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ROUND ROBIN #4: Silk and Subterfuge - 2Round Robin #4: Continuing to a new page to leave more room for comments. THUS Page 2 Beginning with Part 8 by Bether6074 Those participating in order *should* be: ************************************************************************************************ “I demand that these criminals be confined to your brig immediately!” The Rigellian representative shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Trip. The Orion turned to face Archer. “He makes a valid point, Captain. What if the thieves attempt to escape during our negotiations? They must be held accountable for their actions.” Archer gritted his teeth, smiled with forced politeness, and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to reassure you gentlemen that confinement to the brig won’t be necessary, but if you both insist that they must be confined…” He glanced at Trip apologetically and then continued. “…then it’s my belief that the best course of action here is simply to order Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed to remain in their quarters-- with an armed guard, of course-- until this matter has been settled. I give you my personal guarantee that neither of them will attempt to escape.” Archer looked at Trip meaningfully. “Isn’t that right, Commander Tucker?” Trip folded his arms and stared at the Captain, obviously displeased at the prospect of being under lock and key. Then he exhaled in resignation. “Yes, Cap’n,” he said, reluctantly. The Rigellian approached Archer with a disdainful expression. “And where exactly is this Lieutenant Reed you speak of, Captain Archer?” he demanded. Archer straightened his posture and stared confidently into the Rigellian’s eyes. “The Lieutenant is presently performing his duties under the careful watch of my first officer, Commander T’Pol. I will see to it that he is immediately confined to his quarters.” “Very well, Captain Archer. Remove your officer and we shall proceed with this discussion.” Archer nodded to the guards and watched thoughtfully as they led Trip away to his quarters.
Trip glanced up and found T’Pol standing before him, her face bearing a strangely eager expression. He furrowed his brow in confusion and gaped at her, not quite able to believe his eyes. Red triaxian silk hugged her body elegantly, sheathing her curves like a second layer of skin, leaving remarkably little to the imagination. Trip was left speechless, unable to stop himself from staring at her radiant flesh. His eyes widened as his gaze focused momentarily on her inadequately covered, firmly-rounded breasts. He swallowed hard, quickly averting his gaze upwards to her face. “What the hell?!” Trip stammered in befuddlement. “Do ya really think this is the best place to…I mean...the Rigellians…the Orions... system malfunctions…might not be the best time to…” T’Pol stepped forward, looking directly into his eyes, and placed a hand gently upon his chest. Trip stumbled backwards, his mouth hanging open, as the Vulcan began unzipping his uniform. The sounds of the bridge echoed distantly in the background, a monotonous drone that served to remind the engineer of his exact location. T’Pol removed her fingers from his zipper and pushed the fabric over Trip’s shoulders, caressing his skin alluringly. His heartbeat accelerated with growing excitement. He felt her hands massaging his muscles, caressing him softly when suddenly…she shoved him backwards. Dazed and yet intensely aroused, Trip landed with a soft thud directly onto the captain’s chair. “T’Pol…Don’t ya think maybe… someone might…notice us?” Trip managed, trying to catch his breath. “I mean I wasn’t really expectin’ ya to trade your uniform in for…” He stopped mid-sentence and peered up at the Vulcan, who now hung over the chair, staring at him lustfully. She directed her vision downward and traced the length of his body, her dark eyes wild with untamed desires. Trip sensed the yearning she felt to physically possess him and was overcome by a powerful urge to touch her. Without thinking, he reached out and grasped onto the satiny cloth, pulling T’Pol down into the chair with him. Instantly her mouth fastened hungrily to his. He parted his lips in response, cradling her face within both hands. He met her eager thrusting tongue with his own, savoring the sensations her surprisingly public display was evoking in him. Suddenly, T’Pol pulled away. She thrust her body into the human’s, purposefully forcing him back, and pinning his arms to