Unbound-Part 21

Unbound
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://carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "T'Pol wants to complete the bonding process with Trip. Unbeknownst to the Commander there are still a few unexpected shocks in store."
DISCLAIMER: The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' are the property of Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part 21

"CONUNDRUM"

* * * * *

It was weird. Space was not acting like space. The area around the ship flexing and shrinking pock marking the area around them with invisible dents and holes. Sub-Commander T'Pol found the Commander staring out of the observation window, the streaking stars only vaguely taken in as his mind drifted and spun. A cascade of thoughts jockeying for position in a mind numbed by too much information. So he let it drift, using the technique to allow thoughts and ideas to break up and fragment so that he could then see them more clearly in their component parts. Slowly, methodically, putting the pieces together.

T'Pol did not interrupt his stream of consciousness, her presence lapping the outer edges of his consciousness like a calming sea. As he progressed so she allowed more of her presence to soak through to his consciousness, her mind seeping into his so seamlessly that it was some minutes before he realised that he was no longer alone in more than the physical sense. He did not turn his head. There was no need when his every breath was filled with her. The agony of knowledge did not impart an easy wisdom. "Why did he have to die, T'Pol?"

She closed the distance, standing just behind him, and chose to answer mind to mind. No need now to use the pulse points though her hand on his shoulder made contact easier, quicker. < All mortals die, Ash yam. >

< He was my friend. >

< He is still your friend. >

Silence. Confusion. < How can there be friendship when the friend no longer exists? >

She felt his tears as if they were her own. T'Pol stepped round him, needing to see his face. To drink in the sorrow in his eyes, to merge her being with his in a blinding need to comfort and make him whole again for only if he was whole could she be complete. < You do not know everything. >

He blinked. Drowning in her deep eyes. T'Pol touched his cheek, the tears glittering on her fingertips as they caught the light. They were alone, sharing an intimacy beyond physical joining yet with the urge to vanquish all manner of distance that lay between them. Physical as well as mental. She stroked his cheek, her eyes locked on his. Her mind stirring in his and giving him a lifeline to cling to. < Come, Ashayam >

< To your quarters. >

He just looked at her for a moment. < Mine not yours? >

< Until we have our own. >

He was not sure he had understood her correctly. Was about to query it when her lips brushed softly against his and all the air puffed out of his lungs with a sigh of homecoming. Gently she deepened the kiss. He was lost. Found. No longer drifting. His sorrow swept away on wings that carried him so gently, so lovingly, beyond the threshold of pain to touch that which was divine.

< Come. >

It never occurred to him to question her. His body was hers to command. His heart already beating in her breast only its' echo left to keep the blood pumping in his veins. He did not know how he got to his quarters but it seemed so natural. Her need now building slowly in him. A passion that fired every cell in his body with the need to imprint himself on her and her on him. Minds reached as hands moved in a slow and sinuous ballet of movements divesting each other of confining clothes, the warm hush of hands on bare skin warming the undulating landscape of bodies in motion. She leaned in to kiss him, his head dipping down so his lips could meet hers, her hands outlining him as her mind drank him in. An overwhelming need to make love to her flooded his senses, the blood pounding like jungle drums in his ears, every atom of his being straining to the joy of her touch. The passion of her mind flaring and setting off physical desires in him that made him so horny he began to tremble with the urgency of his need.

Her lips pulled away from his as she kissed and licked her way down the column of his throat, his hands dancing over her cooling skin and making her shudder with lust. He wanted to guide her to the bed but she remained where she was, standing in the middle of the room, the liquid pool of her eyes darkening as she dropped slowly to her knees. Her hand caressing him so gently drawing a moan of pleasure and desire from his lips, her mouth finding him moist, pearls of jism beading his crown as she inhaled his scent and warmed the head with her languid tongue. His moan deepened, a hand stroking gently through her short hair, the other stroking her neck. His eyes were closed now, trying to keep control as long as possible. Let her do to him whatever she wanted, however she chose. He was hers and nothing in creation would change that.

