Friends- Part 9

"FRIENDS AND LOVERS"
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

SUMMARY: "Dr Phlox and Lt. Reed search for their companions. Things are getting more intense between Trip and T'Pol. Captain Archer finds himself going out of his mind with worry."
Rated: NC-17.
The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' belong to Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.
Feedback to: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

* * * * *

Part Nine

"Saturation Point"

Lt Reed stared at the doctor. "I fail to see how how an organic reaction can help us."

Undaunted, Dr Phlox's smile did not falter. "Lieutenant, be so kind as to place your hand on the wall and leave it there."

"Why?"

"Please, just do it. If I am wrong we have not lost anything."

Frowning, the armoury officer did as he was told and placed the palm of his right hand against the wall. He was looking at the doctor with a slightly puzzled expression. "If you ask me this is a load of..."

Then he froze and turned his head to look at the wall. Was it his imagination or did it seem to be shrinking away from his hand? He looked at Dr Phlox whose V-shaped smile was in danger of consuming his whole face. "It's working."

"What's working?" Said the lieutenant crossly.

"Calm down, lieutenant, and please lower your voice."

He actually looked contrite. "Sorry."

"That's better. Now I want you to turn to face the wall - slowly - not taking your hand away from its currently position. I am going to step up behind you and put my hands around your waist..."

Lt Reed felt a very distinct aversion to his doing any such thing and was about to say so when he remembered where they were and what they were intending to do. He gritted his teeth and nodded. Held back from telling the doctor how much he did not like to be touched. He took a deep breath. "What now?"

"Now, lieutenant, let us get out of our 'locked room' and see where this goes."

"What goes? We'd be wandering blinding through the walls of a ship the size of all the cities of England combined. We're just going to get lost and be of no use to anyone."

"That is a distinct possibility." Said the doctor cheerfully.

"Then why are we doing this?"

"Don't you want to get out of here, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, of course."

"Don't you want to locate the Commander and Sub-Commander?"

"Certainly, but what good are we if we don't know where we're going?"

The doctor resisted the urge to get cross with him. In some ways the Englishman's necessity to reason everything out reminded him of Vulcan logic. "If we knew where we were going, lieutenant, how do you think that would help?"

"At least we wouldn't be wandering around blindly."

"Lieutenant, we still would not know where the Commander and Sub-Commander were." Responded Dr Phlox mildly.

The armoury officer went quiet then steeled himself. "Just so long as you understand my reservations, doctor."

"Noted. Now we need to explore as much as we are able before this ship finds a way to counteract its reaction to you. This is the only chance we have."

Lt Reed nodded. "Understood." Then pushed his hand through the retreating sides of the wall creating an opening around his hand. He put up his other hand and the same thing happened. Keeping both outstretched in front of him he started to walk forward, the wall opening around him to let him pass and by extension letting the doctor pass with him.

Unsurprisingly they found themselves inside another white organic room. Dr Phlox smiled and nodded to the lieutenant. "Go on. We may have to go through dozens if not hundreds of these compartments before we find the others."

"Then what? How does that get us out of this floating mausoleum?"

"Mausoleum? The Commander and Sub-Commander are not dead, Lieutenant."

"How do you know that? Trip was acting very distant when we got here. As if he was already half gone."

"You misunderstand the intelligence of this organism. Our colleagues are of no use to the Sanacrid dead. It is an organic ship therefore the parts it needs have to be organic too."

Lt Reed paled a little but dutifully approached the next wall and repeated the procedure, the wall opening around his hands to allow him to pass through. More intent seemingly on having as little contact with him than in keeping him confined to one room. Half under his breath he could not help but mutter, "Two down just a couple of hundred more to go. How hard can it be?"

* * * * *

He could not tell if he was standing up, sitting or lying down. The white expanse had at first hurt his eyes. Now it simply was accepted as something he could not change. Something clung to him. Moved against his skin when he breathed. His skin? What the hell had happened to his clothes? He felt a greater mind stir in his sluggish one.

