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Vulcan for Intimate - ch. 7

Author - John O.
Fan Fiction Main Page | Stories sorted by title, author, genre, and rating

Vulcan for 'Intimate'

By John O.

Rating: R... for Pon FaRRR!
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek characters and names. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: ** PLEASE READ CH.7 BEFORE READING THE MISSING SCENE LINKED BELOW!**

A/N: Ok, a whole heck of a lot is going on in this chapter. It's also much longer than usual, because I'm trying to still give it the time it deserves without going day-by-day and writing my own War and Peace. Hopefully you agree that we don't skip over good stuff, cuz there's plenty of good stuff :). Following that, we begin to move towards Resolution, with a few bumps, and painful bruises along the way. Never fear shippers, it takes sour to recognize sweet, and before we are done - Trip and T'Pol will most definitely recognize sweet. I have attempted to capture the reality of the way relationships go back and forth, up and down, and not just dreamily forward on a golden road all the time. Besides, they're Vulcan and Human, they're bound to clash a bit ;). I'm also really trying to keep T'Pol a Vulcan while satisfying our bleeding hearts!

Tons of thanks to y2kelly for constant support and beta'ing throughout the V4 series!



Chapter 7

Day 65


Three weeks had passed since Trip and T’Pol had begun exploring each other, their feelings, and the repercussions for T’Pol that would inevitably follow. It was a territory as vast, uncharted and dangerous as the Expanse across which their counterparts sojourned. The morning after that second romantic encounter, Trip had approached her on the beach. She sat nude with her knees bent and folded within her arms, staring at the bluish purple horizon when an alien flock above her head sang out in unison. It passed as she peered above, and Tucker appeared behind her. Streaks of orange light stood out against the hazel and blue that mixed together to form the early morning sky. The streaks took off across the top of the sky, looked as if they would split the globe into hemispheres and then disappeared. T'Pol's brow wrinkled curiously, but Tucker stole her attention a moment later.

He sat behind her, as nude as she, he spooned her body into his and wrapped his arms around her. His chin came to rest between her shoulder and her neck. The stubble of several days was no longer prickly but softly grazing against her skin and she leaned into him naturally, her eyes closing peacefully. Neither spoke, and somehow Trip knew it must be this way for now, that this is how she wanted it - how she needed it to be. A Vulcan, even one in love with a human, is still a Vulcan by all accounts… and speaking the feelings that burned aloud within her Vulcan heart would still sting as harshly as ever. It was a fundamental offense to her identity that she knew not how to eradicate... Only how to control... and only sometimes.

For that reason, while the time went by, Trip and T’Pol continued their arrangement, largely unspoken. Despite the happiness with their newfound union, nightly exertions and increasingly frequent morning exertions as well; Tucker was getting stir crazy. He began to find it more and more difficult to do nothing but wait for favorable weather to go inland. The pod was stripped, T’Pol’s study of the anomaly field had reached a standstill and Trip had long since given up trying to fix the power grid. He also noticed T’Pol becoming increasingly anxious. She meditated constantly, had difficulty sleeping, and was often difficult to wake in the morning. She already feared it was the coming of the inevitable - the onset of more severe symptoms of Pa’nar. She shivered in his arms as the reality punched through the serene peace and revived the dark secret he still did not know.


Day 66

He hated missing meals. In the last few days T'Pol had become increasingly distant and difficult to read. Today seemed to be no different and after an unpleasantly silent breakfast, she disappeared into the jungle after saying something about research. It was now two hours after he sat down to start lunch and still trudging through the jungle, a very irritated Tucker bit his lip in frustration as his footing failed. A jagged stone pricked angrily at the foreign object attempting to push it into the mud and Tucker's foot responded by oozing blood and toppling the Commander's body down the muddy slope. Cursing and yelling the whole way down, he came to rest several meters down the slope against a large tree. He groaned aloud and stood up, bracing against the tree for balance.

"T'Pol! Where'n the HELL are you?" he shouted between pants and grunts as he examined his dark foot, its bottom a mix of blood and mud.

"Ah, God! Just great..." he muttered, as he hopped in place, trying to maintain balance. He started back towards the beach to rinse the wound to protect against infection, cursing under his breath the whole way that T'Pol was going to get one on'ry, Southern talkin'-to when he found her. He stopped to rest, holding his foot in pain and bracing against a tree. He turned and let his back fall against its bark, sliding down the length of it until he was resting flat on his bottom. He let his head fall back into the bark and stared up at the tall trunk above him and the alien sun as it peered above the jungle canopy. He let out a breath of relaxation as a familiar spark lit into the base of his brain and he suddenly became calmer, and less irritated. He thought it must have been the fresh air and nearly perfect balance of temperature between the jungle shade and the overhead sun that relaxed him, but before he could think too much on the subject - there was a noise.

He looked out in front of him to see something disappear behind a tree several meter away. It was the size of a man, but he knew no reason T'Pol would be sneaking around and concealing her presence. He froze and stared blankly at the general area he thought the flash of movement had come from. He thought about calling out for her, but still something tightened in his throat and he feared for who or what it may be other than T'Pol. A tussle of leaf and branches from a different direction erupted and Tucker snapped that way to find T'Pol standing near the hill from which he slid uncontrollably. He relaxed when she appeared, composed and curiously watching her companion breath as if he had not for several minutes. A loud crash, the sound of footfalls echoed from the direction of the first movement and Tucker and T'Pol both jumped in unison. They saw nothing, and exchanged relief to have found one another before T'Pol helped Tucker back to the camp.


Day 70

One morning, Trip approached T’Pol as she meditated early on the beach. Clothing had become somewhat sparing as the weather grew warmer and the two abandoned many last respites of modesty around one another. When he knelt and took her in his arms as he had done many times before, the response elicited was starkly different. She tensed around him and shied away. He was left with his confusion as she rose from the beach, sand caking her naked skin as she left him, moving to wash the sand away in the water.

“T’Pol?” he called after her, still sitting knees folded to his chest on the sand. She ignored him, continuing into the water. He dropped his head with a groan, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

“T’Pol!” he leapt from the sand and pursued. She was already in the water as he jogged to the edge of the surging tide where it met his feet.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” She turned as if with shock.

