If you are seeing this paragraph, the site is not displaying correctly. You can see the content, but your current browser does not support CSS which is necessary to view our site properly. For the best visual experience, you will need to upgrade your browser to Netscape 6.0 or higher, MSIE 5.5 or higher, or Opera 3.6 or higher. If, however, you don't wish to upgrade your browser, scroll down and read the content - everything is still visible, it just doesn't look as pretty.
Author - Evalyn A. | Genre - Romance | Genre - Vignette | Main Story | Rating - PG | W
Fan Fiction Main Page | Stories sorted by title, author, genre, and rating
By Evalyn A
How the hell did this happen?
The ship’s in pieces, and every time we put something back together something else falls apart. So much damage. So many dead. Dammit, I haven’t got time for this.
I was towelling off after the quick shower I’d taken. Three days of grime was just too much to bear, and the water recycling systems were back on-line. I was thinking back on the day’s events, and despite myself, I was reliving that conversation with T’Pol in the corridor. That was when it hit me.
It was like I’d been punched in the gut and couldn’t get a breath. It was that feeling you have when you suddenly realize you’ve fallen for someone hard, and you know it’s a piss-poor idea – maybe you’ve already got someone, or they have, or you know they just couldn’t feel the way you do.
I knew we weren’t likely to cross that line again, she and I, the one we’d crossed in her quarters that night – she’d made that abundantly clear. And yet I couldn’t stop the rush in my blood, I didn’t even want to, my head spinning as I leaned against the wall of the shower, dripping wet. God, I needed her like I’d never needed anyone before.
I’d cried in front of her, yet I hadn’t felt embarrassed or foolish. Instead I realized that I’d wanted her to hold me and make me feel like I was worth something to someone again. One of life’s little jokes, I guess. If you’d told me any of this could happen that first day she stepped on Enterprise and gave me that supercilious Vulcan stare, I’d have laughed out loud … and yet, even then, there was something between us. Did she feel it too? Was that why we fought so much? Because we knew if we ever stopped fighting, then … this would happen.
I’d made my way to my bunk. My brain was buzzing from too much caffeine and way too little sleep, my muscles were aching from the abuse they’d taken. My stomach was in knots, and my throat was so tight I could hardly swallow. I stared at the ceiling and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.
So here I am, after a few hours of restless tossing and turning, asking myself … why now, when I need my focus more than ever before, to try to improve that slim chance we’ve got to get out of this one alive?
I drag myself out of bed. I splash a bit of cold water on my face, and apply some toothpaste to the furry animal that seems to have taken up permanent residence in my mouth. The caffeine buzz hasn’t worn off yet – must have had 8 or 9 cups of really bad coffee yesterday. Can’t keep going like this. I’ll take a nap this afternoon if I have to, or visit Phlox for some good old-fashioned knockout drops. No neuropressure, though, not a chance.
I wend my way down the hall to the mess, past piles of debris and scattered repair teams. And guess who’s there, sitting at our table. Is she waiting for me? I grab a cup of decaf and a bagel and head over, trying to keep it casual, knowing that if I don’t sit with her it’ll look odd.
“Mornin’, T’Pol,” I say cheerfully, taking a sip from my coffee and sitting down.
“Good morning, commander,” she replies. God, she looks tired, those blue rims around her eyes are getting worse. Almost as tired as me. And yet still she looks gorgeous …
“Sleep well?” I ask, naďvely thinking insomnia to be a safe conversational gambit.
“Not particularly,” she replies. “Vulcans are creatures of habit, and my routine has been anything but normal these last few days. I was, in fact, hoping we could share a neuropressure session this evening. It would return us to some routine and probably help us both sleep.”
Damn! It’s supposed to be her offering to give me a session, which I could make some sort of excuse to get out of; she isn’t supposed to be asking me for help too. How do I say no to that?
“I don’t know if I’d be much help, T’Pol, I’m pretty useless at the moment and you know I’m not that good at it really,” I mumble incoherently around a bite of bagel.
She raises her eyebrows to me. “Commander, I have never known you to be modest before. I have found your skills to be more than adequate under my supervision.”
Damn again! I feel my colour rising. Surely she didn’t realize the double entendre she’d just made. And yet she’s looking over her cup at me with a sidelong glance that says she knows exactly what she’s said, and what I’ll be thinking.
