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SUMMARY: "After surving the minefield and their less than happy encounter with the automated repair facility, doing their own repairs has never been so appealing."
SPOILERS: This story takes place after Season 2's "Minefield" and "Dead Stop"
It was weird. His whole body felt out of whack but he could not have said what if anything was wrong. He felt fine. Better than fine. Energised even. Despite being so all-fired weary that it was a miracle he was still standing let alone conscious. Shaking his head Commander Tucker headed back down to engineering hefting the huge tray of assorted sandwiches he had abducted from the mess hall. His people were crawling all over the belly of the beast working flat out to repair the damage from the mine. He moved expertly around his crew dropping sandwiches off to each and every one of them, remembering with uncanny precision who liked what and how. No one was surprised. Since Enterprise had embarked on its' maiden voyage the Commander had gone out of his way to get to know each and every member of his crew. Taking personal responsiblity for their well being as if accepting a solemn oath. That kind of caring and attention to detail also covered every nut and bolt of his domain from a minor leaky seal to losing warp capability. Like all gifted people he was a driven man but his compassion and easy going nature made it natural for others to bond to him in a spontaneous feeling of trust and affection. He never questioned their faith in him to look out for their interests and they never wanted to give back any less than 110%. Damn it. He was mighty proud of his people.
Captain Archer's voice cut through his reverie as his hands slipped on a greasy coupling. "Commander Tucker, how are things going?"
"We're gettin' there, Cap'n, but there's a whole lot t'do."
"How long? Best guess."
He thought about it for a split second, his brow creasing slightly.
"Or a dry dock." Quipped the Captain over the com.
The Commander noticed brief little smiles flicker across tired and oiled faces. "Sittin' out here in the middle of nowhere boltin' together whatever ain't nailed down is slow work, Cap'n. We're makin' an' mendin' but I gotta tell ya without the proper materials we'll be lucky to get her ship-shape in time for Christmas."
"Six months?" Exclaimed the Captain in horror making his Chief Engineer wince.
"Best estimate ya said, Cap'n."
The com went quiet. The Commander wiped his greasy face with the back of his hand. "Okay, Commander Tucker. Do the best you can. Archer out."
In the end his best estimate was out by three weeks but it still irked him that he had not been able to shave any more time off the repair work. Captain Archer went down to Engineering to take a look-see for himself. The tired smile of deep content on Commander Tucker's face said more about the superb quality of the repair work than the quiet hum of the ship and the steady reassuring thrum beneath his feet as he walked the deck plates examining the repaired sections. Behind them walked Sub-Commander T'Pol, her critical eye taking in and evaluating everything she saw. Commander Tucker knew it was her job but it still irritated him. Like she was saying he was not capable of doing a proper job without her looking over his shoulder the whole time. He bit his lip and let the thought slide. A couple of hours later Captain Archer finished his tour and turned to face his Chief Engineer. "I don't know how you did it, Commander, but you've done a first class job. Now I want you to take a few days off. Lt Hess can cover for you until you've rested properly. You look dead on your feet."
He shook his head. "Thanks Cap'n but I can't. I'll take a few hours and get some sleep I promise but a lot of my people are just as exhausted. I wanna give them a well deserved rest and I can't do that if I go off and take a holiday leavin' them with their noses stuck to the grindstone. 'Sides, it wouldn't be fair."
Captain Archer bit back a sigh of exasperation. "You're exhausted."
"We're ALL exhausted Cap'n and that's my point." He paused at the frown on the Captain's face.
"A day then." Wheedled the Captain. "Make it a 24 hour day of rest and I'll get off your back, deal?"
He nodded reluctantly. "Deal."
The Captain grinned and was about to clap him on the shoulder then realised just how mucky he was. The smell of oil, grease and burnt circuitry finally catching up with his nose. "You also might want to clean yourself up."
