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No More Blackened Catfish...Pt 6

Author - Aquila
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No More Blackened Catfish or Pecan Pie*

By Aquila

Part 6

Rating: R
Disclaimer: This is a form of recreation that garners me no remuneration, but plenty of satisfaction.
Note: This does not adhere to canon, but does contain spoilers.
Summary: Trip, T’Pol and the Delphic Expanse.
Author’s note: the asterisk will be explained at the end of the story in an author’s note.

==

The ride to B deck was silent. When she agreed to call him by name, Trip felt as if he had put one over on Hayes. To press his seeming advantage, Trip racked his brain for an elegant turn of phrase. The self-torture was wasted. His mind was blank.

He held his hand over the door sensor and allowed T’Pol to exit the lift. She responded to the gallantry with a nod of her head.

Their quarters were across the hall from each other. The pair loitered in the middle of the corridor awkwardly, neither sure of the proper way to end the encounter.

“Red becomes you.” Trip held his breath. She lingered, saying nothing. Boldly he ran a finger down the arm of her suit. “I’ve wanted to do that all evening.”

“Hayes felt the need to touch as well.” Her remark had the effect of a fire extinguisher. “Is the desire to touch so compelling for human males?”

“If you did not want to be touched, you should have chosen some other garment,” he advised her.

“How am I to tell the difference, between one garment and another?” Her question was whispered in his ear. He had held his ground when she stepped into his social space.

“Before you undress for the night,” he swallowed at the thought then continued to whisper, “Look in the mirror. Any clothing that makes you look the way you do right now will make a man want to touch you.”

“Good night, Trip.” She turned her back to enter her quarters.

“T’Pol?”

She turned around and waited.

“What is it with you and Hayes?” He hated himself for asking.

“I do not understand the question.”

Trip seethed. She stood before him calm and unruffled, waiting for his reply. T’Pol wielded silence like a weapon. Two could play that game. He set his jaw and waited.

At the point of combustion, she reentered his personal space, halting within a few millimeters of him. He could feel the heat her body radiated. For the first time, he noticed that her head was at the level of his jaw. The perfect height for pulling her into an embrace that tucked her head under his chin. He held his ground.

She leaned forward. The scent of her hair tickled his nose. He froze. If he moved, his cheek would come in contact with hers and he would no longer be responsible for his actions.

“He and I are as you and I are – colleagues – with everything and nothing in common.”

He turned his head, bringing his mouth down toward hers. Her lips parted ready for the implied kiss. A sigh escaped. He was uncertain from whom. He entered a holding pattern just before contact. When he spoke his lips brushed hers with the shape of his words.

“Does he make you feel like I make you feel?”

His tongue traced her upper lip for the briefest moment.

“You’re coiled inside like a tiger about to spring, T’Pol. Your skin feels too tight and there is an empty pit where your stomach used to be. You can feel the blood pumpin’ through your veins. You don’t want to meditate tonight, do ya T’Pol? Is Hayes goin’ to haunt your dreams like I do?”

Silence again, neither moved as their breaths mingled intimately.

Trip could not be sure, but he thought her cheek grazed his as she put her mouth to his ear, “Charles, are you projecting your feelings on me?”

Mesmerized by the question, he failed to notice that she had slipped her hands under his shirt. She pushed it and his undershirt up to expose his left breast. When he finally noticed, his blood pressure climbed alarmingly.

She laved his nipple with her tongue. He felt as if he had taken a left hook in his solar plexus. He gasped. She nipped and suckled, then let his shirt drop. He focused on the dampness her teasing had left behind, almost missing her final words.

“The Delphic Expanse is an unsettling place, Trip.”

She sounded almost wistful. As he processed the last few moments glued to the deck, she slipped inside her quarters.

==

“Hey, Doc.” The engineer announced his presence in sickbay, three days after the Delphic Dalliance.

“I’ll be right with you, Commander.” A few minutes later Phlox emerged from the supply room, carrying a tray of what appeared to be recently harvested plants.

“Am I interruptin’ feedin’ time again, Doc?” The grin he managed was half-hearted.

“It is always feeding time around here.” He dropped some of his burden into a cage. “Is this a social or professional visit?”

“Professional,” he admitted.

“Having trouble sleeping?”

Trip’s jaw dropped. “How did ya know?”

“It is the most common ailment among the crew at the moment.” He dumped the remainder of the plant material in another cage then placed the tray on a counter.

He turned his attention to his patient. “Please take a seat on the bio-bed.”

Phlox opened his mouth to present his diagnosis when the klaxon sounded. Archer’s voice thundered from the comm. panel.

“All hands to battle stations. The enemy has been sighted.”

“I’ll return later, Phlox,” was thrown over the engineer’s shoulder as he dashed for his station.”

==

Trip paused outside the door to the situation room to collect himself, so that when he entered it would not be apparent that he had scurried to his post.

He was the last to arrive. Archer sat at the head of the table. T’Pol sat to his right, Hayes to his left, in the chair that Trip thought of as his. Malcolm leaned against a bulkhead, his eyes fixed on the Captain. Travis occupied the only other chair in the room. He stood when he saw Trip.

