seaQuest DSV
Fic Title: Costumes
Fic author: katirene (XMP) and Paula (APB)
Fic rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is based on the second season of the Amblin Television and Universal Television series "seaQuest DSV", created by Rockne S. O'Bannon. As is understood, I do not own any part of these characters, and have made no profit in the writing and sharing of this fic. But I would love to hear from readers. that is the only payment I desire or require. Thank you.Further disclaimer: This is a Ari Adler and Trey Barlow seaQuest fic. Trey Barlow and Ari Adler are original fictional characters created by Paula and katirene. This is part of an alternate universe seaQuest series.
Summary: Mardi Gras on the seaQuest, and the Highwayman comes riding.
Warning:
Costumes
Trey looked over at her superior officer, who along with Miguel was holding the inside segments of a new sensor that the UEO labs had delivered to the seaQuest to field test. The outside parts were being bolted in place but gilboy, AKA Tony Piccolo. Just at that moment, the light panel over the segments inside lit up green, all systems were functioning, which ment that they could get out of this cramped forward area and get showered for that costume party.
"Tony, that's it man, get in here." The overly anxious Ensign bellowed into her com unit.
"Hey Jim, when did she get promoted? You'd think that she had someplace to be." The Cuban NCO commented, noting the surprised look on Brody's face.
Playing along with Miguel, knowing that they were over 30 minutes late on the schedule, and that they all still needed to shower and get in to costume and that was going to even make them later.
"I'm not sure. Ensign, its usually the officer in charge who releases the crew. And you know I was thinking of redoing this last part of wiring. What do you think Ortiz?"
"Well sir, if you think its necessary. Wouldn't want to risk the boat's safety on questionable wiring." And the two men watched the woman they were teasing just slump in defeat.
Letting her stew for a few seconds, the men finally lost it and started to laugh. Which earned them "DAMN IT!! Its not funny.."
Grabbing the tools, the three headed out in to the hall, only to see Tony go swimming by, mugging. "Wonder what they saddled him with for a costume? The creature from the Black Lagoon?" Trey wondered aloud.
"Well, I still haven't heard what yours is Ensign. One of the great mysteries of this whole thing." Jim asked, trying to pry his right arm's mouth open.
"And if I haven't told Tim, I'm damn well not telling you." But a few strides later, Trey grabbed Miguel's arm and dragged him back from Jimmy.
In a voice just above a whisper, in a desperate, almost frantic tone, "You gotta help me! Ari was supposed to help me in to the outfit, but she's probably long gone and I can't get the damn thing cinched up by myself."
Knowing that she was absolutely devoted to Tim, as much as he was to Ari, Miguel couldn't help but wonder exactly how much of her would be exposed. Trey's lack of modesty had become something of legend ever since she had, back in January, came to the galley in just her swim suit, to the outrage of Ford, who called her on the carpet for it and issued a boat rule of minimum clothing standards outside of quarters and the designated moon pool and gym areas. Seeing the wheel turn in her friends mind, she answered his unasked question.
"I'll have a white peasant blouse underneath, don't panic, I just need the bodice tied up." In her best pleading voice, she ended with a pleading, "PLEASE!"
But Jim had noticed that the 2 had fallen back from him and had drifted back and had heard that last segment of the one sided conversation. "Barlow, I'm hurt. You didn't ask me to help? It'd be my pleasure to help tie you in to a bodice. "
Giving him an incredulous look, Trey answered him, "I just bet it would, but I'll go in full dress uniform before you'd get the chance, Lt.."
Hiding his smirk, Miguel waited for Jim to give her a comeback, but Jim just put his hands up in surrender and headed down the corridor to his quarters while Miguel and Trey headed to the maglev.
"You gonna help me or not?" Trey said as she slammed in to her seat next to the remaining part of the group.
Knowing that she was at this easily teased point, that a great many of her mental walls were down, Miguel couldn't resist one last dig. "WELLL……I don't know. I mean, if Ari found out I was helping dress you, then there's Tim to think about. "
"Fine. Uniform it is."
Shaking his head, Miguel put his arm around his friend/poker partner's shoulder, "Give me time to shower and dress myself, then I'll be down."
Grinning up at Migs, Trey answered him, "Bastard, and you know I mean that in the most loving way."