the back of the chair. Her hands clutched his forearms tightly as she lay atop him, peering demandingly into his warm, permissive eyes. Through their bond, he felt a primitive need to sexually dominate him course through her blood. T’Pol leaned down, found Trip’s mouth and kissed him ravenously, lacing her fingers roughly through his hair. Trip reciprocated the kiss, feeling his arousal mount. He slid his hands down her back, gently smoothing the velvety creases of satin with a deft touch. His fingers fondled the firm curves of her buttocks and squeezed lightly, then forcefully pulled her down onto him. “Commander Tucker!! Commander T’Pol!!” a loud voice sounded out. The distracted couple startled and looked up, breaking their kiss. Trip swallowed hard and gaped bewilderedly around the room. The Captain glared at him with an unmistakable reproach. “Would you mind telling me exactly what the hell you think you’re doing?? This is a spaceship…not a damn hotel room!” the Captain scolded loudly. Trip’s mouth fell open. His face flushed with embarrassment. “Uhhh…sorry, sir…we were just…uhhh…we were…” “You were what, Commander Tucker? About to have sex with my Vulcan Science Officer on MY Bridge??” Trip’s eyes flew open. He jolted upright from the chair in a cold sweat and tried to discern where he was. You’re in your quarters, Dumbass. And the babysitters are still outside. Helluva time for a little nap…even if that dream was mighty… “Commander Tucker!” The door burst open and two guards stood facing the still-groggy engineer. “They’re ready for you in the conference room, sir. The Captain said to bring you immediately. He said our guests are getting impatient.” The guard showed Trip a pair of wrist restraints. “Begging the Commander’s pardon, sir,” he added apologetically. “…but I’m supposed to use these.” Trip sighed, rubbing a hand brusquely through his disheveled hair. Oh…crap!!
T'Pol walked briskly through the corridor on her way to the turbolift. She had just been about to look at Lieutenant Reed's findings when two of his Security men entered and asked to escort him to quarters as per the captain's instructions. T'Pol had continued the scans of the brooch on her own and was able to confirm what Lieutenant Reed had discovered. She needed to inform the captain as soon as possible, but the meeting with the Orions and the Rigelians had grown heated, according to his last communication. He had also requested her presence in the Observation Lounge. Perhaps she would be able to pull the captain away for a moment to discuss her findings, for they were quite troubling. As the turbolift doors opened she saw that it was already occupied by two MACOs and Trip, wearing shackles and a sullen expression. No doubt his mood was partly due to the interruption of the dream he was having earlier. She nodded to the three men, and turned to face the doors. Trip remained quiet in the presence of the MACOs, but she could sense that he would much rather be free to discuss certain matters with her. She briefly wondered if he was aware that he was not alone in his dream; that while working on the brooch she had thought of him and was momentarily transported into a very distracting situation on the bridge of the Enterprise. It only lasted a few moments, but she could still sense the remnants of his heightened emotions, intermingled with her own. She would have to do something about that if she didn't want such unexpected situations to interfere in times like these, however pleasant they are at the time. They entered the Observation Lounge, and while Trip took a seat, and the MACOs stood guard, T'Pol approached the captain and sat down. "Captain, we have made some progress in gathering the information you required," she said, in a relatively hushed tone. "We'll discuss that subject in a moment, but for now our guests have some questions they'd like to ask Commander Tucker." His tone was strained, and T'Pol guessed that he was reluctantly deferring to his visitors' wishes. Harrad-Sar spoke first, "Commander, I request that you return the item to us immediately." The Rigelian interrupted, "We are in Rigelian space. We have jurisdiction here." "He's stolen our property!" retorted Harrad-Sar. Trip stood up, indignant. "I didn't steal anything!" "Then how do you explain the item being traced aboard this ship?" the Rigelian asked. Harrad-Sar looked on, smugly. