Faith-Part 17

"FAITH OF THE HEART"
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: NC-17.
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html
SUMMARY": "When members of the crew go suddenly missing, Captain Archer finds the only witness is unable to tell them anything. Lt Reed takes it upon himself to turn detective."
DISCLAIMER: The characters and 'Enterprise' belong to Paramount. No
infringement of copyright is intended.

Part 17

* * * * *

Dr. Lerik was unequivocal. His senior medical staff stared at him in disbelief. Dr. Utrian actually managed to frame his thoughts into words. Quite a feat given his sense of shock. "This facility has been here decades, sir."

Dr. Lerik nodded. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a determined look in his calm eyes. "I know precisely how long this facility has been here."

The doctor had the grace to feel something akin to mild embarrassment. "Forgive me, I meant no offence."

"Our primary purpose remains the same. The inner council is adamant that we must not allow ourselves to be compromised."

The youngest doctor on his staff, Dr. Evik, looked as if he was about to have a coronary. "Where will we go?"

"Dr. Evik, Surak teaches us to embrace difficulties. Use obstacles as stepping stones to greater understanding and higher achievement. This is not a retreat but an advance in a different direction."

Dr. Evik frowned but said nothing. He felt a slow calming sensation and waited with the others to hear the details.

"A new place has been found for us and even as we speak transports are en route to assist us."

"Sir?" Dr. Torval paused. "What about the equipment? Much has been invested here."

"It is only a place, Torval. Equipment can be replicated. Only Vulcan can ever be home."

They all mumbled muted agreement at that stark truth. Dr. Lerik made a gesture for them to disperse. "Gather your things; it is almost time to go."

* * * * *

If Dr. Phlox was surprised to see both Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol he did not show it. He was feeding his bat but still gave them a cheery smile and chattered brightly over his shoulder. "I won't be a moment."

The Commander glanced at Sub-Commander T'Pol to see how she was holding up. That glance almost undid him. He could feel a coiling heat flickering like flames up his spine. A stir in the groin shivering through his genitalia that almost elicited a tell tale growl of arousal. This was a mistake. He should have insisted they spoke to the doctor separately and yet they both needed to do this. Perhaps afterwards they could speak about their more intimate problem? He was beginning to think maybe they should ask the doctor about that first when the doctor turned around to face them, a beam of delight on his face. "Now. What can I do for you?"

Mercifully T'Pol spoke first directing attention away from the Commander's flushed face. "We wish to speak to you about some unusual dreams we have been experiencing, doctor. You asked the Commander what he could remember about our time on Rastak. Discussing your comment caused us both to recall dreams about the planet. Dreams that make absolutely no sense on waking."

Dr. Phlox tried to hide his excitement. At last. Perhaps now he would get the confirmation he needed to be able to bring his fears to the Captain. The doctor set out three chairs and indicated for them to take a seat. T'Pol sat to the doctor's right; the Commander simply stood behind his chair and rested a hand on the back of it. The Sub-Commander noticed his knuckle turning white as he gripped it but studiously avoided catching his eye. "My dream was most disturbing. I had flashes, images that seemed to indicate I was either tied down or in some way incapacitated. It is of course ridiculous but accompanying the images I experienced..." She broke off as if reluctant to continue. Dr. Phlox leant forward in his chair.

"Yes, Sub-Commander, you were saying?"

She focused on him for a moment then carried on. "I felt an unreasoning level of fear."

There was a moment's silence before the doctor spoke. He did not sound at all mocking which surprised the Sub-Commander. In fact he was taking the whole thing very seriously. A fact which she found pleasing and reassuring. "What else do you remember?"

"It was a *dream*, doctor."

He nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, of course. My mistake. What else can you recall from the dream? Were there any people you recognised? Any conversation you remember taking place?"

She frowned. Her feeling of unease growing. "I felt a sense of danger."

"What kind of danger?"

Without realising she was doing it she flicked a quick glance at Trip. The Commander was having difficulty controlling his breathing. His face was washed with perspiration and he seemed to be hyperventilating. Dr. Phlox caught the movement, turned his head and for the first time noticed that the Commander appeared to be in some kind of distress. He jumped up and took a step towards him.

"Don't....don't touch me, doc."

Alarm spread on the doctor's good natured face. All thoughts of dreams vanished from his mind. "Commander, you do not look well. Please, allow me to examine you."