So they headed off the car, to their separate quarters, showers and proceeded to get dressed. Miguel's was a bit more difficult than he anticipated, with the sash and the saber, but he pulled himself together and headed to Trey's. Tapping on the door, he heard her "Its about damn time," as a come in offer.
"He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doeskin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky."
Alfred Noyes, 2nd verse
Tim contemplated the Mardi Gras outfit and wondered how he had gotten himself talked into this. Ok, so Miguel was going as a Confederate General, Lonnie as Cleopatra. He snorted to himself at the thought, Cleopatra! Nobody knew what Ford's costume was. He'd said it was going to be a naval hero, so they were making book on it. The suggestions ranged from Horatio Hornblower to Adm. Nelson to John Paul Jones.
But this procrastination wasn't getting him dressed for the costume party. He looked again at the outfit on his bunk. He'd almost have to stop breathing to fit into the pants, faux doe-skin, but so very soft. And the coat was way too flamboyant a colour for him. In fact, the entire outfit was so very NOT him. Maybe he could borrow a long brown bathrobe and go as a monk? Friar Tuck, maybe. Brody was going to be Robin Hood, in tights and a very short tunic.
Then he thought of the jokes Miguel would make, transposing the first letters of the two words of the name. With a sigh, he picked up the breeches and began to squeeze into them.
Whose idea had it been, anyway? he wondered, holding his breath so that he could pull up the breeches over the tail of the long, full shirt. A masqued ball for Mardi Gras? Traditional, yes, but they hadn't had anything of the sort before. Not that Tim particularly objected, he quickly told himself, it could be fun. He paused and a small smile spread across his sensitive, mobile lips.
It would be a lot more fun if Trey Barlow was going as Cleopatra, instead of Lonnie. But that lovely lady consistantly refused to tell anyone what she was wearing. He hands, emerging from the full, lace trimmed sleeves of the so-called poet's shirt paused as he thought of the woman he loved wearing a thin, diaphanous shift, jewelled pectoral and the delicate cobra crown. Then he sighed and pressed his lips together. Not to be. Lonnie would be impossible to live with if anyone else showed up as her character.
Not that that would happen. After all, Tim had helped to open the mysterious box that had contained the costumes, delivered by mistake from the London costumiers. And he knew that there was only one copy of each outfit. He'd been there when Captain Bridger had called the shop, and they had insisted that the crew use the outfits since there was no way to return the costumes in time for them to be used. Apparently, the company that had been planning the party decided to use someone else.
Still, it was a surprise when the Captain and Commander Ford announced that the seaQuest would be holding a Mardi Gras celebration. To apportion the costumes fairly, every crewmember who wished to participate submitted a card with their name on one side and gender and size on the other. Supposedly, the cards were input into the computer and the division of outfits was accomplished by random chance, but he had his doubts. Some of the choices were just too wickedly appropriate. And some were embarassing. Like this.
Tim looked in the mirror, taking the ends of the lace cravatte and trying to figure out how to tie it properly. The costume should have come with instructions, he grumbled under his breath. A knock at his door interrupted his complaints.
"Come in," he called out, then took another look at himself, realizing for the first time just how tight the pants were. Practically speaking, they were just short of pornographicly tight. "No, DON'T come in," he corrected. But it was too late. A charming little southern miss is a flowery ball gown was carefully managing the unfamiliar full skirts as she entered.
"Wow!" Ari Adler breathed out, her eyes growing wide and admiring. "Why, Lt. O'Neill, you are plumb handsome." Ridiculously, he felt his face heating up with pleasure at the compliment. The two officers were best friends, now, and they each had a romantic interest in someone else, but there had been a time when they had thought that there might be something more between them.
"Umm, well, thanks, Ari. Ahhh, I don't look, you know, too stupid." He turned back to the mirror, and cringed at the sight. He'd have to be careful what he thought tonight, for sure.
"No. Oh, no. Definitely not at all," she answered, coming up behind him. He could see that her eyes were sincere and truthful and, for the first time since he'd picked up the costume, he relaxed. "Tim, you're beautiful." Ari looked him over carefully, her head cocked to one side, and the seaQuest communications officer felt himself begin to tense again. She had the air of someone wanting to say something, but not sure how to put it.
"Would it offend you, if I were to, well, to re-tie your cravatte?" she finally asked. He let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding.
"Would you?" he answered gratefully and she reached up and began to expertly fold the long, lacy ties over and around. Turning back to the mirror, he noted his appreciation. "Very good," he complimented the little ensign. "Where did you learn how to do that?"