His Chief Engineer grinned back at him then stepped aside to stand down most of his crew. Taking the time to pass a few words of praise here and there. Swapping tired jokes and making sure his people were okay. When he turned around the Captain was gone but the Sub-Commander was still standing behind him. Her calm dark liquid eyes quietly fixed on him. Now what the hell did she want? When T'Pol said nothing he gave a barely discernible shrug and took a last tour round. Too tired to have at her for dogging his footsteps. She would likely get bored and go on her way. The Sub-Commander frowned as he turned away from her without speaking and tagged along behind him, her frown getting deeper as the first hour slid into two. "What are you doing, Commander?"
He slowed down but did not stop walking. "What d'you mean?"
"The Captain told you to rest. To take 24 hours off."
"I heard him, I'm not deaf Sub-Commander."
"Then why are you still here? You are tired and filthy and need to rest."
"Thank you, 'doctor', and I will. Just as soon as I know there's nothin' ugly outstanding."
He paused and a smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, ugly. It means somethin' horrendous and unexpected that's been overlooked."
Her brow quirked up. "The term bears no relation to the meaning you ascribe to it."
His smile became a grin. "Now you're gettin' the hang of it."
She frowned but he was already turning away and striding away from her. A few of the crew exchanged little smirks knowing how the Chief liked to tease the starchy Sub-Commander. He was surprised when she fell into step beside him but said nothing. At last he was satisfied and began to make his way to his quarters. Still the Sub-Commander walked with him. He cut a sideways glance at his Vulcan companion. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Sub-Commander?"
They were alone in the corridor approaching his quarters. "My tour of duty finished 59 minutes ago."
His mouth formed a little round o. He paused when he reached his door. "I don't wanna sound rude, T'Pol, but I need t'get washed up and get some rest."
His door swished open and he stepped inside. The Sub-Commander followed him. His mouth dropped open as his door closed, confining the two of them in his quarters. "Was there something you wanted?"
Her head tilted slightly as she watched him closely. He had been swaying slightly as he walked, every stop he made left him a little more weary when his steps resumed. The Sub-Commander had never seen him so shattered before. So vulnerable. Some indefinable part of her was concerned that he would make it back to his quarters in one piece but she could hardly tell him that. "I wish to talk to you."
Now he was intrigued but too tired to drag it out of her. "Pardon me if I don't think this is the best time. Ya know T'Pol, you're welcome to come or go - whatever - but if I don't rest soon I'll fall over."
She nodded, her suspicion confirmed. He was not quite sure what to make of her mood.
"Look, you want some tea help yourself but I have to go wash this muck off or the Cap'n'll throw a fit."
It was odd but even standing this close to him was not unpleasant. T'Pol frowned. What had changed? What was it about him that was different? Seeing her intent expression, he paused and watched her strangely immobile face. The miniscule changes in her expression and demeanour speaking volumes to him. What looked like impassive rock to others was a subtle medley of diverse feelings, tightly controlled but there nonetheless if you knew what to look for. He had no idea how he knew just that it was becoming second nature to him. She took a slow inhalation and tasted the smell of stale sweat mixed with oil and grease and that unique odour that was purely his. As she sifted the odours through her keen sense of smell she realised that the oil and grease muted the strength of his human scent. What had been irritatingly overpowering was now a subtle and intriguing blend. He waited a little longer then went to step passed her to get to the bathroom, expecting her to step aside for him. She did not move. He frowned.
"Are you okay, T'Pol?"
"I thought I told ya to call me Trip when it's just the two of us? And we are both off duty, T'Pol."
She took a breath and even more of his scent drifted into her nasal cavity and breathed life into her lungs. She suppressed a little shudder. "Trip." Another delicious breath. "You do not have to wash.... Trip."
He gave her a curious look. "But I'm filthy."
"Covered in ten kinds of grease and dirt and the kind of fluids you don't want to even think about."
She took a small step towards him deepening his puzzled frown. "It is... not unpleasant, Trip."
