Supernova- Ch. 5

Supernova

By Samantha Quinn
RATING: I think I better bump this one up to R. Nothing real explicit-but just to be safe. THIS ONE’S AN R! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
ARCHIVE: If you want it, take it. Be nice if you let me know, though.
Disclaimers in Chapter One

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Part Five

***
RATING: I think I better bump this one up to R. Nothing real explicit-but just to be safe. THIS ONE’S AN R! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
***
“Good evenin’, T’Pol,” I greet her cheerfully. “I'm not disturbin’ ya, am I?”

“No, Commander. Come in.” Comes her reply. I don’t know what it is, but there’s somethin’ different about her voice. It sounds. . . well, it sounds damn emotional. But maybe I’m just imagin’ things. After all, I’m quite drunk.

“Ya weren’t sleepin’, were ya?” I ask her, suddenly feelin’ shy under her gaze. Yeah, I don’t embarrass easy, but she’s staring directly at me and I can’t help but feel like she’s scrutinizing my every move. Considerin’ what I want to say, that’s enough to make any man nervous.

“No, I was not. Prior to your arrival, I had been contemplating coming to see you,” she tells me.

Comin’ to see me? This late at night? In her pajamas. Lascivious thoughts fill my head and I grin, lookin’ like a fool, I’m certain.

“How come ya were plannin’ on comin’ to see me?”

“I could very well ask you why you have opted to come see me,” is her reply.

Well, that’s not exactly the reply I was lookin’ for. But, what she says is true.

“Have you come to discuss my decision to return to Vulcan?” she asks. Wow, maybe she can see right through me with that look.

“Yes, I did,” I manage. “I--T’Pol,” Aw, hell, why is this so difficult? I had nerves of steel when I left my quarters. I shoulda brought that Risan whiskey with me.

“What do you wish to ask me, Commander?” she prods.

“Why are you leavin’?” I blurt. Oh, that was great, Trip, real subtle. I bet she’s gonna tell me it does not concern me.

***

He is concerned with my leaving. Perhaps what Lieutenant Reed said was in fact truthful.

But perhaps he comes only as my friend. Would not a friend be upset that another friend is leaving?

I shall have to watch what I say very carefully. If the Lieutenant was mistaken, I do not wish to lose the friendship of my Commander.

“T’Pol?” he inquires. I realize that I have not answered his question.

Should I? Should I answer it truthfully?

Contrary to popular belief, Vulcans can and do lie, if logic deems it necessary. Perhaps now is one of those times. Although I had been planning on talking to Commander Tucker following my conversation with Lieutenant Reed, I had been uncertain as to the amount of truth to disclose.

I am even more uncertain now that he is here.

“I am leaving the Enterprise, Commander, because very shortly I will be unable to perform all of the tasks required of me as First Officer as efficiently as that position requires,” I tell him. A safe and accurate answer. I have not lied to my Commander but I have not disclosed the entire truth. It is not a satisfactory answer to me, and, it becomes apparent, it is not a satisfactory one to Commander Tucker, either.

“Well, why not?” he says with a tone that I have come to learn denotes frustration.

A human emotion I have become quite familiar with.

***

She’s not givin’ me straight answers tonight.

Well, I hope she is ready to, cuz I am not goin’ to be satisfied with this vague nonsense. If I have to lose her, I damn well am gonna know why.

“T’Pol? What the hell has gotten into you? What possibly could make you a bad officer?” I demand.

In reply, she crosses to the other side of the room. I follow, determined not to let her get too far away from me. She leans against the wall and stares for a moment out at the stars. She looks so . . . upset that it’s all I can do not to take her in my arms and comfort her.

Whoa, easy there, Trip. Gettin' way ahead of yourself.

“Emotions, Commander Tucker.”

“’Scuse me?” I ask, confused.

“You asked what would make me a bad officer. I was replying to that question. Emotions.”

Did I hear her correctly? Did the woman who always likes to claim that Vulcans don’t have emotions just tell me that she was too emotional to be a good officer? No, that can’t be right. “Have ya gone loony, T’Pol? You control your emotions better than anybody I know,” I reassure her.