When she didn't answer immediately, Tim turned his head to find that she'd picked up the wine-red, velvet coat and was holding it out to him, her eyes quiet with the shadow of sorrow.
"Oh, I think I ... Never mind." Feeling clumsy, the tall junior lieutenant allowed her to help him into the long, split tail coat, without which he'd been assured that the character would not be compleat. "What are you doing here?" he asked, suddenly realizing that she couldn't be entirely finished with her own preparations and wondering why. "Did you want something?"
Biting her lip, Ari nodded and sat down on his bunk.
"Tim. You and Trey are ... are ... I mean, how do you know? How did you know? That Trey was right for you. That you wanted to, well, that you want to be with her? Is it because she's so beautiful?"
Carefully, he sat beside his friend, worried that the tight breeches might split up the back. But they didn't.
"You and Miguel fighting again?" he asked.
She turned pink and shook her head silently.
"Then what's the matter? You like being with him, don't you?" Dumbly, she nodded, her blush deepening. "Did somebody say something? Was it Tony?" But she shook her head for each of his guesses. "Well, then? What is it?"
"Tim, I ... I'm scared." She was serious. Her eyes glistened brightly and her lips quivered. "When I'm with him, I can't imagine him not being there. And when we're apart, I'm always thinking of things I want to share with him. But, it's ... "
She stopped, her face contorted as she tried to vocalize her reservations and she licked her lips nervously.
"I was taught not to depend on anyone, because ... in the end, everyone leaves. That I have to be strong and depend on myself. I don't think I can..." Ari stood up and paced a few steps away, toward the mirror. Without turning around, her gaze fixed unhappily on her own reflection, she asked, "I don't understand any of this. I mean, look at me. What do I have that Miguel would want?"
"What?" He couldn't understand her problem.
He shook his head with incomprehension at her misapprehension. In the mirror, he could see a tear slipping down her cheek and he rose off the bed.
"Ari, you do realize that at least half the male crew would be estatic if you gave them the slightest encouragement. And some of the women, as well. You ..., you're gorgeous, and you make everything around you somehow brighter. The odd thing is not that Miguel loves you, but that you even see him." She closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly.
"No. Thanks, Tim, for being so nice, but you shouldn't lie. I know what I look like. And this dress just makes it more obvious. I really am a sparrow in borrowed feathers and when I'm with Miguel, standing beside him ... Everyone is going to laugh. I know it. And as soon as he realizes that, he's going to walk. I know he is. And I love him. Is it worth it?"
Remembering all the hard work that Miguel had put in, trying to win the elusive young woman, Tim walked up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and squeezing slightly. "Yes." There was no question in his voice. "Yes, Ari, it is worth it." She twisted in his hands to look up at him over her shoulder.
"But.." she started to say, but he stopped her words with a finger placed over her lips.
"But you're scared, right?" At her nod, he gave her an encouraging smile. "Ask yourself this, then. Which scares you more? The thought of life with Miguel, or the thought of a life without him? Which do you want more?" Ari's expression grew thoughtful and her eyes distant.
"Now, ask yourself if you really care anything at all about what other people think? Isn't Miguel more important to you than that?" Ari nodded her head. "Then don't pay any attention to anyone else. Enjoy yourself and Miguel will enjoy being with you."
"Is that how it is with you and Trey?" she asked hesitantly. Tim picked up his cocked hat and nodded.
"When I'm with Trey," he said seriously, "I feel as though I am compleat in a way I've never been before. I feel alive and real. I'd hate to lose that." Ari stood for a long moment, considering him closely before bestowing a brilliant smile on him and standing on tip-toe to kiss his cheek.
"Thanks old grumbler." She turned and flitted toward the door. "I'd better go finish getting ready." A sudden thought hit him as she reached it.
"Hey, Ari?" She stopped, her hand on the knob. "Who decided the characters?" Her sly, evil grin told him all he needed to know as she turned and slipped out. Whistling, he grinned at his reflection as he set the hat on his head. Now he knew what Trey's costume was to be.
"A highwayman comes riding -- Riding --- riding
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair."
Alfred Noyes, last verse
So Miguel walked in to her quarters, which were the mirror of Ari's, to find Trey in a full skirt, white blouse with a loose, black leather bodice over it. And no bra. "put your eyes back in your head, and help tie this thing up!"
