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Three Months- Pt 2Three Months Later By Aquila Part Two
Summary: Tension is growing in the Delphic Expanse. Enterprise is a powder keg of emotion. == “You asked to see me, Doctor?” The Captain of the Enterprise loped into sickbay, trying to maintain a relaxed and unconcerned façade. He knew that if he found managing his personal frustration difficult, his crew must be finding it difficult also. “Thank you, Captain, for responding to my request so promptly. Please follow me.” Archer had come to count on Dr. Phlox to be a constant, if somewhat irritating, source of good cheer. The captain interpreted his lack of a smile and good-natured chatter as a harbinger of bad news. When Phlox was satisfied that he and the captain were away from prying eyes and straining ears, he began his report. He kept his voice low and his back turned to his lab assistants. What he had to say was for the Captain’s ears only. == Colonel Chu dismissed his troops, then bellowed to the figure lurking in the shadows of the catwalk high above, “Are you lost, Lieutenant?” Malcolm jumped, then reddened with embarrassment that he had been caught off guard. As a boy he had captured a garden rodent by shining a torch light in its eyes one moonless night in June. He responded to Chu’s bellow the same way that the rodent had responded to the light from the torch. He froze. == The ambition of Travis Mayweather to become first helmsman of the NX-01 had consumed him from the moment he had arrived at Starfleet Academy. His early life on an interplanetary freighter had prepared him for close quarters and the lack of privacy of dormitory life. He was affable and athletic, so the male cadets respected him. The female cadets were intrigued by his good looks and winning smile. He showed no favoritism, treating every one, male and female alike. During the two years he had been aboard Enterprise, he had formed a casual social network, much like the one he had developed at the Academy. Life was simple – fly, eat and sleep. Or at least it had been, until she joined the crew. == “He wants something he cannot have.” T’Pol’s words ricocheted about his brain, setting off a chain reaction of desire, hope and despair. With one hand he stroked her hair, the other he trailed down her spine. Her right cheek rested on his naked chest. She had slipped her arms under his, so that she could stroke the back of his neck. Her cat-suit covered breasts pressed against his rib cage. Her thighs radiated heat, warming his uniformed hips to an uncomfortable level. “What do you want, darlin’?” In a universe of uncertainty, he needed something concrete to hold in his heart. == “Have you any suggestions, Doctor?” Archer asked the unnecessary question. Phlox would not have discussed the situation with him, unless he had solutions that he wanted to present. “More a scenario I wish to paint, than a solution, Captain.” Archer pulled a chair out from under a workstation. This was going to take some time. == “Bolitho or Hornblower?” was the colonel’s surprising question, when at last the lieutenant was standing at attention on the deck in front of him. “Actually, Jack Aubrey, Sir.” Chu grinned. He was a Bolitho man himself, but Aubrey would have been his second choice. == He could hear the pounding of her feet on the deck as she approached. His heart kept pace with the sound. She rounded the corner, her arms pumping, head forward to counter the resistance. She smiled when she saw him, hip shot, waiting patiently for her. Damn that smile, Travis cursed to himself at the same time he felt his face break of its own accord into an answering grin. He felt the smile travel upward to his eyes. I must look ridiculous, standing here grinning at nothing. He chastised himself silently. Ensign Pat Cannington did not think he looked ridiculous. To her, a grinning and pumped Travis Mayweather, waiting patiently for her to arrive, was like docking a shuttle in the mother ship after a long away mission, comfortable, warm and full of possibilities. She had heard of him, of course. What Boomer hadn’t? Mayweather the first Boomer to enter Starfleet Academy. The first Boomer to become a Starfleet helmsman. Mayweather – hand picked by Jonathan Archer to be First Helmsman of Enterprise. What she had not heard was that he was handsome, gifted, and married to his career. She had discovered that for herself. == No one had ever asked her what she wanted, no one except Charles Tucker. More importantly, when he asked the question he wanted to know the answer. Until she had met Charles, she had never asked herself the question. Finding an answer had been a two-year struggle. T’Pol rose to a sitting position. Trip put his hands under his head unconsciously displaying his chest in its most tempting form. T’Pol resisted the urge to touch. “Charles, I have something to show you.” He opened his mouth to protest. “No, Charles, I do intend to answer your question. Do you not have a saying, a picture is worth a thousand words?” Tucker nodded, intrigued. “What I have to show you is not a picture, Charles.” She wanted to be completely clear. “Although I believe it will speak volumes.” Trip watched