The Lab Gee - Gee Pride 2025

A/N - This is my first try at the

Geek Pride Story Event

. This is part

Fantasy

and purely

Lesbian

. In light of the theme I have submitted into the Fantasy category. I hope you, the reader, can see my fantasy intentions.

As always, all characters, names, and events in this storyline are purely fictional. Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental and unintentional.

A big thanks to Nicole for her editing and suggestions. Any remaining mistakes are my own. My eyes aren't quite what they used to be.

***

Early May - Dr. Cobalt Wayne

I padded from the shower to the bedroom, still wrapped in my towel, and there on my bed was my darling baby girl, Marie Curie, my cat, not the physicist. My sweet, cream and white fluff ball of a Maine Coon cat laid curled up like a little queen right in the middle of the bed. I sat beside her, running my fingers through her soft fur.

"I promise you, my baby girl, mama's coming home on time tonight. We're gonna relax and stream your favorite movie, okay?"

I couldn't help but giggle. "Oh yes, baby girl, I will make up for missing our May the Fourth date last week. I promise, no interruptions, no work calls, the full saga, start to finish."

I leaned closer, grinning like a dork. "Mama doesn't have to work tomorrow, baby girl, so we're parking it on the couch and geeking out with Lieutenant Uhura all night long this time."

I stood up and walked over to the dresser, grabbing a pair of panties and a matching bra. Slipping them on, I reached for my slacks next. The blouse came after being buttoned neatly, with the top button left undone, just the way I liked it. I slid into a pair of comfy flats. Today was going to be full of standing, squinting, and getting lost in the details under my favorite microscope.

After a quick breakfast, I kissed Marie Curie goodbye and headed out to the lab.

Pulling into the lab's parking lot, I made my way inside and badged through security.

"Good morning, Miss Wayne," Edmond greeted me with his usual warm voice.

"Hi Edmond!" I smiled and continued on to the employee locker room.

I stowed my things, grabbed my lab coat, and badged in again on my way to the inner lab, passing my director, Dr. Leslie Geyer's office. Once at my station, I powered on my computer and officially began my day.

I noticed Dr. Geyer approach while I was pulling my samples from cold storage. As always, she stopped a few paces back, giving me space until I acknowledged her. That kind of professional courtesy never went unnoticed, and I respected the hell out of it.

I turned and greeted her with a smile. "Good morning, Dr. Geyer, ma'am. How's your morning treating you?"

The director of our lab, a seasoned, sharp, and undeniably brilliant individual, stepped closer.

"Well, Co ... " she paused, catching the look I gave her over the rim of my glasses. Just enough stinkeye to get the message across.

"Dr. Wayne," she corrected with a wink. "My apologies. I'm doing well. We've got a few guests coming in on Monday."

I had a feeling I knew where this was going, but I listened anyway.

"They'll be second-year med students, plus some undergrads with a strong interest in Hematology, much like you were, once. I'd like to introduce everyone on a casual basis."

I took a breath and answered steadily. "Dr. Geyer, I understand, but I'd really prefer not to use my first name. My father still haunts me for that literally and figuratively. Naming me Cobalt was his idea, and he never let me forget it." I smirked and turned back to the samples I'd been preparing.

She chuckled gently and reassured me. "He's not haunting you. He was a brilliant researcher and a devoted father. I remember that. He just happened to be, well, like the rest of us total lab geeks."

"Of course, Dr. Geyer."

With a kind smile, she moved along, chatting with others as they filtered in, Ph.D. researchers, residents, and the usual crowd. I suppose tenure comes with its perks. Dr. Geyer had come to me first with the news, and I appreciated that.

***

It was after 4:30 p.m. when my laptop's instant messaging app sprang open; Dr. Geyer had asked to see me before I left for the evening.

I replied that I had a meeting at 4:45 pm with Dr. Gerald Mason, my medical fellow, to discuss the cytogenetics and molecular biology markers he was reviewing to detect mutations and chromosomal abnormalities. I wanted this pushed forward for presentation to the Advisory Committee for the next round of the drug sensitivity assessments her husband's team was working on.

As I hit reply, I watched as my message was read immediately. The response frightened me as it would cut into my time with Marie Curie and our movie night.

