No More Blackened Catfish...Pt 7

No More Blackened Catfish or Pecan Pie*

By Aquila

Part 7

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.

==

T’Pol had always been either direct or devoid of comment. Trip knew that. There was no middle ground, where idle chatter and imaginative speculation could be indulged.

“Curiosity about the other half finally get to ya, T’Pol?” He asked the question to cover his confusion.

“I am sufficiently curious to have asked the question.” She ran her index finger along the top of his thigh.

“Curious how?” He tried to control the twitch her touch had sparked. “Bill Clinton curious? Or full body contact curious?”

His historical reference was obscure enough to distract her momentarily, giving him time to regain control of his libido.

“Would one be less pleasurable than the other?” Now she was drawing circles on his thigh with her finger.

Trip saw an opening and took it. “Think of how you respond to Hayes and how you respond to me – physically I mean.”

She mused over the comparison. “Who is who?”

Trip hit home, “Hayes would be Clinton.” He did not finish the comparison.

“There is something to be said for both,” admitted the acting captain.

That was not what Tucker wanted to hear. However she appeared to be willing to talk about her relationship with Hayes. No battle could be won without intelligence so he asked the question that he preferred not to know the answer to.

“What would you have to say about us?”

While she reflected for a moment, Trip slid his hand under her blouse and was startled to find she wore no undergarments. Instead of drawing back, he cupped the breast closest to him. He ran his thumb back and forth across the nipple. It pebbled under his caress. Her breath caught with pleasure. Her hand fell still as she lost herself in the sensation.

“What would you say about us, T’Pol?” Without stopping his caress he leaned in and nuzzled the pulse point on her neck that had tempted him before.

“Hayes is ice and you are fire. He is controlled, you are rash. With him I discuss poetry and philosophy. With you, I bicker. He treats me like a piece of museum porcelain too precious to hold.” She gasped as Trip’s lips replaced his thumb. “You pretend to ignore me, yet look at me with possessive eyes smoldering with lust.”

Trip rolled her breast in his mouth then suckled sharply. She moaned with pleasure, running her hands through his hair, before placing a kiss on the top of his head.

He released her, pulling away, so that he could transfer his attention to her mouth, which she willingly surrendered. Still not close enough to satisfy his hunger, he pulled her into his lap. He broke the kiss to inhale. She rested her forehead on his. They were breathing hard.

“Hayes may play cool, but he wants you in his bed.” Trip pushed her blouse back into place, then kissed the nippled garment.

“More than that” T’Pol sighed into his ear.

“He wants more from you than intercourse?” His head shot up in surprise.

“He asked me to marry him,” T’Pol confessed.

“He’s known you all of six weeks!” Consumed by fear, he asked, “Did you give him an answer?”

“I told him I was prepared to be wooed and won.” T’Pol put her index finger to Trip’s lip, “I told him that he would have to risk rejection if he wished to win me. Victory was not certain.”

“No wonder he’s been strutting around you like a Fleet admiral on Decoration Day.” Trip buried his head between her breasts. “He thinks you’re just playing hard to get. Do you want to marry him, T’Pol?” The evening was laced with landmines and painful questions.

“I do not know.”

Trip clung to her doubt like a drowning man to a life preserver.

“How do I fit into all of this, T’Pol?” His delivered his question a breath away from her ear. “Are you using me to keep that overconfident, arrogant, poetry spoutin’ bastard in his place?”

“I do not know.” She put her finger on his lips again. “You have never declared your intentions.”

“Honey, you’re sitting on my intentions. Can’t you feel it?” He pressed his groin into her bottom.

“To you then I am merely an outlet for sexual tension?” She slid off his lap and moved to stand by the view port. “I think it is best that you go, Commander.”

==

By the time the boarding party had returned in triumph, Trip realized he had made a tactical error in his unexplored relationship with T’Pol.

With sinking heart, he watched Hayes wrap his arm around T’Pol’s shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When she did not pull away in protest at his public display of affection, he knew he had lost a major battle. Did he want to win the war? Or to put it in terms T’Pol would understand -- was he prepared to declare war?

We haven’t even dated he reminded himself. With a modicum of pride she admitted that he reached second base faster than Hayes. That doesn’t mean we would be contemplatin’ anything as permanent as marriage. She only started callin’ me by my first name four days ago.

“Trip?”

The engineer was embarrassed to find he was at the centre of attention, surrounded by the welcoming committee and the boarding party.

“I’m sorry, Cap’n,” he mumbled, “What did you say?”

“Phlox says that he must meet with us right away. It is urgent.” Archer began to move toward sick bay. “Are you coming?”

“Can’t it wait?” Trip had been avoiding the doctor since the klaxon sounded. “You’ve only just got back.”

“No it can’t,” Archer stated firmly, “I have a minor wound that needs tending. So we’ll take care of ship’s business and my scratch at the same time.”

==

Phlox rolled down Archer’s sleeve when he was satisfied the wound was cauterized properly.

“What was so urgent that it required the immediate attention of me and the Chief Engineer? Is your microscope malfunctioning?”

Phlox pursed his lips, “The crew is malfunctioning, perhaps deteriorating is a better word.”

His clipped and worried manner captured Archer’s attention. “Explain.”

“Commander Tucker came to see me just before the klaxon sounded the other day.” Phlox turned to include Trip in the conversation. “He was having difficulty sleeping. He was not the only one to report the problem.”

“We are all under extraordinary stress, Doc.” Trip interjected.

“More than you know, Commander.”

“Please, Doctor,” Archer was exasperated. “What or how is the crew being affected adversely?”

“The expanse does not only affect Vulcans, but Humans as well.”

“My crew is going mad?” Archer was horrified.

“No Captain,” Phlox took a breath, “They are losing their inhibitions.”

“The most serious cases are the most stable members of the crew.” Phlox looked at Trip when he continued, “Commander Tucker’s uninhibited personality appears to be the least affected, but he is not immune.”

“Doc, that’s the first time Starfleet has considered that aspect of my personality an asset.” He grinned.

Archer sobered them all, “What is it doing to T’Pol and Hayes then?”

End of Part 7

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

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