Alpha Waves - Pt 8

Alpha Waves

By Aquila

Rating: R
Category: Angst, Romance
Summary: Sequel to Beta Waves – T’Pol meets her Father and trips.

==

Part 8

Archer was amused by the response of the refit crew whenever Sheila stopped to chat and ask questions. The younger the man, the more tongue tied he was. The women – they were professional, answering her questions, but thankful when she turned her attention elsewhere.

He had posed for photos in the command chair, at the desk in the ready room and with Porthos in the quarters they had shared. In the engine room, she asked about the Chief Engineer.

“Why isn’t Commander Tucker supervising the refit of the engines,” was her casual question.

“He was granted shore leave.” Seeing that she wanted more, he continued, “He will return on Monday.”

She made a mental note that the Captain had not said that Tucker would return to supervise the project. With every road block came confirmation that something was up.

When they toured the bridge, Farnsworth had enquired about T’Pol, “Will you miss her?”

“I can’t miss someone who will continue to be part of my life,” he said. “She volunteered to accompany Enterprise on what everyone on board believed was a suicide mission. She will always be a close friend.”

Sheila knew instantly who her rival was. She also knew that the pair had never consummated the relationship. Archer had accepted Sheila’s advances too readily for there to have been anything other than a platonic relationship. Tucker! The absent Charles Tucker the third was the key to the mystery.

==

Colonel Hayes decided that Reed’s anger, although directed at him, was caused by something beyond the man’s control. Hayes had come to understand that besides a love of explosives, they had in common a neurotic need for control.

“What’s on your social calendar tonight,” he asked, because he had no idea how to over come the wariness that was essential to their relationship.

“The Princess, Patricia, Louise, Elizabeth, Victoria,” groaned Reed.

“Long legs, snooty nose and a figure like a young Kate Hepburn?”

Malcolm’s head shot up, “You’ve met her?”

Hayes snorted, “Only on the net.” His admission that he visited the seamier sites made him seem more approachable to Malcolm.

“She’s here to pin me with a medal,” was his explanation.

“And the down side to that is?”

“I think she expects to be pinned afterward.” Malcolm pleaded for understanding with his eyes. Hayes failed to follow.

“Pinned as in pinned to the mattress,” cried Malcolm in exasperation.

“That could kill your career,” proved the MACO was more aware of politics than he let on. “You can’t even blame this one on Tucker.”

==

Pacing the floor like a pregnant father waiting for word of a safe delivery was one, Travis Mayweather, with a Starfleet future so bright he had to wear sunglasses when he thought about it. What if she really is? What if she isn’t? The pendulum of his emotions swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

He was in the waiting room of a clinic that was wooing Phlox. The HMO that funded the place was confident that if Phlox’s shingle hung over the door the organization would become the clinic of choice for Admiral’s wives and crewmen’s families.

“You are not family, Mr. Mayweather,” said Phlox barring Travis’ entrance into the examining room.

If Travis had not hesitated so long, the good doctor would have understood that his examination was to establish just that. Hoshi had remained mum too.

==

Trip stood in front of the vid screen clicking through the available movie offerings. “Hey, T’Pol, movie night takes on a whole new meaning here.”

He tilted his head from side to side. “How did they do that?”

“That’s a variation of the camel posture,” she deadpanned.

“One hump or two,” he enquired, erupting into gales of laughter.

T’Pol had the last laugh, “One will do nicely for now.”

==

Trip checked for missing body parts. He grunted with relief. “I have at least one of everything. Pairs are over rated.”

He attempted to roll over, but fell back on the bed unable to lift his head, “Son of a bitch, even my eyelids hurt.”

He smacked his lips, “Yuck, a pack of Klingon targ must have used my mouth as a litter box.”

One eye cracked open. Night had fallen darkening the room. The room! He was on the moon in a honeymoon suite with T’Pol. Where was T’Pol? He patted the mattress at his side. Not there. His hands flailed up and down his body. I’m buck-naked and still no T’Pol. Adrenaline flooded his system, providing the necessary lift he needed to sit up.

“Ah, shit.” Every muscle in his body hurt. He passed out from the pain, his last thought – T’Pol drugged the champagne.

==

T’Pol had guessed the dosage. Her first guess had been wrong. She slowed him down, but had not knocked him out. Immobilized by indecision outside the biggest casino on the moon, she recalled realizing that she had not taken into account the effect of the hormones that had been released into his blood stream during the foreplay that she had initiated. Had the second dose been too much?

Eager gamblers brushed past on their way in to win unimaginable fortunes. Losers brushed past listlessly on their way out, with pockets as empty as their dreams. She had chosen the casino as a location for the meeting because she was taking a gamble and she had much to lose. The answers to a lifetime of speculation were inside, yet she hesitated.

==

“It’s a bit of a gamble,” admitted Hayes.

“Do you think she will believe me?” The success of the plan rested on Reed’s ability to convince her.

“Do you believe it?”

It occurred to Malcolm that Hayes may not have been promoted beyond his level of competence. “Yes, I believe that casually bedding the heir presumptive to the British throne is the wrong thing to do.”

Hayes pushed his point, “Can you make her believe that you would bed her if you weren’t a lowly Lt. Commander?”

Reed turned the tables, “Could you?”

“Hell yes,” was Hayes emphatic reply.

“Two hurdles surmounted.” He squinted at Hayes. “What is the flaw in your plan?”

“Convincing her that you are saving yourself for the right woman.” He slapped Reed on the back. “Do you think she knows any of the women in Tucker’s little black box?”

“Why do I feel like I’ve shortened my career by thirty years?”

End of Part 8

Continue to Part 9

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