Now his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "T'Pol? You know how you hate the dirt. Hell, you can't even stand the smell of us humans let alone when we're
He did not finish the sentence. Something was smouldering in her eyes. A hand reached out and he froze as she drew a curious finger down his grimy cheek. Almost he forgot to breathe. Fascinated by the way she was tilting her head and inhaling his scent. It made him feel even grubbier but it also stirred him in a way that banished the thought of sleep from his mind. He wanted to shake himself. Sleep deprivation was a dangerous thing. He found he could not tear his eyes away from hers.
"You are tired," She said softly in a low hypnotic monotone.
He nodded slowly. Another finger joined the first, making twin trails through the grease and grime. She luxuriated in the way it helped her fingers to glide across the planes of his face. It was a good face. The eyes both naive and wise. The sharp curved tip of his nose denoting curiosity. The nicely rounded and firm chin showing character. Her free hand rose to touch the other side of his face, her fingers splaying slowly to frame the left side of his face while she continued to touch him lightly with the fingers of her left hand. Her eyes fixed on his with such intensity that he could not look away. Her words became a murmur and he was transfixed, his face tingling slightly. He was thinking he should move away but before the thought could translate into action she leaned closer and brushed her lips against his. Electricity shot through him, a slow burning hum of fire buzzing under his skin. T'Pol slowly licked his face, her tongue languidly tasting him through the grease and grim, her left hand now dropping to his chest, undoing the buttons of his coveralls while she slowly entered his mind. Her thoughts lapping his but not yet returning the favour. Not wanting him to know how much desire was breaking her Vulcan reserve. She did not want a human lover. They were irrational, emotional and impatient. A species so juvenile they needed to be chaperoned around the galaxy to keep them out of trouble. A race this impetuous could not possibly survive the dangers and rigors of space without the beneficent shadowing of the Vulcans.
Yet she desired him. Wanted to explore everything about this strangely complex being who challenged her preconceptions and undermined her superiority. What was it about him that drew her to him? She did not know. He shivered now, her tongue taking a delicious slide down his neck as she peeled his clothing off him. His mouth dropped open, his heart racing to her touch. She chased the pulse in his neck, the warmth of the blood vibrating beneath her mouth adding something to the flavour of him. Her lips sucked on his skin, her tongue lapping, the rough texture of her tongue producing goose pimples on his arms from the wet friction and making him shiver with the strain of building anticipation.
"T'Pol...... what're ya doin'?"
He got no answer. Having largely undressed him she gave a few expert flicks of her fingers over her own fastenings and stepped out of her one piece suit. His eyes rounded into shocked saucers. She was completely naked underneath, her skin glowing with a strange sheen. A greenish tinge. His mouth went dry. He had to be dreaming. No way would T'Pol strip off and seduce him in his own quarters. He closed his eyes and started to count to ten. Out loud. His eyelids flew open as she took his boxers off him and pushed him gently back so that he ended up sitting on his bed wearing nothing but a stunned expression on his face. He watched her lift his feet and remove the last of his clothing then kneel between his legs. He swallowed hard.
"I'm dreamin' right?"
Her eyes looked deeply into his, pausing to ask him a question. "Trip, what is wrong?"
"Nothin', just my self preservation holdin' my conscience hostage."
Her hands drifted down over his chest, she leaned in and began to lick his face again, determined to wash off every bit of dirt, grease and grime with her tongue while her hands settled into more traditional forms of exploration. "Is this not what you want, Trip?"
He was hot and confused as hell. "T'Pol..."
Suddenly he closed his eyes on a groan as her hands swept down between his legs to hold him. He gritted his teeth in a semblance of control. Her touch setting him on fire, his gut beginning to ache for her. Getting so turned on. She enjoyed feeling him harden in her hand as his penis inflated, blood engorged tissues throbbing up and down his burgeoning erection. She watched his mobile face, her fingers flexing round him and stroking him with such a beautiful action that it felt like he was dying. She dipped her head so she could lick his nipples. He jerked and opened his eyes on a slowly squeezed out groan as she nipped him with her teeth. How had she known to do that? "T'Pol, you're killin' me here."