All his senses were heightened. He felt the soft rub of her lapping tongue, the taste buds savouring him as the crown leaked. A hand sliding down to cup his root then slowly massage him and tease more milk white tears to gently flood her lapping tongue. Slowly she worked him, letting her pleasure swamp his mind so that his lust and hers egged each other on in a rising passion that drew exquisite fire through his loins and made him throb hard with the heat of his aching need for her. He bit his lip to ground himself, to slow down but it was so hard. T'Pol mouthed him gently, still licking and now sucking, her hand on him dropping to tease his balls, rolling them gently in her hand. His mouth dropped open, a groan leaking out as his hips jerked into her mouth causing her teeth to catch on him. Mentally she hushed his agonised moan. < Control, Ashayam >

< T'Pol, I'm dyin' here... >

< Trust me, Trip. >

< I do darlin' but I want so bad to be inside ya. >

< You will, Ashayam, but first I will show you levels of passion that will rewrite your understanding of the emotions that join a man and a woman. >

If he wasn't so close to coming he would have laughed, but everything ached with need. He thought he was going to ejaculate any second now, wanted to warn her, but before he could she slid her hand up his shaft and pressed under the head causing him to soften. A growl of deep frustration escaped trembling lips. T'Pol hid a smile and continued the sweet torment, stringing him out until he thought his knees were going to buckle. < You're a cruel woman, T'Pol. >

< Sssh, concentrate and open your mind. >

< It is open. >

< More, I want more. >

His breath huffed with what she was doing to him, her touch driving him crazy, the lap of her thoughts against his almost as erotic as her physical touch. Trying to give her whatever she wanted he laid himself bare, T'Pol gently urging and showing him how to go deeper, higher, the sensations building between them becoming more and more intense until he was almost crying with the need to come, to orgasm. Still she kept him dancing on the edge, bringing him to the brink, sucking down his juices then drawing him back. So many times that he thought she would suck him sore but she did not. She knew just how much he could handle and stopped short of killing him outright. In her mind he was almost weeping for her but it was so beautiful, so heart stoppingly sweet that he hung on with every shred of control that was left to him. Then with a sudden change in her touch, the urgent demand of her mouth, he came in a bright dizzying flash of heat, his spine snapping with a jolt like an electrical current zipping through him as he erupted in a white flood down her throat.

Her mouth pumped him, her hands guiding him, her thoughts catching him as he teetered on the brink of blacking out. Her strength upheld him, his need for her embracing every thought they shared. Slowly they sank to the floor, her arms cradling him as his knees hit the carpet. Her mouth lapping round his spent cock and then licking him making his over sensitised organ twitch against the rhythm of her tongue. < T'Pol... >

She did not stop and further thoughts were beyond him. Impossibly he could feel himself start to harden in her busy mouth. How the hell had she managed that? He did not have any strength left yet she coaxed him and teased him until he was again filling her mouth, the blood engorging spent tissue and giving him new life. He gasped as her teeth caught deliberately underneath his cap, her tongue teasing the salty slit, her right hand now sliding under him and stroking between his cheeks. Then her mouth drew back and gently pushed him on to his back. He needed no further coaxing, physically tired but already starting to get his second wind. T'Pol smiled down at him with her eyes and as he stared at her in open eyed wonder and adoration she slowly sat down on his erection and impaled herself on him. A stuttered cry of shock and pleasure tore from his lips.

< Oh God, T'Pol... >

Then she was rocking and sliding up and down him, her strong interior muscles flexing around him so tightly that he could not take a full breath. His gasps fragmented shudders of passion, his eyes fluttering as he tried to steady the rhythm of his heart and keep pace with her. Once found, the rhythm became more frantic. Trip caught a heavy breast in his mouth and tongued the nipple, drawing it between his teeth and worrying it into a hard pyramid of desire that had T'Pol groaning. She speeded up and he almost lost his concentration, then they were flying, his hands on her hips raising her up and down his shaft as he rocked his hips up to meet downward thrusts. Their cries conjoining as their bodies drew closer and closer to coitus. He was so close now, how close was she? Her mind was flooding him with impossible images almost pushing him over the edge but he wanted her with him. He slid a hand between them and began to rub against her bundle of nerves, her body shaking against the rhythm of his hand bringing her to the edge with him. Shuddering hard and screaming into her mouth as he came she shook as he stilled momentarily and they burst into orgasm together. It was so intense he blacked out for a second. T'Pol's arms tightening slightly around him, her internal muscles gripping him so hard his penis could not soften.