*Your concern is irrelevant, Trip*

*Is that you? The Sanacrid, the heart of the ship, the interface or whatever you are?*

He felt humour wash gently through him only this time he felt soiled by the touch. Sorrow lapped his senses as if his reaction hurt the creature. *Yes. You are hurting yourself by resisting me*

The crawling sensation inside his brain was driving him nuts. Then he felt T'Pol's hand in his and began to calm. The Sanacrid was pleased. It had made the right choice bringing the female. Unfortunately two others had come as well but any price was worth it if it gave him what he wanted. What his organism needed to flourish.

Trip could only move a little. The strange flexible mass that was clinging to him had the weirdest properties. It felt cold like a gel but also warm like insulating material. Only it also seemed to have nerves running through it, nerves that shivered through his own nervous system. When it moved it creeped out his whole body. Gradually he was able to ignore it in the main, the sensations being non-stop. He reduced the feeling to that of background noise and tried to concentrate on what was happening. He reached for T'Pol with his mind, not wanting to open his mouth and swallow part of the ship in the process.

*Are you all right, T'Pol?*

*I am uninjured*

He mentally sighed. *That's not quite what I meant*

*I am not happy being here*

*I'm sorry*

*Do not blame yourself*

*But I do. If the Sanacrid hadn't wanted me to augment the ship's systems you wouldn't have got dragged into this*

She felt his sorrow for her and felt even more drawn to him. Wanted to reassure him and ease his distress. The Vulcan thought how she could do this. Her vision was in no way impaired. While she also saw a predominance of white she could also clearly see the Commander enclosed in it. Her own body partly in and out of the section that was absorbing her friend. She knew he was alive because of their mind link but also because she was holding his hand. The comfort she gave to him also helped her to avoid total panic. He sensed a change in her thoughts.

*What are you doing?*

*I'm trying to think of a way to get closer to you*

That surprised him. Wasn't hell close enough? *Why?*

She was not sure how to answer that though deep down he probably already knew. *It would be less distressing for us both*

Her answer seemed to settle him. The Sanacrid observed their interaction with pleasure. Allowed some of his feelings to filter through into the Commander and Sub-Commander. This time he was subtle, wanting them to forget his presence if just for a moment. While T'Pol wriggled carefully closer through the substance to get closer to the Commander, the Sanacrid sailed the complex neural pathways of his brain. Gently opened up memories and sifted through his life's experiences for information it could use. Trip trembled. T'Pol reached out for him again with her mind as her body finally came to rest alongside his own. *You are trembling*

*I feel as if I'm fadin' in an' out."

*In and out of what?*

*Consciousness only it's not that*

Her thoughts were a soothing balm. The Sanacrid gently encouraged her to mirror the actions of her mind with her hands. The substance surrounding the Commander rolling away so that she could make physical contact with him. A strange thin transparent gel remained, somehow heightening the gift of touch as T'Pol put a hand on Trip's chest. He wished he could move beyond being able to wiggle his fingers and thumb. As if the thought produced the action, his right hand came free. Without thinking he raised his hand and touched T'Pol's face. Heat flashed between them. Intensified their thoughts to a burning inferno of emotions and needs. The Sanacrid was able to slip deep, distract the human from what he was doing by flooding him and T'Pol with urgent biological needs. T'Pol rolled her hips up and brushed against him. His mind gasped as his body reacted, her right hand now moved to cradle the left side of his face, her fingers splaying automatically as she slid her body on top of his. At least it answered one of his questions. He was definitely lying on his back.

* * * * *

Captain Archer could not stop pacing. He had not been able to sleep, eat, relax for a moment since his crew had left for the City Ship. He was furious with himself but also grieving for the whole crew of the Enterprise. They were a tightly knit body of men and women, devoted to their mission and fiercely loyal to one another. Even Sub-Commander T'Pol had been fully accepted into the affections of the crew though most of them were still wary around her. There was also a firm pride in the fact that *their* Vulcan had stood up to her own High Command to defend the ship and its' crew. The Captain had told them that her intervention had kept the mission going. They were bound. All of them. By loyalty and a shared vision. Now all that was in jeopardy. The life of their friends hanging in the balance of an entity they could not even begin to understand.

