No More Blackened Catfish...Pt 8

No More Blackened Catfish or Pecan Pie*

By Aquila

Part 8 ( Conclusion)

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 three of them silently contemplated the impact of the condition on the crew, themselves and their mission.

Trip at last had an explanation for T’Pol’s change in behaviour. He had a different context for Hayes speedy proposal and pursuit of her. Was his newly revealed desire for T’Pol suspect too?

Archer, who knew himself very well, was the first to speak. “Do you have a way to treat this problem?”

“The deterioration parallels some diseases of the brain. I have been attempting to adapt known treatments.”

“Attemptin’ tells me you haven’t succeeded.” Trip’s comment was accurate and unsettling. “No criticism implied, Doc.”

“None taken,” he sighed, “I had hoped to have the answer by your return, Captain.”

“Do I put myself under house arrest and make Trip the acting captain?”

Trip blanched at Archer’s question. The Captain had already decided that T’Pol could not be trusted in command.

Phlox answered the question, “Until I know more about the deterioration, I think it would be wise, Captain.”

Archer opened his mouth to speak, but Trip beat him to it.

“Let me tell T’Pol, Cap’n, before you make this official to the rest of the crew. You stay here with Phlox until I get back.” He saw the conflict in Archer’s eyes. “Please, Jon.”

==

“Tucker to T’Pol.” Trip tried to keep panic from his voice as he used the comm. unit. “Tucker to T’Pol.”

“T’Pol here Commander.”

Trip thought she sounded slightly out of breath and irritated by his page.

“Something has come up that needs your attention. Please meet me in your quarters.”

“I am in my quarters, but occupied.” Trip could have sworn he heard a snort in the background.

“Hayes, you’ll thank me for this later. Go to your quarters immediately. Alone. I will explain the situation to you, once I have informed T’Pol.” He heard giggling. “Please don’t get the Captain involved in this.”

His appeal to their respect for discipline appeared to work.

“Commander, your interruption had better be warranted.” T’Pol was not amused.

==

Moving from sick bay to the officers’ quarters did not give Trip much time to reflect on the validity of his own heightened feelings for T’Pol. When he requested permission to enter, his confusion had not lessened.

The dimmed cabin lights obscured his vision. He halted inside the door, to wait for his eyes to adjust.

“Over here, Charles.”

Charles not Trip, Tucker noted. She had only used his real name on one occasion. A pleasurable occasion if he recalled correctly. A highly inappropriate occasion he reminded himself.

She reclined on her bunk. One reading light illuminated the area. Her hair was disheveled. Her generous lips pouted. Were they swollen? Her hand tugged on the zipper of her suit, pulling it down, down, down. With her free hand she patted a spot on the bunk at her side.

Rather than argue, he sat, one haunch on the spot, the other suspended in the air. The discomfort of his position kept him focused on the task at hand, rather than the wanton siren with desire in her eyes.

“You were correct,” she raised her free hand to his cheek, “Hayes does have a carnal interest in me.”

“Did you take advantage of his interest?” How he proceeded depended on her answer.

“It is impolite to kiss and tell.”

Was that a smirk, Trip wondered? “Yes darlin’, it is. But I have to know. It is really important.” He could see the hesitation in her eyes. “I promise that your answer will never be repeated.”

She trusted in his already proven sense of honour and discretion. “Nothing as intimate as what has transpired between us has occurred.” Then she added accusingly, “Because you interrupted us.”

She drew apart the fabric of her bodice, releasing her breasts. “I have missed your caress, Charles.”

Always direct. Always honest. Always T’Pol. He responded in kind, “Darlin’ I haven’t had a wink of sleep for nights that didn’t come with a dream of me makin’ love to you.”

“Do you need more of an invitation, Charles?”

Charles again. It would not be long before all she would have to do is say his name and his manhood would automatically leap to attention, he thought.