“You know how it displeases me to be interrupted during meditation!” she snapped back, her lips quivering in anger. As she turned her body language spoke of anxiety, fear and lack of control.

“T’Pol, what…” he started to approach but she started like a cornered animal and he froze He backed up a few steps, coaxing her to move out of the water’s depth onto the sand.. His hands hung in mid air, open palmed, begging an explanation. His face contorted in hurt confusion as he stood knee deep in the water, motionless. Suddenly, the cold chill of disgrace and returning focus came to T’Pol’s face and her composure returned. Her posture straightened, the rage left her eyes and her mouth closed with clinical precision. She attempted to file past him without speaking but he grabbed her arm.

“What, that’s it? What’s wrong, I wanna’ help y-“ Trip called, but he was cut off with a yelp as she whipped back into him. Like a torrent behind a pane of glass begging to be shattered, T’Pol’s resistance to the urges inside her exploded forth the moment he touched her. She threw her arms behind his head, practically leaping into his arms and covering his mouth with hers in a violent fervor. In surprise, Tucker stumbled backwards, just clearing the waterline before he fell on his back into the wet sand. T’Pol fell with him inch for inch as if she were glued to him, cupping his face passionately but with Vulcan strength that made him mumble something under her virulent kiss. She persisted regardless, grinding her body hard against his as she straddled his sand covered body. He forced himself up against her weight and incredible strength, grimacing as she kissed him harder. As she straddled his naked body he could not help but feel intensely aroused despite his intent to resist. He struggled to rip her from him to find out what this madness was that had taken over her but a likewise powerful urge began to burn in him, too.

He returned her kiss, sparing at first only to sate her enough to press her away and demand an explanation. But in moments his body was responding to her advances and the situation spiraled quickly out of his control. Suddenly he was pulling and tearing at her just as roughly, begging for just another touch or taste to sate an insatiable hunger. She positioned herself over him and came falling onto him in one swoop, in a slow but powerful thrust. The bloodlust lit into him like a spark the moment he was inside her and the day disappeared into evening and starlight as the fire consumed them both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 71

Trip awoke, exhausted, hungry and thirsty, some time in the late evening of the following day. His memory of the past several hours was somewhat garbled but the soreness he felt all over quickly brought back a wash of recollection. He groaned aloud and turned sideways, unable to lift himself from the sand at all. He found T’Pol by his side, fast asleep with a feral tone to her breathing. Her chest rose and fell like a beast’s, and she breathed heavier than usual.

He reached across her torso, lovingly pulling her closer to him. She instinctively complied, turning into him and parting her lips against his. She awoke abruptly as the kiss ended, her carnal desires awakened as well. She lunged back into him and he groaned in frustration as he realized his mistake.

“T’Po- Wa…” he muffled against her mouth as he tried to beg for a breather, hoping to get some water and god willing a meal before the next bout of whatever the hell was going on. He had a raging headache, and lustful indulgence didn’t fit the bill for relief from aching muscles and an empty stomach. He pushed against her again, more roughly this time with all his strength as feeble as it was in contest of her superior Vulcan sinews. She must not have been holding him with all her strength as he was finally separated from her.

“T’Pol!” he cried in desperation as she was finally torn from him like glue, her muscles tight and powerful. She was breathing rapidly like an animal but the soft concern and slight fear in his eyes drug something from deep inside her and the frightening glean in her eye dissipated. Her breathing slowed and her arms loosened around his neck.

She withdrew them, and curled up by herself in the sand, turning away from him without speaking. A few moments later her chest was rising and falling with constant rhythm again. He jumped to his feet to take advantage of the lustful armistice she granted so he could replenish his strength. He needed water and bandages.

He hadn’t realized it until he started limping down the beach towards camp, but a few particularly painful scratches and scrapes on his shoulders and back ached with sand in them. His mind was clouded, pulsating like a fever and he actually turned and seriously considered running right back. His pulse was beating feverishly in his chest but he could feel a different part of him actually beating red with swelling.

I must be out of my mind! He thought, wanting to go another round of sex like that in his condition. He did his best to put the thoughts out of mind until he could physically survive it. Something was wrong with T’Pol but he was frustratingly out of options. She refused to talk, she was more irrational than she had ever accused humans of being. He was worried, but there was a stronger instinct inside him, urging him to take care of her and await the inevitable... what he did not know. Somehow he knew this was supposed to be happening, though for the life of him he couldn’t be sure why or how. In any case, he wasn’t going to be the one calling the shots in the bedroom for a little while. He looked down to find his manhood quite uncooperative to his willful attempts to quell its behavior. With hands on his hips, he tipped his face skyward and twisted his neck around causing several tight muscles to pop. He groaned with a hint of excitement mixed with ache and marched dutifully right back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 76

Several days later, Trip was sleeping late into the day when T’Pol appeared in the bright opening of the shelter. She ducked through the entrance after beholding the sleeping human for a few moments. A flicker of doubt clouded her otherwise reborn, pristine Vulcan consciousness but she soon overcame it. In truth, T’Pol felt more controlled and confident of herself than she could recall feeling since she contracted Pa’nar Syndrome. She did not understand how, but the minor symptoms that had been with her since the unpleasant event which lead to her sickness had all but disappeared in the days that she spent recovering from Pon Farr. She wondered if... no, she thought. Certainly not possible.

The sun began to duck towards the distant horizon. The trickling sunlight in the mid-evening sky scattered light across Trip’s face and he stirred. T’Pol moved to his side, brushing a lock of hair from her face in a mannerism completely alien to her. Her hair was nearly down to her back now in length, its hue a much lighter brown than when they arrived due to sun exposure. She removed his cover without waking him to reveal several fresh bruises and minor cuts. She winced at the number of contusions he had suffered as a result of her ‘condition’ and fought away the pang of guilt.