Trip took a groggy step backward. The Sub-Commander eyed him with concern. He looked far worse than he had earlier. She wished she could reach out to him, touch him. Love and reassure him. Trip closed his eyes and groaned, her thoughts brushing his and making him so damn horny. His pants were too tight and he could not get a decent breath into his lungs. Dr. Phlox reached him and put a hand on his shoulder. The Commander's eyes flew open with a deeper groan and a look of sheer humiliation and horror. "Oh gawd I told ya not to touch me!"

The doctor did not understand his distress then looked down as Trip did the same. He realised that for whatever reason, the Commander had just had a non-voluntary ejaculation. Quickly he got a hypospray and pressed it to the Commander's neck to calm him down then guided him to a cubicle to clean up. Trip was convinced that he would die of embarrassment. In his head he could hear T'Pol trying to calm him down.

*It is not your fault, Trip*

*Yeah, try tellin' that to my over excited hormones. All I want to do is throw ya up against a wall and ram you senseless*

She arched an eyebrow but her eyes were filled with deep concern. This was no laughing matter. Dr Phlox followed him into the cubicle where the Commander had undressed and waited until he had washed himself down, handing him a towel to dry off on. He noticed how tender he was around the genitalia and excused himself momentarily. He returned with a pot of clear gel and unscrewed the lid. "Here, this will help to ease the pain. Coat your hand then rub it in. Try to be thorough, Commander."

Commander Tucker did not argue or ask what was in the medication, he simply dipped his right hand in the pot and took a generous amount of the gel then coated his erection carefully, wincing at the soreness then closing his eyes in bliss as the cool gel began to relieve the pain. For the first time in hours his penis began to deflate. With a sigh of blessed relief he opened half glazed eyes and looked at the doctor in awed appreciation. "Whatever that is doc ya ought to patent it. That's the first relief I've had in days."

Days? Dr. Phlox tried to hide his concern. This was even worse than he thought. "I will have some more synthesised for your use, Commander, but first I need to give you a thorough check up."

Trip managed a smile. His natural good nature coming back to the fore. "Do your worst, doc."

The Denobulan frowned at the expression but made no comment. Too caught up in his examination, checking and re-checking his findings before regarding the Commander with a hesitant sigh. The Commander was unaware of the consternation he was causing to the good doctor.

He reached for his clothes. "So what's the verdict, doc?"

Dr. Phlox looked uncomfortable. Watched the Commander dressing, mind distracted. Sub-Commander T'Pol joined them, anxious to know what his conclusions were. She watched the doctor closely, her heightened senses acutely aware of every movement Trip made. She did not have to look at him. Her senses saturated with his scent. Her mind reaching out for his even as she tried to keep her thoughts on the moment. The doctor noticed beads of sweat forming above her top lip. Her skin beginning to glisten due to her proximity to her mate. Her reaction confirming his diagnosis. He was not quite sure how to phrase what needed to be said. "Uh hum, if you were a Vulcan, Commander Tucker, this would be so much easier..."

The Commander finished doing up the buttons on his shirt. "Just spit it out, doc."

"I do not know how this could have happened but all the indications show you to be in the early stages of Pon Farr."

The Commander looked at him in shock. The presence of the Sub-Commander only inches away from him was beginning to have a profound physical effect all but nullifying the relief rendered to him by the doctor's gel. He could feel himself hardening again, his sexual urges even stronger than last time. *Oh no, not now. Please God, not now* He shut his eyes quickly and bit back a groan before forcing his eyes open again. He tried not to pant with desire as he spoke. "That's... not... possible."

Dr. Phlox took in the Commander's condition then looked at the Sub-Commander. "I would have agreed with you until now, Commander." The Sub-Commander was literally glowing. When Vulcan males entered Pon Farr it would trigger the Pon Frell in females. If he was not much mistaken T'Pol was exhibiting classic signs of being just as sexually aroused as the Commander. Their proximity to each other was creating a spiral of sexual energy that it would soon be impossible for them to ignore.

Sub-Commander T'Pol was stunned. It took increasing effort for her to think clearly. To concentrate on anything other than the Commander. "Doctor you must be mistaken. Only Vulcan males enter Pon Farr and they do so once every seven years. There is no way that Commander Tucker could be experiencing this condition."

"I'm sorry, Sub-Commander, but his hormone levels do not lie."

