Matchmaker

Title: Matchmaker
Author: Ginny Powell
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Archer/OFC
Feedback: Of course! wmginnypowell@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Man, I wish they were mine. But then, with all my
fandoms, it would get pretty crowded at my house. Hey, pool party!
Think I’ll go work up a guest list…
Summary: Archer has his eye on a certain Ensign, but needs a little
help from his best friend.

Part 1: Coincidence

“What you need, Jon,” said Trip between swigs of beer, “is to get
laid.”

Captain Jonathan Archer chuckled as he poured himself a finger of
whiskey and went to sit on his bed. His Chief Engineer was leaning
perilously far back in the room’s only chair. “That’s your answer for
everything, Trip.”

“Yeah, and it’s a damn good answer. Just ‘cause you got an extra pip
on your uniform don’t mean you ain’t still a man. We all need a
little…companionship now and then.”

“True, but in my situation…”

“I know, I know, fraternization among the crew, favoritism, all that.”
There was no pingping the note of impatience in Trip’s voice.

“Not to mention opening myself up for harassment charges.”

“Ah, that one’s easy. You just gotta have an understandin’ beforehand.
You know, like a prenup – a prefuck.”

“How much of that stuff have you had?” Archer gave his old friend a
mock-worried look.

“Not nearly enough. I’m serious. Listen, what if she was in my
department. I could set you two up, make sure she knew what she was
gettin’ into. Then I could keep you in line, let ya know if you’re
actin’ like a idiot.”

“Have you got a license for matchmaking in this sector?”

“C’mon, Jon, it could work. I could make up a list o’ names, and-”

“Mallory McCain is in your department, right?”

“Oh, ho! I knew it! Phasers armed and target locked! Heck, yeah,
she’s in my department. A fine officer…and built, too.”

“You aren’t…interested…”

“You know I prefer blondes.”

“Only slightly.”

Trip had to smile at that, then held up his hand in an approximation of
the Boy Scout oath. “I solemnly swear that there is not, nor has there
ever been, anythin’ of a romantic nature between Ensign McCain and
myself. Good enough?”

“Yes, yes, good enough,” Jon replied, laughingly wavinf hif his antics.

“Then I’ll set you up-”

Jon held up a hand. “No, you won’t. If – notice I said ‘if’ – I
decide to pursue this, I will do it on my own. I don’t need your help,
Trip.”

****

“I need your help, Trip.”

“What can I do ya for, Cap’n?” Tucker asked, turning from the warp core
console he’d been examining.

Archer hesitated. In the two days since their conversation about
‘female companionship’, he’d thought long and hard about what he wanted
and how to go about it. To his chagrin, he found that, while during
the proceeding months he’d managed to keep his desires firmly in check,
now that the opportunity had presented itself, he was suddenly unable
to deny his needs. To be blunt, he was horny as hell. And equally as
distressing, he’d been able to come up with no plan to pursue the
Ensign in question that didn’t involve Trip’s help. So here he was,
choosing his words carefully in crowded Main Engineering, desperately
hoping his friend would catch on.

“I’ve been having some trouble with a power relay in my quarters. I
was hoping you could spare somebody to come have a look.”

The flash of a smug smile told the Captain that his first officer knew
exactly what he was really asking for. And he had every intention of
helping. But Trip couldn’t resist rubbing it in a little. “I don’
know, Cap’n, we’re pretty busy. Let me see.” He let his gaze travel
around the room, where several of the crew were working at various
stations. He deliberately passed by Ensign McCain on the first sweep,
watching Jon sweat out of the corner of his eye, but then mercifully
returned to her. “McCain!” he called, and she turned immediately.

“Yes, sir?” she asked as she hurried over. When she noticed the
Captain, she froze for a moment and came to attention, her eyes
flicking nervously from one to the other before settling on her
immediate supervisor. For his part, Archer was hard pressed not to
look her up and down too obviously. From the short glance he allowed
himself, he could see that she looked just as good in her uniform as he
remembered. Her straight, glossack ack hair swung just above her
shoulders and was tucked behind an ear on one side. The The Cap’n seems to be having some trouble in his quarters with one o’
the power relays. Would ya mind headin’ down there to have a look?”