As he came to he moaned. T'Pol stroked his sweat soaked hair and kissed the closed lids of his eyes. He was exhausted but she was not. Glistening with perspiration she glided against him. He did not have the energy to open his eyes. T'Pol's thoughts touched his, allowing him to recover slowly while massaging him with her interior muscles.

< Darlin' I can't... I'm spent T'Pol. Don't think I can do that again for a while. >

< Then sleep, Ashayam. >

He wanted to, so desperately, yet she was beginning to ride him again and once more he could feel himself reacting. He was hard enough to bore through solid rock only now it was getting painful. < T'Pol... >

She knew but passion ruled her. They were bonding and the Vulcan imperative, the drive, the over riding need to be one, controlled everything. She did not want to hurt him. Vulcan mating practices could be very intense, especially when the two parties were so emotionally close. < I cannot stop, Ashayam. The bond is deepening, growing stronger, I cannot resist it or you. >

It took him a full minute to form another coherent thought. It staggered in his mind until she caught it. < Bond? >

< Yes, Trip. When we are finished we will be fully bonded. > She did not confess the reason for her haste.

< I thought we already were? >

< Mentally yes. > T'Pol broke off to gasp as her movements became more erratic, her excitement causing her to shove herself harder and harder down on him as he struggled to keep up with her. < Relax Ashayam. >

< You ever tried to do that when someone's fuckin' ya into a coma? >

He could feel her laughter in his mind. God, he had not thought a woman's laugh could be so sexy. All the while she was riding him hard yet drawing out each thrust, her muscles gripping him so tight he could hardly breathe yet he would cut off his arms and legs before he would tell her to stop. If he had to die he wanted to go just like this. But oh God in Heaven, let it be *after* they finished. More laughter, gentle thoughts stroking through his mind as she encouraged the blood to throb like a military tattoo, his balls tightening. He froze and held his breath; she clung to him then plunged him over the edge. Hardly any ejaculate exploded from him. It was more a sudden release of pressure oiled by her orgasm as she flooded round him. T'Pol clung to him, their bodies sliding against each other. As she finished coming he passed out with exhaustion. It took her a couple of minutes to catch her breath, her mind touching his tenderly. Celebrating the intensity of their joining and knowing that nothing now could ever break the bond.

With a tiny sigh T'Pol eased off him, releasing him so he could soften and recover in sleep. She kissed his face, her lips covering him. She paused and looked down at his beautiful face, loving the way he shone in the aftermath of mating. Tracing his features with her fingertips, her tender regard memorising him as she trailed her tongue and lips slowly over his face and neck, savouring the taste of him before sleep too would claim her. He was her Ashayam and for the first time in her life she was fully and totally content. Too soon they would have to turn their thoughts to the task ahead of them. Fortified they would better stand a chance of surviving what was to come. But T'Pol wanted more than to simply survive. She kissed his ear, slowly licking the shell and sliding her tongue down the ear canal, huffing a warm breath to stir against his eardrum. In his sleep he shuddered and she settled down to suck his earlobe and cradle him as he slept. Soon she would join him but as she waited for the passion to abate so she could do so she caressed and kissed him, her hands warming him as he cooled. Her body draping over his in love and protection.

Her eyes grew heavy. Her mind delirious with joy. Stifling a yawn she laid her head on his chest, tilted it so that her ear lay over his heart. Hugged him to her with an emotion so deep tears pricked her eyes. So happy. So possessive of him. She could not fail. For if she did she would not only lose the war she would lose him and that was no option at all.

* * * * *

It was dark and so totally lacking in sensation that he spent the longest time wondering whether or not he was dead. It seemed to take a great deal of effort for him to make the leap in logic that mocked his assumption. If he were dead he would not know it for he would know no more ergo he was not dead. That left the question of where he was and what the hell was going on. Nothing. No light. No sound. No heat. No sense of touch, of up or down, not even motion. He felt as if he were suspended, locked in a form of sensory deprivation that was so absolute he had no notion of how he would break free of it. Yet he could not rouse himself enough to apprehend any fear. He knew he should be concerned but did not know why.