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. All I did was do some shopping while on the surface," Trip answered, his tone calmer. It was obvious to T'Pol that he was trying to control his anger. She caught his glance, and he sat back down slowly. "Purchasing stolen objects? Smuggling them for some purpose, perhaps?" the Rigelian countered. "No." "Then what were you doing, if not engaging in these criminal activities?" "I was buying a gift." "You were buying an artifact that holds much meaning for my people!" Harrad-Sar practically shouted. The Rigelian looked at him with what looked like exasperation to T'Pol. He turned back to Trip. "Commander, what did you purchase on the surface, and from what shop?" Trip turned a little pink and answered, "I bought some silk at a fabric shop." The Rigelian laughed . "Silk? For what purpose?" Trip sighed audibly. "I bought the silk for – a friend." His eyes glanced to the side, first to the captain and then to T'Pol. "Really? If you will forgive me, Commander, you seem a bit ill at ease. Is there anything else you'd like to share with us?" "He answered your questions," Archer said, with some finality to his tone. "I'm telling you the truth," Trip continued. "You are telling everything but the truth," Harrad-Sar said, his voice low and menacing. Trip slammed his shackled hands on the table, startling the others in the room. "Listen, I'm telling you what happened! Maybe you can explain why there were a couple of Orions at the very shop I visited?" Harrad-Sar stood up abruptly, towering over everyone in the room. “Are you making an accusation, Commander?” he asked, his voice deep and just above a whisper. The MACOs pulled out their weapons. Archer spoke, standing up as well, his hands making a placating gesture. "Why don't we take a break, and let tempers settle down a bit? Maybe meeting up in the morning might be a good idea." To T'Pol's surprise, Harrad-Sar agreed without any hesitation. "We will remain docked with your ship, Captain. Do not plan on making an escape." "I wouldn't dream of it," Archer answered, with what appeared to be a forced smile. *** A small entourage escorted Trip back to his quarters. Trip walked into his quarters, followed closely by T'Pol, and Archer. He heard Archer order the MACOs to wait outside, then heard the doors slide shut. Trip sighed and turned around. "Trip, I'd appreciate it if you held back your temper. It's making you look guilty," Archer said, gently. "Guilty of what? This whole thing smells fishy, Cap'n. We all know it," Trip answered. "There was a pair of Orions at the shop we visited. That can't be a coincidence!" "You may be right. I have found some evidence that possibly supports foul play, or that we have come across something much more serious than a stolen piece of jewelry," T'Pol said. "Go on," said Archer. "We analyzed the brooch and discovered that there is a small data carrying device inside." "What kind of data is it carrying?" "I have not removed the device, and so have not been able to attempt reading its contents. I believe removing it would damage the brooch, and reveal that we have been tampering with it. What I find troubling is that the technology that the device is made of is consistent with Vulcan technology." "What are you saying?" Trip asked. "I'm saying that not everything is as it appears to be." *****************************************************
He turned abruptly. “T’Pol, find out what’s on that device, I don’t care what you have to do. I want to know what’s got the Orions and Rigellians so interested in Vulcan technology.” T’Pol nodded slowly and made a small pivot to position herself out of Archer’s path to the door. Her face was expressionless but as Jonathan looked from hers to Trip’s, he realized that was his cue. Trip’s hands remained in restraints as Archer moved to the door. “Uh, Cap’n,” Trip nodded and lifted his hands as the Captain turned. “Oh, of course,” Archer chuckled. “I almost forgot,” he smiled briefly as he unlatched the restraining bold and depolarized the locking mechanism with a secure keycode. “Commanders,” he turned and moved towards the door. His hand stopped against the panel as he turned. “I don’t want to confine you to quarters Trip, but we should keep up appearances that you’re under guard,” his eyes fell to the floor as he grimaced in doubt. “I want you to take a couple of days off, until we get this thing sorted out.” Trip nodded, glancing briefly in T’Pol’s direction. Archer nodded and activated the door panel, disappearing down the corridor. As the door shut, T’Pol’s silence and stillness broke like clockwork as her features relaxed and the clasp of her hands broke. They came to her sides as she moved