A/N: First and foremost, I do not own anything even remotely associated to Star Trek, nor did I come up with the core plot to this piece. This is a rewrite of the original pilot episode, "The Cage" written by Gene Roddenberry, only in Movieverse. Long story short, only recently have I fallen in love with the Star Trek universe. It's sad, but until the movies came out, I didn't even know the Enterprise had a name! Anyway, going back and watching the original series, I was struck by the potential "The Cage" had. For those of you who do not know, this episode was rejected by NBC in 1965; in their words, it was "too intellectual," "too slow," and contained "not enough action." With the new Star Trek movies putting an alternate universe into play, there is so much room to tinker and my hope is to bring back this old classic with a little bit more zest and using Jim Kirk's…well…colorful personality to enhance it, instead of Christopher Pike, who had been the original captain in this episode. There will be some cursing, because let's face it, Kirk's got a mouth, and several adult situations. However, I feel the need to point out that this story is not about romance, but about my own sinister need to put Kirk in shamelessly erotic situations for my own personal enjoyment. Like I said, there's a lot of room to tinker!


Chapter 1 - A Stranger in the Shower

Leaving her robe in a puddle on the floor, she slipped into the shower behind him.

Wait? Shower-?

Kirk whipped his head around, blinked a new scene into focus. The cell around him had vanished, replaced by the gleaming white tiles and gray color scheme of…his dormitory bathroom?

No way. He hadn't seen this particular chamber since his Academy days.

Steam hung heavy in the air, almost obscuring his view, but if this was an illusion - as he strongly suspected it was - it was a damn good one. Starfleet-issued residences were always extremely utilitarian, and most of the chamber had remained unchanged even after Kirk moved in. He liked it that way; the spartan décor and almost institutional-like cleanliness spoke of consistency and a controlled environment, none of which the young man from Iowa had possessed in his life before meeting Christopher Pike.

Kirk narrowed his eyes, studying his surroundings warily. Wow, he thought with grudging admiration, they were good. He couldn't find a single flaw; from the pristine glass cubicle and polished fixtures to the familiar toiletry bottles and single white washing cloth he had always kept on the ledge at his back. So if this was some kind of deception, some…illusion imbedded in his mind by the planet's inhabitants, yeah, it was uncannily spot-on.

The one thing that was different, however, was the exceptionally well-proportioned blonde that had just glided up behind him. If this had been real, and had he still been a cadet, a female joining him for his daily ablutions would not have concerned him. Over the years, Kirk had brought many females, human and humanoid alike, back to his quarters, at times even to the dismay of his roommates. Administration would have had fits if they ever found out.

Which they never had.

He still wasn't sure how he had pulled that off, but it didn't matter now because this wasn't really his dormitory bathroom, and Vina, if that really was her name, had never been one of those girls.

"Long day?" she asked, sliding her arms around his waist. A smooth chin came to rest in the dip of his shoulder, warm breath causing gooseflesh to sprout up all over his body. Despite the heat of the cascading water, Kirk shivered as soft little hands slipped across the bare skin of his torso and slowly traced a path up his ribs to his collarbone.

The shock of pleasure her touch left behind was so real it made him suck in a breath; a breath he released a moment later along with a few choice words.

He had seen her now in several illusions, each one of them different in the amount and fashion of contact with her. This time was casual, as if to suggest he wasn't bathing with a complete stranger, but with someone he knew intimately.

It was unnerving as hell.

If she had taken note of his profanity, Vina chose to ignore it, instead lifting her chin and planting a feathery-soft kiss in its place. That one simple act, so delicate and sensual, did its intended job of distracting him. It drove away all thoughts save one: he liked the feel of Vina pressed against him; soft skin, warm lips, moist hands and…

…and that definitely wasn't his heart that just leapt into his throat.

Damn, it had been a long time since he had been with a woman. A year of recovery on Earth and months without port in unchartered space had made sure of that. Gorgeous blondes displaying every inch of their pale, perfect flesh notwithstanding, there was no way he was going to let his neglected libido overrule his reason. He needed to figure out what was going on, and to do that he needed answers.

He swallowed once before demanding, "Why are you here?"

Vina had acquired a bottle of cleanser and was busy working it into a rich lather. She began rubbing his upper back and shoulders, nimble fingers soothing pent up tension and seeking out knots with quiet proficiency.

Kirk did his best to remain stoic and waited for her response. When none was forthcoming, he let his training take over. Ignoring the way her hands teased up his biceps, he sifted through the pieces of information he had managed to gather about his captors. Concentrating on that aided in the effort to lower his pulse to something resembling normal. Making it a point to focus on the white tiles couldn't hurt, either.

The massage didn't last long, and what began as a washing ended as slow, deliberate caressing.

"Stop trying to distract me," Kirk said, whirling on her. He was quick, so quick she didn't have time to move, and he caught both her wrists in his hands.

