Get Us Out of Here - Ch 3

Get Us Out of Here

By Aquila

Category: Don’t know until the story ends
Rating: R, to give the muse room
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Spoilers: Yes – don’t read this if you don’t want to know.
Summary: Things didn’t turn out quite like Daniels expected. Trip and T’Pol and the crew of the Enterprise have to clean up his mess. Again.

--

Part 3

The crew of Enterprise ignored the frigid Antarctic polar cap fanned out below them on the Earth’s surface. Malcolm was head down at the tactical station. Mayweather was at the helm scanning files. Doctor Phlox was observing from the engineering hot seat. Sato, her attention focussed on a data screen, was the first to speak.

“The Presidio became the American Western Defence Command Headquarters during World War II. The Letterman Hospital was located on the grounds.”

She had reduced three hours of painstaking research to two pertinent sentences. Reed’s admiration for the woman doubled. The rise in his estimation caused him to look at her as if for the first time. He noted the shine of her jet black hair. For a second he wondered how soft to the touch her flawless complexion would be? He dismissed the thought as quickly as it arrived. Regulations prohibited him from acting on his newly awakened awareness of her femininity.

“And there was an air strip – Crissy Field.” Mayweather volunteered He had acted as Hoshi’s research assistant. She welcomed his help, reluctant to examine why she had flushed with pleasure at his offer.

The Denobulan watched the interplay between the humans. Mayweather appeared to be oblivious to the interest of the female, who in turn was oblivious to the interest of the acting captain. Professionally he was pleased that the trio had a mission to occupy them. Regulations were ineffective when emotion and lust were engaged. For the doctor, it was a natural leap from that observation to thoughts of Trip and T’Pol. He prayed to all the deities in the universe that they were safe.

--

With the rising of the sun, the time travellers sought safety in the shadows cast by an ancient conifer. The lower branches spread out from the trunk at a height that permitted them to sit comfortably, protected from observation from the air. With their backs to the trunk, they had a 200 degree view of the clearing. A carpet of old needles softened their contact with the ground.

“As soon as the sun begins to set, I think we should look for more permanent shelter.”

Trip whispered his suggestion into T’Pol’s left ear, playfully nuzzling the tip with his nose. She responded by rubbing her ear against his stubbled cheek. Trip, tempted to act on her tacit permission to touch, hesitated. Bowing to the seriousness of their situation, he tamped down his unresolved desire for the Vulcan and turned his attention to the task at hand.

“What do we know for certain?” T’Pol turned her face toward her companion so that he could hear her whisper.

“Certainty? You are an optimist. Daniels said that within two days an alien from the future would arrive to give Hitler the Allied invasion plans.” Trip began.

“We believe we are in Berchtesgaden in the summer of 1943,” T’Pol continued.

“I look like a poster boy for white supremacy and your countenance could strike fear into the heart of peasants.” He suckled the tip of her ear to take away the sting of his words. The sensation caused her to moan.

Encouraged, with his free hand he caressed her right ear as he continued his ministrations to her left. She quivered before leaning back to rest her head on his shoulder. Her left hand came up to run her fingers through his hair, pressing gently to ensure he did not break away.

Her breathing became shallow and rapid. He increased the pressure and speed of his caress. When she felt as taut as a bow string, he broke away.

“No, please.” Her cheeks were flushed and a pulse point throbbed in her neck.

“Hush,” he commanded placing his hands on her back 3 centimetres on either side of the fifth vertebrae. He began to apply pressure as she had taught him.

In the space of two heartbeats he heard her breath catch, followed by a long drawn out sigh. The tension in her body drained into the needle strewn floor. She sagged against him, her hand stroking his face one more time before coming to rest in her lap.

With one arm supporting her as she dozed, Trip rummaged through the sack that Daniels left. He searched for something to unravel the mystery of their time travel.

--

Doctor Phlox heard the trill from the computer that announced the discovery of an anomaly. He dropped the last handful of lugworms into the cage of Lingolian scarabs to bound across the sick bay to the data port.

“Phlox to Lieutenant Reed.” The doctor tapped the screen impatiently with a long finger nail.

“Report, doctor,” was the immediate reply.

“Just as you suspected, I have found a bio-anomaly in the Presidio.” The good doctor could not keep the triumph from his voice.

“Do you recognize the life form?” Reed was fearful that it would turn out to be someone’s pet tarantula or some other exotic creature.

“It is reptilian, somewhat akin to a snake. Cold blooded, but bipedal with too great a mass to be an indigenous species of reptile.”

“Xindi?” Reed did not try to hide his frustration.

“Oh, no,” assured the doctor, “A being unlike anything in my exobiology database.”

--

Satisfied that he had done as much as he could to further their mission, Trip leaned against the tree and examined his sleeping companion. The tension and stress that had shown on her face during the final days of their mission to save Earth disappeared in sleep. Her entire body softened, tempting him to touch and explore.

The sun had reached its zenith when T’Pol awoke, unsure of the time and place in which she found herself. A jolt of desire coursed from her breast to her womb, caused, she realized by someone rolling her left nipple between a thumb and forefinger – Trip. His scent was unmistakable. She peaked through her lashes. He was holding a book in his left hand, while his right, inserted through the collar of her flight suit, teased her breast. Her head lay in his lap. His legs still in shadow pointed toward the clearing. She remembered that she had begun to doze, in a seated position.

“My arm was falling asleep.” Trip had read her mind. “I tried to wake you up, but you were AWOL, so I just rearranged you.”