“Not all of them, Commander,” comes the quiet reply. I am about to ask her just what the hell that means, when she gestures to the bed. “Have a seat, Commander, and I will tell you a story.”

Oh, not another one of these stories. “It inn’t gonna be like that yarn ya told me and the Cap’n, is it, T’Pol, because really--"
She turns to look at me and the sorrow in that look makes me shut up immediately. In the two years I’ve known T’Pol, I’ve never known her to look sad. She does now.

“I assure you, Commander. This is a true story. Unfortunately.” She turns back around and resumes looking at the stars. She is quiet for such a long moment that my patience almost can’t stand it. But I can’t ask her again. Somethin’ tells me I gotta hear this.

“Over the past several months, I have developed a rather strong attachment to another member of the Enterprise’s crew.”
Did T’Pol just say she was attracted to someone? Jealously flares. I want to ask her who it is, but allow her to continue instead.

“I tried to suppress such feelings. I have observed his inter-species relationships before, and have discovered his patterns to be one of serial monogamy in which he frequently exchanges partners. I did not wish to . . . " her voice falters and I feel my own anger rising.

Whoever this SOB is, I plan to make a personal visit to his quarters later and practice a little exchange of my own. One that involves my fist. How could he hurt T’Pol the way he obviously has?

“…did not wish to become one of many. I wished to be. . .”

“Special?” I supply. T’Pol responds only with a nod.

“T’Pol, look, ya gotta realize, ya are special. Guys like that, well, that’s just the way they are. They have a perfectly nice woman, and they aren’t content. Always gotta move on to the next conquest. Ya deserve better, T’Pol,” I tell her. Ya deserve me. I would never, ever, want anyone else but you.

But that wasn’t gonna be. Because T’Pol was in love with someone else.

T’Pol is shaking her head. “No, Commander Tucker, you misunderstand. My initial hesitations were incorrect. He was capable of maintaining a long term relationship with one female. In fact, he has been maintaining one such relationship with another female,” she corrects.

Not only is he an SOB, but he’s a fool, too. Who in their right mind would turn T’Pol away? For another woman.

“Tell me who it is, T’Pol. I’ll go give him a good, hard, kick in the ass,” I vow. She turns to me then, and raises an eyebrow.

***

“Why would you want to cause him bodily harm, Commander?” I ask the one who has been strangely quiet this evening. His quietness has caused me great concern. I judge his emotions by his verbal outbursts and when there are none, it is difficult to determine what he is feeling.

“Well, cuz he hurt ya, number one,” he responds. His voice lowers in decimal level, and he continues, “and because he’s makin’ ya leave.”

Again I feel the faint stirrings of hope course through my veins. It is an emotion I am beginning to appreciate.

“You would be unhappy without my presence, Commander?” I ask. It is the closest I have come to asking what his feelings are for me.

The look he gives me is one that is incredulous. “Of course I’ll be unhappy, T’Pol!” he exclaims.

An emotional response. That is pleasing. However, it is not emotional enough to warrant Lieutenant Reed’s claims nor to risk our friendship. I must determine the reasons for his unhappiness. He could simply be going to miss a friend.

“Why would you be unhappy?”

He sighs, and glances down at his hands. He is apparently quite fascinated with them, as he refuses to meet my stare as he replies.

“I’d be unhappy cuz I have real strong feelings for ya, T’Pol,” he says. His voice is so quiet that it is difficult to hear him and I wonder briefly if my own emotional state has allowed me to delude myself into hearing him say what I want him to say.

I must be certain. “Feelings, Commander?”

Again, he is uncharacteristically quiet. I find it to be quite unsettling when my Commander is quiet. It is not keeping with the character traits that I know. The character traits that have forced me to grow fond of him.

I find myself wishing he would become his usual emotional self.

“Yeah, feelings, T’Pol. How do I tell ya this? I’ve never been good at this. All the women in my life have made the first move and told me how they felt first.”

He is standing and I know I should say something. He takes three steps and is standing directly in front of me. Raising his hand to my chin, he tilts my head in order to look into my eyes.

Had I stayed on Vulcan, I would never have known the aesthetic pleasure blue eyes can hold.

