Dessert, by Cincoflex

Dessert

by Cincoflex

You may want to read "Passionfruit" and "One and Two" in that order prior to reading this story.

Rating: NC-17, Romance

Disclaimer: All characters and references to "Enterprise" belong to Paramount.

"Two months. Two damn months as of yesterday. Let's see--two months work out to eight weeks, or fifty-six days or one thousand three hundred and forty-four hours--" Trip Tucker grumbled to himself as he wiped the hydraulic grease off his muscled forearms and threw the towels into the recycling bin. He studied his fingernails gloomily, knowing that the greenish gunk under them would require serious scrubbing. Around him, the great hum of the engines was punctuated by sounds of running feet and terse orders. He sighed.

A shakedown cruise was by its very nature an opportunity to work out the flaws and problems inherent to a new ship. In Enterprise's case, the situation became a comedy of errors on a scale no one had ever dreamed of. Pipes broke, conduits clogged, electrical systems shorted with frustrating frequency. Even minor systems such as the toilets could do strange and unpleasant things. Trip had found himself running nonstop from one problem to the next with barely enough time to eat and sleep; everything else went by the wayside.

Consequently, time had flown by, and only after the last few nights of erotic dreams did Trip suddenly realize how long it had been since he'd last seen Sub Commander T'Pol in any personal capacity. His anatomy was starting to remind him, and he fervently hoped she had the same sense of urgency.

"It's his birthday, and I know he's probably forgotten, but I haven't," Archer mused. "Any suggestions?"

Mayweather turned from his station to face his captain. "You're getting him a cake, right?"

"It was my understanding that Chief Tucker is fond of pecan pie," came T'Pol's absent-minded comment from her station. Archer shot her a glance and nodded.

"That's true--I can have Chef add that to the menu."

"Oh man, that's no good--you can't get a stripper to jump out of a pie, Captain," Mayweather teased. Archer grinned and even Reed managed a small smirk. Hoshi rolled her eyes.

"Give it a rest, Travis. Not everyone has dreams of a garter belted floozy prancing around for their birthday."

"I dunno--sounds pretty good to me . . ." Archer managed with a straight face. Hoshi gave an exasperated sigh as the three males on the bridge laughed. T'Pol spoke up in a thoughtful tone.

"Perhaps what Commander Tucker would benefit most from is sleep, Captain. He has been working on a continuous basis for nearly two months and his efficiency rating is down by 12 percent."

"There's a thoughtful, personal gift--" Reed muttered, but Archer shrugged.

"Actually, it might be the best thing we can give him right now-- that and a bottle of bourbon."

"Bourbon?"

"An intoxicant that Trip's been known to indulge in," Archer smiled at some memory as he turned to T'Pol. "I don't suppose Vulcans have any equivalent?"

"Beer has been brewed on my planet for ten centuries, Captain. It is used in various capacities, the most common being agricultural pest control." Snickers greeted this comment, but T'Pol merely rose from her station, ignoring them.

Once in the corridor, she dutifully set out for a research database terminal, her mind running over a myriad of thoughts, almost none of them logical. The heat of her rising fever was still controllable, but another two days would make it difficult to focus on anything beyond the chief engineer. As she quickened her pace, an ancient Vulcan saying rose to mind: Blood calls to blood. She frowned. The saying was illogical. By definition, blood was merely the fluid form of nutritional transport for an organic system. Nevertheless, it echoed in her head again, and she bit her lip.

One of the database terminals was located in a small alcove just off one of the turbo lifts; a convenient relay for the smooth transfer of information among the various stations throughout the ship. The folding door closed accordion style, allowing a single user an iota of privacy to concentrate and avoid the distraction of anyone in the corridor. T'Pol stepped into it, and danced her fingers over the keyboard. She needed to find the results of certain stellar particle scans.

But she typed in 'garterbelt.'

The database refused to give a coherent answer, and instead, sent a row of question marks across the screen. T'Pol frowned and tried again, hyphenating the words: garter-belt. More question marks. She was about to type it in again when the folding door opened; she looked up, knowing by scent exactly who it was.