Impossibly, T'Pol switched hands so she could stroke him with her left hand and cradle the side of his face with her right. He was trembling and beginning to jerk gentle into the rythym of her hand. Her fingertips sought out the contact points for a mind meld. He was too distracted to notice. His eyes were slowly becoming glazed as she opened his mind to hers, delving in with a sweet rush as she fastened her lips on his and deep throated him. He spasmed beneath her. She deepened the thrust of mind and hand, his body trembling but straining to obey her every urge, his desire the equal of her own. His mind swamped with erotic images that they were now sharing. Thoughts and feelings so intense that it was as if his mind was engaged in an intercourse just as intimate as his body. Careful not to hurt him their conjoined minds and bodies exploded in each other. She flipped his mind through the kind of mental contortions that would be the envy of the most advanced Yogi. His mind spasmed again and again, each time more sensitive to her thoughts and needs. Burning more and more brightly with the reflection of her desire until the aching need rose in his body with such painful urgency that she impaled herself down on him and almost stopped the beat of his heart. For a moment she paused, her pelvic bone resting between the harbour of his hips. He lay on his back, sweat pouring off him and filling the air with his thickening scent. T'Pol was getting more and more turned on, her demands on him getting rougher, less patient. It was then that he realised just how strong she really was.
Lying pinned down on his back, he watched through glazed eyes as T'Pol kept her right hand splayed to the left side of his face to keep the meld intact, her left hand braced on the right of his head. Then to his astonishment she began to raise herself up and down on her left hand like one armed press-ups only each depression rammed herself down on his erection making him gasp. Her superior internal muscles gripping and flexing the foreskin of his penis as beautifully as the stroke of any hand. He could not believe it. Her control was something else. His breath was ragged, his heartbeat all over the place, his mind in tatters as he tried to cling to reason and logic and a bit of plain old common sense. Who would have thought he would seek Vulcan attributes at a time like this? None of it mattered now. Dream or real he was lost as she teased him to a shuddering climax, her own orgasm swamping round his shaft. His overloaded senses plunged deeper into the erotic landscape as she intensified the mind meld to a point where he relived the orgasm a thousand times over in his mind like waves reverberating against a distant shore.
When she was finished, T'Pol's thoughts gently stroked his shocked mind. Withdrawing so gently he did not know what the hell had happened. Her fingers sliding down his face so tenderly, her look content, proud and oddly possessive. Now why did he think that? She kissed his lips, let hers linger for a moment. He was so damn tired. She knew. "Go to sleep, Trip." She murmured.
His voice sounded slow and drugged. His eyes cloudy and hazy. "I'm dreamin' this right? Just another wet dream..."
She had no idea what a 'wet dream' was but if he wanted to think he had been dreaming so be it. She stroked his face, brushed his damp hair out of his eyes and watched his heavy lids flutter and close in complete and utter exhaustion. T'Pol smiled then kissed his sleeping brow and pulled a cover over them, her body finally settling over his like an extra blanket.
* * * * *
He woke feeling dazed, happy and confused. For a moment he just lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. He was alone. So it had just been a dream? He swallowed slowly and felt an unfamiliar flavour in his mouth. His eyes brightened and the sleepiness vanished. His heartbeat began to stumble as he struggled to sort out his memories or were they fantasies? Just then his door slid open and Sub-Commander T'Pol stepped in carefully, balancing six plates on a tray. He sat up and stared at her, hardly taking in the oddly balanced plates as she set them down on the table next to his bed. She was wearing a loose fitting meditation robe. The material reminded him a bit of crushed velvet but was not so heavy. He liked the way it moved with her body adding grace to her movements. "I wasn't dreamin' was I?"