Trip frowned, his breathing getting laboured. His vision beginning to blur. Lust building and driving him crazy. He tried to hide how much discomfort he was in to prevent T'Pol becoming even more worried. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her and make love to her until his heart gave out but he could hardly say that out loud. T'Pol looked at him and he realised she was well aware of every thought going through his head. That she wanted it too. Inwardly he groaned at the heat building between them, their mental link adding stimuli that he could not block out. Images flooding his mind of all the things he wanted to do to T'Pol, her mental images superimposing themselves on his, the erotic mental interplay a kind of foreplay to sex. It was so powerful that not touching her was painful. He looked to Dr. Phlox for help. He was trembling as he struggled for control. "Ya got anything to take away the craving, doc?" He just knew the gel would not be strong enough to inhibit the reactions running rampant right now through his taut and over sensitised body. He could feel his testicles growing heavy, the blood pumping hot and furious through the inflated tissues of his penis. His spine tingling. His nerve endings frying and making his hands twitch. *Oh God, oh God, I can't hang on...*

The Denobulan shook his head, a look of fascination replacing his earlier look of concern. Great. Now the doctor was getting excited about his condition. Would probably want a front row seat while he and T'Pol made wild passionate love. He felt T'Pol in his mind and could not quite keep the smile off his face even as he flushed a deep red.

*I refuse to allow anyone to watch us make love* She stated flatly. Not a hint of humour in her thoughts.

He flashed her a grin. *We could always sell tickets*

Her arched eyebrow warned him to drop the subject but was ruined by the way her skin shone and lips seemed to flesh out in a direct invitation to be kissed. He was not even aware of the presence of Dr Phlox now. There was only T'Pol. His mate. His life partner. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He reached for her, his control snapping. Reason all shot to hell. Control be damned. Desire and need paramount. Dr. Phlox moved quickly. Realised that nothing could prevent the mating fever. That to attempt to stop them now would actually cause them harm. The only solution was to let nature take its' course. The cubicle was not only inadequate but entirely too fragile and their respective quarters were too far away. In fact he doubted he could get them out into the corridor before the inevitable happened. His mind raced. Too few options and no time. He started to propel them towards the room he kept for himself in sickbay but realised it would not afford the level of privacy and security they would require. His expression lightened with a sudden flash of inspiration. *Ah, the decontamination chamber. Perfect!* Trip had managed to squirm around the doctor's grip and was now lip locked with T'Pol. Their bodies gyrating around him in an effort to get closer to each other.

Dr. Phlox was panting now with the exertion of trying to force, coerce and physically manhandle two people driven by the intense desire to mate. He got the chamber open, quickly set the cycle for three hours, then shoved them inside. But the good doctor had reckoned without the blind encompassing passion of the Vulcan mating fever. Half trapped between Trip and T'Pol his shove propelled not only the two lust enamoured lovers but also himself into the decontamination chamber. He had no time to panic. Twisting he managed to break away from their embrace and stumble backwards. He came up against the metal wall and felt something click then a loud familiar hiss as something moved behind him. He turned in horror and dashed for the door. "No!"

Too late the seal was made. The locking mechanism coded for the three hour cycle. He banged his forehead against the unyielding mass. He was trapped inside. Dr. Phlox took a few deep breaths then true to his practical Denobulan nature he turned around and decided to make the most of the situation presented to him. Without a trace of embarrassment he settled down to watch. Regretting only that he had no way of making notes. He would have to pay close attention so that he could be as accurate as possible when it came to detailing his observations. Fascinating. A Human and a Vulcan in the grip of Pon Farr. Fortunately they did not register his presence. Were too wrapped up in undressing each other as their gyrations became more intense, the touch of their hands more intimate as clothing gave way to naked flesh, to notice that they had an audience after all.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Anna Hess tossed and turned. It was that dream again. Ghostly visions haunting her sleep yet also nudging at her mind as if trying to tell her something. She sighed, laying back on her bed with her eyes shut and weariness seeping through her limbs. She did not need to look at her clock to know that she had only been asleep an hour or so. Her eyes opened slowly. She did not move. In the darkness she stared unseeing up at the ceiling, trying to capture the latent images impressed upon her mind's eye. They were fragmenting so quickly now. Wispy veils that left her frustrated and oddly unsettled. Then she felt a dampness between her legs. She frowned. Alarmed enough to put the lights on and sit up. She flung back her covers and stared in abject horror. A small pool of blood was soaking through her bedding from her vagina.