"I thought that was you in here," he murmured in a low voice. The booth was too small, and T'Pol felt her entire body lock in on his presence, shift focus to the enticing pheromones radiating from him.

"Chief Tucker--" she managed in an almost steady voice that didn't seem to fool him at all. He shot a glance to the door that wouldn't close, and opted to slide into the booth behind her. The press of his chest to her spine was as overwhelming as a wall of fire, and it took all her strength not to lean back against him. He chuckled softly as he looked over her shoulder at the screen.

"Now why in th' world would you be looking up garter belts?" the slow honey of his drawl reverberated in her pointed ear and she suppressed a shiver. T'Pol forced herself to look down at the keyboard.

"A comment on the bridge piqued my curiosity, and I thought it prudent to find the answer in a less public arena," she responded slowly. "Unfortunately, this database seems deficient."

"Hmmm. Well, lemme see if I can help you," Trip whispered. He dropped his hands to her waist, nearly spanning it with his grip. "A garter belt is a piece of lingerie designed to frame the most delectable part of a woman. It's usually made a lace and comes in a lotta different colors, black being my personal favorite."

T'Pol closed her eyes as his fingers slid down her long thighs.

"Now at the front and back of each thigh, there are ribbons with clips to hold up the stockings," he purred into her ear. His touch teasingly circled a point halfway up her legs. "The stockings usually match the belt and only come up to mid thigh."

"Why would anyone wear such a complicated garment?" she snapped in self-defense, desperately pushing his hands away, aware of the heat left in the wake of his touch. He chuckled.

"Darlin', it's a pretty blatant indication that the wearer is interested in sex. Human males generally find them real interesting," Trip breathed softly. The air in the booth was almost sultry; T'Pol was afraid that if she turned around she would lose all control.

"T'Pol . . ." he sighed heavily, "Somebody's going to walk by or get out of the turbolift at any moment, and so help me God I'm about to jump you here and now, keyboard be damned. When can I see you?"

"There is to be a party tonight for you--" she muttered quickly, "-- a birthday celebration. Archer will expect both of us to attend."

"He remembered. All right, but--"

"--There should be time after the festivities, --" she continued. "-- If you come to my cabin."

"I'll be there. Unless you're not really in the mood--" he teased.

She spun around, catching him off guard with a lunging kiss that knocked him back against the wall; Trip caught her in his arms and returned it full force. For five searingly passionate seconds they writhed against the wall in a match of strength and lust, tongues clashing in a wet kiss. Finally breaking away, T'Pol touched the back of her long fingers against her mouth, and shot a look at Trip before calmly stepping out of the booth. He watched her go, and chuckled to himself, running a hand through his hair.

"Happy birthday t' me . . ." he sang softly, grinning.

PART TWO

Chef had come through once again--the meal was more than Trip had dared hope for, and by the satisfied looks on everyone's faces, certainly enough to please them as well. He looked around the Captain's table: Hoshi, Reed, Mayweather, Archer and of course, T'Pol were all looking back at him expectantly. He grinned.

"Well, another year older, but none the wiser I guess," he ventured. Archer laughed and gestured to the pecan pie, which had several candles on it.

"It's all about adaptability, Trip--like this. Take a little of one tradition and a little of the other--"

"--And you end up with a unique birthday cake. Fair enough, Cap'n." Trip finished. He puffed out his cheeks and blew the candles out in one swift gust as Hoshi applauded and the others smiled. Mayweather called,

"Too bad we couldn't get anyone to pop out of it for you, sir."

Trip grinned broadly, avoiding any glance T'Pol's way as he replied, "You volunteering, Travis? "

"Heck no sir--" the young ensign grinned, "my legs are too long, for one thing."

Everyone laughed at that, and Trip picked up the knife, slicing the pie as Archer began to pass the pieces around the table. T'Pol rose, declining a slice with a slight dip of her head.

"I must excuse myself Captain--there are matters that require my attention." She looked at Trip and added, "my best wishes for your celebration."

There was a little awkward pause as she left the room, and Trip had the strange sense of seeing the Science officer from two perspectives at the same time. He felt a sharp tinge of compassion for her loneliness. Archer sighed.

"She just doesn't get it, does she?"