I start to talk but he uses his other hand to place his index finger on my lips. My mind reels at the touch. But I know it to be a human gesture which means “be quiet.” So I allow my Commander to continue.

“But you’re special, T’Pol. Much more special than the rest of ‘em . . . So, I owe you this-- to tell you and to come to you, even if you don’t return it. I--I care about you a lot, T’Pol. I’ve been tryin’ to settle for friendship, because I figured that’s all ya want. And hell, ya care enough about some other man to leave the ship, so I guess I shouldn’t tell ya, but . . . I care about ya, T’Pol. And not just as a friend, either.”

He removes his finger from my lips. I find it to be an action I lament.

I attempt to reply, but find it difficult to do so. My Commander’s close proximity is making it difficult to function properly. My nasal passages are consumed by his scent, my tactile senses frenzied by the lingering feel of his fingers on my lips.

Not Just As a Friend.

I must tell him how I feel. If I do not, I stand to lose much more than his friendship.

“Commander, I do not wish for you to cause bodily harm to the man I spoke of earlier,” I tell him.

He misunderstands my intention and the blood rushes to his facial region, resulting in a flushing of his cheeks. It is a most handsome sight--to see my Commander struggling to control his emotions.

Soon, we both shall allow ourselves to lose control.

“Course not, T’Pol,” he murmurs. “I--I guess ya aren’t too keen on me hurtin’ someone ya love, huh?”

“No, I am not. However, that is not the only reason I do not want you to try to give him a ‘kick in the ass.’ " I respond.

“Oh? What’s the other reason?” he asks. My Commander sounds unhappy.

He is unhappy because he believes I care for some other male. My foolish, foolish Commander.

“I have two. First, I do not believe he hurt me intentionally. Second, while I am aware that you are in excellent physical condition, I believe even you would have difficulty in kicking your own posterior region.”

My Commander looks up at me quickly. As realization spreads across his features, I feel a sense of foolishness for not having told him earlier.

“T-T’Pol . . . do ya mean. . . ya have feelings for me, too?” he questions.

I am uncertain how to verbalize a response. How can I logically tell of the emotional war that has been raging inside since the fateful conversation with Captain Archer? Of the feelings of fondness I could never know for another man? Finding it difficult to articulate my thoughts with words, I decide instead on a more physical response.

I smile. I find it most gratifying to do so.

***

Damn. She’s smiling.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything before?” I ask her, hoping that smile won’t go away.

It doesn’t.

“I told you, Commander. I did not wish to jeopardize our friendship,” she replies.

“And when the Cap’n told ya about Hoshi--“ I stop as I see the smile disappear. Well, how about that? Jon was right. She is jealous.

T’Pol is jealous over me. I couldn’t be happier if I woke up tomorrow and Enterprise had the capability to go to warp 10.

“You and Ensign Sato . . . ?” she begins to question, but I place my finger across her lips for the second time.

“Nothin’ serious, darlin’. She was lonely and so was I. She wanted someone; he didn’t want her and I thought I was in the same situation. But every time I touched her, I was thinkin’ of you.”

“That pleases me, Trip.” I can’t help but grin even wider at the sound of my nickname. She actually said it. And we aren’t standing on any cliffs, either. Neither of us.

“It pleases me that you’re pleased, darlin’,” I draw gently. Finding that I no longer can resist the urge to touch her, I cup her face with both my hands and delight in those deep brown eyes. Nothin’ more beautiful in the world. Using my palms to support her chin, I allow my thumb and index finger to caress her cheek.

Touchin’ my T’Pol. After so much wantin’ and waitin’. I never want to stop. I trail my index finger along her bottom lip, and she opens her mouth partially, allowing a soft moan to escape her lips.

I’m touchin’ T’Pol and she’s moaning. If this turns out to be a dream, I’m gonna jump out the nearest air lock.

“Trip,” she says, makin’ my name sound like the most beautiful sound in the English language, “I was under the impression that humans used lip to lip contact, not finger to mouth contact. Thus, while I appreciate your touch, I would appreciate it more if you would familiarize me with the lip to lip custom.”