almost imperceptibly closer to Commander Tucker. Trip moved quicker, no hesitation in his fingers as they traveled reverently up the sides of her skin-tight uniform. Neither spoke while they silently inched closer, Tucker’s touch electrifying the skin beneath her uniform. His eyes followed his fingers’ path, slower and with equal penitence, absorbing and appreciating her every feature. Her lips flinched and she released herself into his magnetic presence, allowing his chest to rest against hers as she gazed into his deep blue eyes. His lips hovered a hair’s breadth above hers, pleading to close the gap. “You should rest,” she pleaded hoarsely. The voice came out of her absently, and Trip lifted a challenging eyebrow as his grip closed around her hips softly. She returned his challenging gaze with more intensity and straightened herself against his embrace. “I should resume my analysis of the brooch, it would be unfortunate if you found yourself in a Rigellian cell this time tomorrow evening,” T’Pol contested softly. The smirk melted from the Commander’s lips as he thoughtfully took her in. “Maybe… but maybe it doesn’t hafta’ be right away,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers. His fingers slowly sank further into the curves that wrapped their delicious lengths about her hips into the small of her back. The Vulcan’s breathing quickened in response and she swallowed hard. Her hands moved in an instant to his face, roughly stroking over his unshaven stubble as she replied in a sultry but even Vulcan voice. “Perhaps not,” she replied in hidden contentment. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Reed lie quietly in his bunk, the stars sitting motionless outside his cabin as the plasma lamp on the desk threw a stale gray hue across the room. A copy of Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War sat propped upon his chest. An unexpected and partially unwelcome chime echoed across his cabin just as the book piqued his admittedly dry historic interest. Just as Thucydides began comparing the Melian Incident to Pericles’ Funeral Oration to the fallen soldiers of Athens, he set the book aside. When he activated the door panel, a medium height crewman he did not recognize stood before him. Malcolm looked inquiringly at the man who looked to be about thirty, roughly his build with slicked brown hair and empty blue eyes. Suddenly he realized the MACO standing guard was missing as he leaned through the doorway and glanced about the empty corridor. The young man remained silent, hands clasped at his back at attention. “Crewman?” Malcolm inquired. When addressed the young man loosened up and met the Lieutenant’s gaze. “Would you be interested in a movie, Mr. Reed?” Malcolm gaped in total confusion and blinked absently. Lowering his voice, the crewman continued as he leaned in closer. “Perhaps the cinema of Kalos V,” the man lifted an eyebrow. Suddenly Malcolm knew why he didn’t recognize the young man, he was no crewman of Enterprise! The young man’s face grew impatient as he cleared his throat. “ … Mr. Harris sends his invitation.” Malcolm’s head shot up from his gaze into the deckplating as he realized just what the hell was going on. He nodded succinctly at the young man who breathed a slight sigh of relief before stepping aside and moving quickly down the corridor. Lieutenant Malcolm Reed followed apace, nervously glancing about the intersections of the corridor. He was breaking the Captain’s orders to stay in his quarters, more than that he was again about to take counsel with the man in whose employ he did not relish finding himself. The two men quickly entered the transporter room. After a moment of surprise, Malcolm realized that this was their preferred method of transportation. Simple deletion of system logs and no one would be the wiser. Hell, Section 31 had possessed a working model before Starfleet, he queasily recalled. He silently mounted the pad and disappeared… As did the mysterious young “crewman”. Stepping away from the console, he vanished around the corner.
