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The Satin Expanse
Author - drdel | Genre - Angst | Genre - Humor | Genre - UST | Main Story | Rating - R | S | T
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The Satin Expanse
Rating: No idea really; --R?, Genre: hmmm..Angst? Romance? Drama? UST? Humor? Somewhere in there I guess.
Trip stood motionless under the shower nozzle, head drooped on his chest. Hot water cascaded down his body, washing away the last bits of Trellium-D, and hell knew how many species’ excreta, from his hair and skin. He’d already scrubbed his nails ferociously for about the tenth time till the quicks were nearly bleeding. He wished his jumbled emotions would swirl away down the drain with the same ease the water did!
*Damn! Damn the Xindi! Damn Phlox! And damn T’Pol too!* Tucker raged inwardly at the enemy who had turned his personal world inside out, but fumed as well at the two connivers who’d managed, no matter how well-meaning, to introduce a tangent to his focused revenge. The last thing he wanted right now was the diversion of feeling like a complete idiot, nor did he want to be reminded about ideas and feelings he’d tried to put to rest. He didn’t want his drive for vengeance diluted, but there it was.
"Little Vulcan witch!" he muttered grumpily. “Played me like a damn harmonica! When the hell did she learn how to push my buttons like that?! And Phlox! What about all that patient-doctor confidentiality spiel? Damned aliens wouldn’t you know? In cahoots. Can’t trust any of’em!”
Tucker was at base a fair man though. He grudgingly admitted to himself that Phlox was right. The helpless nightmares about Lizzie were terrible, but he simply could not keep trying to do his job while sleeping on drugs. It had definitely taken some toll on his mental processing and self-control. Look at his uncontrolled rage at the Xindi miner, not to mention the ridiculous assumption he’d jumped to about T’Pol’s motives! A flush spread up his chest to his ears. The neuropressure, once applied, did help ease the tension he’d been carrying between his shoulders but that whole scene in the Subcommander’s quarters … Tucker shook his head, squeezed his eyes tightly, and jeered at himself, *Okay, I was dead tired, but could I have made a dorkier mistake?! *
“Dammit Tucker,” he berated himself sarcastically under the shower blast, “next time she says take off your clothes; strip, keep your mouth shut, don’t let her goad you into an argument and just do whatever the hell she tells you! You won’t have any time to put your foot in your mouth and it’ll be a hell of a lot less embarrassing that way! And keep in mind that she’s a Vulcan! Just think of her the same way you would of old stick-up-the-butt Soval!”
A derisive snort came from somewhere within.. *oh yeah she’s a Vulcan like Soval, riiiight… with a body like Venus. And just what was that little kitten sigh all about?! No feelings my southern ass! If that wasn’t satisfaction, I’ll eat my--* Tucker frantically interrupted that train of thought, “Ohhh no! Nope, no..NO! We aren’t going there! I WILL NOT think about that!”
Too late. The vision rose up behind his closed lids.
Trip groaned faintly ‘Awww damn!’, and leaned his head against the shower tiles, reluctantly recalling the way she’d deftly slipped the little silky pyjama top completely out of the way. He’d nearly swallowed his tongue when confronted with the light and shadows playing across the pale, gleaming sculpture of her exquisitely molded back, bare all the way down that sensuous curve to two sweet little dimples. The shimmering robe she’d been wrapped in would have been stroke-able enough. He was right about that he noted sourly. She DID look good in silk, whatever brand it was. However, it looked like a coarse rag compared to the naked, warm, satiny expanse suddenly under his hands.
‘Hell’, he swallowed convulsively, experiencing a sudden crazy notion about how much he’d like to brush his lips all over that lovely glowing, satin surface. The events of the past couple of months had completely overshadowed the speculative curiosity he used to entertain about their beautiful first officer. After working with her for two years, he’d pretty much concluded that the sort of private thoughts that crossed his mind at times, never came within hailing distance of her alien psyche. He’d been concerned, but also surprised when she mentioned her REM sleep disruption. He knew Vulcans didn’t need the same amount of sleep humans did. He wondered what on earth a Vulcan would dream about. Certainly not the kind of raw, and sometimes raunchy, graphic emotions he did. Probably they dreamt about knotty dilemmas in physics or something like that. The fiasco in her quarters had brought a lot of earlier things flooding back, unfortunately. He was reminded that he’d touched her before, but he’d been so angry at her at the time, only part of him had taken note of the supple sensuous texture under his fingers.
The same part was beginning to strain for some attention now. Tucker cracked an eye open and cast a glance south. “Oh yeah you, ya little traitor! Yah .. her body talks to you all right, doesn’t it buddy....unnhh’” he sighed loudly again, and proceeded to attend to his basic need. He applied pressure, groaning a little at the swelling pleasure, *Yes indeed, harder, oh man, you and me could definitely press harder couldn’t we? Harder?* he sucked in his breath sharply, *Yes ma’am, no problem… harder, faster, slower, deeper, whatever you want darlin'. One Trip Tucker REM Reliever, comin’ up honey! You’ll sleep like a baby, I promise! * His breathing roughened.
His exhaled explosively and he finished with one last hard squeeze as his hips jerked forward. He stood for a minute longer rinsing, then climbed out and dried off in a cursory fashion. He climbed wearily under his covers, still damp with a second, dry towel wrapped around his hips. His jumbled thoughts slowed to a crawl behind his closed lids. He smiled a little against his pillow, * She seemed to like that back thing...aw hell, I can do that for her. T’Pol’s all right really…she’s been pretty trustworthy in a pinch when you get right down to it…don’t mind having her backing me up… heh, wouldn’t mind having her at my front either about now……she doesn’t even know she’s hot… not her fault really….*
The smile curved into a slightly wicked sleepy grin, * Should really turn the tables on that little minx. Wonder what she’d say if I pointed out that logically, she should consider relieving my tension the human way. Not like she doesn’t know about that.. Ha! Like to see Little Miss Logic squirm her way outta that one… she’s big on logic. Yeah….*
He’d slept six hours straight.
He gave a short laugh, “I’ll be damned.”
Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!
A whole mess of folks have made comments
Ah,this *so* works for me.
Well, I'll be damned - this story worked so well. Look forward to more.
Wonderful story - I loved how Trip's emotions come through.
This was a nice story about Trip's jumbled thoughts and emotions post-ep. I really enjoyed it. And I'd love to see him recommend that she help him relieve tension the human way! LOL.
Nice job. This really fits Trip!
I really enjoyed this, I could so easily imagine this going through Trip's mind and it was so funny in places too. Loved the 'little Miss logic' label. Thanks for a great story, Ali D :~)
Yup, does it for me! Trip shower scenes always do. Thanks.
Thanks to all for the kind feedback. So glad you enjoyed it...I certainly had fun writing it! I do have a vague idea forming in me consciousness for a little chaser..will work on it ;-)
Lol. Very nice story. It worked well. Anything else to add?
Perfectly Trip! Thanks for making me smile :-)
*tracy tosses the towel to the side, after drying herself off after a very cold shower*
Oh yes! Oh my does that work on so many levels.
I'm going back and reading all these stories I missed. Naughty, naughty - I love it, and it sounds so like Trip.