She just asked me to kiss her. Even in my wildest fantasies, this never happened.

“I’ll be happy to oblige ya, darlin’,” I murmur, leaning down to touch her lips to mine. As our mouths touch, T’Pol’s hands reach up and wrap themselves around my head, forcing me to deepen the kiss.

I’m happy to follow her lead.

When she allows us to come up for air, she begins to caress my face, copying the movements I had done moments ago. I hadn’t ever thought a Vulcan’s touch could be so . . . delicate.

“Trip,” she practically moans, “you are a most handsome structure of a man. I find your physical presence very . . . stimulating.”

“Yes, I seem to recall ya saying something about noticin’ I’m in good shape. I gotta say, I find you just as stimulatin’. Hell, probably more so,” I admit, as I lean forward to kiss the lower tip of her left ear. Someone once told me ears are an erogenous zone with Vulcans. By the way T’Pol reacted, I’d say they are right.

After a moan more intense than any woman’s ever made in my presence, T’Pol whispers huskily-yep, T’Pol, my beautiful, stoic Vulcan whispers huskily-- “I should like to see just how fit your body really is.” She tugs at the zipper on my uniform. “All of it,” she adds.

Well, it inn’t gentlemanly to deny a lady’s request, now is it?

With purely chivalrous thoughts in mind, I struggle out of my clothes and help T’Pol out of hers. I then guide her to the bed in a gentlemanly like fashion.

****

Three point five minutes after Trip and I have copulated, I remain in close proximity, with his arms still wrapped tightly around
my waist.

I recall how unpleasant I found the smell of humans to be when I came aboard. However, I now relish the scent of the human lying next to me, and I reflect that his post-coitus scent is even more appealing.

“Ya know, darlin’, I don’t know if I’m ever gonna get used to the idea of you smilin’ like that,” his voice interrupts my thoughts.

Had I smiled? I am not aware of doing so. Still, my Trip will not lie to me. I know this. It is somewhat disconcerting to know that I can lose my control in his presence without even realizing it.

“I will smile for you, my Trip,” I whisper. “And I will smile often.”

“I take that to mean ya’ve given up on this foolish notion of leavin’ the Enterprise?” he asks.

“I could never leave you, my Trip,” I reply. I do not anticipate the ease of telling the Intrepid that I have changed my mind. But I will not leave this man.

“I like it when ya call me ‘my Trip,’” he says, taking my hand in his. Gently, he runs his index and middle fingers over my corresponding appendages, as I showed him during our time of copulation. The Vulcan equivalent of a kiss.

I can say nothing in response. He is my Trip. Not Ensign Sato’s. Nor anyone else’s. He is mine.

My Trip is takes my lack of a reply to ask a question. It is to be expected. He is quite a vocal human.

I appreciate his vocalization.

“T’Pol, what did you mean about me bein’ a ‘serial monogamist?’ I haven’t had that many relationships, ya know.”

I tilt my head upward so that I may once again look into those very un-Vulcan blue eyes.

“Ah’Len, Lianna, Kaitaama.” I reply.

My Trip chuckles. “Ah, I knew somebody was jealous. Especially with Lianna. Ya never needed to be, darlin’. I never wanted any of ‘em the way I want you.”

I am about to respond when I hear Archer’s voice over the comm. link. “Archer to T’Pol.”

My Trip grumbles an expletive, but I raise and walk over to the comm. “T’Pol here.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Sub-Commander,” the Captain says, sounding oddly sincere. “But we’ve been contacted by an alien race called the Thunterians and they’ve requested help rescuing several of their crewman. Doing so requires taking a shuttle down to the surface of their planet. I wouldn’t ask you to go, Sub-Commander, but you are our science officer--“

“And it is only appropriate. I understand, Captain, and I will be on the bridge momentarily.”

“Thanks, T’Pol. Archer out.”

“Ya know, T’Pol, ya really shouldn’t walk around naked like that. Makes it hard for me to control myself,” my Trip tells me as I reach for my uniform.

“As I recall, my Trip, you’ve always had difficulty controlling yourself, whether I am naked or not. Further, as we have just completed the act of copulation, I did not anticipate your needing to replicate the act so soon.” I reply.