Before he regained consciousness, he groaned and sensed a discomfort in the connection to his beloved. He was suddenly aware of her remorse in a way he could not understand, as if she had reached out and given it to him and he could wrap his fingers around it. Again, he was reminded of the sensation he felt more than once when they made love. When she touched his face, he felt the snap of an electric shock and his head ached afterwards. At first it was frightening but as it increased in frequency, the pain weaned away and he thought only pleasant thoughts of their life here together. And hopes, of their life afterwards.

For the first day or so he was truly frightened for T’Pol and when she lost control. She more frequently touched and held his face after that and each time he became more confident of her improving health. She seemed more lucid each day, the uncontrolled biological imperative that drove her to take him dwindling into willed lovemaking. Desired closeness. Caring thoughts.

Now that it was over, he was sure there was some significance to the vibes he got from her when she touched his face so gently. He felt a closer familiarity with her... much closer than before, as if he had known T’Pol all her life, even as a child. He made a mental note to ask her about it, but presently his attention was consumed by a massive headache.

He turned and buried his face further into the wrapped bundle of cushioned pod upholstery they used as pillows. He had only started to regain consciousness slowly when he was more abruptly awakened by T’Pol’s clinical application of disinfectant. She dabbed only lightly but with all the bells and whistles of 22nd century technology, the constituents of field bandages changed little and the sting remained. The pain opened his eyes wide as he bucked instinctively.

“Ow!” he yelped as the light poured into his unshielded eyes. A very lucid and focused T’Pol looked down on him, bearing a visage very unlike the mad-faced, sex-crazy woman he had seen for the past three days. He blinked several times, unsure if he was dreaming. He threw his head back with a quiet sigh of relief but said nothing.

“Indeed,” T’Pol replied simply to his unspoken relief. Tucker turned looked to her again, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Huh?” he asked in surprise. T’Pol continued dressing his wounds.

“You said ‘it’s about time she got back to normal, I couldn’t survive much more’,” T’Pol recited clinically, gleaning over an expletive or two. "And I agree with your assessment," she remarked with an eyebrow as she surveyed his injuries.

Tucker’s face contorted in even more confusion with a hint of fright. Just before he could formulate his befuddlement into a coherent query, T’Pol finished with his bandages and sat back with her hands flat on her thighs. She looked down and prepared for what she knew was her responsibility.

“There are some things of which you must be made aware…”

“…Consequences of mating with a Vulcan,” she admitted softly. The words leaving her mouth were the most intimate T’Pol had ever spoken to anyone, but she could not bid her eyes to rise above the floor, much less meet his. It was the admission of her true desire, to be his mate and to be accepted as his.

“First, you must understand I have conducted myself inappropriately. I have formalized our arrangement without consulting you and… I must apologize,” she finished quietly. Trip blinked away his befuddled expression and replaced it with warm concern. It was the look of a man who knows not what the trouble, but cares so deeply that it doesn’t matter.

He sat up and moved closer but kept a comfortable distance. He was still not sure yet of what was to come of this discussion.

“I do,” T’Pol added quickly, meeting his eyes daringly before relaxing her gaze once again. Trip turned his head and opened his mouth as if to say what just happened.

“You are unsure if I return your affection, if Vulcans are capable of feeling such things… if our-” Tucker interrupted. "If what we did is your way of…”

“Copulating, yes.” T’Pol finished quietly.

"And if what we are is..." Tucker asked, sensing T'Pol knew the last few words. She inhaled and her eyes quaked as they moistened.

"In love?" she asked quietly. "I do not know, Vulcans do...do not," she could not finish, the words she begged to utter she could not force herself to admit. Would she always be off limits to him? Would that final boundary always be uncrossable?

Trip looked down for several moments, putting together the pieces and wondering if what he suspected could really be true.

“It is true, that we have developed a telepathic connection, and it is a consequence of mating… When a Vulcan mates, there is a shared psychic bond… however I did not believe it would be possible with a human. This is why I did not warn you. Human tradition is very different, we are unused to-…” she trailed off. Tucker rubbed his chin and blew out a nervous breath. T’Pol looked up in apprehension, question in her eyes as she awaited his response. Her Vulcan mind could easily have moved into his mind and plucked his thoughts and feelings from him, but she waited for him to give them to her… desiring them to be freely offered. She also secretly feared to do so, still unsure of and unpracticed at such direct telepathic connection.

“You only mate every seven years?” Trip asked, sheepishly confirming the rumor he had heard in Starfleet.

“We are capable of the physical act and the hormones which induce arousal. However, in Vulcan females, the reproductive system is not active until the mating cycle… It is called Pon Farr, or ‘the blood fever’. That is what we experienced together,” she replied in a quiet voice, the last word uttered stirring a persistent warmth in her chest.

“I’ll say…” Tucker mumbled as he rubbed a sore patch on his left shoulder with a smirk. T’Pol avoided his mischievous glance. He chuckled and felt the weight lift from his heart as he caught a sparkle in her eyes. Even his lighthearted treatment of the subject to which she attributed much embarrassment somehow lifted her apprehension.

“So… you’re saying you were fertile when we…” Trip gesticulated innocently. “Without protection isn’t there a chance you could… I mean we did a lot of..." Trip's hands became an incoherent jumble of movement as he turned slightly pink.

“A Vulcan-human pregnancy has never existed, nor to my knowledge ever been attempted… According to the Vulcan Science Directorate our genetic material is almost completely incompatible. However, after my experiences with Daniels, logic dictates that the Vulcan Science Directorate may not always be correct,” T’Pol admitted.

”We’re the first?” Tucker asked, not without a sense of pride.

“Such a hybrid would most likely not be accepted by Vulcan society, and the progenitors would be likewise shunned from life on Vulcan. Obviously our present situation precludes such misfortune,” T’Pol admitted. She was all too aware of her people’s disdain for humanity, but had only recently become aware of the reality of their intolerance hidden behind the logical arguments.

It was an opinion that was her own only not so long ago. She suddenly realized how distantly her behavior and her feelings for this human drove her from her previous identity. Were she not confined to this deserted world, her emotions for Tucker would most certainly be untenable in Vulcan society, perhaps even on Earth. But then, she could no longer imagine a life without him… So much had changed in only the two months of her last sixty-four years of life.

“So, you said you can read mah’ mind?” T’Pol nodded.

