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Get Us Out of Here - Ch 6Get Us Out of Here By Aquila Category: Don’t know until the story ends -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Part 6
Malcolm’s parents stopped short at the threshold to the ready room. Six familiar faces had turned at the sound of the pneumatic hiss that announced the opening of the door. The youngest, Lt. Commander Byron McVeigh, Malcolm’s first cousin once removed stepped forward to usher his aunt to the centre of the room. Malcolm noted the marked contrast between the greeting she had given him and the one she gave his cousin. He swallowed a sigh. A moustachioed captain with a bald pate proffered his hand to the senior Mr. Reed. “Good to see you, Uncle Frederick.” Malcolm’s father gave his nephew a two-fisted handshake, heartier than any he had given his son since Malcolm joined Starfleet. Although he was impatient to continue, Malcolm curbed the impulse to call the meeting to order. Re-establishing family ties was essential. The other female in the room, Fiona Drummond, slipped around the outside of the family group to stand at Malcolm’s side. She slipped her arm through his. “How have you been cuz?” Fiona was his courtesy cousin. She was the daughter of the second man to marry his father’s youngest sister. “I have been better, milady,” Malcolm followed her lead falling into the charade they had played as children. Fiona, a Scottish lass, was Lady Macbeth and he was her Sassenach Shakespearean cuz from the Border Counties. “Then pray let me soothe your troubled brow,” she winked, “And any other part of you that is wrinkled and neglected.” “Ever the aggressor,” noted Malcolm, “You will find me more experienced than our first time together.” “Your first time,” she reminded him. “Not mine.” Malcolm flushed with the memory and surrendered, “I’ll have your things taken to my quarters, milady.” Two hours later, arms akimbo, flat on her back, breathing heavily, Fiona Drummond felt spasms of release ripple through her body and laughed. “Dearest cuz,” she addressed the ceiling as Malcolm was occupied elsewhere, “Have you been practicing without me?” Malcolm slid upward, dragging a finger sensuously along her sternum, “Not as often as I would wish.” Fiona frowned in mock anger until Malcolm turned the frown to a grin and the retort that hovered on her lips to a groan of pleasure. -- Mayweather was so intent on his view of Hoshi’s rear he missed the second signal from the MACOs, a warning to stay put. Hoshi saw it, halted and was promptly knocked to the ground by the unobservant Travis. The accident saved their lives. A new enemy patrol had spotted them as they crossed the rocky ground from the cliff edge to the shelter of the trees where their compatriots lay hidden. The enemy opened fire without warning. Travis and Hoshi in a tangle of legs and arms heard the bullets pass overhead. “Stop struggling,” ordered Mayweather as he put his hand over Hoshi’s mouth, dousing the retort that was on her lips. “By staying put we give the MACO’s the chance to make the best of a bad situation.” Two phase pistol flashes illuminated her face long enough for Travis to see into her eyes, and find, to his surprise, permission to take liberties. Hoshi interpreted Travis’ surprise as reluctance to respond to her invitation. “Travis,” she rolled away from him, “We have to get out of here. The sound of fire will raise the alarm.” As if her words were a cue, a klaxon began to bellow and searchlights began to scan the night sky. -- Immersed in darkness, punctuated only by light leaking from under the bathroom door, Trip placed his right eye to the crack he had created in the blackout curtain. A squad of military police goose-stepped through the square below. The curfew watch was making its rounds through the lamp less streets with nothing but a crescent moon to light their way. The curtain fell cutting him off from the fearsome reality of their predicament. In the darkness he could be anywhere, in any time. A knock at the door returned him to the moment. “Wer ist es?” Trip picked up a fire iron. “Zimmerservice,” was muffled by the door. “Ein Moment, bitte,” he stalled, leaning the fire iron against the wall near the door jamb. Trip opened the door, prompting one more remark from the innkeeper, “Ihr Wein und Käse, Kapitän.” Trip did not need a phrase book to translate that sentence. Their host carried a large tray with a silver cloth on which was arranged a selection