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Seek First...- Pt. 7

Author - Aquila
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Seek First to Understand

Part Seven

by Aquila

Rating: R
Category: Angst
Disclaimer: Thank you Berman and Braga for creating Trip Tucker. Thank you Connor Trinneer giving him life. Paramount do you own their souls too?
Summary: Spoilers, Alternate Universe, The effect of the Expanse on Trip, T’Pol and their professional relationship. Part Seven is told from T’Pol’s point of view.

==

5.5 hours later

His plan is audacious. It could succeed, if we have assistance. I encrypt the details and send it as an Alpha bulletin. ‘Stacking the deck’ I think is the phrase he would use.

“You don’t think we should try, do ya?” His tone was accusatory.

“Your plan is foolhardy, perhaps even suicidal, but I do not have an alternative to offer that has as much of a chance of succeeding as your plan, Commander.”

“Hot damn that sounds like the order to engage.” He grins. “It is not my intention to commit suicide. Just want to make that clear. I still need to know why you’ve been looking at me like a bowl of plomeek soup that you want to slurp right up.”

“We need to be in the vicinity of the enemy ship in .25 of an hour, Commander. Please put the shuttle’s power online.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I watch as he swivels the pilot’s chair into place and begins to conduct a preflight check. He is assured. His movements are economical and quick despite the gloves on his hands. I watch the play of muscles under his EV suit. In fifteen minutes we should be able to unlatch the helmets. We will not remove them as his plan hinges on our wearing the suits during its execution.

Until we are in a position to enter orbit, my task is to monitor for friend and foe. I am manning communications as well. He is the helmsman, navigator and pilot. We work well together, relying on each other to provide professional support in our assigned areas.

He is not the only one of the crew with whom I have a satisfactory working relationship. The Captain respects me, even relies on me. The doctor and I share a bond as resident aliens. Lieutenant Reed has an adolescent crush on my physical attributes, which hampers social exchanges, but does not impede working together. Ensign Sato has become a protégé. Mr. Mayweather and I interact adequately, although he is somewhat of cipher to me as I am to him, no doubt. Commander Tucker is not the only one of the crew with whom I have a satisfactory working relationship.

However he is the only one who is capable of disturbing my equilibrium. If I were prone to emotions I would say that frequently he exasperates and antagonizes me. Yet he inspires endless fascination to which he is oblivious. He was oblivious. Currently his perception is bordering on the uncanny and I am unsure of the best course of action to distract him.

I interrupt my musings with a life support report. We unlatch our helmets. He is visibly pleased to be breathing the recycled air of the shuttle rather than that produced by the EV. I do not understand his response as the composition and production of both is identical, proving once again my endless fascination with the contrary male, who is a pleasure to touch.
“We’re almost there, T’Pol. I’m going to use that asteroid over there as cover. Latch that helmet, so I can take as many of the systems off line as possible.” He pauses then finishes with “With respect, Sub commander.” A small concession to my rank, delivered with a touch of mirth in his eyes.

“As you wish, Commander.”

I wonder who during the initial moments of mating would be the aggressor, who would be in charge? Contrarily, there is a softness to him to which females react, yet the man appears to respond to strong females. Feisty is an adjective that comes to mind. His report of the incident in which a female impregnated him related enough details to imagine that her role in was that of aggressor. Then there was the princess. With her he took establishing relations with new species literally. That female also demonstrated a decisive character. Is that the key to seducing Charles Tucker? Take charge?

Am I seriously considering seducing the male? My control continues to slip.

“T’Pol?” His voice emitting from the comm system has an intimacy that sets my pulse pounding.

Rather than speak, my throat is constricted, I raise my head, making eye contact so that he understands that I am listening with great attention.

“We may die out here today.”

I wonder if we survive this situation whether recalling this situation will disturb his sleep? Would I know?

“Isn’t this an appropriate time to tell me what’s been eating at ya?”

His question is cajoling, with a touch of tenderness laced with bravado. He is contradictory to the end. It is my duty to reassure him that we will not expire.

“The Expanse affects Vulcan physiology. It erodes our emotional control, which can lead to mental imbalance.” Does he hear the fear? “I am developing a compelling appetite for sensual activities, which appears to manifest itself most strongly when I am in your presence. I apologize if my…interest…has made you uncomfortable. When we are once again on board Enterprise I will do my utmost to contain it.”

“T’Pol,” he whispers, “If it helps, next time you have an appetite, let me know. I get hungry too. Satisfying our appetites together is bound to be more pleasurable than satisfying them alone.”

He throws me a kiss from the pilot’s chair and I am suddenly ravenous.

End of Part Seven


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