“T’Pol, darlin’, any more of an invitation will shred what little control I have left.” He placed one hand on either side of her face. “Concentrate, T’Pol. I need you to concentrate. Please.”

T’Pol used his proximity to attempt to swallow him whole. He tried to resist, but failed. The kiss was searing. Tongues dueled. Teeth clashed. Then the storm abated and the kiss became tender and full of promise.

Reluctantly Tucker pulled away, his breath ragged, his heart pounding, “T’Pol, you have no idea how I wish I could trust your feelin’s and mine right now.”

The tears that sparkled in his eyes called back T’Pol’s control. She shuddered in the attempt. She breathed deeply to steady herself.

“You are on ship’s business.”

“Yes, T’Pol,” he felt bereft as she cut him off from her emotions. “The Captain has placed himself under house arrest and has put me in command.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I should be in command.”

“Yes, you should, but you are suffering from the effects of the Expanse, just as he is.” He stood, chilled by the distance between them.

“The Expanse affects humans?”

She was horrified. T’Pol could live with the fear of what the region would do to her as a Vulcan, because she was surrounded by beings that would remain unaffected.

“Are you not affected?” Trip admired her astuteness.

“Slightly, but the doc says that my uninhibited personality protects me.” He grinned wryly.

“At last a positive use of your impulsive, unpredictable, and disarming behaviour.”

“Disarmin’?”

He cocked his head on one side. That thought might be worth exploring, but not now. He gently pulled her zipper closed. He combed her hair with his fingers and placed a kiss on her nose.

“Phlox is working on a substance to control the condition. You, the Captain and Hayes are confined to your quarters until we get this thing under control. The official announcement will be made as soon as I get back to sickbay.”

T’Pol shifted on the bunk so that her feet were on the floor. “So everything that I have felt for the past six weeks was induced by the Expanse? Everything Hayes felt?” She looked up at him, “And you?”

“I cannot speak for you or Hayes, but I’m not willing to blame everything on the Expanse.”

She took comfort in his reply. “Thank you, Commander.”

He knelt, resting on his heels, “T’Pol?” He took her hands in his. “Nothing would have happened – nothing - if there hadn’t been something already there.” He had not known the truth of his statement until he said it.

“I have much to think about, Commander.”

“As do I, T’Pol, as do I.”

The End

*I attended an interactive session with Connor Trinneer last week. When I asked how the harmonica had become part of Trip’s character canon, he told a funny story. It was, however, the punch line that inspired this piece. “I told them that I never wanted to see the harmonica, blackened catfish or pecan pie ever again.” He meant, of course, in a script in reference to Trip.

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

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Oh, Aquila. That doesn't feel like the end of the story to *me.* I sure hope you're planning a sequel

I'm sure she just meant The End For Now, More To Come.

I love your stories!! And I agree with others when they say this can't be the end of the story?!? I know you got another story line up you sleeve, right?

That was a superb little ending, very honest and truthful. Of course, I too am wondering what's gonna happen next.

Oh my goodness...you've left them all with an itch they can't scratch! Please write a sequel to relieve everyone's sexual tension (readers included!)

Very good indeed but I cannot believe this is the end of the story. I want to see how they deal with managing this condition and how Trip and T'Pol progress from here. Great story, thank you so much! Ali D :~)

Terrific story and I agree with the others - Sequel! Sequel! Sequel! The author's note at the end (explaining the title) was great too; I think I read something similar in a magazine interview with Connor. I guess the whole Southern stereotype (catfish and pecan pie) does get a bid old.

No no no nononononononono. That sooooo cannot be the end. It just doesn't work like that. Please tell me there's something else there. There has to be. No solution? Hayes surrenders to Trip? I'm waiting for a proper ending here. In all seriousness, it didn't seem like an end.

i see a sequel in our futures...

Great story…off to read the sequel now.

Apparently, giving away Trip's harmonica in "North Star" was a nod to Conner's wishes. Nice story -- On to the sequel...