of cheeses, slices of bread and a bottle of Rhine wine. “Danke,” said Trip holding his arms out to take the tray. The innkeeper’s eyes swept the room. Hoping to get a glimpse of my naked companion, no doubt, thought Trip. “Gute Nacht, Mein Herr.” Trip dismissed him. “Gute Nacht, Kapitän.” After placing the tray on the coverlet, Tucker bolted the bedroom door. He slid the back of a chair under the door handle as an extra measure of security. He turned out the lamp, crossed the room and knocked on the bathroom door. “T’Pol, the food is here.” Had T’Pol been human she would have smiled at his courtesy and protection of her modesty. She would have coyly flirted through the closed door, escalating the tension and anticipation, until she emerged to relieve his frenzied ardour. Or so she thought having listened as the human females on board Enterprise boasted of conquests and seductions. But she was Vulcan and roiling with emotions over which she no longer had control. The one certain cure she knew for the turmoil she was experiencing was his touch. Therefore she did the logical thing inviting him to assist her to towel off excess water. “You want what,” Trip sputtered? “I require your assistance to dry myself,” she repeated. Had Trip been Vulcan he would have done as his female bid, nothing more nothing less. He would not have wondered if he were being seduced again or why she needed help with an activity she had performed without assistance for twice his lifetime. However Trip was Human and fearful of the way he so readily relinquished to her control of their on again, off again intimacy. Intimacy that he could not separate from their physical dallying, in which he knew they both took great, if somewhat reluctant, pleasure. Therefore he did the least logical thing and entered the bathroom. T’Pol turned her head, watching him enter over her shoulder. He glowed with vitality and confidence in the contrast between the darkness of the bedroom and the light from the bathroom that illuminated his face. She froze. Her left foot rested on the rim of the claw-footed bathtub. A towel cascaded on to the floor. She had been drying the area between her toes with a tiny corner. Trip drank in the long graceful curve from her buttocks to the nape of her neck, noting the damp wisps of hair that clung there. “Here, let me do that.” He swept the towel from her hand. He snapped it in the air so that he could grip the upper edge to engulf her from the neck down in the fluffy white cloth. They rose together to stand like a two headed beast with a great white belly. Still spooned together, he began to rub the towel over her body, slowly, gently, as if he had eternity to finish the task. He generated an ephemeral friction that smoothed the edges of her restlessness. As he worked his way down her body, exposing more and more of her skin, she became aware of the rough texture of his tweed vest and wool shirt pressing against her back in time with the soft rhythm of the towel. With his breath hot on her neck she was fire and ice, sweet and sour, lover and beloved. That was the moment T’Pol was found and Trip was lost. End of Part 6
Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS! Nine of you have made comments"That was the moment T’Pol was found and Trip was lost." I love this line!
you are bloody evil! i love what you are doing to TnT but poor hoshi and malcolm! continue at a faster pace please ;-) You know, you have a real knack for cliffhangers. ;-) Ah, noooo. You´re driving us crazy - and you´re probably enjoying it... ;-))) So, we´ll wait a bit more, hmm? "That was the moment T’Pol was found and Trip was lost." = Highest perfection possible!!! You're driving me crazy with the UST, but moreso with Malcolm. What is going on with him? If this is a dream, it's seriously whacked. oooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh *whimpers* D'oh!! ... what's up with people who like to end their stories just as it starts to get interesting? aaarrrhhh. "That was the moment T'Pol was found and Trip was lost." is now one of my all time favorite lines. Pretty much explains it. Your next posting is ..... ? Loved the story, loved the line (absolute perfection, that last line!). Even loved the cliffhanger since you ended on just the right (lovely) note! But why, oh why, is Malcolm carrying on with that woman??! He belongs to Hoshi! And what on earth is Hoshi doing chasing after Mayweather? She belongs to Malcolm! Please make this right . . . . |