'That is fine I will wait for you '

Dammit! I nearly screamed. I wanted to relax and spend the evening with Marie and either Leia or Uhura.

I had just finished with Dr. Mason. He was a truly bright and promising young physician, already board-certified in Internal Medicine. Mentoring someone like him should have felt like a proud moment, but my heart ached when he spoke of California. The way he lit up at the mention of the West Coast... that's when I knew. Once he completed his fellowship in just a few months, he and his wife were packing up and heading to her home in sunny San Diego.

As we wrapped up our conversation about test results, I gave it one last try, desperation creeping into my voice despite my best efforts to stay composed.

"Dr. Mason?" I paused, peering over my glasses. He looked up from his notes, smiling kindly.

"You are a spectacular and talented, soon-to-be board-eligible hematologist. Is there anything, anything, I can say to convince you to stay here with us in Maryland? Just for a few more years?"

He stood, that same gentle smile never leaving his face. "Oh, Dr. Wayne ... it isn't me you have to convince. It's my wife. San Diego is calling her name. She wants to go home."

That was it. My heart sank a little lower, resigned to what I already knew. I stood slowly, every movement weighted with disappointment. I extended my hand, managing a smile.

"If you ever need a recommendation, please seek me out. I would be honored to support you, wherever you go."

He thanked me, then walked out of the conference room, leaving for the day with the easy steps of someone who had already moved on. And me? I trudged back to my lab station, shut everything down methodically, hoping for a brief meeting with Dr. Geyer before heading home.

I knocked softly on her door. She glanced up and waved me in. The lab was quiet; there was no need to close the door. I sat, my small purse resting in my lap, suddenly feeling heavy.

"Cobalt," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I need a huge favor."

I mirrored her smile, already wary. "Then please, Leslie ... don't call me Cobalt. You know I hate that name."

"Oh, dearest... your mother would be so proud of you. I hope you know that."

I flinched. There it was. She wasn't playing fair. The guilt train had left the station, and I was strapped to the front.

"You have dinner plans tonight?" she asked, casually.

"Yes," I said with a smirk. "With Marie Curie. We're cuddling on the couch tonight."

She chuckled, but then got to the point. "We have a new fellowship physician starting July 1st. I've selected you to be her mentor. Just wanted to thank you in advance. She'll be shadowing you for a while."

I raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, I'm honored to mentor a young mind, but there's a catch. You brought up my mother, which means something's coming."

She straightened her back. Here it came.

"Nia is a wonderful woman; she is just finishing her Internal Medicine residency. She'll be thrilled to work with you, but ..." Her voice caught with hesitation. "Cobalt, she has some financial struggles. I'd love to know if you'd consider letting her stay in your spare bedroom ..." My eyes opened wide!

She saw that and paused, but then continued. "Just until she finds her financial footing."

I stared at her, blinking in disbelief. "Leslie! How could you do this to me? You

know

how I like my life. My space."

I was spiraling more out of habit than reality. The truth? I'd never known struggle. My mother's untimely death and the life insurance that came with it left me comfortable and secure. That privilege never escaped me ... even if I didn't always say it aloud.

Leslie just waited. Calm. Silent. Letting the storm pass.

When I finally fell quiet, she stood and walked around her desk, her eyes soft and full of knowing.

"Cobalt," she said gently, taking my hands in hers. "I promised your father, at your mother's funeral, that he'd never need to worry about you. And still you chose this place. You chose to follow in his footsteps after his cancer and passing, instead of charting your own like your mother hoped."

Her words dug deep. I felt the sting.

"Dr. Nia Abara is special," she went on. "She's from inner city Chicago. Her mother was killed in a senseless drive-by shooting. Nia grew up bouncing between foster homes, surviving on grit and sheer brilliance. She made it to community college, then pushed through to a four-year degree, all on merit."

Tears welled in my eyes. Leslie had cracked me open, and she knew it.

"Okay, okay, enough with the guilt trip, Aunt Leslie," I whispered, burying my face in my hands.

I felt her breath as she leaned close. "My dearest Cobalt... I love you like the daughter I never had. You are a wonderful woman for doing this. Just until she's on her feet."

I nodded, defeated and touched all at once. "I will, Aunt Leslie. I'll welcome her. I'll care for her... like you did for me."

