Beta Waves - Pt 8

Beta Waves

By Aquila

Rating: R
Category: Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: All things Trek are Paramount’s. The errors are mine.
Summary: Cornered by duty, Trip fights for the future. Sequel to Theta Waves. There be spoilers and unabashed speculation by Aquila.

==

Part 8

Hope lived again in the hearts and minds of the Enterprise crew. Trip could feel it. Smiles lit the corridors. Laughter followed whispered conversations. Meals were no longer served with a side order of tension. Trip resented the change and a favourite quotation haunted him, “Now is the winter of our discontent.” The sun to make glorious summer was no longer in his orbit.

His personal living space shrivelled to the size of Porthos’ transport cage. Lumps the size of melons multiplied in the mattress on his bunk. Cold water poured from the hot water faucet. His razor had a perpetually dull edge, while his carnal appetite was permanently whetted. Deep breathing fuelled the hunger, reminding him of his intimate interlude with T’Pol.

==

T’Pol showered and changed. She extinguished all sources of light, but one candle. She knelt on her meditation pillow, closed her eyes and began to breathe. Immediately the memory surfaced, securely tied to the rhythm of her breathing.

“Breathe, baby.” His voice had been a low rumble. “Deep… long… and slow.” He turned one syllable into five. “That’s it.”

Wound tight by the mastery of his tongue and hands, she had feared release. The soft night air eddied about tracing cool patterns on her skin, which were immediately erased by the warmth of his hands. They were face to face and belly to belly, on their knees. She recalled that the log on which they had perched was by then pressing into the small of her back. She lifted her shirt and felt for the proof of the memory with her hand. Grazed skin was rough under her finger tips.

He lifted her chin with one finger. “Look at me, T’Pol.” Blue eyes blazed. She blinked at the intensity. “Look at me.” Her identity evaporated. Energy flowed between them, from his eyes into hers, through her body and back to his, in a circle that made them one.

“Do you trust me, T’Pol?” She recalled nodding, because words were impossible. “Then let me take you over the edge, please.”

At her nod he adjusted the positions of their bodies. She found herself facing the log, her back aglow with the heat he radiated. He placed his thumbs three millimetres either side of the fifth vertebrae, replicating the first neuro-pressure posture she had taught him. She stopped breathing as he began to apply pressure.

“No, baby, keep breathing, just like you taught me. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.”

The past echoed in the present, as she began breathing as she had during that moment. A sympathetic tingle began in her lower abdomen as the memory flooded her brain.

“I can feel you loosening up,” he had whispered in her ear. “So let’s take you all the way. Breathe in.” He made them one for three beats of their hearts. “Breathe out.” He withdrew. “Breathe in.” They were one again, all the while his thumbs applied pressure. Just as it had then, her internal and external muscles began to contract and release in time with the breathing.

“I can feel you blossomin’, honey,” his voice was encouraging. “You want to run now, don’t you? But we’re going to slow it down even more.”

Her heart had constricted then, and it constricted now as she recalled the sweet torture he had lovingly inflicted. When her slow deep breaths changed of their own accord to quick short pants, he increased his thrusts and deepened the pressure exerted by his thumbs. With a throaty moan, T’Pol shattered into a thousands shards of coloured glass, collapsing forward as she had then. This time his powerful hands were not there to catch her.

==

In his ready room, Archer used his command overrides to monitor the communication between his First Officer and the Chief Engineer. When he found nothing personal, he tried again. Had Phlox been wrong?

==

“T’Pol, how is the comm. link?” Archer waited for her reply.

“Excellent, Captain,” replied the disembodied voice.

Trip’s heart skipped a beat. It was the first time that he had heard her speak since their good-bye in the shuttle pod. She sounded composed, cool and efficient – normal. What did you expect you idiot, he chided silently, panting and sweet nothin’s? You haven’t even sent her a personal communication since you got back. The devil on his shoulder reminded the commander that she too had failed to initiate personal communication.

“Trip, Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis and Major Hayes are here with me.”

Her good morning prompted a number of greetings from the assembled senior staff. T’Pol noted the last to respond was Commander Tucker. She was relieved by his discrete “Good mornin’, Sub-commander.”

“Hoshi, would you begin the briefing, please?”

“We have sufficient evidence to believe that the Xindi plot to destroy humanity is not common knowledge amongst the general population.” She paused to allow for objections. There were none. “That fact is our enemy’s Achilles heel.”

Major Hayes speculated, “Disclose the secret and encourage opposition.”

“In this case,” agreed Archer, “What they don’t know will hurt us.”

Malcolm added, “You are going to use public opinion as a weapon.”

“I would prefer to think of it as a diplomatic tool,” the Captain explained.

T’Pol’s voice was heard, “How do you expect to communicate your message to the general population?”

“We will begin with one ship, one colony, one trading post, one encounter at a time.”