“Can I read yours? I mean I can’t hear your thoughts right now…”

“The human mind is not developed for telepathy. It is possible that after some period of time you may sense my thoughts and feelings if you cannot already, however the Vulcan mind is much more predisposed to telepathy, and we are trained to control our thoughts.”

“So is that what I felt during your ‘Pon Farr’?” Trip asked. T’Pol squinted and tilted her head uncertainly.

“I do not understand,” she replied. Trip ran a finger along his lips and licked them as he recalled the sensation.

“You don’t remember?” he asked.

“I recollect some of the events, however, the Pon Farr severely alters normal brain chemistry. Vulcans often retain no memory of these events. Perhaps for the better,” she confessed quietly.

“What did you experience?” T’Pol asked curiously and not without some concern.

”Well, whenever you would touch… my face,” Tucker motioned at his cheeks.

“I felt like you were inside my head, like you c- what?” Tucker asked, as T’Pol inhaled sharply, her eyes darting side to side.

“It is not possible,” she replied quietly, her voice shaking.

“What, what's not possible?” Trip asked in a minor panic.

“What you describe,” T’Pol informed him as her voice regained its evenness.

“Is called a mind meld, but it should not be possible. Only a small percentage of Vulcans are capable of melding, it is… it is a deplorable act of violation,” T’Pol replied, her voice shaking again. Trip sat up and came closer to her, taking her hands within his instinctively and holding them together.

“Sweetheart, I sure as hell didn't feel violated. I mean it hurt a little at first but I think that’s just 'cause I didn’t know what was goin’ on. All of the sudden I knew things about you I never knew before,” T’Pol frowned back at him skeptically.

“Not all mind-melds are performed with such... amicable intentions.”

Tucker's brows drew together in concern and uncertainty. A moment later, a flash of the memory of T’Pol’s mind-rape by Tolaris suddenly appeared to him. His eyes shut as if the shock of the experience would render him unconscious but he soon opened them again.

“Somethin’ happened ta’ you,” he muttered between breaths. He swallowed and steadied himself before looking directly into T’Pol’s eyes. His stomach was doing figure-eights in his gut and he suddenly felt as though he would be sick. When he doubled over in agony she moved closer and leaned into his face, tickling the stubble of his face in a way she found alluring and relaxing at the same time. She paused with her cheek against his and her breath coming hot across his cheek where she felt the tranquility and calm to recount the horror. At the same time his nausea disappeared and he panted to catch his breath as the soft skin rubbed across his prickly jaw.

“The V’tosh ka’tur who came aboard Enterprise... I spent a great deal of time with one of them, Tolaris,” T’Pol told him.

“I knew there was a reason I didn’t like ‘im,” Trip mumbled. T’Pol looked up from his cheek very rigidly, challenging his accusation.

“What? Guys know, I knew there was somethin' about the way he looked at you I didn't like. I just didn’t think Vulcans looked at each other that way,” he admitted. T’Pol sighed.

“That type of Vulcan, does, apparently.” Trip knew of the attack, the remorse and guilt T’Pol felt afterwards, as if she had allowed it to happen. It was against her beliefs, against her discipline. The worst part was that she wanted it, at first. She had attempted to turn away too late, and Tolaris refused... He snapped back again, the memory hitting him with nearly full force and knocking him back, but T’Pol reached out for him and held him steady.

“What I have done to you is unforgivable, I am sorry,” T’Pol whispered as she began to leave.

“Wait!” Trip took hold of her arm before she could flee and she turned back to reveal eyes that nearly dribbled down her cheeks with guilty tears.

“That’s not what happened here, that’s not what you did!” Trip shook his head again and rubbed his mouth, searching in frustration for the words to make her understand.

“You...didn’t violate anything, maybe I don’t know what the hell half this Vulcan stuff is and maybe I'm way the hell outta' my league here, but... it doesn’t matter, you can’t violate someone who... loves you,” he trailed off, shaking his head with his eyes steadily locked on hers. She sat back down, consenting to hear more.

“I... know things about you now that I can’t even begin to understand how I know!” he replied with a chuckle and an exasperated smile.

“Don’t believe me? Your pet sehlat’s name was Tikosh, your father’s name was Sovek and the first human you ever met was Steven Cochrane, Zephram’s grandson. You met him on your first trip to Earth with your father when you were fourteen and you had a crush on ‘em,” Trip informed her coolly. She stared back wide eyed.

"I don't understand it either," Trip confessed.

“But I don’t... have to know, I don’t have ta’ understand,” he pleaded. "You're all that matters to me, T'Pol."

“I never believed a meld… nor a bond, for that matter, would be possible with a human.”

“…with you.” T’Pol confessed.

“But you knew there was a chance… I mean if you thought about it, did you want it to happen?” Tucker asked curiously. T’Pol swallowed and met his gaze before responding.

“Yes,” T’Pol confessed before she realized the gravity of the admission.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Tucker replied. He rose to his knees and moved closer to her. He reached out and placed two fingers on her cheek with a thumb on her chin, imparting a tender caress across her jaw, and for some reason he could not fathom, knew to continue all the way up to the point of her ear. As he reached the tip of her ear and moved forward, her lips parted. Either in greeting to his lips or at the pleasure induced by his tender touch on her sensitive ears, he met her in a slow and tender kiss. She pulled away a few seconds later and pursed her lips and watched his face as he licked his lips.

“You do not feel invaded by the bond?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, a slight shudder in her voice. Tucker shrugged and shook his head with a light smile.

“You’ve always got me figured out anyway, now I can just save time denyin’ it,” he smirked as she became austerely Vulcan once again.

“I hardly believe it would be accurate to say I have you, “figured out”,” T’Pol responded coolly. “You are mistaken if you believe our present situation implies that it will be easier to ‘get under my skin’ as you put it,” she returned icily through the Vulcan lips he had grown to know so well. He laughed heartily before lurching forward. He threw T’Pol into his arms and collapsed with her sideways onto the blankets, leaning above her with a smirk. The shocked expression of suddenly being tackled backwards as he first brought her down with him betrayed her feigned calm, from which she quickly recovered and stared at him vacantly.