The com startled him. It was Lt. Hess in Engineering. "Captain?"

"Yes, Lt. Hess?"

"Can I see you for a moment."

He wondered what had happened. It would be typical for an engineering problem to arise while his Chief Engineer was away. He bit his lip. "I'll be right there, lieutenant."

He was actually glad to have something to do. He glanced at Hoshi. "You have the bridge, Ensign."

She nodded and watched him leave. Troubled glances were etched onto the faces of all the bridge crew. Even the irrepressible optimism of Travis Mayweather had been badly dented but he still clung to his faith that somehow the Captain would get them out of this.

Engineering was a quietly humming island of tranquility when Captain Archer got there. He paused and tried to fight back the pain of not seeing his friend's face greet him. This was Trip's domain not his. He might be the Captain but in some ways it was his gently larconic friend who actually ran it. Without him nothing was assured. Now he noted that not only was Lt. Hess waiting for him so were all of Trip's engineering crew. He frowned. Suddenly wishing he had asked the lieutenant to meet him in the situation room or the Captain's quarters. Anywhere more private than this. He tried not to frown at her. "How can I help you, Lt.?"

"It's about the hostages, sir."

Hostages? What hostages? Then he thought of his missing crew. Well. Hostages might be an accurate description though they had been given no demands to ensure their release. "We'll get them back. Somehow. I am not leaving this system without my Chief Engineer, Science Officer, Armoury Officer or ship's Doctor."

A little murmur of relieved agreement hummed through the sea of faces then it went quiet again.

"Sir. The entire engineering and armoury crew wished me to tell you that they are prepared to pull any shifts to enable a rescue to be put into operation. We even have a few ideas of our own."

For the first time since the whole nightmare had begun, the Captain felt a genuine smile slip on to his exhausted face. He allowed his glance to pan slowly over the sea of grim but poised faces, now noticing Lt Reed's people standing shoulder to shoulder with Commander Tucker's. He felt a surge of pride and affection. He brought his gaze back to rest expectantly on Lt Hess. "You say you have a few ideas, Lt.?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded and his expression became solemn again. Like a man preparing to lift a heavy weight. "Good. I want to hear them all."

* * * * *

It was so electric, so intense. Robbed him of any thought that did not involve T'Pol. The mind meld intensified everything, the Sanacrid augmenting their connection with his own but too subtly for them to notice. He was in stealth mode now. Commander Tucker was awash with the Vulcan's suppressed emotions. He had no idea she felt things so deeply. It moved him that her thoughts of him were so intense. He cried inwardly for her, the sterile life she had led before Enterprise was like the equivalent of fifty years hard labour to him. He embraced her with emotions so gentle, so deep, so all encompassing that she was amazed. There were depths to the human that taught her more about their two natures than a hundred years of talking would ever have accomplished. She felt his affection, intensified to a point where her sex sizzled just to touch the outpouring from his heart. A love that knew no boundaries. Her reaction excited him with a deep joy born of a caring nature. She knew. Understood.

*Oh T'Pol, I can hardly believe this is really happenin'*

He felt her moving very slowly on top of him, her hips cupping his and making the most of every point of contact so that he gasped. Before he could close his mouth again her lips completed the seal. His eyes closed on a slice of heaven as she stole his breath and made it her own. Her free hand drifted down and slid between their slick bodies, the thin membrous gel tingling against his skin and making him hyper-aware of her touch. He was trembling inside and out now, heat gathering in his loins, her hips raising enough for her hand to enclose him. He groaned into her mouth. Still her lips had not released him. She orchestrated his breathing with her own, using images from her mind to his to excite and heighten his receptivity so that he would not only know what she wanted but move automatically to fulfill her needs. Her thoughts lapped his, her hand moving slowly up and down his hardening shaft until the movement was painful. Such delicious pain, such intense feelings and desire. He felt her volcanic heat as she raised her hips suddenly then impaled herself down upon his shaft making him shudder and tingle.