He smiles at me and I ponder the fact that no other human smile is quite as exhilarating. Considering the response it evokes from me, it is beneficial that it has no duplicate.

“Well, someone once told me that Vulcans have twice the stamina of humans. I’m just tryin’ to keep up with ya.”

“I imagine that was Kov. He relayed that you had been quite interested in Vulcan sexual habits.” I smile again at the look of surprise on my Trip’s face. “But you should relax, my Trip. From what I have seen, you need not worry about your stamina being inferior to a Vulcan male.”

My Trip elicits a small laugh. “Y'r not bad yourself, kid.”

“I must go now, th’y’la,” I tell him, zipping up my uniform. I walk over to the bed and kiss him goodbye on the lips. He responds with the Vulcan equivalent.

“I expect ya to tell me what that means when ya get back, Polly,” he tells me.

I nod. “I will. And we will also discuss your disturbing penchant for nicknames, my Trip.”

His laughter accompanies me out into the corridor.

I pass several crewmen on my way to the turbo lift and am disturbed to see them giving me looks of alarm. As I get board the turbo lift, I am greeted by Ensign Sato. She too looks surprised to see me.

“Is there a problem, Ensign?” I ask the woman who never held the love of my Trip.

“N-no, Sub-Commander. It’s just, well, we don’t usually get the privilege of seeing you smile,” she tells me.

That man shall be my undoing. His actions have caused me to express emotion in public. I shall have to increase my mediation to counteract his affects on me. It is a small sacrifice to pay for what I shall receive in return.

“It has been an extraordinary evening, Ensign,” is all I tell her. Still, the Ensign is quite bright.

“Well, good for Trip. It’s about time,” she says. There is no malice in her voice and my thoughts drift back to my conversation with Lieutenant Reed.

About time is a human statement which I have translated to relate to an activity which one has longed for over an extended period. It usually insinuates that the object desired was one that provoked great longing among the individual. A longing which is eliminated when the individual achieved the said object of desire. The change in circumstance unfailingly results in extreme happiness among the individual.

“Yes, Ensign,” I tell the woman beside me. “It’s about time indeed.”

***
~FIN~

A/N: Okay, I changed my mind and decided that this is the end. I still see a great deal more conflict--the Vulcans aren’t likely to co-operate, H/R for example-but I have no idea when I’ll be able to update this piece or if I will be able to do so soon, so I decided to change it and make this the end. Who knows? Maybe I’ll make this a trilogy someday. There are a LOT of loose ends to tie up!

A/N, II: To those of you having trouble seeing T’Pol smiling-that’s the point. Watch Star Trek IV--Sarek is practically grinning ear to ear with Spock. Special occasions, my friends, special occasions. Speaking of friends-- thanks to pooka_hare for reminding me that Trip usually only gives after he’s been prodded. T’Pol is special. Also, thanks to those of you at Trip/T’Polers for sending me to “Romance and the Captains” at startrek.com. I had been planning on an unhappy ending, but I read that article and changed my mind. Finally, thanks to zealousgirl for all of her encouragement via reviews.

Please R/R-it nurtures my still newbie heart and encourages the muse.

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Half a dozen of you have made comments

Same on you Sam !! You big tease you !!
Great story - you would need a chainsaw to cut through the angst.
After reading "The captain & romance" on StarTrek.com please tell me its got a happy ending.
Keep it coming.

What a wonderful confection, but oh the angst! I adore the introspection into T'Pol's emotional turmoil and can't wait for the next part. This is so well written and the pain just bleeds out of it. Please don't let T'Pol go before Trip can tell her how he really feels. Thanks for another terrific story, Ali D :~)

I really have been enjoying your story.I hope Trip won't say something cruel to drive T'Pol away to have him admit how he really feels about her leaving.That he doesn't want her to go.I have a feeling Hoshi was the one who went to speak with T'pol at the end of chapter 3.

This was a great story! I'm so glad you decided to go with the happy ending.

Oh, a happy ending was definately the way to go. Great job, I'd love for this to be a trilogy. Just to see what the Vulcans do. Thanks!

awww that was beautiful, thank you :D