"Oh I dunno Cap'n," Trip countered carefully. "She showed up, after all."

Around the table, Reed and Mayweather were eating with enthusiasm. Hoshi delicately picked the pecans out of the filling one at a time, the true sign of a fussy eater. Archer refilled his wine glass. There was a contented feel to the room, a camaraderie that gave it a glow.

"As of ten minutes ago, Trip, you're off-duty for the next seventy two hours. I hope you're going to use them wisely."

"Oh I intend to," Trip smiled to himself as he scooped a forkful of pie. "Don't worry about that."

*** *** ***

Her room was still had that smoky scent of exotic incense; Trip inhaled it nervously, looking at T'Pol as she gestured for him to sit. She seemed calm despite the heated glow of her skin, and he sensed she had something to say. He surreptitiously patted his pockets and sat down on the pillows opposite her.

T'Pol drew in a breath.

"To be honest, both of us know that the reason you are here has nothing to do with your birthday, and it is not a matter I can delay for much longer. However, it would be disrespectful of me not to acknowledge your milestone in some way."

Trip shook his head, but she stopped him with a keen glance.

"On Vulcan, we celebrate birthdays through meditation and introspection. At birth, we are given a life loop, and at each anniversary, we reflect on the quality we have most fully experienced."

She held out a thick rod, bent in a circle roughly the diameter of an arm, a small knob at each end. The rod had dozens of rings on it, some of metal, some of stone or bone or wood. Intrigued, Trip leaned closer to look at it. Each ring had carvings on it. He touched one reverently.

"They stand for the qualities of that year?"

"Exactly. This one I chose on my tenth birthday." T'Pol fingered a green stone ring. "It is the ancient symbol for awareness. I had completed a trek through the desert and found it to be the precise quality most memorable about that year."

"Wow," Trip gently studied the rings, a sense of awe growing in him. He saw three of the same in a row and tapped them. T'Pol pursed her mouth.

"Three years of patience."

"Difficult?"

"Yes. It is a quality that does not come easily to me. My recuperation in a hospital gave me the framework to cultivate it," she admitted.

"Oh," Trip felt a flush of embarrassment, but she pointed to another ring.

"Serenity. The year I qualified for the Kolinahr." she commented softly. "Almost two decades ago. As you can see, the loop is a merely a way of recording a life. Because it is your birthday, I ask you to think for a moment about which quality you feel you have most experienced this year."

She looked at him expectantly, and Trip concentrated, thinking back over the last twelve months, measuring the indefinable for a long moment. He sighed.

"T'Pol, about the only thing I can claim has changed might be my belief that humans are the best at everything. I've seen other worlds, now, other cultures and beliefs and ways of thinking. So I guess it would have to be humility to some degree."

She very nearly smiled; a faint tug at one corner of her full mouth spoke volumes to him and he laughed.

"I know, I know--the great Trip Tucker claiming to be humble, but it's true."

She held out a hand to him, and the ring on her palm caught the light. A worn and grey stone ring, the carving around it was of small waves. Trip took it from her, and when he glanced up, she nodded.

"I too, thought that you have shown great growth in the quality of humility. Perhaps there are not as many differences in the universe as we may have believed."

The smile was in her voice if not her face, and Trip felt something warm and happy rise through him in response. He looked down quickly.

"I'll treasure it," he promised her. She rose, and moved to pack the life loop away as he tucked the ring deep in a pocket. His fingers touched something soft.

"Oh . . ." drawing it out, he felt the hot flush of red race over his face; T'Pol looked over at him expectantly as he withdrew his hand.

"Uh, this was for you . . ." he admitted sheepishly. "I stopped by the Quartermaster and . . ."

" . . .Brought me a garter belt," she finished for him dryly. He nodded, but she strode over and took it from his hand, studying it with the same intensity she would have given a lab specimen.

"Do you wish me to wear it?" came her soft query. Trip looked down into her exotic eyes, suddenly seeing something there. He grinned.

"Yes. But . . . I get to put it on you," he requested. She locked glances with him, and the room became warmer. T'Pol turned her back to him.