"I said, why are you here?" he repeated severely.

She didn't fight his hold.

Kirk froze in surprise. He had wanted answers from her. What he received instead were lips against his throat where hands could no longer reach, and a tongue that licked the trails of water falling shamelessly in thin rivulets down his naked chest.

He thought something else fairly profane when that mouth reached a nipple, and – okay, he must have released her because those little hands were suddenly doing some pretty interesting things in even more interesting places.

It was too much, too fast, and she had caught him off guard. The result was a spine tingling surge of pleasure that jumbled his thoughts, threatening to overwhelm his over sensitized brain trying to make sense of it all.

Kirk couldn't help himself; he groaned, frustration and desire tangling furiously together so that he forgot his demands and questions and just reacted on instinct.

And instinct felt good.

Eager, soap slick hands explored her body, sliding over the narrow waist, the flare of hips, up the length of her straining backside and fisting in golden hair that had molded to her neck and shoulders like a second skin.

She threw back her head at his tug, allowing his lips access to the flawless skin of her throat, her tiny Adams apple pearled with moisture and bobbing with a suppressed moan.

The thrill of her body, warm and lush and rubbing against his in the heat of the spray was maddening, and suddenly Kirk had her against the wall, pinned. There was no thought in his actions, just a primal, desperate need that had one of his hands digging possessively into her waist and the other maneuvering a pale leg as close and as high as flexibility would allow.

Vina whimpered into his mouth, shivering and heaving against him, clutching at him as wildly as he did her, and for a brief moment there was nothing else. No responsibilities or duties to hold him back, no decisions that affected the lives of hundreds of people, no officers looking over his shoulder, questioning his judgment, waiting for him to make a mistake; just flesh on flesh, pleasure undulating between two bodies, discarding thought and reason, feeding the hunger, the need.

Part of his brain wanted it; wanted her.

No! he thought desperately. The Enterprise. His ship. He had to get back to his ship. And his friends…his friends would be looking for him. Spock would be in command by now. He would be orchestrating a search party. He had to find them…had to…had to get to them.

Shit. He had to stop this now!

Through force of will Kirk pulled back, putting as much distance between them as he could manage. It was harder to let her go than he had intended, and the effort left him flushed and breathless.

"Answer my question," he panted, "Why are you here?

Vina leaned into him, closing Kirk's hard-won distance. Moisture had collected on her dark lashes. Ghosting full, wet lips over his, she dropped her voice to just above a whisper and smiled coyly at him, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Obvious?" The incredulity of the situation was so palpable that Kirk actually choked back a laugh. "No, it's not obvious, I-" And wasn't it hard enough to think without that talented tongue tracing shapes along his neck and up his jaw?

Her lips found his, seizing his mouth in kiss that was hard and hot and demanding. It was like she was starving for it, like her own life depended on his response to her.

It was perfect.

Too perfect, in fact

He knew he should stop this, knew his life, his freedom, depended on discovering what her motivations were and what his captors wanted from him; he just couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less.

"Are you even real?" he finally managed.

She drew in a deep, uneven breath before slowing to nibble his lower lip. Again, she didn't respond, but her hands, following the tracks of water pouring down his chest and over her body, were suddenly more important than her answer.

Before he made the conscious decision, Kirk's hands were back in her hair of their own accord and damn it! This was getting him nowhere. How was he supposed to concentrate when she was practically climbing up his body and down his throat!

It was enough to reignite the flame of anger that had been slowly kindling since he had woke as a prisoner in his cell. Kirk broke contact, pulling away so forcefully that his mysterious partner stumbled to keep her balance. "No!" he said harshly, "I want an answer!"

They stood for several moments, just breathing at each other, Kirk clenching his jaw with renewed resolve. It didn't help that her eyes shone with hurt and her pale skin, already lightly flushed from the heat of the water, was now slightly darker with heightened emotion...or rejection.

"Are you real?" he demanded.

Her breathing was ragged and unsteady, but Kirk saw it when the fight went out of her. "Do you wish me to be?" she asked, voice small.

He had achieved his goal, shaken her confidence and separated them enough so that a clear head was finally manageable. So why did he feel like he had just broken something important inside her?

Kirk balled his fists and closed his eyes. He had to maintain control. It was obvious she was avoiding his questions, answering with more questions to either lead him on or lead him astray. Whether it was her own choice or something being forced upon her was what he intended to find out.

"That's not an answer," he snapped. And abruptly hit the floor hard to enough to send spikes of pain shooting up from both knees when a stab of agony seared the inside of his brain.

When he finally looked up there was no more steam, no shower, only Vina, standing fully clothed before him, a look of despair etching her lovely features.

Kirk raised himself on unsteady legs. Enough games. He was going to figure out what the hell was going on.