“Didn’t see that comin’ did ya’?” Trip asked mischievously. T’Pol allowed her arms up from the floor to crawl up his muscular sides, carefully avoiding his tender wounds. The impassive face she regarded him with contrasted the intimate touch.

“Perhaps I did,” she replied simply, pulling at the nape of his neck down to meet her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 97
3 Weeks Later

"I would kill for a hammock right about now," Trip mused as he rocked her gently into the gust of wind the blew in from the direction of the setting sun. Only a quarter of the fiery rob hung near the horizon, the rest threw a solid sheet of gold across the landscape that Trip was silently mesmerized by while T'Pol merely closed her eyes, listening within.

"What is a hammock?" T'Pol asked curiously, but her eyes remained closed.

"It is the only thing we need right now," Tucker chuckled and grinned into her neck as he planted a kiss just under her right ear. She shivered and allowed a moan to escape her lips as she leaned into him.

"Except maybe a cold beer." He sighed, relaxing into her as the wind blew through her hair and scattered patches of her wonderful scent into him like candy in the air for an olfactory sweet tooth.

"Consumption of alcoholic beverages would be unwise under prolonged sun exposure, or in a survival situation such as this," T'Pol spoiled his image of the cold drought running down his throat he missed dearly at this moment.

"You kiddin'?" he outraged with a hidden smirk. "Na', some hot dogs, some burgers on the grill," he pointed into the distance to a small clearing. "It's a hell'ofa place for a barbeque, I tell you what," he teased her, thickening his accent and 'illogical vernacular'.

They sat on the warm grass that cooled as the sun's rays dimmed further and further. T'Pol was in front of him, surrounded by his arms as he leaned in close once more for an encore. His hands moved around her abdomen and one came to rest just over her lower belly. He closed his eyes and smiled into the dark, silky mass of her hair as it poked him in the face and inhaled her scent. He sighed and tickled the tips of his fingers softly against her skin as she continued to lie limp in his arms, allowing him to sway her back and forth.

"You are sure that this rhythm is soothing to the baby?" she asked, the clinical inflection of a Vulcan scientist creeping into the Mother's voice.

"Oh yeah, mommas do it all the time on Earth. Lets 'em know you're close by."

"So. Have you thought about a name?" Trip inquired.

"You certainly have," she quipped, referring to the endless cycle of baby-names that had been scrolling through his thoughts for the past several days.

"Hey, can't blame a dad for gettin' excited. 'Sides, you never told me what you think of Charles the Fourth," he chuckled. "Sounds like a King," he admired his own namesake.

"How do you know it is a boy?" she asked clinically.

"Oh, well by the way you carry it. You can tell, somethin' ma' mom taught me." T'Pol gazed back at him doubtfully with a high eyebrow. For an instant she was the Sub-Commander again and they were barbing on Enterprise. Then he was back, grinning at the mother of his child. "What?" he drew his brows together into a frown. "Callin' me a liar?" he mocked her.

"The pregnancy has progressed less than one month into the gestation cycle and even if it were several months... the 'way' the baby is carried has no correlation to its sex," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, believe what'cha want," he replied confidently. "We'll see who's right," he teased her with a confidently defiant turn of his nose. A few moments passed by in silence before Tucker spoke up again.

"How 'bout Roselie if it's a girl?"

"Perhaps T'Mir would be suitable for a girl," T'Pol countered, a thoughtful hint creeping into her voice. Trip looked intrigued, turned the name over in his mind a few times and looked back.

"Ya' know, I kinda' like that. T'Mir Tucker. Has a nice ring to it," he thought aloud with a reflective expression.

"It was my second foremother's name."

"Oh, you mean the one that invented Velcro and changed the course a' human history?" Tucker asked pointedly. "Indeed," T'Pol replied.

"Oh that one. Hmm, right," Tucker teased her, reminding her of his doubtful reception to the fantastic story. He squeezed her close and planted a soft kiss against the back of her neck.

"I like that one," he whispered thoughtfully into the wind. "My little T'Mir," he muttered to himself as he caressed T'Pol's still-taut belly. Her belly rumbled ominously and he peered over her shoulder to reply.

"Well 'scuse me, hon! I mean our T'Mir!" he consented with a laugh.

"It was merely my appetite, not subliminal communication from a three-week old embryo," T'Pol asserted, drawing another laugh from the man in her arms.

The next several minutes passed in silence as Trip considered their past, their future, and a "little someone's" future. After sharing the Pon Farr with him, many of T'Pol's remaining defenses came down and she allowed herself to enter his mind, sensing his consent. She listened to his thoughts now as he pondered the future of the baby growing in her womb. Her fingers crept over his as they cradled the invisible life that was just taking form inside her. A gush of warmth traveled between them and into them and throughout her, surrounding the tiny creature within.

“Where ‘r we gonna’ go when we get back?” Trip wondered aloud as she leaned into him. "I don't think there'll be any place for us on Enterprise," Trip clarified. T'Pol nodded silently.

“You are welcome in my home,” she replied.

“Am I?” She sensed worry in him of the kind of welcome that could await them if they returned to Vulcan.

”My parents will let us stay with them for awhile if we have to,” Trip assured her. She blinked away an unpleasant thought she caught drifting through him and lowered her eyes.

“Will they welcome a second son?” T’Pol asked him cautiously, not wishing to delve too deeply into the possibility that his parents would reject a duplicate, as near to the one they knew and loved as he may be. He blinked several times and caught a lump in his throat.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. T’Pol sensed the discomfort she had sown inside him as he suddenly began to think of his father, his mother, his sister - all rejecting him. She turned to him for reassurance.

“I believe your people would react differently than mine," T'Pol conceded with a hint of reproach for the latter. "Your parents may show compassion. They may… understand, and welcome a grandchild, perhaps. Ensign Sato once remarked how... 'lovingly' her parents came to receive her younger sister's offspring, despite the child's unexpected birth,” she recounted matter-of-factly. Trip moved his eyes from the sunset to hers and chuckled nervously as he considered her words thoughtfully. His eyes fell away from hers as he stroked his beard-covered jaw leisurely.