* * * * *

Lt. Reed could not stop sneaking a glance at the Commander. The man seemed to find everything too much effort. Walking in a straight line had become an Olympic event and whenever the Armoury Officer asked him if he was alright Trip simply muttered that he was just a little tired. Tired? If the comatose could get up and walk they would look a lot like the Commander right now. What was wrong with him? "Commander, you are dead on your feet. If you are not sleeping I suggest you speak to Dr Phlox."

"I'm all right, Malcolm. Don't fuss."

Lt. Reed raised his eyebrows. "Fuss? Commander you are falling over your feet in an effort to simply stay upright." He did not ask if Trip had been having nightmares again, knowing only too well how volatile his friend could become whenever the matter of his sister was raised even inadvertently. To say he was touchy was putting it mildly. So Malcolm did not to press too hard though he could not keep the worry out of his eyes or his voice. Fortunately, Trip was too out of it to notice. Malcolm's eyes narrowed.

They were heading for Engineering, a destination that Malcolm wanted to steer Trip clear off. At least until he was confident his friend would not blow himself up or fall asleep in a Jeffries tube. Trip suddenly stopped in his tracks and raised his head, deliberately looking the Armoury Officer in the eye. "Ya don't have to baby sit me, Malcolm."

"Who says that's what I'm doing?"

"I'm tired not stupid."

A partial smile quirked the corner of the Lieutenant's mouth. "A little difficult to tell the difference right now, Commander."

"Very funny. Ya know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"And the highest form of intelligence." Malcolm added.

Trip tried to glare at him but did not have the energy to invest any real menace into it. He sighed and leant on the wall. "I can't believe he's dead."

The Lieutenant fell silent. He had no words of comfort.

"Should'a been me not him."

Lt. Reed frowned. "How do you come to that conclusion?"

"I'm expendable, Malcolm," He explained. "The Cap'n isn't."

"Rubbish! No one on Enterprise is *expendable*, do you hear me? And if Captain Archer could hear you now he would be furious with you."

Trip blinked back tears. "Yeah, but he'd be *alive*, Malcolm."

His friend swallowed slowly while he regained his composure. "It wasn't your fault Trip, none of this was." He said quietly. "No one could have anticipated what the Xindi would do."

"An' now? What're we doin'?"

"We're following them."

"Why? Why follow them if we aren't gonna blast them outta the sky? Answer me that, Malcolm."

"The Sub-Commander thinks they may lead us to wherever it is that they are making the bomb."

"Ya mean their homeworld?"

Lt. Reed paused before answering. "Do you have a better idea, Commander? Because if you do I would really like to hear it."

Seconds passed into minutes. The Commander sighed. It did not so much sound like a truce as a flag of surrender. When he spoke again he sounded so desperately tired that Lt Reed almost turned him around and marched him back to his quarters to get some sleep. Which really was ridiculous because the Commander had only just woken up. Malcolm knew because he had woken him.

"Commander?" Trip did not respond. He stood leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Gently Malcolm touched his shoulder. "Trip?"

With an effort the Commander opened his eyes. "Sorry, Malcolm, guess I should'a gone to bed earlier."

"Why are you so tired?"

"Just not sleepin'."

The Lieutenant decided not to press further. "How about we get some coffee first?"

Trip sighed, managed a smile and let himself be coaxed to turn around and head towards the mess hall. "Now you're talkin'."

"Then Commander, we should be just in time for the Sub-Commander's next briefing."

"I thought we already had that?"

"That was yesterday. This, Commander, is another day..."

* * * * *

Dr. Phlox was feeling much better and had at last managed to persuade Ensign Cutler that he did not need someone with him twenty four hours a day. At first he had been amused. Flattered. Grateful. Now he was simply relieved to have slipped the leash. Sub-Commander T'Pol was pleased to find him alone in sickbay.