He cried out into the vacuum of her mouth, unable to breathe without her. She guided him back to a semblance of calm, his ragged heartbeat slowing to match hers while the blood thundered in his ears. T'Pol began to rock against him, finally taking pity on him and breaking off the kiss so he could take an unfettered breath. *Oh God, T'Pol. Don't you Vulcans have any idea of foreplay?*

She smiled as her strong internal muscles began to stroke him. Watching his face intently as he gasped and shuddered. Satisfaction soaked into her every thought. *You would not survive foreplay*

He wanted to argue, but oh Christ this was so intense he could not form the words in his mind. She was right. He would not survive. Even now making love like this would probably kill him but he did not care. He loved her. Wanted her. Would die without her. With a flash he realised she felt the same. It burned him with joy. Elevated his senses as she worked him closer and closer to orgasm. He bit his lip. Then T'Pol paused and flooded his mind with such eroticism that he twitched deep inside her, all kinds of convoluted elements of understanding coalescing into the need for him to bring her to orgasm with him. He was not sure if the same actions would work on a Vulcan but her mind assured him it would. Smiling in mind and body he dropped his hands down, one gently massaging an ample breast while the other dipped into her hot centre to help her out. He felt her body arch into his touch, her mind moaning in his was driving him crazy. Her rocking hips trembled and kept the rythym slow. Together. She wanted them to come together.

Perspiring with effort he urged her slowly to reach her epogee. His feelings flooding her mind, saturating her senses with love. His caring heart such a beautfiul revelation to her. His gentleness more seductive than his strength. His pheromones re-writing her tolerance to odours. Merging with hers in a heat of slow passion that was immolating her with desires almost beyond her control. Yet she did control them. For him. She could have snapped his spine in half as they mated but she did not. Her grip on him inside her brought him dancing to the edge. So close now. He was so close. His fingers sped up in a slowly increasing spiral against her now sensitised nub, her hips bucking up against his hand to urge him to pick up his pace. He ignored her mute pleas, knowing the slower the build up the harder the release. He wanted to crash her shores, to have her explode and come so hard that she would never want another lover. Never take another soul to her heart but him. It was selfish but it was human. As she finally teetered on the edge she flexed her muscles hard against his rocking shaft and sent them both into orbit.

The hot plume of his white silk shot up inside her, her hips still riding him hard, his hips jerking erratically into her, trying to pump as deep and as hard inside her as he could. The biological imperative taking over in the heat of passion. She clung to him, urged him on harder and harder, rode the waves with him, and let her heart carry every dream into his soul and bless them both with a joy that swamped their senses and left them remade in each others' image. They had no words. Nothing but their conjoined bodies and senses. The Sanacrid flowed effortlessly through all the boundaries of Trip's mind. Took what it wanted, tied up his knowledge and expertise with the needs of his organism. Flushed with happy content into the human, savouring the erotic flow of their love making so that he could taste and savour something denied to his own species. There was something to be said for mating this intense. Trip and T'Pol were not aware of him. They had eyes only for each other. T'Pol was about to remove her hand but Trip raised his hand and held it in place. He liked the connection. The depth of intimacy it provided between them. He loved her so much. Craved for her constantly. His thoughts amused her. He watched fascinated as her lips twitched upward into a possessive smile. A smile of conquest.

*Ya think?*

*You are mine. I do not have to think. It is so*

*Give me a few minutes and I'll turn that fantasy on its' head, darlin'*

*You do not believe that you love me?*

*That's not what I said or meant and you know it. You are mine, baby, and that is a fact*

*I do believe you are in error, Commander*

His eyebrow rose and he said nothing.

*We belong to each other*

His smile lit her up. Heart, mind, body and soul. As she marvelled at their closeness he began to slowly rock beneath her. Her smile widened. Her interior muscles reaching for his flaccid organ now bobbing in the juices of their joint venture. Slowly she coaxed him back into an erection. Trapped so deliciously inside her hot moist walls he could do nothing but comply. The smile on his face and the glitter in his eyes promising that this time there would be foreplay.

* * * * *

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