She reached out a trembling hand, sure she must still be in the grip of the dream. But the blood was real. Distraught she watched it stain the fingers of her right hand while she watched with distracted fascination as the little pool of blood kept growing.

* * * * *

The Captain was tetchy. Porthos remained curled in his basket having deserted the warmth of his master's bed for a safer haven. Jonathan Archer sat up in bed, his hair a tousled mess. Sleep deprived eyes looked boss eyed for a moment then focus seeped back into them. He looked down at his dog, his expression apologetic. His tone soothing. Contrite. "I'm sorry, Porthos. Just a nightmare."

The little dog looked up. The Captain smiled, sighed then hunkered down next to the dog and gave him a fuss. He looked at his clock. 3:00 a.m. Too early to go and see Trip. Talk over what was happening with the doctor. And if he turned up on the bridge at this hour he would just alarm everybody. He gave another sigh and decided to write the dream down. Perhaps that would help to objectify the nightmare. Then. At a more reasonable hour he would go and see his friend Trip and reassure himself that it was just a bad dream after all.

Sitting at his desk in only his boxer shorts he stared at a picture of him and the Commander with an arm around each other, laughing into the camera lens. The Enterprise proud and pristine behind them. Another dream. Only that one had come true in the most spectacular fashion. He smiled and picked up the picture, staring at it and allowing memories to flood him with a thousand emotions. His eyes pricked as he thought of his beloved father. Henry Archer. This was *his* dream and they were living it. The thought warmed his heart even as it saddened him. He should have been here for this. Lived to see it come true.

He placed the picture frame back. Went to turn on his personal log when the com sounded. He sighed and gave Porthos a long suffering look then got up to answer it. "Captain Archer, what is it?"

Travis Mayweather's apologetic voice was serious. "Captain, we need you on the bridge.

He frowned at the tension he sensed underlying his words. "What's happened?"

"A ship has just decloaked. I had to wake Ensign Sato to make sense of the hail."

"I'm on my way. Notify the rest of the senior staff to meet me there."

"Aye sir."

* * * * *

T'Pol arched her back. She was standing facing the Commander, her hands guiding him down to his knees. They were both slippery and slick with sweat, their pheromones thickening the enclosed space of the decontamination chamber. Dr. Phlox watched mesmerised caught up in the heat of their passion. From a purely scientific point of view, of course. They had already made love half a dozen times and he marveled at the human's ability to keep up with his insatiable, not to mention violent, partner. He wondered how much of his stamina was due to the Pon Farr. Now he watched mouth agog as T'Pol splayed her right hand against the left side of the Commander's face, while guiding him to her sex. What was she doing?

He watched Trip's eyes roll back then the eyelids closed. His mouth opened then he was leaning into her, burying his face gently in her public hair as she guided him, his hands coming up to part the hair from her lips while he probed her sex with his tongue. Fascinating. Obviously the Vulcan was telling him *exactly* what she wanted and Trip was providing it. Trip slid his hands around the cheeks of her ass, holding her in place while he licked, sucked and probed. Mouth, tongue, lips. Glorious penetration. Delicious suction. The tongue teasing, probing, lapping, stroking. Her free hand now slid through his hair, tugging at the roots as she shoved her hips hard into his face while still keeping the mind meld. A strange utterly sensual sound filled the chamber and it took the Denobulan a moment to realise it was coming from the Sub-Commander. She was keening. Her pleasure so intense. Her hips were moving now, slowly rocking up against her partner's face. She deepened the mind meld, pushing him further and further into their enjoined passion. She wanted him inside her now. She was ready and impatient for completion. With a groan he released her and was immediately thrown on to his back. Dr. Phlox winced for him. Knew there would be more than bruises when the frenzy of mating finally ended. Trip did not resist but lay panting, eyes closed, her hand still keeping the meld intact. Dr. Phlox watched her caress his erection with her free hand, the motion smooth but not gentle. Luckily they were so slick that her hand slid up and down his penis as if it was oiled. Trip groaned and stirred beneath her hand, his arousal growing and his penis beginning to leak, but did not open his eyes. She kissed his face, licked the sweat off his neck and purred into his ear. Her free hand increased the pressure on him until it was painful, his groans grew louder, more lust ladened. He was so close he could not hang on any longer. She knew. Wanted to have him dangling over the edge. She eased back enough on his erection to prevent premature ejaculation but not enough to take him away from the edge as his come continued to leak slowly and run down her fingers. It was a fine balance which she had honed to an art form.