“You okay, T’Pol?” He asked as he leaned up on one arm. “I’m fine.” A cooler response than normal, even for a female Vulcan; he knew something was wrong. “Look, T’Pol, I knowthat wasn’t my best work,” he began. “It was adequate.” “Adequate? Jeez, T’Pol, you really know how to hurt a guy.” If she turned around, she would see that he was not upset, but was actually smirking. “That was not my intention; I apologize.” “T’Pol” Trip rose from the bunk and came towards her. She continued to stand with her back to him. “I must return to work now.” “T’Pol, wait.” He put his hand on her shoulder and she continued to look at the floor. He leaned in and spoke gently in her ear. “Hey, this bond thing goes both ways, remember? I know somethin’s botherin’ you and it’s not about the brooch. I didn’t sense it until we were...” he lightly kissed her earlobe, then the side of her neck. “If you’re… disappointed...” She turned to face him. “I believe it is you, who is disappointed.” She looked into his eyes to confirm her suspicion. His eyes registered surprise at her accusation. Then he admitted, “Well, yeah, I’m disappointed, but not in you and never about this,” he pointed back and forth between the two of them. He hung his head and continued, “I’m disappointed in myself. I screwed-up yet another visit to an alien world.” He turned and went back to sit on his bunk. Putting his head in his hands, he continued, “I try to do somethin’ nice for my girlfriend and Malcolm and I wind-up confined to our quarters, while you and the Capt' are left to clean-up the mess. Damn! What is it with me? Am I cursed or somethin'?” “Curses are illogical.” “Gee, thanks, that’s no help at all.” She came and sat beside him. “While I will admit that the probability of so many unusual incidents occurring, involving alien encounters with a particular crewman, are highly unlikely…” she began. He looked up at her as she continued; “the Captain has repeatedly asked me to keep an open mind where humans are concerned.” He had to smile. Was she making another attempt at a joke or was she sincerely trying to console him? “Therefore, the only logical conclusion is that you represent an aberration from the norm.” She was sincerely trying to console him, the only way she knew how. He nodded. “An aberration from the norm… huh. Well, Grandpa always said when they made me, they broke the mold - with good reason.” He winked; then lightly kissed her cheek. “You’re gettin’ to be quite the sweet-talker, Darlin’.” He took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Thank you, I mean it.” Trip continued, “Now you’re sure you’re not disappointed ‘bout… anything?” She rose, responding, “Perhaps you sensed a reflection of your own feelings through the bond.” Trip cocked his head in such a way that showed he didn’t accept that explanation. T’Pol continued, “If you truly sensed disappointment from me, it would be in myself for not solving this mystery more quickly; thereby releasing you and Lieutenant Reed from your confinement. However, for a Vulcan, that is highly unlikely.” "But not unlike a certain Vulcan I know," he teased. "While you're analyzing that brooch in the Armory, I'm gonna' do a little research of my own here." He nodded toward the computer while reaching for his uniform. She walked to his door. Without turning around, she hit the release button saying, “I will expect a more focused rendezvous this evening.” “You got it, Darlin!” = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Malcolm materialized facing an extremely bright light. As he tried to shade his eyes, a voice from behind the light, spoke, “Mr. Reed, I presume.” “And you are?” He was surprised that it was definitely not Harris’ voice. “A colleague… of sorts.” “The sort to meet in abject secrecy, I get it. Do you think you could turn off that bloody light?” “Patience, Malcolm. I need to know I can trust you before revealing my identity.” Crossing his arms over his chest and looking upward, Malcolm responded, “This cloak and dagger routine will hardly win my trust. Show yourself, or return me to Enterprise.” “If you insist… Skipper.” Malcolm looked back at the light. He hadn’t heard that nickname since his grandfather, Gilbert Malcolm Reed, had died, almost 18 years ago. The bright light went off and Malcolm was left with big purple spots in his vision. After several seconds, the spots cleared and soft light came up in the room to reveal….