“Of course not, sir. I’ll just get my tools.” And she stepped back to
her console to pack up a small case open on it.

“Thanks, Trip.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Cap’n. I hope she can help ya with
your…problem.” Before he turned back to his work, he gave his friend a
leering wink.

“Ready, sir,” said Ensign McCain at Jon’s elbow.

“Great! Right this way.” He gestured for her to precede him through
the door.

“It’s an honor to serve you personally, sir,” Mallory said a bit
nervously as they headed for the turbolift. “I’m sure I’ll have you
fixed up in no time.”

“I hope so, Ensign. But please, at ease.” He’d noticed that her
posture was still rigid – not that he minded, the way her chest stuck
out just so. But it looked uncomfortable. “I would have thought after
Dintalis III you’d know that I don’t stand much on protocol.”

“Sorry, sir.” Her posture relaxed a little, and she risked a sideways
glance at her Captain. “I…I really enjoyed Dintalis III.”

“Me, too, Ensign. Me, too.” Archer smiled, and was glad to see it reflected on his companion’s face.

They reached the turbolift and, finding it occupied, rode up to E deck
in silence. As thede, de, Archer found himself remembering the away
mission to Dintalis III two weeks before. Mallory had been part of the
team for a very routine bio-survey. Archer had joined the team for a
day as a sort of makeshift vacation, and to let Porthos stretch his
legs. In the easy camaraderie born of late nights around a camp fire,
he’d gotten to know her just enough to know he’d like to know her
better. He’d resolved at the time to let it remain only a fantasy.

But as they exited the turbolift and headed down the hall, his fantasy
was coming ever closer to reality. Or so he hoped.

They reached his door. He input his code and gestured Mallory through
as it swooshed open. She took a few steps in and then stopped, her
eyes darting about, seeming to linger on the bed.

“Hey, buddy,” Archer said heartily as Porthos, his beagle, poked his
head up from his own bed on the floor. “You remember Ensign McCain.”
Porthos had taken right to Mry wry when they had been down on the
planet; it was one of the first things that had made Jon notice her.

“Hello, Porthos,” Mallory said in a friendly voice. Stepping over
beside him, she offered him a hand to sniff. Apparently this satisfied
him, for he resumed his nap.

“Um, the problem is right over here,” Archer said helpfully, pointing
to a corner where a blank terminal and darkened light panel stood in
contrast to their surround.
.

“Yes, of course,” Mallory replied, moving to set her tool kit on the
desk near the dark terminal. “Sdn’tdn’t take a moment,” she said over
her shoulder as she went to work.

“Take your time,” Jon said, perching on the edge of the desk. And he
meant it. Because no matter how clear his plan had seemed to him this
morning, and how well it had all worked so far, here he was at the
critical part, she would undoubtedly find the problem in moments – and
he had absolutely no idea what to say. It didn’t help that Mallory had
had to bend over slightly to open the access panel on the wall, which
put her ass quite near him and in a very tempting position, filling his
head with plenty of ideas, none of which helped his current
predicament.

For a full minute he sat, racking his stubbornly useless brain, trying
not to stare at her ass. Finally he sighed deeply. There was no help
for it. He would have to come clean. “Ensign, I-”

her here it is,” Mallory said, turning with a triumphant smile as the
light panel flickered to life. “Just a loose-”

“Coupler. I know.” At her confused expression he added, “I loosened
it myself.”

“You…wha-?”

“I loosened it myself, so I’d have an excuse for a repair, and then I
asked Trip to send you. I’m sorry, I know it was out of line, but I
wanted-”

“Hold on a sec. You asked Trip? YOU asked Trip?”

“Yes, I- What’s so funny?”