“Yeah, maybe… Either way, I’ve survived with no one but you for a long time now. I think I can go a few more decades,” he chuckled, nervously avoiding the core question in his own mind. She turned back towards the sun and let her back fall into his chest as they collapsed on the grass. She rose and fell with his heaving chest while the constant *thump thump, thump thump* of his heartbeat tapped into her back. She closed her eyes and let the rhythm set the tone for quiet meditation for nearly an hour, in silence.

"You know, T'Pol... I can't figure out if I'm bein' selfish," Trip thought aloud, staring straight up at the sky as the last golden rays of light split across the sky from the unseen horizon. He turned to look at her and she turned toward, moving sideways to watch his eyes from only inches away.

"Am I bein' selfish by bein' happy about this?" he asked in a shaky whisper, terrified of the answer. “I mean, bringin’ a child into this kinda’ life of ours, unsure if we’ll ever-” he was shaking his head but T’Pol stopped him mid-thought. She strained in the odd position atop his chest and moved forward, kissed him, holding his lips against hers for an endless moment as her tongue tickled his and danced across his lip. She broke the kiss and looked back at him.

"You are not, t'hyl'a. You forget. I can hear inside you, I know your feelings," she reminded him in a low voice.

"You love her very much," T'Pol whispered, her eyes flickering between his lips and the bowls of blue looking down at her. "I do not believe that is selfish." Trip's brows drew together sharply in confusion but thanks to the bond it lasted only an instant. He gaped in shock and then smiled.

"Her? What do you mean Her? It's a her?! It's a HER!!" He shouted wildly, taking her by surprise as he nailed her mouth with his in a passionate kiss and then lifted her from the grass. He picked her up but T'Pol would suffer it only an instant before she forced herself down. He suddenly became white and cradled her like a broken vase on his parents' floor.

"Oh, God I forgot! Are you all right?!" he asked in a panic. "I am fine, Trip. However, please do not attempt that again." He laughed through a smile and took her in his arms and pulled her close. He stopped and blinked as if something occurred to him and his smile faded only until it spoke softly of sincerity more than jest.

“T’Pol will you marry me?” She looked back at him curiously for several moments and blinked as she processed his human sentiment. He wasted no time waiting for her to respond and dropped to one knee as he held onto one hand and brought it to his lips.

“When we get back to Earth, will you be my wife?”

abi’sha’kim-shah t’esh replied her native tongue through the bond. “Until my final breath,” she told him.

The golden sun still warmed her back as he pulled her into a hug. He couldn't recall ever having simply hugged her. And it felt good. She, too, was unused to that form of affection from him and when he pulled away she watched him curiously, finding wonder hiding behind yet another unseen corner in his ocean-blue eyes. He moved in close and kissed her forehead, cradling her cheeks gently and then leaned down to meet her lips. She returned the kiss, pulling him into her but retaining the slow and soft embrace that sent slithery waves of warmth throughout her chest. He pulled away only an inch. The sun crept lower, dimming the ambient light and for an instant, obscured him from her view as her eyes adjusted. He leaned against her forehead.

"I'm gonna' get you an' our daughter home. That's a promise," she heard him whisper through the darkness. And T'Pol believed him. They both did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 136
1 month later

It was early one morning when T’Pol awoke unpleasantly. Her head was swimming with nauseating motion as she rose from her bed. Beads of sweat trickled down her face, pleated her gray tank against her skin and wetted the hair around her neck. The cold sweat only made her queasier, and she calmly exited the shelter as Trip stirred in his sleep.

But her Vulcan dignity immediately left her along with the previous night’s meal as she wretched over a boulder barely a few meters from the shelter. Trip came to her side, rubbing his eyes and still sporting his Starfleet blues when he heard her vomiting. He was used to it by now.

“Hey T’Pol,” he called quietly, letting her know he was there as he rubbed a hand across her back. Up and down, back and forth he caressed her comfortingly - trying to remember the solid rhythm his dad claimed set his mother at ease during the same trying time. He wet his dry lips as he winced at the thought once again. The worry that lurked in the back of his mind about this whole thing ever since the first sign, perked its ugly head once again. Just then T’Pol stood erect, cleaning herself up and going to the ocean to wash the taste from her mouth in dignity.

“I am aware of your feelings about this, Trip, and I share them,” she replied in frustration. Returning to the camp, she filed past him. She went about preparing breakfast as he sat down opposite the fire, a distance from where she had vomited moments before. He was thankful she usually managed to make it far enough from the camp to smell it. He folded his arms and looked at her in frustration.

“I can’t hide how I feel from you so we might as well get it out in the open. I’m just not sure that bringin’ a baby into life on this planet is the right thing to do!” Trip called out, yelling not at T’Pol but at his own frustration.

“There hardly seems to be anything we can do about it now,” T’Pol replied sternly. He rubbed his head from front to back, messing the short golden hairs out of alignment. Although T’Pol had opted to allow hers to grow unchecked, Tucker had kept his short with a scissors from the medic kit.

“I don’t blame you,” Trip replied warmly. He sensed the fear in her; fear that perhaps he blamed her for not warning him about Pon Farr, or for telling him the that chance of pregnancy did exist. Then again, she had not lied… it was unthinkably rare. Any doctor on Vulcan or Earth would have called it impossible. She looked up momentarily from the cooking fire as a warm breeze blew in.

“Soon it will be the optimal time to move into the forest and begin searching for the device causing the anomaly field,” T’Pol ignored the issue. “The climate is nearing its warmest period, if we wish to find the anomaly and possibly send a distress signal, we must depart soon.” Trip sighed.

“We’re not goin’ anywhere while you're carryin' our baby, hun,” Trip assured her “How long do Vulcans carry before uh… delivery,” Trip asked, nervous of the grimy details.

“Thirteen months,” T’Pol replied quietly.

“Wow, lot longer’n humans,” he mused, chewing his lip. “So that means if we stay here, have our baby, then it’ll be back to about the right time for the warm weather, since this planet has a fourteen month annual cycle right?” T’Pol nodded. "The time will be slightly further into the warm season, however, we should have sufficient time to search a large area of the island."