"Unzip me, please," she requested. He took the tiny tab and dragged it down, delighting in the gradual exposure of her long well defined spine. He pressed a kiss just at the back of her neck and watched her shiver. The cat suit fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, scooping it up to set it aside. Trip drew in a breath when she faced him again.

Taking the scrap of lace from her fingers, he slid it around her tiny waist, letting his warm hands move slowly over her bare skin. He slipped the hook into the loop at the back. She stood perfectly still, but he could see the tension across her flesh.

"That's my girl . . ." he whispered slowly. Fishing in another pocket, he pulled out the stockings and dropped on his knees. Trip picked up her right foot and playfully kissed her toes before guiding them into the stocking. The heat of her skin excited him, and he could sense her arousal by touch, by taste. The left foot followed and Trip had trouble hitching up the stockings; his hands trembled.

Once done, he lingered, looking up at the marvelous planes and curves and hollows of her torso. Her skin gleamed, and the black lace perfectly complemented the golden bronze of her skin. Trip's mouth was suddenly dry. She looked down, running her long hands over the belt, touching the stockings lightly.

"Any garment that holds the power to render you speechless is worth noting, " she announced, somewhat breathlessly.

Trip reached out, skimming his fingers around the silky legs up to the back of her bare thighs. Cupping her bottom, he stood up, pulling her to him. They kissed hard, with a desperate sucking of tongues, blindly spinning until T'Pol's back hit the cabin wall. She scrabbled for the zipper of his uniform, managing to undo it by luck rather than accuracy as he nibbled on her neck. Trip wasted no time on niceties; he peeled the uniform off, letting it sag to his knees as he reached for T'Pol once more.

With the easy strength of his muscled arms, Trip scooped her up, pinning her high against the wall once more. She parted her thighs, one hand guiding him as he thrust himself into her slick flesh. T'Pol moaned, hands clutching his back, long legs locking around his waist. Trip groaned deeply. His hands tightened on her bottom as he thrust again and again, his mouth hard on hers.

"Oh, oh Darlin' I *need* you . . ." he whispered raggedly on her full lips. T'Pol arched her head back, the grip of her thighs around him tightening as she felt herself begin to spasm. Nails raked his shoulders, but Trip barely felt them as moments later his rhythm suddenly intensified and he felt himself gush deep in the wet heat of her. With a final racking shudder, he managed to lower them both to the pillow-strewn floor without falling. T'Pol clung to him. Trip took several deep breaths and stroked her back gently.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted you so much and---We can go slower next time," he muttered, looking down at her. T'Pol's eyes glowed.

"Mutual needs were mutually satisfied," she replied. "There is no need to apologize." She shifted to his side, quietly content for the moment, and Trip closed his eyes as a lovely lassitude crept over him. The candles flickered.

He awoke with a start a few hours later, disoriented for a moment. The room was dark. He felt something warm against his side; with a smile, he curled around T'Pol, draping one arm across her waist in a possessive hug. Without waking she sighed, and Trip felt a rush of tenderness. He whispered softly.

"I know you don't want to hear it, and so I guess I won't say it. But an unspoken truth is as much a truth as any, T'Pol, and if it takes me this whole year to get you to admit it, I'll do it."

He closed his eyes again, at peace with himself.

END

Feedback welcome: cincoflex@aol.com

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Nine of you have made comments

Interesting story. I liked it.
Well written.

Any more follow ups coming? both before and after?

This was lovely and nicely erotic at the end. I was so pleased they got together to celebrate in a more personal vein. Sigh. Thank you so much, it was beautiful. Ali D :~)
Unable to wipe a happy little smile off her face

Very good story. All three of them are very good. This has piqued my interest greatly. I must say, that my heart is still beating slightly faster. :)

Very well written. I always wanted to read a story that involved Trip's birthday.

Keep writing! You're great at it!

I found this page while looking for Vulcan sayings. It's very well written and fits their characters. I hope you keep writing.

Pretty....

Nice story. I Love these kind of T\T stories. Excellent job!

wow nice story lik these storys 2. thnkxs x

I've read these three stories several times and loke them as much now as the first. It'd be great if you could continue the story = follow up Trip's wish , develope their relationship more