Mallory had started laughing, her hand over her mouth to hold it in,
and it was a moment before she could speak. “I…I asked…I asked Trip to
set us up!”

“What?! When?”

“Three days ago,” answered Mallory, wiping her eyes, the occasional
chuckle still bubbling out. “I asked him…begged him…to send me if you
ever…needed work done.”

“You asked- Well then he must have-” Trip must have come for a visit
that night with Mallory already in mind, Jon realized. His old friend
was up to his old tricks. Probably getting a good laugh out of this
right now, Archer thought. He sighed. “Look, Ensign, I’m sorry I
brought you here under false pretenses.”

“I’m not,” Mallory answered, suddenly sober. “I’m just glad you
brought me here.” Her chocolate brown eyes sought his blue ones, held
them. “The question is, now that we’re here, what shall we do?”

Archer broke their gaze before he got lost in it. “There are
certain…issues…that need to be addressed before…”

“Ah, yes, well, we do have a very reliable witness that this was
entirely mutual. And if you like, tomorrow we can pretend none of it
happened at all. But for now…” Mallory stood, moved between Jon’s
spread thighs as he sat on the desk. “It’s just Jon and Mallory, two
people spending an afternoon together with no strings attached. Okay?”

Archer didn’t answer right away. He had become distracted with her
nearness, was watching his hands rise to skim over her hips and waist,
feeling the soft curve of her flesh beneath the fabric. “Jon and
Mallory…”

“Mm-hmm,” Mallory encouraged, leaning in a little closer, her hands on
his shoulders. “And it would help the illusion if we removed the
uniforms, don’t you think?”

“What? Oh, definitely.”

Jon started to protest when she took a step back from him, but
understood when she lifted one foot into his lap. Dutifully, he
removed the boot and sock, letting his fingers travel as far up her
ankle as he could. This was repeated with the other foot, and then
Mallory’s hands moved provocatively to her jumpsuit’s zipper.

Slowly her hands came down, the fabric parting in their wake. When it
was completely open, Mallory twitched her shoulders, letting the navy
garment fall to her feet before kicking it aside. Next the black
turtle neck was lifted over her head. She took more time with the blue
tank top, gathering it at her abdomen to reveal creamy skin between it
and her shorts, before whipping it off in one smooth motion. Archer,
her avid audience, watched her breasts stretch across her rib cage and
bob back into place, his lips slightly parted, a very serious
expression on his face.

At last the shorts were skimmed down her long legs. Jon had little
time to admire her, though, for she stepped out of them and right up to
him, then knelt.

“Your turn,” she whispered, turning her attention to his own boots.
That done, she rose and urged him to his feet, gazing up at him as her
hands went to his zipper, his own hands finding the soft skin of her
back.

Once more he thought he could gladly lose himself in those deep eyes.
“Mallory,” he began, feeling moved to some declaration, but again not
able to find the words. Instead, he kissed her.

Her lips were soft and full and tasted slightly of mint, which made him
wonder how he tasted. He couldn’t hold that thought for long, though,
as the kiss took over his world.

It had been too long, way too long, but from the way Mallory was
responding, it seemed he still remembered how. As their tongues
twined, her hands seemed frozen, and when they finally broke apart, she
swayed in his arms, her eyes still closed. He was about to ask if she
was okay when they opened, and she graced him with a blinding smile
before getting back to the matter at hand.

The zipper glided down easily, then Mallory slipped her hands inside to
ease the jumpsuit off Jon’s shoulders. But he stopped her.

“It’s my turn, remember?”

Mallory raised a surprised eyebrow, but did not protest, only backed up
to sit on the bed and watch the show.

Archer let his coveralls slide down his arms and finally to the floor.
Then his hands went to the throat of his black turtleneck, teasingly
opening the first few buttons before lifting it over his head and
tossing it aside. Mallory’s eyes were drawn to the broad, well-formed
shoulders and eventually the sparsely haired, densely muscled chest as
the blue tank top also hit the floor. Then there were only his shorts.
Mallory’s face showed anticipation and then delight as Jon eased this
last item of clothing off his body.