Trip continued. “And then go find this device thing and then get the hell outta’ here.”

“You are assuming the pregnancy survives to term,” T’Pol replied quietly. She had stopped preparing the meal and sat on her knees facing the fire, her eyes planted so firmly upon its dancing tongues she did not notice when Trip came up behind her. His arms circled her warmly and he set his chin upon her shoulder, breathing in her pleasant scent and kissing her neck.

“Now don’t be talkin’ like that."

"I am having difficulties..."

Trip eased her around to face him and found her face turned towards the sand. Finally she met his eyes and he found hers swimming with wetness and he drew her closer.

"I believe the hybrid pregnancy is altering my hormones in an unusual manner, for Vulcan pregnancies... I am having difficulty controlling my emotions and I fear..." she barely finished before she began to weep openly. Trip took hold of her somberly and held her. He could be sure she was telling the truth, and that the human physiology within her was drastically affecting her normal suppression techniques. Although she embraced him on occasion, allowed him to cuddle her and be the Human he had to be, there were tradeoffs as well, and she meditated routinely. They still made love passionately (less frequently as the baby neared), but she still had not forsaken the techniques she had practiced for twice as long as Trip lived. His strength, in fact, supplemented her control at times, allowing her to use him as a blow-off valve for the primal emotions that built up as a natural consequence of the Vulcan nature brewing within her. It was not the conventional method any Vulcan would approve, in fact they would certainly shun her behavior as grossly offensive. But it is how she learned to cope out here, and with it came his love. To that she clung feverishly in times of need, more soulfully than she ever clung to his lusty embrace.

"Whatever happens, sweetheart, we’ll face it together," he whispered into her ear as he planted a kiss on its pointed tip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 328

7 Months Later


It had been almost ten months since Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T’Pol were stranded on the empty planet with the anomaly field surrounding it. Those titles were all but forgotten now, their relationship having leapt from professional to intimate during their first few months and now to Mother and Father. Husband and wife. T'hyl'a and ashayam.

When she first gave in to the desire she had to express her emotions for Tucker, T’Pol was sure it must be the isolation from her people and their ways that allowed her to commit such a departure from emotional abstinence. But to admit so would be to admit that her Vulcan training only suppressed what was already there, that constant vigilance was required to hold at bay the powerful emotions like love, lust, sorrow and hate. She knew these things to be true, and when she meditated they were brought more clearly to the surface than ever before. It was during meditation, that T’Pol felt that she finally understood the true struggle of Surak and the birth of his ideas. The dual nature of the Vulcan spirit had been suppressed in her training, silenced but not-so-effectively within this particular Vulcan female. Her emotions were out, dancing in the light of day instead of cowering in the depths of darkness as they had for so long.

She wondered if this revelation might ever find its way to her people... it was a foolish thought. More likely she would never return to Vulcan, even if they were to find a way off this planet. She had been touched by the new creature whose rounded dwelling protruded from her belly - her child, the first Vulcan-Human hybrid. She would find a way from this place, she had to. She refused to allow the child growing within her, the miracle fruit of one human’s love and her frightfully powerful returned affection.

Just then, her eyes snapped open in horror as a shot of pain arched from an unknown source within her - touching her womb and her soul. Her eyes fell abysmally dark, surpassed only in its aching blackness by her heart as it filled with sorrow.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 329

Trip was tearing through the forest near sunset, searching desperately for the mother of his child, who had disappeared during meditation the evening before. Nearly fifteen hours had gone by that he had been searching nonstop, with no food or rest. He was panicked, frightful and his mind too densely packed with intense worry for her sobbing cries to be heard through the bond. Just as he stopped, doubling over with his hands on his knees in exhaustion, the fog in his heart cleared and a cry pierced the silent twilight of the underbrush. It was in his mind more than in the air, a desperate and sorrowful wail with no end. He turned to one side, his eyes fixed on an arbitrary direction from which the cry in his heart seemed to emanate.

He took off running once again, the fatigue separated from him and left there on the forest floor for him to reclaim at some later time. The cry was too deep, too terrible and painful for the tired sinews to give in and collapse as they so desired. But the pain in his knees, his lungs, was rapidly becoming too great with every passing branch and scraping thorn. Just when his body could almost stand no more, the trees on either side of the forest floor seemed to arch and he found his wife.

Sobbingly beside herself, she lay in the grass with her gray tank covered in sweat, her bottom half unclothed and covered in greenish-copper blood, but with no wounds. He gathered her in his arms, her eyes so filled with tears she almost did not recognize him and pulled the bloody bundle in her arms tighter to her chest in alarm. His eyes became fixed on T'Mir's bloody skin as T'Pol's fingers slid over it. He looked over its motionless body in despair, crying out for his daughter as T'Pol buried herself into his neck and cried aloud. Their silent baby, its eyes shut in peaceful rest eternal, remained at rest but embraced its Father.

He collapsed there beside her, his cheeks white as sheepskin and eyes brimming with pools of disbelief, and sorrow. He took her in his arms and her cries became quieter but muffled by his chest, and she clung to him, sheltering their daughter between their loving bodies. The shock was total, consuming him so completely that his mind was clear enough to reach out to T’Pol’s with total acceptance; feeling and knowing all that she did. The bond was complete; sown tight with barbs and never to be broken apart again.

It was an act wholly impossible for his human mind to have performed only a day ago, but driven forward resiliently like the persistent anguish of a grieving father - and the persistent love for his grieving wife.

****

Missing Scene : "Goodbye"

****


Chapter 8

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Hey Bucky, my bad, there's an open italics tag after "7 Months Later" near the very very end.

So powerfully sad. I tried to read the missing scene, but the link sends me to the boards, of which I'm not a member. Is this intentional?

yeh Scarlet - sorry about that I just figured most people on here could access it... Are you unable to join? THey don't allow poetry to be released here so that's the only other natural place I could put it.

Lemme see if I can solve this for anyone else who might be having this problem as well... When I get home from work today at 5 pm CST I'll upload a document of the poem to my webserver and post a link.

Wow, this chap was really good and sad towards the end. I'm looking forward to more.