T'Pol positioned herself over him, smiled gently down at him and paused, willing him to open his eyes. The lids fluttered open slowly as if they had been weighted down. Glazed and hot with passion he just stared at her, unable to form words he mutely adored her. Then T'Pol teased the head of his penis against her moist slit, parting her fleshy lips to allow penetration. His groan leaked out as if squeezed from his very gut, and she milked his reaction for all it was worth, watching his face intently so that she could drink in the intensity of his emotions and feed off his reaction. Dragging it out before impaling herself on him with such a sudden violent thrust that he cried out and shook. Eyes closing as his mind was flooded with the intensity of her need and the full unbridled craving of unreasoned lust. He rose to the challenge but she slowed him down. He was aching now. It was so hard to just hold on but he had to. For her. T'Pol made each thrust of his hips a drawn out exercise in stamina. He was moaning now, the effort so intense, his concentration on fulfilling her desire as completely as was humanly possible. He was trapped between pleasure and pain. She knew. Exulted in his passion for her. His love firing her with heightening desires that were running him ragged. Yet he could not stop reacting to her demands and she could not stop clawing at him for one more orgasm, deeper penetration, more sensations and feelings to rock both body and soul in an endless spasm of conjoined sex.

Exhausted he still performed. Drained of all but the madness of the fever that bound them like a drug. He moved through her slick heat. Slowly pumping. Her walls sucked at his engorged muscle, clinging to him and flexing around him. Heightening the sensation for him. She loved how he throbbed inside her. Cried out her name as she orgasmed around him. She loved him. Adored him. Would have devoured him whole if she could have. He was too shattered to do anything but acquiesce. Anything she wanted. Her grip on his mind became gentle. Reverent even. As if it was a holy place, sacred ground now christened with her blood and his jism. The violence of their first few matings had cut them both. Not enough to cause harm but just enough to add another level to their uncontrollable passion. Dr. Phlox was drained just watching them. Never in his life had he seen such a sustained sexual performance as this. Was it this intense between Vulcans or was part of the incredible endurance due to the mix of Human and Vulcan? He did not know but he wanted to find out. He just needed to get his breath back first.

* * * * *

Captain Archer stared. He spoke to Ensign Sato without turning his head. "Try to hail them again, Ensign."

Ensign Sato was halfway through doing so when they were cut off by an incoming transmission. Hoshi immediately aborted her attempted hail and put the transmission through the universal translator. The image of the ship vanished from the screen to be replaced by a stern looking male with jet black short hair.

"You are violating Romulan space. Your presence here is an act of war. Surrender now and prepare to be boarded!"

The Captain blinked. "Romulan space?"

The screen switched back to the view of the Romulan vessel. Lieutenant Reed's face was pinched with anxiety. "They are energising weapons, Captain."

"Polarise the hull plating!" Captain Archer turned his head and frowned. "Where is Sub-Commander T'Pol and Commander Tucker?"

"I couldn't raise them, Captain." Said Ensign Sato.

Just then the first broadside hit the Enterprise rocking the ship. The lights flickered then steadied. "Lieutenant Reed, fire at will!"

"Yes, sir!"

The Captain's lips compressed into an unforgiving line. He was really feeling pissed now. "Ensign, raise the Commander and Sub-Commander NOW. I don't care where they are or what they are doing, is that understood?"

The communications officer nodded. "Yes, sir!"

To Be Continued

* * * * *

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Four of you have made comments

*GROAN* Oh Gawd! Oh wow... poor Phlox... NOT!!

Oh wow...
um Jon... don't think ya want the commanders right now.

this post was so hot so dang good. for an
emotionally repressing race those Vulcans can sure
cut loose!

what happens when they um are done... ya think they'll be so exhausted that the Doc will be able
to get out of there unnoticed?

yummmmmmm keep these kinda parts coming please

*oh pun not intended*

This chapter was so hot, I had to turn up the air conditioning to read it. Please, hurry and post another chapter.

Zoinks! *gulp*

Alison, you are the queen of T/T'P NC-17. ;-)

HOT DAMN!......That's all I have to say.