Now, Malcolm Reed generally saw himself as a rather competent man under pressure, easily adapting to changes and new circumstances in a fight. It was part of the job; it was a part of him. Rarely was there a time in his professional life where he was at an utter and complete loss for what to do. His personal life was…another story, however. But, Malcolm Reed had always done his very best to keep his personal life as far away from his professional life as possible. In fact, he keeps all that is personal in a tiny little cookie tin, tied up with string, on the top shelf of the spare closet of his mind. Which he then locks, puts a chair in front of, and nails shut, just for good measure. However, our poor, emotionally detached Mr. Reed now watched helplessly, as his personal and private lives come crashing together, in the most bloodily absurd fashion he could never have imagined. “……MADDY?!” Madeline Reed grinned at her brother like a madwoman. Her hair was a different colour again. Last he had seen, she was a blond, now her hair was a deep nut brown, closer to what he thought was her natural colour. There was a manic glint to her eye that wasn’t there before, and she nearly shook with unexpended energy. She had apparently decided to take this whole covert secret meeting quite dramatically, and was wearing entirely formfitting black clothing, and high black boots. The effect was rather ruined though, by the bright yellow rain slicker she wore over it. She looked like a mad, British ninja about to go deep-sea fishing. “Hey, Skipper,” her voice distorted, deepened, masculine. She continued to give the Cheshire cat a good run for his money, as she reached up, and pulled what looked like a band-aid off her throat. “It’s a vocal reconstructer,” she said, positively bouncing up and down with manic glee, “It can make you sound like … anybody, didn’t I sound just like Poppy, bet that gave you a bit of a scare, din’nit? Din’nit?” she asked, while poking her brother repeatedly in the stomach, laughing her mad, gasping laugh. “Din’nit, din’nit, din’nit?” “Hey, Hey STOP it! Dammit Madaline!” Reed exclaimed, slapping her hands away. He hated the way Madeline could make him feel ten years old all over again, and this was not the time. Reed took a deep breath. His sister could be quite difficult at times. She was known to have wild mood swings, and fits of recalcitrance. “Maddy, dear, just what are you doing here,” he said very slowly, through a clenched jaw. “…and why am I here? Why are you working for who I think you are working for, and just what the bloody hell is going on?” “Are you cross with me, Mally?” Madeline asked, worry creeping into her voice. “No…well, maybe. Please, just tell me what is going on, and I’ll let you know if I’m cross with you or not.” “Okay, well, I’m not working for your little secret agency. Well, not anymore, I used to, but not for a while, but they don’t know that, and don’t you go telling them, and HEY!” she yelled, as her face tensed up in indignation, and her hand smacked his side. “How come you never told me you were working for them?” “Well, how come you didn’t?” “You were working for them first!” “THAT’S NOT … would you please just tell me what you’re doing here? The Enterprise is involved in some delicate and intense negotiations with the Orions and Rigellians, myself and Commander Tucker are under lock and key for the high crime of buying some silk for his girlfriend, my little sister has apparently been involved in a life of espionage and subterfuge, and at any moment the Enterprise might be blown up and I’d hate to miss that, so would you please just …” “OH, that’s why I’m here!” Madeline suddenly exclaimed, clapping her small hands together. “The Orions!” “What about them?” Reed asked, trying to gain back some of his professionalism. “They want to blow you up.” Reed took a deep breath. Nope, that was not enough. He took another. “I. Know. That. Maddy. I want to know why … and how?” “Why? Well, they don’t like you, but you knew that already. How…..ummmm…wait, I have it written down here somewhere….” Reed took another deep breath. T’Pol made her way towards the armory, intent to continue her work discerning just what information that brooch contained. Her previous attempts to decipher the hidden data inside the brooch had met with…limited success, but she was determined to learn its stubbornly held secrets. Her mate was at stake after all. That brooch didn’t stand a chance. She kept her mind open to her mate as she made her way through the deserted halls. Not quite enough to read his mind like a book, but just enough for a constant drone of Trip in the back of her head. He was having many thoughts at once, about the Orions, the brooch, going over his purchase in the silk shop, but the most invasive of these thoughts was of her, in a most…intimate manner. That made her, simultaneously, both annoyed, for they just had a sexual encounter, his sexual needs should be sated, but also…. rather pleased, though she would never dare admit it to anyone. She arrived at the armory door, just as Trip’s thoughts were beginning to shift to food (though at the moment, they were a rather curious combination of his desire for food and her). As she stepped through the doorway, she put Trip, and his active imagination, to the far back of her mind. She would need all her focus in order to tackle the brooch. T’Pol smelled the Orions, long before she saw them. ************************************************************ In his quarters, half-dressed and busy having a rather inventive little fantasy involving T’Pol and a variety of fruits and syrups, Trip Tucker suddenly bent over in pain.