“Take his, sir.”

“Thank you, Ensign, remain seated.” Trip flashed a smile in acknowledgement of the man’s courtesy.

Trip leaned against a bulkhead directly across from Malcolm, which gave him a perfect view of the faces of T’Pol and Hayes.

Archer wasted no time.

“We are about 6 light years from what we think is a Xindi scout ship disguised as a small freighter. T’Pol’s scans indicate it is generating more power than is reasonable for a freighter its size.”

He placed his palms flat on the table top.

“I am tired of inaction.” It was a major admission. “Major Hayes and I have examined our options and we have agreed that the best course of action is a small boarding party.”

Trip kept his eyes on T’Pol. Her face remained passive. Was she disheartened at the thought of her? - Her colleague participating in a life-threatening away mission?

==

Three hours later, the Chief Engineer and T’Pol stood on the bridge of Enterprise, watching two shuttles sail into space. They were in stationary orbit around an asteroid. The composition of the rock created communication channel interference, which they hoped would keep Enterprise and the shuttles hidden until the last possible moment.

“How do you feel about bein’ left behind, T’Pol?” His voice was low. The question directed at her alone.

“It was the logical course of action.” She took her place in the captain’s chair. “Engage, helmsman.”

Travis’ replacement took them out of orbit and into a long sweeping flight path that was intended to bring Enterprise into position behind the enemy.

“Commander,” T’Pol called from the chair.

He paused at the door to the lift.

“Would you join me for dinner in the Captain’s mess, twenty hundred?”

“I’m at your pleasure, ma’am.”

The curious bridge crew wondered if they had heard sarcasm in his reply.

==

Sweaty palms. Trip swore out loud. This isn’t a date. I’m having dinner with the acting captain to discuss ship’s business during a crisis. For Cochrane’s sake, Tucker, get a hold of yourself. Then his memory flashed to the feel of her mouth on his skin and he began to shake all over again.

Off-duty clothing was scattered around his quarters. He had tried on five combinations of casual clothing before settling on a knitted long sleeve t and unstructured drawstring trousers. He slipped his bare feet into a pair of soft moccasins. He looked in the mirror one more time. Satisfied that his appearance was nonchalant and ambiguous, he headed for the Captain’s mess.

To reach the Captain’s mess it was necessary to pass through the crew mess. At twenty hundred the hall was usually empty, with just a few stragglers lingering over coffee and dessert. Tonight it was packed with what Trip took to be every off duty crewman on the ship. He felt like one of Phlox’s specimens on exhibit as he crossed the room to announce his arrival at the comm. panel.

“Enter.”

T’Pol had changed too. She wore unstructured trousers in mint green. The drawstring rode under her belly button, which winked as she moved. The blouse she wore was made of the same material as the trousers. It buttoned strategically, although it was essentially open above and below. A scooped neck hinted at the roundness of her breasts. The sleeves left her arms bare from the elbow down.

Two places were set so that they sat at right angles to each other. Trip and she would have to turn slightly in their chairs to look directly at each other. Idly he thought that the positioning would make playing footsies with her easier.

“Do you think we have become fodder for ship’s gossip?” T’Pol’s question took Trip by surprise.

“I thought you were above ship’s gossip.”

He slipped into the chair, putting his back to the door. That was when he noticed that the angle of the chairs afforded them a view of the stars passing in the view port.

==

T’Pol had suggested that her companion try a cup of the tea that she favoured. He had agreed and was surprised to find it soothing at the end of a long day. They sat quietly sipping while the galley steward cleared the dishes.

“Thank you, Swensen. That will be all.”

When they were alone at last, Trip said, “He will be pumped for information tonight.”

“Swensen has proved he is capable of discretion.”

“Besides,” added the engineer, “There isn’t anything to tell now is there?” He refilled T’Pol’s teacup and his own.

“Do you wish there to be?”

Trip thought the deck had disappeared from under him.

End of Part 6


************


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Half a dozen of you have made comments

oh so it is the expanse..
the plot thickens..and the ball very much seems to be in trip's court about how far he will alow things to go since tpol may not be in total control.

Maybe it was just the expanse working between T'Pol and Hayes. Perhaps she's just now figured out that Trip has a bit of a thing for her.

This is certainly getting interesting.

Back into his/her personal space....THANK YOU! Damn how I've missed seeing them like that.
The rest is pretty darn good too.
;-)

First, I loved the apple juice and party hats scene a while ago.

Second, nice cliff hanger. I love the building tension between the two. It's so suspencful.

Looking forward to more!

Ooooh, things are starting to take a very definite and interesting turn. I am also curious about the amount of attention the rest of the crew seem to be paying our favourite couple. Is that the effect of the expanse on them too or are they just very nosy voyeuristic crew mates with too much time on their hands? Excellent, Ali D :~)

They're getting chummy, aren't they? But they can always blame it on the expanse. Makes for good reading, though, so please continue.