We both stood, and I pulled her into a hug.

"I'm going home to see Marie Curie. We have a date tonight," I said with a grin, brushing tears away.

She laughed and hooked her arm through mine. "I'll walk you to your car."

And with that, we stepped into the quiet hallway, two women holding decades of stories between us and making room for one more.

***

Hours later, prepared for a nice evening, I sat with Marie Curie stretched out across my lap like a queen surveying her domain, her thick, creamy tabby fur catching the soft flicker of the television screen. I nestled deeper into the couch, laying a lightweight fleece blanket over my naked legs. The first few notes of

Star Trek: The Motion Picture

played, a sweeping overture that always made my chest flutter with something nostalgic and tender.

When the camera panned across the Enterprise, my heart was already drifting far from the ship and into the depths of a particular officer's sultry, commanding presence.

Uhura. Gods, Uhura.

Even her name tastes like poetry on my tongue.

I watched the curve of her smile, the way her dark eyes gleamed with intelligence and quiet fire, and the commanding elegance of her voice. She wasn't just part of the bridge crew. She was the pulse of it, at least in my opinion.

Every time she moved, every time her fingers brushed the communicator or she swept her gaze across the room, I felt something tighten deep in my belly. She wore that crimson uniform like it was painted on, the cut framing her hips and breasts in a way that made my thoughts stray far from plotlines and warp speeds. My fingers twitched absently in Marie Curie's fur, but in my mind, I was imagining what it might be like to touch Nyota Uhura instead.

Oh! To feel the silk of her skin, to press my lips just beneath her ear, to whisper things that made her breath catch.

I let myself wander. I always do by the time we reach

The Wrath of Khan

. Marie Curie purred contentedly, curled like a heavy moon in my lap, but I was somewhere else entirely. In the fantasy, I was on the bridge with Uhura, leaning in too close, stealing glances I didn't hide. Her eyes found mine, that sly little smile playing at her mouth; she was in control. She knew the power she held over me.

She reached for me, her touch feather-light but with intent, trailing along the inside of my wrist before her fingers slipped up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I'd follow her anywhere. To the stars, through danger, even into madness.

I ached with want for her, this woman so utterly herself, so self-possessed, beautiful beyond reason, sensual in ways that made my throat dry. I shivered when I realized my fingers had crept under the lightweight throw and had been teasing my bald womanhood. My fingers gooey with my thick creamy nectar, all saved for her, one of the women I would love to give myself to.

As the credits rolled, I stood to use the bathroom and clean myself. I patted to the kitchen for another glass of wine and a treat for Marie Curie. I wrapped myself in the throw and settled back into my spot. Lazily, I left my fingers inside my panties, being careful not to excite myself too much.

By the time we reached

The Search for Spock

, my wine glass was empty and my thoughts were positively decadent. Uhura had fewer scenes, but every glimpse of her was a gift. Her voice, even when soft, commanded. Her skin, smooth and deep and radiant in the low lighting of Starfleet Command, seemed to glow. I imagined undressing her, reverently, unzipping that uniform and baring her body like it was a secret meant for me alone. The fantasy was hungry, shameless. I wanted to taste her.

My fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as I closed my eyes, seeing my fantasy officer melt beneath me. To hear my name in that voice, not barked across a comms channel, but moaned into my mouth in the privacy of shadow and breath. My obsession was gentle, yet there was a raw, almost primal, slow burning fire that simmered behind my quiet couch-sitting exterior, beneath the soft purrs of Marie Curie and the ancient throw blanket now pushed down, exposing my thighs and wetness.

Outside, the night went on unnoticed, and inside, I watched the stars sail by on screen, my body warm, my heart tethered to a woman who only existed in memory and flickering scenes, but who still somehow managed to leave me breathless.

The credits rolled quietly into darkness, and I let the silence settle like dust. Marie Curie had long since migrated to her favorite spot, the arm of the couch, her tail twitching in sleep, but I remained curled on the couch for a long moment.

I was still flushed from the fantasies that had slipped through my mind like silk. My thighs tingle, and my lips parted slightly in that heady, lingering way desire likes to cling. Eventually, I stirred. The clock blinked; it was past two in the morning. My body felt heavy and slow, like I'd been underwater.