“Oh, Jon…”

“Mallory.”

And then he was beside her, holding her, kissing her, as they reclined
on the bed.

She felt so good against him, her body lithe, her skin warm. Pressed
up against him full length, it was like being caressed everywhere all
at once. He moaned at the sensation, the sound muffled by her mouth,
then her throat, as he tried to kiss every inch of skin he could reach.
He couldn’t get enough of her.

Suddenly he found himself on his back, Mallory’s hands on his chest.
She leaned down to tease his lips with her tongue briefly before moving
on. As her tongue circled his left nipple, one of her hands snaked
down his abdomen, brushed through the hair at his groin, and, finally,
grasped the base of his throbbing erection.

Jon groaned loudly, arching into her hand, that one touch alone almost
enough to send him over the edge, he was so aroused. Mallory, kissing
her way across to the other nipple, slowly stroked her hand up his
shaft, then ran her thumb over the head, spreading the drops of precum
around. Jon writhed beneath her as she trailed kisses downwards,
looking down just in time to see her tongue come out to make a circuit
of his glans. Then her lips closed on his cock and he could no longer
keep his eyes open.

The acute sensations, combined with the euphoria of not being in
control for once, overwhelmed him. He felt his balls tightening, a
rising, glorious pressure building deep inside him. Before he could
even think about holding back, he was shouting “Oh, yes, yes!” and
coming down her throat as her hand milked every last drop from him.

Moments or minutes later, as the bewildering waves of pleasure faded to
a manageable level, Jon roused enough to focus on Mallory, who was
propped up on an elbow beside him.

“Sorry,” Jon whispered, but Mallory shushed him with a gentle kiss.

“The afternoon is still young,” she whispered back. Then she cuddled
closer, pulling his head to cradle against her breasts. Jon sighed
contentedly, threw an arm over her, and relaxed.

But it wasn’t long befhe fhe felt up to doing a bit more than cuddling.

At first he simply bestowed wet kisses on what was right in front of
his face. But soon Mallory was rolling onto her back, pulling him
along, and he had much better access. As he made his way around the
tender underside of her breasts, he let one hand trail down her
abdomen, brush through the hair at her groin, and slip between her
legs.

They both gasped as his fingers found her slick, swollen labia. Jon
could feel his cock begin to twitch its way back to attention as he
gently explored her, her quite vocal appreciation serving to both
inspire him and guide him to where and how she most liked to be
touched. He’d forgotten how much the sounds of a woman’s pleasure
added to his own and was pleased to find his erection at full strength
in a very short time.

And that was lucky, for he soon found Mallory dragging his face up to
hers with both hands, muttering “Please, Jon, please” before kissing
him deeply, savagely thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

He took the hint.

Without breaking the kiss, he slid his body into position over her, her
legs spreading wide under him before encircling his back. He held
himself up with one elbow while reaching down with the other hand to
guide himself into her.

She thrust up, sheathing him completely, and for a moment he could not
move, it felt so good. The kiss, unable to maintain its ferocity for
long, broke at the same moment, so that Jon found himself gazing deeply
into Mallory’s eyes. The trust and desire he found there spurred him
into action, and he began to thrust. Slowly at first, finding the
rhythm, the angle, that worked best for them. Although from his
perspective they were all good, he knew he had found the right
combination for Mallory when she stiffened suddenly, throwing her head
back. Then a few strokes later she was racked with wave after wave of
shuddering spasms. Jon held himself as still as possible, letting her
grind against him as she would, until at last she lay still, breathing
heavily.

Holding as much of his weight off her as he could, Jon let her rest,
kissing her cheek, her shoulder, silently thanking whatever benevolent
forces had brought them together as he awaited the return of her
coherence.

He hadn’t long to wait. Soon her eyes opened to gaze up at him
adoringly. With her cheeks glowing, her eyes twinkling, she looked
almost angelic. But her next words were anything but.

