A Foolish Mission -pt 2

A Foolish Mission

By Aquila

Rating: R
Disclaimer: Nope, I don’t own anything connected to or with the Star Trek franchise.
Summary: Although this story stands alone, it follows the conclusion of C’est pour nous deux, la lune qui danse, which followed No More Blackened Catfish and Pecan Pie.

Part Two

==

“Ah, there you are Commander,” Reed said oblivious to the contest of wills, “Do you have a moment, I have been meaning to discuss some enhancements I would like to make to the photonic torpedoes?”

Trip opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by T’Pol, “Can it wait until the morning, Lieutenant? The Commander and I have a pressing matter of our own to discuss.”

“Of course, T’Pol,” he addressed his next question directly at the Commander, “Would ten hundred tomorrow be satisfactory, sir?”

Trip nodded in agreement. Malcolm disappeared around a corner in the corridor. And T’Pol? She was at a loss to know what to do next.

“This discussion you mentioned,” Trip lowered his voice to a seductive whisper. “Would that be in your quarters or mine?” The engineer suspecting that she was waging an internal battle of intergalactic proportions waited.

“Your door is already open, Charles.”

Charles, she had called him Charles. He wanted to raise his fist above his head and shout in triumph. He wanted to, but knew that if he did, the fragile thread by which their reconciliation hung would snap.

Instead he showed his approval by quoting a phrase she used rarely, but always to express approval. “It is logical.”

==

Three failed long-term relationships with Human females had taught Trip Tucker one vital truth, sleeping with them was mostly about sleep – anything else that occurred in bed was a bonus – a bonus for which he was expected to be unendingly grateful.

With T’Pol, the dynamics were different. Demonstrating affection publicly, showing emotion privately, sending seductive signals when she was feeling carnal were nigh onto impossible for her. She would never reinforce the feelings he had for her in any conventional manner, more over she would not expect it of him.

Would she expect him to unendingly grateful for those moments when she permitted intimacy? He was not sure of the answer, but if their brief affair was any indication, she would be an active and highly willing participant. She would not make him feel as if had to apologize for his desire.

“You can leave anytime you want, T’Pol,” he reassured her as she regarded him with suspicion. “I’ve gotten into the habit of locking my door, since unwelcome guests kept barging in on us unannounced.”

Remembering the consequences of those events she commented, “A sensible precaution, Commander.”

Still with the Commander, he noted. She had stopped using his nickname since they had returned to Enterprise. As long she continued to use his rank, he knew, a return to their former intimacy would be impossible.

Once the lock was set, he sat on the bunk that was now his sofa. “I haven’t changed a thing.”

T’Pol surveyed the small cabin. The pallet she had constructed on the floor still lay where she had placed it. The bedding was pristine she noted.

As if reading her mind Trip said, “Notice that there is no sign of …activity…on the bed.”

Casually, she stepped to the drawers, pulling out the top one. It was empty.

“There’s still drawer space for your unmentionables, even a replacement for that wisp of nothing that haunts my dreams.” T’Pol thought he sounded wistful.

Finally she sat beside him on the bunk. It too showed no sign of occupation. The pillows were symmetrically arranged and the blanket unwrinkled. Tucker was an energetic lover, she knew from experience. If he and Nelson had been intimate it would be evident. The relief that swept over her irked her.

“You don’t know whether to be relieved or angry do ya?” His amused tone irked her more.

He swept her into an embrace, “Baby, I’m dead tired. I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow. Let’s go to bed and get a good night’s sleep.”

T’Pol sat stunned, as he divested himself of his outer clothes. “You didn’t know I slept in my skivvies, did ya?” He said as he carefully folded his uniform and placed his boots under the bunk.

“Here let me help you.” His mother would have been pleased with the good manners he was showing he thought. T’Pol on the other hand was still processing his invitation, completely at a loss.

His assistance began at her feet. Carefully he removed each boot and the socks which covered her feet. He took his time rolling each sock and putting it inside a boot, which he aligned with his boots. Then he took each of her feet in turn, rubbing the arches with his thumb, until she moaned.

Next he lowered the zipper on her cat-suit, slowly. The sound seemed to fill the cabin. Carefully he pushed the top of the suit from her shoulders.

“Lift up,” he commanded. When she raised her bottom off the bunk, he pulled the suit down and off. “How did you avoid bein’ issued the blue Starfleet underwear?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

He placed her folded uniform on the bunk beside her. He stole a soulful kiss full of tongue and promise. Sufficiently distracted, she did not protest, when he swept her up into his arms to carry her to the pallet.

“If I remember? And I do remember - you prefer the right side of the bed,” he said setting her down gently.

He pulled back the covers and bowed her in, taking the left for himself. Before she could settle completely, he drew her into his arms once again, for a quick hug and a peck on her cheek.

“Good night, darling.” He settled on his back, his arm holding her to him.

==

He was gone when she awoke the next morning. On his pillow he had left a personal data device. She touched the screen and a message popped up.

“Good morning, Darling. I had an early morning staff meeting. You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to wake you. Here’s my schedule for the next week. Fill in the times that you want to share with me. I have taken the liberty to fill in some…just erase the entries if they conflict with your schedule.”

She scrolled through the agenda, stopping wherever her name appeared. There were five entries, each of them scheduled for 23:00. The notation read ‘sleep with T’Pol in our bed.’

==

Sleep was a word with many connotations in the standard language of the Humans. T’Pol was conversant with most of them. She was well aware that when a pair of mating Humans used the term there was more to their meaning than merely falling unconscious together. However, Commander Tucker showed no evidence that the verb meant anything more than, well, sleeping together.

By the fifth evening of their platonic sleeping arrangements, T’Pol was frustrated, another standard word with connotations, both of which were threatening to consume her and he did not appear to notice. Trip was a victim of his own cleverness. The illusion that he was not interested in anything other than a platonic relationship with her was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.

End of Part Two

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Four of you have made comments

Trip's totally switch his battle plan on this one. I'm curious as to how T'Pol plans on making her own advance...

You just *have* to love a man who can undress a beautiful woman and then truly sleep with her....staying on his side of the bed!
Great stuff-can't wait to read more!

Now the game starts. I really like this chapter. The first one was too much angst for me.

I'm with Lisa - this chapter was fun.
It sounds like poor T'pol frustrated, but now I'm wondering if Trip can handle himself in this new game.