"Ah, Sub-Commander, I wondered when I would be seeing you."

"What have you discovered?"

"You were right. The residue from the simulacrum ashes confirms it. The trace elements were so small I had to test and retest the results to be sure."

"And the percentage parts per million in the residue from the transporter room?"

"Too close to be co-incidence."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. At last T'Pol said what was on her mind. "Why the subterfuge?"

"You said it yourself, T'Pol. They lie."

"Yes, but always for a purpose."

"Who says they don't have a purpose this time?"

A longer silence.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I see no point in raising the Commander's hopes, doctor."

"You aren't being fair to him, T'Pol." Said the doctor gently.

Her eyes hardened. "I think I am the best judge of that."

He shook his head slowly. "I think not."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously but he was not discomfited. He knew all her moods, and his time spent with the Commander since the mission had begun had not been wasted.

"Commander Tucker is far more resilient that you have given him credit for."

"As is the Captain."

"The residue and ash do not prove your theory."

"Neither do they prove he is dead. Damaged undoubtedly."

"Damaged? You mean injured."

She did not respond. The look in her eye said she knew exactly what she had said and it gave him the urge to shudder as he realised what she meant. She startled him with a revelation. "The Commander and I are now fully bonded."

"Is he injured?"

"No, doctor, but he should sleep for several more hours."

He frowned. "I do not think you can count on that, T'Pol. Humans are unpredictable."

She shook her head at his misunderstanding of her tactics. "I do not want my Ashayam to sleep."

"He will be unable to respond with his usual vigor, T'Pol. That could disadvantage him."

The look she gave him was level. Her eyes steady deep pools that threatened to drown him. "The better for us to control his autonomic responses."

Dr. Phlox accepted her decision though part of him felt a vague sense of unease. He liked the Commander. Knew T'Pol felt the closest thing a Vulcan could feel to love for the Human. But what they were up against dwarfed all considerations of singular loyalties. The larger picture had to be served and if some fell by the wayside in the service of the many so be it. He could not stop himself being grateful that he was a Denobulan. He hoped the Humans would approve what would be done in their name.

"How do you want to handle this?"

"We will follow; see where the Xindi lead us."

"And if it *is* their homeworld?"

"We will find the bomb and destroy it."

"And if not?"

She gave a slow measured pause. "Then we will destroy the Xindi ship and everything on it."

A longer silence followed, Dr. Phlox not taking his eyes off the Sub-Commander's face. "That would make the Captain's survival a moot point." He said quietly. His voice carefully non-judgmental.

For a moment her dark liquid eyes just stared at him. "Yes."

In the silence that followed Dr. Phlox was suddenly grateful that Trip had not been present for this particular discussion.

* * * * *

Continue to Part 22

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Nine of you have made comments

Um, WOW! That's all I can say for that first section! Still tryin' to catch my breath! I love where this is going! Please post again soon! Thank you, Ali! :-)

How can they communicate so beautifully and still fail to communicate? Because Ms. Dobell knows how to toy with her readers! Excellent.

Oh-kay…just finished viewing the pics of CT at the charity art auction near Los Angeles on the Vicarious Green site and went straight to reading this chapter. Whew!!! Way too much for this girl to handle!! This was another excellent addition to your already wonderfully imaginative story.

Ya know, i must say. Daaaammmmmmmmnnnnnnn!!! That was no joke. I've been looking forward to this chapter for like a week, or since i read the last one, keep em coming!

Good grief... well I can only say this... you have talent that goes past just being able to write something good! I can't say anything much, I'm just so happy to get the chance to read something so great! I'd love to be able to write like that!!! Can't wait for the next chapter!

Ali, wow. I mean WOW!!! We could definitely need some smilies here, like THUD! or everything else which is necessary when you´ll write NC-17. Here´s just another Woohooo!

Another WOW. I think I came along with Trip. I don't think I can handle another NC-17 chapter. Please give Trip and us other male readers a break....at least until tomorrow.

Hmmmm.... *narrows eyes at screen* what is happening??? the start so yummy and then you throw more green wood on the fire!

This is becoming a mystery! Secrets and more secrets! They are spys! Great job.