mesmerized as she undid the zipper of her cat-suit. She was not being provocative. He could tell the difference, which he realized told him more about their relationship than anything had until that moment. T’Pol drew her arms out, so that her upper body was clad only in standard issue Starfleet skivvies. She pushed the upper portion of the cat-suit down, exposing the top of her shorts. For Trip she was a picture of disheveled wantonness. He stored the image to fuel future fantasies. The Vulcan pulled her undershirt up and pushed her shorts down. Her abdomen was bared. Trip’s heart stopped. Half way between her pelvic bone on either side of her belly button a lump had formed. Instinctively he reached out. T’Pol’s calm was shattered when he placed his hands in the traditional position. Where had he learned to do that? Trip placed a thumb on each mass, as his fingers grasped her hips. His fingertips rested on her soft cheek muscles. Her pulse pounded in anticipation as she waited for his next move. Would he know what to do? Would he understand the significance if he did? Her throat constricted with anxiety. Tears trickled from the corners of his eyes. Trip had never been so afraid of making a mistake in his life. He closed his eyes tight, in an attempt to recall all he had read. As he squeezed more tears ran across his temples. Slowly, he began to rotate his thumbs, rubbing the skin that covered the lumps gently, delicately. With his fingers, he tugged T’Pol forward, so that he had greater purchase on her hips. When he was certain he had a firm grip, he pressed down on the lumps. His touch was firm and steady. He felt nothing but the soft skin and the hard lump under it. So he increased the pressure. T’Pol began to moan, so he pressed harder. She threw her head back and tried to squirm out of his grasp. He would not let her go, increasing the pressure, worried that his human strength was insufficient. He reduced the pressure, so that he could rub this skin with his thumbs, once again. T’Pol moaned. He thought it might be a combination of relief and regret. “T’Pol, has this ever happened before?” He had to know. “T’Pol, tell me, please.” She looked down at him. Her eyes slightly out of focus. “No Charles, never.” He didn’t know what to say, so he showed her. He pushed down, hard, with his thumbs. He felt the snap before he heard it. She cried out as she writhed, but he held on, knowing that to let go now might damage her. When her cry had turned to moans, he began to apply pressure with his thumbs, steadily, slowly. He could feel the difference under the soft skin, what had once been hard, was now malleable. With his thumb he pushed the masses about, beginning a circular motion. “That feels so good. Please do not stop.” This time, when she cried out, it was with satisfaction and pleasure. == “Aubrey was a rake, Sir.” Lieutenant Reed hoped that the Colonel did not think that he, Malcolm, lived vicariously through Aubrey. “Yes, he was Mr. Reed.” Chu grinned. “Bolitho had his share of dalliances.” “Yes, but he always seemed to be surprised by them, Sir.” Chu slapped the Armoury Officer on the back. So Reed liked to be in control. == While she bent double, blowing hard after her run, Cannington looked about her. Travis and she were alone in the corridor. Still heaving, she straightened. She was pleased to see Mayweather’s eyes were watching the rise and fall of her chest. She used his distraction to her advantage. Travis was surprised to find himself sandwiched between the hard bulkhead and the soft body of Ensign Cannington. He could not recall the reg’ that covered this situation. Pat clarified the situation for him with a “who cares about the fraternization rules” kiss. She had his attention, so she started to back away, without breaking the embrace. He followed enthusiastically. She slapped at the door switch, then backed into her quarters, pulling a willing Travis in with her. == Trip released his grip, pulling her down to lie on his chest, cradled in his arms. He put his mouth to her ear. “There is more to the ritual, isn’t there?” He wanted to get this right, because this happened only once in a Vulcan female’s life. “Yes, but the implications are,” her words were puffs of warm air on his skin. “Permanent, irrevocable, not without consequences.” He ran a finger around the outer edge of her ear, coming to a stop on her lobe. She shivered, “You could be court-martialed.” “You would lose your Science Directorate privileges – unless of course you could convince them you were conducting an interspecies compatibility study.” Trip grinned. She struggled to sit, pulling Trip with her. His legs splayed to allow her bottom to rest on the deck. Her legs crossed over his thighs. Her heels rested on the deck behind him. He held his hands between them. The first two fingers held tightly together, palms up. She accepted his invitation, placing her corresponding fingers on his. He created a slow, sensuous friction with his fingertips. “Charles, please.” Blood rushed to her belly. “Anythin’, anytime T’Pol,” Trip whispered, “All you have to do is ask.” *************** Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS! No one has made comments |