing with the kind of near-silent laughter pitched to where only dogs can here it. He made a fuzzy mental note to get his friend drunk and wet more often.

He was laughing, too, when Vanessa got bored with his chest and pulled him into a sudden, deep kiss. He started to push her away, enough being finally enough, but she circled his tongue once, deftly, with her own, then lightly flicked the roof of his mouth. All forebrain mental processes immediately skidded to a halt and switched control on the fly to the old lizard dwelling in his hindbrain, whose instant response was to try to suck the girl's soul free of her body. It had just been too damn long.

"Uh-huh," Ty mumbled drunkenly from the shower floor as he watched their embrace deepen. "I better put a stop to this before it gets even more out of hand." He had just pushed himself into an uncertain upright position when the water fight made its way back around the corner and barreled into him.

Everyone went down in a flail of limbs. Ty fell backwards across Ross and Vanessa, pushing them into each other and down. Shane and Nathan came down along his length, and Coop and Paul sprawled across them. He tried to shove them off, get back into a more dignified position, but Ross wasn't helping, seeming more than glad to take advantage of the additional closeness to help Vanessa get the rest of her clothes off, and his. Ty could feel them struggling beneath him, and it was putting a different slant on things. His hands kept encountering warm, wet, indeterminate flesh, taut flesh that didn't flinch away from him but pressed closer, and hands were dragging at his own clothing. Then Shane caught his mouth with a short, sharp kiss, laden with her breath, that had her teeth tugging lightly at his lower lip as Coop pulled her down his body and into his own lap. There was no more restraint after that. Some sensuous critical mass of need and touch and emotion had been reached, and now the entire writhing group was going for meltdown.

They were all in a heap. What was left of their clothing was tight and wet and sticky, hard to get off, but they worked at it and everyone helped. Soon, they were curled about each other in the steamy room, soap-slick and flesh on fire, hands and mouths exploring, tasting indiscriminately. So much was bound up in simple touch at first the specifics of any deeper sexual unions were forgotten. The roll of a bicep, the hard bone beneath a browline, was as alluring as an erect nipple, a thickened cock, the moist depths of a pubic mound. Hands, tongues, toes, whole limbs, a body's entire stretch of skin, were the instruments of exploration. But soon, those bodies pressed into others, seeking a greater release than even this exhilarating, heightened touch.

Vanessa had her head buried against Ty's neck as she licked and nipped at his throat and ear lobe, and he held her close. Her fun was interrupted occasionally as she made little gasps and sighs at Ross' movements within her. Her hips rocked back against his groin with each thrust, and every movement slid her breasts and nipples along the scars on Ty's chest. Her hard little nose pressed deep into his neck like a tiny, erect penis. One of her hands cradled his head and stroked his hair as she knelt over him, and the other joined Shane's and Coop's to knead and stretch his already-hard cock.

Shane had her mouth on first Cooper, then Paul, then Nathan, leaning into them, her head bobbing as she swallowed them slowly and methodically. Then she would turn and lightly lick the tip of Ty's penis, and he would jerk against Vanessa. Coop's hand that wasn't on Ty was spread wide on Shane's bottom, the long middle finger stroking down the center cleft of her ass to alternately disappear into the tight, pink hole or slip forward to play with her clit. Occasionally, he would insert it into her, curling around the pubic bone, and she would jump when he did that. Her legs began to spread farther apart as she sank down, melted by his touch.

Coop was sweetly trading kisses with Nathan and Paul as they hugged each other together, little bites and licks that the three shared amongst themselves like candy. Hands stroked their lean forms and Coop's broad-muscled body. When Paul reached around to fondle Shane's breasts, her body collapsing onto Ty trapped his hand between them, and with a sigh, he released Nathan's mouth and draped himself over Shane, his arms coming around her and pulling her to him. With his head on her shoulder, he buried his cock deep in her ass. Shane's head went up with a wide-eyed gasp, the beautiful full lips in a tight little "o," and Ty couldn't resist filling her mouth with his thumb, stroking her face as she sucked it with as much evident pleasure as she had lavished on the boys' stiff members moments before.