Continue to Part 3 (Starting with #13: Myst) Return to the Beginning of Part 1 Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS! A whole mess of folks have made commentsHeh! Poor Trip. The man never gets any breaks... Good job. Even in a crisis... look where the man's mind is, LOL! Nice little interlude. Kinda satisfies the need for a little hot TnT interaction. I was thinking we'd have to wait until the end of this story for some, which might be next fall at the rate we've been going lately. :) This is great! Hot little dream there. LOL Very nice... can't wait for more. :-) Who's up next? LOL! Great dream sequence...maybe T'Pol's been doing a little day dreaming of her own... ;) Misplaced, hehe. didnt have a long wait, now did i? kinda confused here though....dream through bond? just a dream? if so what hell is archer doing there interfering with trip getting action? :) Whoa! For a minute there I thought you were going to take us beyond PG-13, Bether!! Good job. I can't wait to see what comes next! Boushh is up next, then John O, Tripsmyguy and Persianmouse. Then it starts all over again for the second half of the story. Glad you all like it. I really think its going well. What do you mean, Miss EJ? Archer's doing what he always does! :D Again, great job, people. I'm really enjoying this... Great stuff, guys! Can't wait for more! :) I was confused - I thought they were really fuckin on the bridge and someone just left an open italics tag! LOL Got my head outta the gutter ;) ^^LOL John, you are the gutter king. ;) I really enjoyed this segment. When I first read it, I didn't know it was a dream and I was like, no way can they be doing this on the Bridge, but then read that it was all just a dream and was like, ah ha! Great stuf Brether! Great update Boushh! I love where this is going...great job! Silk and Subterfuge indeed...lol! Good development in the intrigue, nice to see T'Pol thinking the dreams are pleasant. But RIGHT MARGINS!!! Zipping back and forth across the page is very distracting. Excellent update! See now, that wasn't so bad, was it? :-) Vulcan technology... the plot thickens... OT: Why is the page all stretched out? > Why is this page all stretched out? There is some HTML badness on the page. I'll send Bucky a quick note showing the problem and recommend a fix. Sweet. Good job. Poor, poor Trip... This is really coming along! Great segment, Boushh. Can't wait to see what you do next, John O! More... more! I want some more! Nicely done, and poor Trip never can catch a break, can he? :) woo what a cliffhanger! Marvelous job, Boushh! Good lead-in to actually finding out what the "Subterfuge" is all about. "Vulcan Technology", eh? Curiouser and curiouser. Give us a good techno-espionage chappie, John O.! Faboo job, boushh! Knew you had it in you. I liked the various confrontations and how you handled them. Big thumbs up! Thanks for the feedback guys. :) I'm relieved. LOL. :) I loved your chappie Boushh, now get mine up Bucky! >=D *pointy stick* Ohhhhhhhhhh -- sexy with intrigue! Great combo JohnO! 'Bout time TnT got some alone time LOL! ;) Ahh, Mr. Harris. He seems to show up a lot these days, doesn't he? Not that I'm complaining, he's usually pretty good! Can't wait for the next update! :) Oooh! LOVE the TnT scene. All that smouldering passion really wakes a girl up in the morning... and now we have Harris in the mix. Let's see... a brooch with some sort of device in it, Orions, Rigellians, and Section 31. My head is swimming. Somebody connect all this for me before my next turn so I don't have to figure it out... Please? ;) Good job, John. Loved the M:I reference there. And is it bad that I recall reading "History of the Peloponnesian War"? This is great fun... LOL - well hopefully what I said about it made sense then because in all honestly, I own a copy but I haven't read it yet, so I just skimmed it and read some notes on the text online to see what commentary says about it, to figure out something Malcolm could be reading specifically ;) I was HOPING somebody would get the M:I reference! :D