Come Twilight ch 4

Come Twilight

By Nikitee

Rating: NC-17, Angst
Disclaimer: Paramount owns them lock, stock, and barrel. I own a cat and a laptop; I’m not worth suing. Thanks to Stub for the good advice… GP really does help!

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Chapter 4

Captain Charles Tucker III didn’t buzz to announce his presence. He keyed in his access code and stepped into the dim room. Candlelight played across his face.

“All packed?”

“Yes,” T’Pol answered from the floor. She had been meditating.

He glanced around, eyes adjusting slowly. God, I’m tired. Her suitcase stood at his feet next to the door. He stepped over it, folded himself onto the floor across from her.

“I wanted to come by, to…” Tucker shook his head, then started again. “We’ve known each other for almost five years…” he faltered.

“Four years, 276 days, 14 hours and… 23 minutes.”

“Yeah, that long.” He sighed, relapsing into the mental eye roll that he’s mastered under her careful instruction during the first year of their mission, long before the Xindi. “I probably know more about you than any other human alive, and I still can’t figure why…” He stopped, listening to the hiss of the candle flame between them.

“Why what?”

“Why you’re… choosing him.” Instead of me.

“There is no choice.”

“An’ what’s gonna happen when you’re…” Tucker pulled his hand down his face, feeling the heat in his cheeks and the rough beard on his chin. Kov, dammit, why did you tell me about this Vulcan mating shit. Why did I ask?

“Consumed by the blood fever? Driven to mate or die?”

Mutely, he nodded, amazed she’d known where his inane babbling tonight was headed, what had been playing in the back of his mind for years now.

She closed her eyes, and took a slow breath. “I will ask you.”

“You’ll ask me.” He parroted, surprised that it sounded emphatic rather than questioning.

“There is no one else I would… ask…” Her voice broke.

He leaned over the flame and pressed his hands down onto hers, squeezing her knees with his fingertips. Her hands were ice cold, trembling. He hadn’t seen that, not at all.

“This is going to be the hardest thing you’ll ever do… and you’ll be alone. To him, you’ll always be the T’Pol he walked beside down that corridor.”

“Yes.”

“He doesn’t know who you are now. He won’t remember… anything.”

“No.”

Without a word, Tucker lifted his hand from hers, snuffing out the candle between them with his palm, and pushed it aside. It clattered against the bunk noisily, then fell silent. He leaned across the dark space between them, and laced his fingers behind her neck. Her hands touched his face, cupped his jaw, and he felt her lips on his. Her kiss was hesitant, light.

Please, Charles. Know me. She hadn’t spoken, but her voice echoed in his ears, as if her need had taken on a life of its own. He responded, roughly crushing her against his chest, bruising with his mouth as he claimed her lips, her neck, her shoulder.

His hands caressed her back, moving under the soft pajama top she wore to touch her smooth skin. Unconsciously, his strong hands found the pressure points along her spine that would both relax and invigorate her, release the natural endorphins that would kill the pain… it had been so long since he’d touched her, so long since she’d let him come close.

T’Pol sighed as the tension built up in her released, then pushed back from him, slipping the silk top off. He felt the weight of her warm, full breast in his hand, her hard nipple against his palm. It burned where the flame had been, as if he was being branded. His other arm snaked around her, pull her against him again. She was no longer cold, but her body still trembled under his hands.

Her fingertips were on his face again, exploring and caressing, her lips open and eager against his mouth. She touched his teeth with her tongue, tentative, and was rewarded with a deep rumble from him. His hand left her breast, to pull at the zipper of his jumpsuit. “Mmmmf.” He could imagine her eyebrow rising as she assessed the problem, and determined the most efficient way to remove and discard his clothing while minimizing the loss of physical contact. Logically, his hand was needed elsewhere.

He felt her hands on his shoulders, then his back… the blue fabric slid with them, down his torso and across his ass. She caressed her way down, felt his muscles tighten as he pressed toward her, trapping her hands momentarily in the jumpsuit. His erection strained against the taught fabric, pulsed hard and hot against her stomach. Now! his mind screamed, willing his damn uniform to vaporize.

As if reading his thoughts, T’Pol pressed her hands outward, easily ripping the jumpsuit apart at the midline seam, then smoothly removed the black turtleneck he wore, slipping it over his head. The uniform was tatters around his knees, its pantlegs still tucked in to the heavy Starfleet-issue boots he wore.

Tucker groped forward in the darkness, finding her waist clumsily, sliding T’Pol’s pajama bottoms down over her hips. She shifted, stepped out of them, kicked them away. His fingers dug into her flesh, pulling her toward him as he sunk back on his heels. Her legs parted, so that she was straddled over him, and her hands found his face again, stroking his cheek, brushing back his hair, massaging his temples. She bent her neck. Her lips met his, parted. She drank him in eagerly. His tongue explored her mouth, traced across her cheek and down her jaw. His hands kneaded her thighs. His tongue lapped at her breast, then circled at one nipple while his thumb circled the other. He could hear her heartbeat, low, between her gorgeous breasts… fast and strong. She sighed again, this time in anticipation instead of release, and the sound echoed in his mind. Don’t forget me. Don’t forget this. I love you, darlin’. I…

He thrust his hips, rubbing his throbbing head against her. She was slick, her hips pressing against him. His hands guided her, gentle now, so that she was in position for him. His thrust put him into an active volcano: he felt her tight all around him, her burning heat all round him. His mind fogged, as if he was walking into a steam room or the bayou mists, and he could feel only her, hear only her, smell only her, taste only her. She surrounded him, melted into him, seared him. He heard her gasp, far away and close at the same time. He moved, slowly and carefully, feeling the tingles he sent up her spine, down her legs. Her toes curled, and she flung her head back, gasping for breath. Her heart raced, and he pressed his cheek against the beat, lips touching her breast again, swaying with her. He moved faster, vaguely aware that she had taken up his rhythm, synchronized with him. He felt her nails digging into cheeks, felt her breath against his forehead. He tasted the tears on his own face, and knew they were hers.