Coop, seeing this, pressed his face between her breasts, his hands coming over Paul's to caress their fullness with him. As the two rolled on to their sides, he slid along them and entered her from the front. He eased in, sheathing himself entirely within her warm and welcoming body, and immediately he began to shake violently. The three moved together, taking their cue from Shane's struggling rhythm. Nathan embraced them, kneading the muscles of his friend's backs, the round, full rumps, the sinews of their thighs.

Vanessa was close to orgasm, her eyes tight closed and her voice moaning low into Ty's ear like a dove's. Her dark, sweet face cried out for a kiss and he tasted her, tentative, then more and more fierce as he felt her spasm with release, shudder along his body and laugh into his mouth with the joy of it. He found himself laughing quietly with her, and she swallowed his laughter. Ross slowly withdrew from her, stroking his torso and arms down her back in a lengthy caress, and as he freed her, she slid beneath Ty to take him into her body. But he trailed down her length as well, his arm thrown about her, caressing her shoulders and back, caressing Ross's hard body as he rolled away. Then he let himself taste the gingery tartness -- more compelling even than her mouth -- of her pubis. His tongue on her, inside her, was enough to make her cry out again, and she ran her fingertips lightly through the short, white hair, forcing him tighter against her.

When he pulled himself away from her inner depths, took her shoulders and drove hard into her, her gasp of pleasure made him happier then he could ever remember. They looked like ice and night melded together for a tryst. He studied her face as if to absorb all the emotion within it, then lowered his head and bit each nipple lightly before trailing lips and tongue around the rim of her navel. He felt little muscles in her stomach twitch when he did so, and that tiny response, too, made him happy. The strokes he made within her were long and luxurious. As they climaxed, he bent to her mouth again and took her cries within him.

No one could stay soft long in this snake's nest of twisting flesh. As they writhed, Shane reached out and encountered Ross' thigh, flicked the end of his penis with her thumb and gently inspected the trembling slit at its head with her thumbnail. Almost immediately, he hardened against her palm. With a low groan of resignation, he leaned over her and she took his hard inches into her mouth; her hands welcomed him into the circle of men crowded around her.

There was a sudden, warm weight on Ty's back, soft and hesitant, and a warm breath in his ear. A slim length slipped partially inside him and arms hugged him tight, hands stroked his chest, almost pleading. He started to struggle, but he couldn't without hurting Vanessa. He held very still and she looked above him, raised a hand passed his shoulder to stroke the other's face. With a flurry of quick, convulsive strokes, the boy came. Ty felt liquid warmth spreading within him, and reached to pull his Wild Card around to his side. As he sat up and held the lanky body to him, he saw it was Nathan. The beads of moisture on his face might have been only water, or tears.

Vanessa sat up too, and cuddled into the both of them, stroking Nathan's face and licking the salt tears, stroking Ty's back as well. Nathan's eyes were grateful, and he pressed his neck into the cleft of Ty's shoulder, began a gentle tracery of the scars, both fine and raw on his chest. Vanessa was kissing his eyes and whispering to him, when suddenly Paul was there, arms about the three of them, caressing Nathan's bent shoulders. Ty relinquished the boy to them as the rest of the Wild Cards gathered 'round.

Gracefully, Vanessa slipped into Nathan's cross-legged lap, straddling him, sliding herself up and down his shaft as it hardened again, caressing his chest with her breasts as she had Ty's. He looked up at her in wonder, running his knuckles along her spine as Paul's quick hands reached beneath him to stroke his testicles, the tender membrane between them, one long finger after another disappearing slowly between Nathan's cheeks. Holding his eyes with her own, Vanessa reached down and guided his stiff penis inside her. Nathan sighed against her breasts as she rose above him and began rocking and pumping with a soothing rhythm. He bent his head back and kissed Paul's neck, tongued the soft fuzz of his cheek, then found his mouth and fastened onto it. Paul and Vanessa were wrapped as comfortingly around Nathan as a blanket, and slowly they drove him to another climax.