She pretended to misunderstand, choosing instead to sit on the bed. He caught his breath, heartbeat thundering so loudly at her proximity that he was afraid it would drown out anything she had to say. Her eyes held his, her look almost gentle or was that his imagination? Could Vulcans be gentle? Would T'Pol even know how? Something told him she would. There was something like a mischievous look in her eyes. "How do you feel, Trip?"
He got a kick out of her use of his nickname. He did not know she could read his mind now. Knew exactly what he was thinking and feeling. "I feel like I've slept really well and woken even more tired than when I went to sleep."
She laughed lightly. He looked shocked. Laughter? Help, he had to be dreaming. Vulcans did not laugh. Her eyes seemed to be mocking him. "We can laugh and we can smile, Trip, but years of controlling our emotions has made outward signs of such feelings redundant. A waste of energy."
Sadness touched his gentle heart. Sorrow that she could think such a thing. "Ya know, darlin', there's a lot t'be said for our inferior emotions."
A little smile tweaked at her solemn lips but her eyes were smiling at him. He turned his head and noticed all the plates. "Ya planning to empty the mess hall or just feed the five thousand?"
"I thought you might be hungry."
He gave the food a closer look and laughed. It was a good wholesome sound, just like him.
"Why are you laughing?"
"T'Pol, everything you've brought is a sweet. A desert."
She raised an eyebrow. "You like deserts."
"I know but..." He broke off and looked at her. "What do you mean I
"Pecan pie as I recall is your favourite."
He nodded. "Yeah, but you also brought strawberry shortcake, profiteroles in chocolate sauce, lemon meringue pie, rocky road ice cream, and what's this?" He chuckled. "Well, I'll be, rhubarb crumble and custard!" As he sifted through the various plates ticking off their contents he paused at a desert dish and looked up at her puzzled. "What's this?"
"T'Pol, the profiteroles are smothered in chocolate sauce. I don't think you need any more sauce on them and since when did you get such a sweet tooth?"
"The sauce is not for your tooth."
She shook her head. Intrigued he looked from the deep dish of chocolate sauce to her face. "Then what's it for?"
The Vulcan refused to tell him. Would not let him get up but insisted on feeding him in bed. He could not hide the smile on his face or the slightly abashed way in which her actions touched him. She knew.
"Okay, what now?"
She looked at all the plates. "What would you like to eat first?"
There was no question and no hesitation. "That's easy, Pecan pie!"
T'Pol inclined her head and picked up the plate of pie then a fork, carefully cutting off a piece and feeding it to him. His eyes closed on bliss, a huge smile of delight washing over his face. Before he could open his eyes he felt T'Pol's lips on his and sighed as her tongue probed inside his mouth and shared the flavours he was savouring now mingled with his own taste in her mouth. As they broke apart he looked at her in open amusement. "Ya know, while I appreciate all this tender lovin' care it's gonna take me forever to eat like this."
She gave him a mock look of severity. "The Captain gave you 24 hours."
He raised his eyebrows. "And you want me to spend them all eatin'?"
Her eyes sparkled and Trip found himself laughing out loud. "Well aren't you the dark horse."
She was about to ask what he meant when he shook his head and took the fork out of her hand, as she frowned he cut off a piece with the edge of the fork and offered it up to you. "Now it's your turn."
It took almost an hour to eat the five deserts. At last they piled the empty plates on the tray then Trip eyed the chocolate sauce and shook his head. "I don't know what induced you to bring chocolate sauce, T'Pol. I'm so stuffed full with sweet stuff I couldn't swallow another mouthful."
She looked amused. "It isn't for you."
"Since when have you liked chocolate so much?"
"Since Hoshi introduced me to it."
He was about to swing his legs out of bed and get up when T'Pol put a hand on his chest. Heat tingled and burned through him making him shiver with a whole pile of needs that shook him with their intensity. T'Pol urged him to lie down again then removed the covers. He wanted to sit up but she coaxed him down again.
"What are you up to, T'Pol? I have to get up."