He removed his hand from her breast long enough to pull the zipper down to her navel. The top of her suit separated, exposing her undershirt, which he pushed up to bunch around her neck. She watched in fascination as he doubled over taking the breast he had been fondling in his mouth. He put his left arm under her neck, raising her up so that she was supported by his bent left knee. With his right hand, he moulded her breast to form a peak that he elongated with his teeth. Her body tensed then melted into damp bliss.

“You have my undivided attention,” was delivered in a husky lower register that he had heard only once before, when she was conducting experiments in human sexuality and he was the willing lab rat.

She continued to lean against his crooked knee. He sat back against the tree and watched her damp breast pucker as a cool breeze dried the skin.

“We need to talk,” he said warming her breast in his hand as he rubbed his thumb over the nipple.

“You are communicating very effectively,” she said between rhythmic intakes of breath that was quickly turning to panting.

“Great,” he grinned, intensifying the caress, which caused her body to spasm, “Then you won’t mind if I turn this into a dialogue.”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow. “You expect me to converse?” His nod in the affirmative left her speechless.

“You said you were having trouble coping with your emotions,” Trip winked, “I’m just givin’ you a hand with your baser feelings.” He moved his hand from her breast to her belly, where he drew lazy circles around her navel.

“You’ll be sixty-six your next birthday?” Trip waited for her to focus on his words, not his actions. “And you told me that revealing age is an intimate act for Vulcans.” She nodded, because her throat had gone dry, when his hand dipped between her legs.

“What I’m doing to you, now. What we did before. You don’t think this is intimate?”

“It is merely a biological response to stimuli,” was her disjointed response. She splayed her legs, giving him greater access.

“What makes revealing your age intimate?” She gasped, not at the question, but at one particularly effective movement of his hand.

“Revealing your age to my people…” she gasped, “is more akin to a declaration…” she moaned…”of intent.”

“What intention?” He stilled his hand and her moan changed from pleasure to regret.

“Of…: she was fretful, like a child who had lost a favourite toy, “the possibility of permanent pairing.”

--

Their target was the Presidio, in particular the Letterman Medical, which Travis had discovered was a tent camp on the Pacific side of the fortification. Malcolm after considering all the options made the rescue of Archer their primary mission.

“Dealing with the alien is secondary,” he told the away team. “We’ll go in under the cover of darkness. Get some rest before meeting me in the shuttle bay at 22:00.”

Malcolm dismissed his team, but asked Hoshi to stay behind. When he was certain they were alone he suggested that they dine together, before taking to their bunks to rest.

“Actually, I’ve made plans to eat with Travis.” She noticed the disappointment in Malcolm’s eyes so quickly extended an invitation to him to dine with them. The acting captain declined, missing the look of relief that animated Hoshi’s face.

Malcolm also missed Hoshi’s crash and burn, when she arrived in the Mess Hall to discover that she was not Mayweather’s only dining companion. The arm of Ensign Jacey Decroix was laced through Travis with a familiarity that Hoshi envied.

Both women would have been startled to learn that the life of Boomer entailed living in tight quarters, where touching and being touched strengthened community not romantic relationships. As a result he was unaware of the signals of interest they emitted.

--

An insight was obscured by T’Pol’s passion fogged mind. She nibbled on her lower lip as she attempted to focus.

Trip’s hand lay still and warm on her belly. He was fascinated by her attempt to curb the desire he had ignited. A portion of his brain was sorting through his cultural baggage for something to offer T’Pol that would equal her confession.

Finally the thought coalesced in T’Pol’s mind. Her companion’s attentive touch had lowered her inhibitions, enabling her to blurt the question unedited the moment it formed.

“If sexual contact is an intimate act,” she asked turning her head to look him in the eye, “Why are Humans so willing to participate with mere acquaintances?”

Trip recognized that he stood in a field of unmarked emotional landmines. One wrong step and their fragile relationship would be blown into oblivion. Would she reward him if he successfully negotiated the hazardous area? His third option, to turn the conversation back to the mission, was safest. He had seconds to decide which course to take.

End of Part 3.

Part 4

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

bloody excellent! oh don't make us wait so long this is good so very very good. i really love the web you are making on enterprise and the passions you are weaving with TNT in the past on earth.

well done!

Oh, good question T'Pol! What a place to end the chapter! I hope Trip has a good answer and she rewards him appropriately. :-)

oohhh!!!! ooohhhh!!!! i want him to answer her question, but do it "correctly" too. i like the metaphor used with it. i also just plain love this story. ur way with words is amazing!

You left us there?! Goodness, Trip really knows how to have a conversation, doesn't he? Loved the emotional entanglements of the others. Poor Mal. Poor Hoshi. Oblivious Travis. And Phlox the only one not working w/ half his brain in lust. Great stuff. Please don't leave us hanging too long!

That was a most amazing chapter! Wow again. You´ve got TnT down to perfection. I ALWAYS love your fics and missed them dearly during your "time-out"! More? Soon?

Ooops, well Trip did say he wanted her to *think*. Guess that idea is coming back to bite him in the backside a lot quicker than he had anticipated. Chuckle. Very good, can't wait for the next chapter! Ali d :~)

Trip's good answer (IMHO): You're not a mere acquaintance, darlin'... you never have been, not since the day we met.

I think the right answer is: "because they're foolish; and when they finaly find someone worth of sharing that intimacy and cannot say 'you were my first one, my only one...', they regret it deeply".

more soon.

Bravo! I'm back from a few weeks of being internet-less, and the first thing I check in on is the updated fanfic at the House of Tucker, to find this little gem. WOW!!! A cable modem and awesome fanfic all in one day! I'm driving with gas!

Chanting more more!!

I love your stories, and this one is no exception. I can't wait for more chapters.

The cliffhanger to end all cliffhangers! Please, please don't let him choose option 3 . . . and update soon!