Hoshi spoke, “Since the application of the Trellium, our ability to monitor sub-space communications has improved radically. The range of our long range sensors has improved. I have assigned crews to monitor and identify public communication systems. We are improving out understanding of Xindi dialects by the hour. By the end of the week, we will begin writing and producing audio and video messages to distribute whenever an opportunity arises.”

Malcolm and Hayes spoke at the same time, “We must remain prepared to back diplomacy with weapons.”

They glared at each other. The agreement of the captain did nothing to ease the rivalry.

“Hoshi will transfer coordinates every six hours to the helm, based on the data her people collect. The chatter should lead us to the heart of the Xindi home region. T’Pol, please assist Hoshi with the analysis. Trip - see what you can do to increase the efficiency of the sensors. Mr. Reed, Major Hayes – begin round the clock surveillance. As we go deeper and deeper into Xindi territory we increase our chances of hostile action.”

There was one final order. Archer kept his eye on the chief engineer as he made it. “The Trellium hull lining will not be removed until we have a signed treaty of peace.”

The volatile, expressive face of his friend was unreadable. He remained passive as T’Pol’s, “Understood Captain,” hung in the air between them. Archer felt the rift between them widen.

==

The sound of the activated communication drawer through which the chef passed her meals startled T’Pol. A steward had collected her dirty dishes hours before. The next meal was not scheduled for hours. When the red light turned to green signalling that the contents were safe to retrieve she opened the small hatch. In a pool of pale light lay a paper envelope and a peach.

Holding it like the precious thing that it was, she carried it to her desk, where she discovered that her name had been written in ink by hand on the exterior. Paper was a great luxury and handwriting was almost a lost art amongst Humans. Documents were signed with thumbprints and styli. If life depended on it, she could not recognize the handwriting of any member of the Enterprise crew. The peach provided a clue, but she could not be certain.

Whoever had prepared this letter had a taste for finer things. The paper was expensive, with a sensuous grain. The ink was blue black. From the lettering she deduced that a fountain pen had been used to write her name. T’Pol turned the envelope over. There were no other markings.

The envelope was not sealed. She withdrew the flap carefully. Inside was a sheet of paper that matched the envelope. It had been folded in thirds. She withdrew it to unfold it. Before her was a sheet of tightly packed sentences written in the same ink and hand as the envelope. She skimmed to the signature: Trip. Her heart lurched. She dropped the page as if it were a sheet of Trellium-D.

Reluctant to pick the letter up again, she delayed by pulling the desk chair into position and sitting down. She straightened a perfectly aligned boxed. She focused on the peach, raising it to her nose to breathe its unique scent. She stroked the fuzzy exterior. The texture reminded her of the stubble on his chin. She raised it to her lips. She took a tentative bite that caused the juice to run down her chin. With her hand she wiped her face then licked the nectar from her hand. Images flashed through her mind, followed by his words and that tingling sensation between her legs that only thoughts of him kindled.

The next bite ripped away the flesh of the fruit, spreading a spray of juice across the desk and the letter, causing some of the words to run. She paid no attention as she unleashed the Human aspects of her personality, which she had spent a lifetime denying. She moaned imaging Trip’s body responding to the sound as it had during that one moment in time when she had indulged her sensuous side.

End of Part 8

Continue to Part 9

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Oooohhh, peaches... you've gotten my hungry! I MUST know what the letter said! Pleace continue!

Great chapter, though I think Archer is being a jerk as usual. What does he think he's doing listening in on their communications. Love the interation between Tpol and Trip. Please continue with this soon. THANKS.

Thoroughly enjoying this. The whole peach thing is just so sensuous (mmm...) Suspense is a good thing...anticipation and all that, but please - PLEASE - write faster. No, I take that back. A good story takes as long as it takes. But if there's any way to hurry just a bit...? Thanks!

Trip sending a hand written letter and a peach.
Purr! That is so sexy! I love this!

Fabulous, but unlike T'Pol I would have moved the letter to one side so as not to ruin it with the juice... Always have to save something tasty for later. Yum. Can't wait for the next part, this is so good I want to keep savouring it. Thank you so much, Ali D :~)
There are times when I really want to hit the Captain over the head with something *very* heavy

Now this is excellent! Well done and please continue!

your are crazy evil, i want to know what the letter said. I'm beginning to think you were trained in russia or something to torture people because you are way to good at it. DAMN YOU.

P.S. Love you are your writing

Ah, T'Pol as close to hot and bothered as a Vulcan not in Pon Farr can get. Delicious.
Excellent chapter! Trip finally gave in, huh? Decided to ignor his devil and talk to her. Now just what did that letter say?

Please, more soon!

Your writing is really topnotch.

ARGH!!!!!! the cliffhanger. What was in the letter?!?!?!I have to agree with Mrs Tucker. Are you trying to kill us?

I do love the story btw. ;)