Oh, how incredibly sad. *reaches for kleenex*

I really enjoy your style of writing, John. It's been worth the many interruptions I've endured over the past hour or so by my 4 year old while I've been trying to read this. I like the romantic feel and leisurely pace of your story telling. It fits quite well with the setting too. It's an emotional way of writing and I personally like it a lot. Thanks for this.

Sad but understandable. Without medical assistance, the likelihood of a natural reproduction between a human and a Vulcan appears to be impossible. The less I say about female pon farr, the better, but I wonder why this version of T'Pol would enter it and the version that is currently aboard Enterprise does not.

I wonder at TnT's actions on day 66, though. Both of them have to know that their missing crewman is still lurking about yet they didn't even try to identify or pursue him? Yeah, Trip was injured (again), but still ... it's like they've forgotten about him...

Looking forward to the next chapter.

Excellent installment. I was not *exactly* surprised, but I was still like, "Damn, she's going to pull a pon farr on him and not explain beforehand!" I guess I was a bit shocked, but I thought it was entirely in character. It was completely believable to me.

And poor everyone in regards to T'Mir. I was wondering if T'Pol was actually going to be able to carry the child to term. I appreciate that you took the mostly likely/"realistic" route if T'Pol were able to conceive.

I've got to say you are doing an outstanding job with this story. It is quickly becoming one of my favorite TnT fanfic with your steady hand with the characterization.

Yeah Rigil, the Day 66 section... the thing is, from Trip's perspective he wasn't sure he actually saw anything... Perhaps I accidently narrated it such that it appeared more certain that someone was there... it was more like "a noise and a blur" and T'Pol had no idea as she just walked up...sorta like a situation that just flew by them before they could react.

And the "differences" between T'Pol2 and Ent-T'Pol can't really be addressed without forcible narration, until T'Pol2 actually returns to Enterprise... When they are faced with "your life / my life" and look at the differences...

I really love this. I love how you've taken your time to really let the characters get to know each other and even though I kind of wanted them to have the baby, I get it; it wasn't very practical, and without Phlox's help, I think this was the best thing to do. I love this fan fic, and I sincerely hope you continue. You're awesome.

In a way my view of T'Mir not surviving was more a question of character development and parallelism to the Ent-storyline, than practicality (far as 'raising a baby on an alien planet' kind of thing). I wanted to show and to explore as a writer what it would do to them to share this experience together of making a child and losing her, with only one another and themselves to blame, and eventually confide in and consol. And as far as the sort of "it's unrealistic for them to carry a hybrid baby to term without help", that IS a reasonable position, but it wasn't exactly my reason either. In a way, I like the idea of a bit of mysticism behind the miracle that conception ever happened in the first place, as against them as the odds for even that occuring were. In my mind, losing T'Mir is also part of T'Pol's love for Trip really being galvanized more completely than ever before by this irrepressible feeling that will begin to take hold of her that they must live on and go on to do more and experience more. It's like she's past the poin of no return, she now refuses to ever turn back on the feelings she's opened up for the sake of the memory of this wonderful love she has for T'Mir that we saw broken open and laid out in her most basic Vulcan emotions as she lie there wailing.

By showing what happens to Trip and T'Pol as a result of love and loss here, to me it's a way of gazing into the looking glass as to what may have been the result if Ent-TnT could have shared all these "growing together" experiences in the kind of isolation these two have, away from perturbations that disturb matters of the heart from taking their desired course.

At the same time as being overcome by loss, I think that some small part of them didn't want T'Mir to grow up there, with this aching fear in the back of their minds that they may never return... so in a way this is the painless end that their love wanted for her, not to say they are goin through anything but unimaginable grief over it regardless.

Ty you all for the comments so much, and sorry for cluttering my own comments but I like to respond and explain myself :)

I really liked "From Here to Eternity: The Ponfarr Edition". I could see them rolling around in the sand.

The premature birth and death of the baby hit me harder than I thought it would. I found the scene extremely difficult to read for personal reasons. Their reaction to the loss of their child was very believable. It's impossible to describe the pain of losing a child... even one you never have the chance to meet. You did a remarkable job. I commend you.

Ty that means a lot... I spoke with someone who had personal experience after I wrote it to ensure I had captured at least some part of the Truth of it... I am sorry, though, that it was difficult for you Distracted :(

to tell you the truth, when I wrote the last 2 paragraphs, the whole thing came out at once and then i sat back and read it and i could not stop from crying.

Well, that makes two of us, dear. I hope you never have to experience it personally, though. It's not something I'd wish on my worst enemy, much less my friend. The pain gets better with time, but it never completely goes away. You're left wondering what the children you lost would have looked like... and if their loss left the world somehow missing something.

Sorry to be such a downer. I'm in an odd mood today. This is a great story. Off to study now...

As a person who works in a hospital (and just this past weekend), the last two paragraphs hit exteremely close to home. I witnessed something very similar and all I can tell you is that you captued the emotions very accurately and very acutely. It's left me out of breath and I really don't know what to think.

This chapter was very nicely done and very carefully crafted. It's one of those pieces that you just have to appreciate for what it is, no matter what your emotions at the end.

Another great story John and one amazing job well done.

Amazing writing. Very well done. Like everyone else, I am brushing away the tears.

Amazing, and heartwrenching. I have the same problem as scarletwitch, I can't join (not 18 yet). Wonderful stuff, and I can't wait to see how they deal with this horrible loss. :*(

Ok here's what I did... I finally got access back to my Uni webserver, so since I have limited capability to change my website here, (using notepad to write html :() I have just spliced the poem into my regular webpage.

The page sux, deal with it =D. You'll see the poem typed out under the heading "TRIP N TPOLERS"

http://www.umr.edu/~jro8r4

John O,
What a heart-achingly well-written chapter. This one stuck with me, cut right to the core of why we like this couple so much, and why their chemistry is so believable. I love this parallel world you've created and how it aligns with the canon, but your version is so much more satisfying! The last scene was so painful, but so well done. I'm looking forward to seeing the healing the way you write it.

That was intense! Especially the last part! So sad :(

Well done John O., that was beautifully written.