“More, Jon, fuck me,” she begged. And grabbing his ass, she pulled him
against her, forcing his still quite erect cock as deep as it would go.

He needed no more elaborate invitation. Obligingly, he began to thrust
into her again, seeking once more that perfect rhythm. But his own
pleasure was building, and they both seemed to find everything he tried
very satisfying, until finally he was simply thrusting forcefully,
deeply into her as she moaned her bliss beneath him. When he felt her
begin to tremble and spasm again, it was all he needed to send him over
the edge.

He collapsed onto her as they both rode out the waves, rolling to the
side as soon as he had the presence of mind to do so. Then he cuddled
up beside her, inordinately pleased with himself as Mallory purred like
a contented cat and snuggled against him.

They might have lain there for quite a while if Jon had not felt
something very cold abruptly touch his foot.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, sitting up to find Porthos gazing at him, his
front paws on the bed. Mallory looked up sleepily, but then gave her
own exclamation of surprise as the dog, having interpreted something in
their actions as an invitation, jumped up and scrabbled across her on
his way to his master. Inserting himself between them, he
enthusiastically licked Jon’s face.

“He’s worried about youalloallory observed with some amusement. “You
were making some very odd noises.”

“So were you,” Jon replied defensively, scratching Porthos behind the
ears in an attempt to calm him down.

“Well then, maybe he’s protecting you from me. Is that right? Am I a
big bad monster lady?” She had switched to baby-talk and leaned up to
nuzzle the canine. Porthos, seeing this new opportunity for petting,
promptly began to lick her face.

“He always did have good taste,” Jon commented, smiling warmly at the
sight of two of his favorite beings in the universe getting along so
well.

They spent a few minutes giving Porthos all the reassurance they could.
Then he suddenly jumped up and ran to his food dish, looking back at
them expectantly.

“Ah, dinner time,” Jon realized, glancing at a nearby clock. He stood
up. “Sometimes I think he has a clock in his stomach.”

Mallory laug the then glanced at the clock herself. “Uh-oh, it’s
getting late. I’d better go before someone starts asking why it’s
taking so long to fix a simple power relay.” She too rose, heading for
the bathroom.

Jon was reaching into a cabinet to retrieve the dog food. “I’ve got no
complaints about your work,” he called.

“Nice to know,” she called back. “Luckily my supervisor is pretty
understanding, too.” Reappearing from the bathroom, Mallory gathered
her clothing and began to dress.

“Yes, luckily. Still, you know, next time should probably be when
you’re not on shift.”

“Next time?” Mallory said, pausing in the middle of turning her shirt
right-side out to face him. “I was hoping you’d say that. Got any
more clever ideas for a cover story?”

“Nope. Unfortunately, my brain doesn’t seem to be operating at full
capacity just now.”

Mallory giggled as she resumed her dressing. “Mine either.”

“I guess we’ll have to use our mutual friend again.” Jon finished
feeding Porthos and came to sit next to Mallory on the bed as she
pulled on her boots.

“Okay. I assume no one else is to know?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not if you don’t mind me walking around looking like the cat who
swallowed the canary.”

“And here I thought it would just be me.”

Mallory finished with her boots and began to stand up, but Jon held her
back with a hand on her arm.

“Mallory, I know I’m asking a lot of you…”

She turned to him, running a hand ugh ugh his tousled hair, her eyes
searching his face. “It’s worth it.” She pulled him in for a soft
kiss, whispered “’Bye” when the kiss broke, and was out the door.

Jon watched the door swish shut behind her, then fell back onto the
bed, rolling over to watch Porthos, who was very involved in his
dinner.

“Whadda you think, buddy, should we have our new friend over to play
again?”

Not surprisingly, the dog did not answer.

“Yeah, I think we should, and soon. Very soon.” Then laying his head
on his arms, he allowed himself a short nap before he had to take on
the mantle of Captain again.

~~~End Part 1~~~