Shaking his head and giving her a grin, Miguel asked, "OK, what am I doing here?"
"Just start out at the top and tighten it as much as you can, with out breaking the cords." With this, she leaned forward, pushing her breasts up and clenching the bodice to herself, which till he got it tightened up would hold her..assets in place. So Miguel started the process, trying to follow his friends advice, but not being familiar with this part of the process he thought he was pulling tight enough. But Trey dissuaded him of this, "I thought you had muscles Miguel, or you understood english! TIGHTER or I have problems."
"Any tighter and you can't breathe."
"I'll be fine, I've worn these before, and unlike your chickie with a shirt under them, not to expose things. So just pull would you? Or we'll never get out of here"
SO he pulled and in no time, he was presented with what a bodice could do to for a woman with an ample bust and who was getting her curves back after the effects of the experimental cryogenic chamber for those many years. Nodding his head, Miguel seemed lost for words.
Which earned him a grin from Treysa. "If you're awed, Timothy should be overwhelmed. So thank you old friend, and you can go now. I still need to fuss with a couple things. And I really don't want to walk in with you.." reaching over to her desk, she gave him a disk, "so maybe see if you could give who ever is in charge of tunes could put this on in like 5 or so minutes."
Cocking his head, wondering if he was being, cause Trey did that at times, the old Trey habits surfacing. "So what.. we're making an entrance? Tim not paying enough attention to you?"
"No, nothing of the kind. I want him to be Prince Charming, to be the most important male, there, no offense to your fine self. So yes, a bit of an entrance. But for him, not for me." Stopping, and pointing him to the door, "Just get there and give that"
"I'll give it to Lucas, don't worry. But what is Tim dressed as?"
"The highwayman..supposed to be from some fancy poem. But I have another reference for that."
Stopping on the top step of the entrance to her quarters, Miguel gave her a parting comment, "You always do." And with that he placed his hat back on head at appropriately cocky angle and headed to the maglev and the party.
Trey picked up the black wig that came with the costume, but after trying several different things with it, she decided to just go with her own hair, as uninteresting as it was. Taking some of her own hair and some of the red ribbons from the wig she tied her hair back with them. Stamping in to the boots, and draping the wrap that were the last pieces of the outfit, it was a suddenly nervous woman who looked in the mirror.
"Please, don't let me look like a fool."
Emerging from the maglev stop that was just down the passageway from the Off Duty lounge, which had been cleared of the usual chairs and whatnot for the night, by Dags, who Lonnie and Lucas had used some green face paint on to turn into him into the Jolly Green Giant.
Inside the Lounge, Miguel was standing talking to Ari, who, in true southern belle style, had her hand placed gently upon her beau's arm, and an increasingly antsy Tim O'Neill.
"Maybe I should go check on her." Looking over at Miguel, "I mean, you said she said she was right behind you, but she's still not here." But just then, just somehow Tim knew that she was there, and he (and the rest of the men in the room) got to see what Treysa Barlow, perpetual sexpot tomboy, looked like dressed up as a 17th century inn maid, full skirts, the bodice over the white peasant blouse, apron and a wrap that matched the skirts. The Bodice had pushed her breast up to a prominent position that made Tim worry about the tightness of the doeskin breeches that he had on.
And Lucas, who while maybe lacking in the real experience department, but having enough of the romantic in his soul that he hurried up and put the disk that Miguel had slipped him.
As her version of the 2 characters played on the system, Trey walked over to the 3 assembled friends, everyone else having sense enough to clear the way between the Lt. and his lady. Trying to remember all the things that Ari had spent the last 2 nights drilling in to her head, Trey walked over to Tim and curtsied. "Sir. May I have this dance?"
And with out saying a word, he took her outstretched and lead her over to the area designated as dance floor, knowing that, with the excepting of Miguel, he was the most envied male there. And that was a damn fine feeling. In love and envied for it. Wow.
Alas he was the highwayman
The one that comes and goes
And only the highway-woman
Keeps up with the likes of those
And she in all her magic
With hands as quick as light
Took him to be a challenge
And went into the nightAnd he in all his glory
Was far ahead of her
But she was never sorry
For wishes that would burn
Enter competition
She chases beneath the moon
Her horse is like a dragonfly
She is just a foolStevie Nicks
The Highwayman, from Bella Donna
THE END
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