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T’Pol stood above him, and gently touched his face, closing her eyes as her fingertips brushed his temple. Her lower lip trembled, then resumed its cool pout.

“I won’t forget.”

“I know.”

“This isn’t the end.”

“It is an ending.”

“Not for us. I’ll be right here, whenever you need me…” Tucker’s voice broke, and she heard the sheets crinkle and bunch as his fists clenched, as he struggled with his own control.

“I know.” She opened her eyes, and met his. The shining blue was softened by the rim of tears he would not let fall. She pulled herself erect, letting her hand drop to her side. It brushed the coarse fabric of her civilian trousers, and a wave of anger swept through her. She seized the anger and mentally smothered it in a stream of cold equations, forcing it away from her, desperate to be only numb while her body still reverberated with his touch. She retrieved the candlestick he’d pushed aside just hour before, stuffed it into the top of her suitcase, and turned to him again.

“I will always care for him. And I will care for you always.”

And she was gone.

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The crack of the subspace receiver startled her. Panic rose: she had no sense of how long she’d been standing at the window, staring at nothing… her eyes ached, and the sound of the blood pounding through her veins deafened her. She could hear Jonathan tossing in his sleep; she smelled his breath, and the perspiration on his skin.

T’Pol steadied herself, and glanced at the chronometer. 2:14 AM. And how many seconds, her mind screamed? Such imprecision was illogical… intolerable… unacceptable… how else could she know?

She reached for the microphone, her acknowledgement characteristically curt: “T’Pol.”

“Good morning, ma’am. This is Enterprise.” Hoshi paused, realigned the signal to compensate as the ships orbit took them further away for the settlement. “Sorry to keep you up so late, T’Pol. We have the telemetry dump you asked for from Columbia, and Captain Andrews on the Borman sends his regards. The shield modifications are complete, and have increased their threshold by 42%.”

T’Pol hit the uplink button on her computer console, opening herself to the terabytes of data waiting on Enterprise. She needed the data… needed… what?

“Acknowledged, Enterprise. Where is Captain Tucker?”

“He’s on his way, ma’am.” Sato’s voice faded, lost in the crackle.

“Hoshi… please tell him I need a hand.”

The received screamed static as the connection to Enterprise broke.

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TBC

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Is anyone reading this? sniffle Aw, c'mon! It was less than a year! It has nudity and throbbing... whimper!

Heck yes! Some people are reading while they should be working...!!! Great job, KEEP GOING!!! This was the saddest and most angsty episode, so it is only fair that this is such an angsty story. I can't wait to see where you go with it. Don't leave us hanging, puleease!

Can I echo Bucky's "Yeh!"? I love this story, partly because it's so well written, and partly because I never could believe that Trip sat in orbit for nine years, not visiting the planet. And I absolutely loved "determined the most efficient way to remove and discard his clothing while minimizing the loss of physical contact". Now that's the logical T'Pol I prefer.

"Is anyone reading this? sniffle Aw, c'mon! It was less than a year! It has nudity and throbbing... whimper!"

OMG! I had to go back and read the other chapters, because at first, I thought you were writing about something else. Oh, never mind.
Love it! Love the throbbing and did I miss a whimper? Gotta reread this. Awesome!!!

My heart breaks for T'Pol and Trip being parted so that Jonathan does not have to go through this alone. How they can be strong enough to stand it tears me up and I so want them to be able to be together again. You write so beautifully and I love how you reasoned T'Pol's logic in doing the unthinkable so that Trip wouldn't have to. Sigh. Think I'm gonna need another box of tissues, Ali D :~)

PLEASE keep writing this! I love it, and I usually can't STAND angst!

Beautifully written.

I can't believe this is the first "Twilight" story I've read. Really -- you can do almost anything with it with the knowledge that it will all be reset in the end. And this is so beautifully done. Please update soon.

Oh my... how beautiful how painful...

I need a hand..... Oh wow. Please do not make us wait so long for anohter part ;-)

well done, very well done post.

Nikitee... I am SO glad you're writing again!

I'm glad you updated. This was a wonderful chapter, still angst-ridden because they know they'll have to seperate. I hope Trip comes in time.

Angst... very nicely done! Love it! Next chapter please!

Angst is terrible, awful and...wonderful! My heart breaks for them. You've done a wonderful job with this story. I can't wait for more!

so where's the rest of it?? We're waiting!!

Is this ever going to get finished? It's the best Twilightverse fic I've ever read, and it's not finished! It's driving me crazy...[begs]

This is a terrific story. I'd love to see it updated!

excellent story, when are you going to update?!?