Shane was lightly kissing first Vanessa then Nathan, her hands gently tweaking one's nipples, then the other's. Cooper was draped over the two girls, tangling his fingers in their hair and nipping at their ears, their shoulders. Then Shane lowered her head to a full breast, let her lips and tongue work at the dark globe, her hand slipping between the two undulating bodies to finger Vanessa's clit. Vanessa shuddered with release as well, and tumbled into Coop's eager arms.

Nathan rolled lazily into Paul, his subsiding arousal rubbing gently against Paul's new stiffness. He put a hand between them and massaged both of their cocks together, lying along him as Paul arced into orgasm, flung out his arms and found Vanessa's quivering ass on one side and Ross's muscled rear on the other. His eager hands stroked them both, even as his body pulsed and collapsed with release, Nathan's hands gliding along his arms to join in the caresses.

It had been so long for them all. Yet immediate fulfillment seemed not the goal, each wanting the sensation and closeness to last. Coop was within Vanessa, far more playful now that he had experienced the ecstasy Shane's body had offered. He was teasing her with his cock and lips, and she was letting him, her own hands and mouth promising more with each touch. They laughed and tongued each other roughly, enjoying the simple feel and look of each other's passion. On the other side of them from the sated Nathan and Paul, Ross, Shane and Ty had made a hot nest of flesh, inseparable, male from female.

Both Ross and Ty had pulled Shane away from those around Nathan at the same time, a simple, unspoken agreement to share the touch of another body between them again. She responded willingly, sharing her mouth with each of them, their own mouths brushing each other's as they kissed her, tongues sliding along one another until no one was sure who kissed who. Their hands on her smooth skin, her fingers tracing the clefts of hard muscle, shared the same melded intimacy. As Shane rode Ross's pumping shaft eagerly, and Ty took her from behind, they became one flesh.

Ty imagined he could feel his friend's penis stroking along with his, separated only by thin membranes. It became the driving impetus of the coupling for him, as strong hands, hard and soft, strong lips and arms caressed him and he answered back. As Shane shuddered into another release and pulled away from them, still touching, still nibbling and licking, he and Ross fell to one another as they had her body. Again sharing hot breaths, again the silk of lips and firm fingers, trailed across all three bodies. Hardening cocks pressed against each other, rubbing deliciously, and in a twisted mass of touch and need, both men orgasmed in a deep, rolling wave that left them spent beneath the soft spray and the girl's arms. Respite was short lived as Nathan and Coop joined the mass, their hot flesh demanding attention once again.

Nathan dragged Shane to him and buried himself within her; she pushed him onto his back and whipped him with her tossing wet hair. Coop's eager body pressed to anyone's, and without coherent thought, Ross and Ty used him lovingly, let him take them within himself, let him use them equally, caught up in the beauty of bodies shared in undulating passion.

Paul took Vanessa to himself, pulled her away from the rest, and they explored each other thoroughly in their own private ecstasy. Their laughter and soft cries simply urged the others on. Nathan rose and pushed Shane over as they drove toward climax; Vanessa and Paul leapt over the edge together. And with little time to recover and savor, both boy's were drawn into the male vortex, while Vanessa and Shane, replete with desire, turned to each other languorously. As the men drained themselves in a flurry of cocks and muscle, sinew and touch, the two girls drew each other into their own frenzied, final release.

Worn and satiated, still craving their friend's presence, the warmth of bodies, they drew into a tight mass, huddled close, and rested. The showers had shut themselves off long since. The steam began to disperse, condensing on their skins. The room began to grow imperceptibly colder. Much later, slowly, they began to pull away, find their wet clothes and drift out in ones and twos. Beds were found without further incident. Sleep closed down and held them all. In the ship's dawn, it was all a wild, angelic dream. They would forget.

They would remember.

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