My ears buzz and my mouth goes dry. My heart starts to race, and I can’t take my eyes off her. “T’Pol,” I find myself saying, “If I go to your quarters tonight I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop at neuropressure.”
“Indeed,” she replies, her eyes skittering away. “Well, perhaps you will change your mind about that … I have much to tell you. Regardless …” she stands up and drains her cup of tea, “… we had better allow extra time. I will see you there at 1900.” And she walks out of the mess with that smooth, controlled walk she has that reminds me of a tiger stalking its prey.
Much to tell me? I watch her go, my cup halfway to my mouth, my brain going around in circles. We’ve got two days till we reach the subspace corridor – maybe if we’re lucky two days with no hostile aliens, no emergency staff meetings. And on the other side of that corridor a good chance of an early death.
I know it’s selfish, and senseless, and probably unwise. But I also know that I’m going to spend every last second that I can safely squeeze out over the next two days, trying to get closer to this fabulously infuriating, breathtaking, vital woman who’s reached my soul like no other woman ever has.
Because I fear they’ll be the last seconds we get.
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
Wonderful... just wonderful.
Nyah! Lovely, wonderful...when do we get the sequal! :D
(only kidding, I'm in no mood to nag after reading this!)
Wow! Great! So where´s part 2? ;-)))
You know, I get really testy with fan fic writers who INSIST on putting "...end", or "The End" or "fini" or "conclusion" at the bottom of what is obviously only the first installment of a story!!!
Come on, Evalyn, you can't do this to us!!! You KNOW this story is just crying out for the neuropressure scene!!! We're all (well, at least I am) anxiously awaiting for T'Pol to open up to Trip!!
Please??? Pretty Please???? PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE...with a cherry on top...write T'Pol's point of view!!!! PLEASE???
(Is that enough begging to make up for Clicks' not begging for more????)
I am not too proud to beg. This was a fun, witty piece. I love seeing a man totally bedazzled by a woman. Trip doesn't know whether he's coming or going, and T'Pol only spins him some more w/ her insistence they have a session. Vulcan seduction... you have to write the. Please w/ cherries on top. :P
I love little fics like this. It's short scenes like these that I wish we would see more of on Enterprise. Thank you for gifting us with it. Good stuff!
Tis was wonderful thank you for doing Trip's point of view after the Forgotten.I really hope you'll do a second part and have T'Pol's point of view and explain her problems to Trip that would make for excellent story material.
Great story! I gotta read part 2 ;)
Oh Wow, this is brilliant! Loved it to bits and am hoping there is going to be a sequel - hint, hint. I'll beg if I have to. Very good and very much crying out for more, Ali D :~)
....end!!! Oh no I don't think so! I think you meant ...tbc.... that's what you mean to type.
Loved the look in Harbinger over her tea cup at Trip and I'm sure he got a similar but lustier one just then!
Please do continue this story thread!
Oh come on!......don't leave us in suspense, please write or post Part II, this is CRYING OUT for the neuro pressure session, loved the story anyway, & I'm hoping like mad you decide to write another piece, this one certainly had me glued to the screen, very, very well written & presented...........thanks.........Tony
Oh, yeah... this totally needs a part two. Very good writing!
I can only say yes, yes, yes to all the above!!!
Awesome story ! I think you're the first fanfiction author to use the word 'supercilious '. ;)
Great! Looking foward to T'Pol's POV.
Well, the problem with TBC, is that I just know that E2 is going to be crying out for a post-ep too! And they're just what I love to write ... we'll see! Maybe I can wrap them up together. ;-)
I liked it...it was definately well done.
I'm no where near being too proud to beg for T'Pol's POV during the neuropressure scene I am hoping you are already working on. Please and thank you in advance. :o)
I loved it! I'd squee for a part 2, but I think everyone else already has, so I'll save you that.
I can just imagine Trip's tone of voice in that conversation. And the look T'Pol gave him. Great characterization!
Oh yes, please -- give us part 2 from T'Pol's perspective! I loved the story, but you can't end it with "they may be the last seconds we have left"! This is much too cruel. I need resolution and preferably a happy ending!
Um...I'm new, but I thought I'd give my view on your story.
I loved it. It's probably something that might actually happen on the show.
I loved this! And you just set yourself up for a sequel. Both Trip and T'Pol were being a bit bold in their statements. I really think you could have a fabulous follow-up conversation based on that. Either way, great job.
I loved it! Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope there is more to come.
When's the sequel?!?! Great job!