"Not until after breakfast."
"Yeah, but I've eaten."
"I have not finished."
He remembered her chocolate and began to relax. "Oh."
Trip watched T'Pol pick up her bowl of chocolate. It was still slightly warm. He watched her stir it with the spoon then was alarmed when instead of bringing the spoon up to her mouth to eat it she turned the bowl upside down emptying the entire contents on his stomach. He sat up in alarm. Annoyed. "Hey!"
She put a hand on his shoulder and their eyes met. He froze as understanding slowly dawned. *Oh God, where did you pick up that little idea? Not Hoshi I'm bettin'.* He lay back and watched as she happily smeared the warm chocolate all over his genitals and across his stomach. He flinched as she coated his flaccid penis, using her hands to work it over and around his testicles and into all the fleshy folds. He was trembling as she spread his legs and got comfortable then began to slowly lick it off. Trip groaned. Oh God, it was so erotic and he was getting so turned on. The silky feel of the chocolate on his bare skin mingled with the attention of her tongue and sucking mouth was the most beautiful torture to him. He groaned softly. T'Pol wriggling right down between his legs to find the best position. He closed his eyes and felt himself getting hard enough to drill through solid steel, her teasing tongue driving him mad. She worked him mercilessly, not content until she had made him so excited that he ejaculated in her mouth, the creamy jism topped with chocolate, her mouth hanging open in a smutty soundless laugh at the expression on his face as he shuddered in her mouth. As he came she happily sucked and drank down the exotic little treat. He gasped as she continued to suck on him, her hands caressing his testicles, her tongue so gifted and unrelenting. Wanting to get every last bit of chocolate. Once she had sucked him dry she gently finished licking him off, watching him jerk as she touched him. Tongue, lips, teeth. The warm cavern and suction of her mouth. His body trembling. Hands reaching down for her, needing to hold her, to kiss her, to love her back.
She paused, looking deep into his eyes and seeing the unspoken love shining back at her. Now she knew what had drawn her to him. Understood the strange yearnings he aroused in her. The way her heart was never complete unless she was with him even if they were quarreling. How could she have missed the signs for so long? He opened his mouth to tell her how he felt. To confess his love for her but she shook her head gently and took off her robe. Then sliding into bed beside him she let him fold her into his embrace and disolved into his kiss.
*Oh God, T'Pol. I want to tell you how much I love you. How I can't bear to take a single breath without you*
The kiss deepened and Trip wished she had brought another bowl of chocolate sauce so he could return the favour. She swallowed his contented sigh and willed him to go back to sleep. Her thoughts touching his so gently, knowing that soon enough she would have to explain about the mind meld she had iniated. Tell him how long she had dreamt of showing him how she felt. She loved him so much but until now had known only that she was drawn to him not why. As her thoughts sailed within his gentle mind she saw her own passion for him mirrored in his heart and realised the emotion she was feeling was love. An emotion that felt all the stronger for being unspoken.
* * * * *
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Eight hardy souls have made comments
mmmmmmmmmmm. chocolate! great story.
yum yum, chocolaty goodnes... ;)
yum yum, chocolaty goodness... ;)
Chocolate and Trip... two wonderful combinations... T'Pol has all the fun!!!!!
That T'Pol, she's got some kinky fetishes hasn't, chocolate sauce, greasy-dirty-sweaty Trip! She always seemed so clean cut,(next thing you know she'll be asking her sexy engineer for a good spanking- naughty girl that she is. Thanks for a good old feel good story!!!!
That's it. That is the best short story I have ever read. Ali, you are a genius. This is the most vivid, breath-taking, and wonderful story I have ever read. If T'Pol had left him when he fell asleep and the story had ended there, this would already have been unbelievable, but that breakfast scene blew my mind. I have no idea how you can come up with something like that. You have an insight into the characters, it is awe-inspiring. Honestly, if I ever thought any of my own stories where »original« ... I had no idea.