Okay... explain to us M:I deficient people exactly what you guys are talking about, please. When an agent approaches Ethan Hunt in Mission Impossible with a mission, it's like the code phrase... in the recent movie it was a flight attendant and she asked, "Would you care to watch a movie Mr. Hunt" and he was out of the IMF right, so he's like "Hm, oh no thank you" and then she goes "Are you sure, perhaps you'd like to sample the Cinema of the Caribbean..." and that was the key phrase.... meaning it had something to do with his mission. He looks up at her, recognizing the phrase and she continues, "Aruba, perhaps?" And then the MI music starts and the movie ended >=D (i'm pretty sure this code phrase was a common MI thing from back of the days of the tv show) Ah... makes sense now, thanks. Ooooo! Section 31. The plot thickens. Excellent, and steamy update! At least it appears that our favorite couple will finally get some... quiet... time. >:D Good job, Tripsmyguy! Loved the conversation between TnT! LOL nice cliffy for persionmouse... Not sure about the 'dissapointed' convo tho' that girl is just never satisfied! A mid-sentence cliffhanger? TMG, how could you? It's so EEEVIL! I like it. The odds are about nil to negative zilch. :-D COURAGE Persianmouse, you can do it!!! Sorry guys, but being a gal... how the hell would I know??? Sorry guys, but being a gal... how the hell would I know??? Don't worry about it, TMG... I was just teasin'. Maybe he WAS payin' attention and got a little... um... over-eager shall we say? A man without stayin' power would sorta bum me out... and I'm sure if Trip got worried enough it MIGHT happen... nobody's perfect y'know, LOL! Hey, Persianmouse: no pressure. ;) That was a nice chappie, can't wait to see what ya'll will come up with next! :) And the plot thickens! ROFL!!! I can't wait to see what persianmouse does with this. I loved this line: “I will expect a more focused rendezvous this evening.” As a married woman with a husband that is very... focused... I do know that there are times when he can be worried enough to not... perform at his usual level (as rare as they are), so it seemed believable enough to me. ;-) Thank you Misplaced!!! Good one, with a woman like JB I would never loose attention. Looking forward to read more. Persianmouse, you're a genius!! I NEVER would have thought to make it Madeleine. Wow!!! This is excellent! Good stuff, guys, cannot WAIT to see what's going on! :) That was freakin' hilarious... the part with Malcolm and his sister! ROFLMAO! I can't wait to see what Ludjin comes up with next! Good job, PMouse! Funny...and I LOVE the inner thoughts of T'Pol. I cannot wait to see where Ludjin is going to go from here... I have a new favorite original character... Maddy Reed. She's a kick! This one was so much fun... "a fantasy involving T'Pol and a variety of fruits and syrups"... LOL! Great job persianmouse love the Reeds. And food+sex=confused T'Pol lol LOL! I loved the inner workings of Malcolm's mind...what a hoot! Great update...your sense of humour always makes me laugh...:"he keeps all that is personal in a tiny little cookie tin, tied up with string, on the top shelf of the spare closet of his mind. Which he then locks, puts a chair in front of, and nails shut, just for good measure." ROTFLMAO ^^I loved that too. PM, I love your sense of humor. It was so much fun to read this. Great Job!! Oh man that Malcolm scene was just plain hilarious, it reminded me of the time in BSG in "Tigh Me Up, Tigh Me Down" when everyone was super serious like they always are on BSG and then all of the sudden all hell broke loose in Baltar's lab and Tigh, Ellen, the Pres, Baltar and Adama were all tripping over their words talking about how they had went behind each other's backs....it was downright hilarious, just like Malcolm going to a secret section 31 rendezvous and running into his sister, hahahahaha, I gotta give it to you PM, I never even IMAGINED that! ;P Just adding my two cents here as well. This was a brilliantly funny installment. Great job, Persianmouse! :) VERY inventive! Loved Madeline and the humour just skipped along but come on guys!!! What's ROTLFMAO???............. OMG, Persianmouse, that was a hoot! And you are EEEEVIL to poor Ludjin, making her follow up that last line. LOL! I can't wait to see what comes next. Oh, and Hoppity - that's internet for Rolling On The Floor Laughing My Ass Off! Thanks TJinLOCA!!! Thanks everybody, for the nice words. I can't wait until I get to write the last chapter. *Insert evil laugh here* |