I shuffled to the bedroom, the floor cool beneath my feet, the hallway dark save for the moonlight slicing in through the slats in the blinds. I needed to change. I pulled my shirt off, stripped from my sodden panties. I opened the top dresser drawer and pulled fresh panties, slipping into them. I crawled between the sheets in nothing but a pair of thin black underwear, the cotton already warm against my skin from my heat.

As I sank into the mattress, I pulled the other pillow over and held it close, allowing the thoughts of Uhura to cradle me to sleep. I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly, and let the fantasy pull me under.

My dreams were more realistic than I could imagine. Uhura was no longer bound to a starship. She was mine. She stood in candlelight, her uniform shed piece by piece, revealing skin that shimmered like the darkest onyx kissed by the moonlight. She pressed me down, her thighs strong against mine, her mouth trailing over my body with a hunger I'd never known outside of dreams. I moaned for her, begged for her.

I was willing. Her fingers knew my body like a song she'd sung a thousand times. I clutched her hips, I tasted her name, and she unraveled me with slow, purposeful grace until all that existed was her heat, her voice, her rhythm, the stars crashing down behind my eyes.

My body shook as my orgasm ripped through my core, and my thick cream spat from my love, oh the feeling, the euphoria of need, and the culmination of my desire.

I moved from the bed to my bathroom, warming a washcloth to pat myself clean. I grabbed a towel to cover the bedsheets. I made my way back to the solace of my lonely bed, knowing the fear of ever loving a woman in real life wouldn't happen as grotesque as a lover I would be.

That secret kept to me and only to me as Mother Nature played the cruelest trick on my body ... the flowing and overwhelming orgasms and the always involuntary expulsion of secretions from my Skene's glands.

How would any woman come to love me? This is why I will never seek a lover. I am a disgusting woman without the capabilities to stop this ... this curse of squirting. I wept in sadness, allowing sleep to overtake me in the waning hours of the morning, knowing I had a lazy day ahead of me.

***

The sun was high and warm against my bare shoulder when I woke. The sheets were tangled, my limbs stretched languidly across the bed like I'd been dancing in sleep. My body hummed, the memory of her touch ghosting over me like an aftershock. I didn't open my eyes at first. I just smiled, wide and slow, blissfully worn out.

Then my thoughts came back to my orgasm, how embarrassing it was that it always happened, every time. Tears crept from my eyes, knowing no woman would ever want me. I was destined to be alone from the hellish and embarrassing problem.

I pulled myself from bed and pulled my bed clothes as well, carrying them to the laundry, washing them as well as washing away, or at least trying to wash away the feeling of disgust from my orgasm.

I made my way to the kitchen, started some coffee, and pulled out Marie Curie's breakfast from the refrigerator, you know, the fresh food she deserves.

Back in my bedroom, I pulled on a pair of panties, shorts, and a T-shirt and patted my way into the bathroom for a shower to start my absolutely lazy day.

The rest of the weekend was pure embarrassment, guilt-ridden, and heavy. I couldn't shake it, no matter how hard I tried.

***

When Monday morning rolled around, I woke up, showered, and trudged my way back into the bedroom, still wrapped in my towel, hair damp and clinging to my shoulders. And there she was again, the queen of the castle, again she claimed the coziest spot for herself. I sat down carefully beside her, not wanting to disturb her royal slumber, and gently ran my fingers through her soft fur. She purred, and despite everything, I couldn't help but smile.

After a few quiet moments, I stood and tiptoed to the dresser. My cheeks flushed a bit as I reached for a pair of panties and the matching bra, but why I felt bashful while completely alone, I couldn't say. I slipped them on quickly, then pulled on my slacks, followed by a blouse I buttoned neatly, leaving the top one undone just the way I liked it. I slid into my comfy flats, knowing I'd be on my feet most of the day, getting completely lost in all the tiny details my work demanded. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and made my way out to start my day.

It wasn't until I was driving to the lab that I remembered what Dr. Geyer had to tell us about the visiting students today. Damnit. I wasn't in a business suit like she preferred for those days.

I greeted Edmond with the best Monday-morning smile I could manage and went through the outer lab to the locker room. I tucked my purse and things away and closed the locker. Walking past Dr. Geyer's office and badging into the inner lab, I headed straight to my station and got to work.