Territorial

"Bound" Fic CHALLENGE

Territorial

By Sue

E-Mail: susieqla@yahoo.com
Website: None.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Star Trek Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. I am not making any profit from this.
Category: Romance/Het
Summary: Missing scenes...(possibly, of course).
Archive: All Enterprise archives are fine.

Spoiler(s): "Divergence," possible spoilers for "Bound."

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"Birds of a feather...birds of a feather...birds," Archer kept muttering more to himself than to Porthos. The captain was confusing the poor animal. "They're both as stubborn as hell." The masculine scent of Enterprise's former chief engineer still hung heavily in the captain's quarters. The blond human had left some time ago. "Why
hadn't I seen it way before this?" The dregs of the conversation he had had with his friend weighed on his mind. "Now he expects me to pull strings, personal ones, and get him back here...as though I've got Erika wrapped around my little finger. Oh, yeah, sure. It's more like the other way 'round. Just so he and T’Pol can pick up where they left off..."

Solidly, Jonathan plunked himself down upon his bunk, images of his shapely elfin first officer and her man of choice, with hang doggish eyes, needing time to *commune,* flooring him all over again. "Commune, so that's what they're calling it. Well, I guess this truly
takes me out of the picture once and for all," he blurted into empty space. "It's been Trip all along...go figure..." The other nagging voice, he was so used to hearing right before dropping off to sleep insinuated, (Maybe if you'd been nicer to her, not goading her nearly
every step of the way...it'd be *you* she'd be sharing that mating bond with, and not...)

Archer stopped, rolled his eyes while inviting his best four-footed friend into his lap. "Women...go figure," he said, sounding analytical with a hint of tight resignation blended in. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em. And one that's Vulcan?" Porthos did his best not to yelp a bit under his master's determined hand that scratched behind his ears, literally digging into his pelt. The
canine flinched, but would not forsake the comfort and security of his master's warm lap, knowing where one belonged overcame all discomfort. "A Lorian in their future might not be so farfetched after all. Imagine that...Trip and T'Pol with kids...God, bless 'em--and help me get over it."

---------------

The pair of green-skinned beauties, twins, though not identical, knew what they wanted, had all along. Their stealthy persistence would soon pay off. There would be no holding back. It wasn't hard for them to stalk their handsome, virile prey who wasn't surrounded by others in the way. They'd been on his trail ever since his leaving
Engineering. What a prize he was; his coloring captivated them!

The delicious male exuded heady, libidinous pheromones like no other aboard this cramped vessel. It was nectar to their noses and stoked their ardor. He was driving them out of their one-track minds with salacious desire. Finally, the time to strike was now. They'd have their frenzied way with the sensual human male, although, once they were done with him, he might not live to tell the tale.

Tucker, blithely unsuspecting, was on his way to T'Pol's. On the whole, he wasn't quite sure if he was totally sold on the idea of their being bonded. There were far too many grey areas which his mind chalked up as being unknown for him to fully realize what their being linked in the way T’Pol had described, meant.

What he did know was that he still loved T'Pol, loved her deeply, with each passing day. The numerous daydreams and the vivid presentiments of his nighttime slumbers made better sense, at least more than when he was having them minus a clue.

T'Pol had explained as best she could, given the time constraints. Enterprise's engines--his engines--needed him. He certainly wasn't here on a social call, any affair of the heart. Kelby was a joke! Where had he managed to unlearn *everything* a first year engineering
student knew cold in his or her sleep? Talk about something or some*one* needing critical upgrades.

Trip's mind turned to more tender matters. All it did was whisper his sweetheart's name, and mitigating strains of rancor and belligerence seeped clean out of him. The power his Vulcan wielded over him was remarkable, and was habit forming in its effortlessness. Was it possible T'Pol had begun feeling the same, and this mystical bond
had forced her hand? And about time too! A lovesick guy could only withstand so much.

With just one kiss, the one T'Pol had initiated, searing her lips to his, every misread or mistaken conclusion had fallen into sublime place. That one magical buss had been all the convincing he'd needed. Where did he think he was going after such a devastating lip lock? (Baby, I'm yours, now and forever, if that's how you want it.) had sprung into mind with her applying even more pressure, but he'd
suppressed saying so aloud. He could feed off her kisses for the rest of his natural life. She had latched onto him as though her life had depended upon it, not daring herself to ever let him go. What a revelation. He belonged here with her, his T'Pol. Mercifully, the days of making believe nothing romantic existed between them were at long last over.

(They'd better be over. She said only death would sever this bond, but she could've just been sayin' that 'cause she's too stubborn to admit she's missed me every bit as much as I've missed her. If she starts outlinin' why a lovin' relationship between us is pointless, I'll...I'll...)

Reprimanding, his mind sued for the positive. He'd engaged in enough negative thinking to last him several lifetimes.

(Sexual exploration and experimentation be damned! Man, I've got me some woman. Amen...) Trip thought as, jauntily, he rounded the corridor, adjunct to his final destination. (Love was never like this...) His heart was skipping beats all over the place.

As though a second sense told him to, he wielded around suddenly. Something not altogether concrete alerted him he wasn't alone, leastwise not wholly. But there was nothing to see when he looked behind, so after shrugging he kept going. T'Pol's quarters were coming into view. He quickened his pace and looked behind himself again, still not seeing anyone or thing. (Get a grip, Tucker.) He smiled with a chuckle. His smile held until he heard sultry female voices calling him in unison.

"Ah, Commander...Tucker..."

(Damn, Orion slave babes...)

Gliding to Trip's either side, the comely females ran delicate fingers up and down his arms in tandem. "You look to be in need of some willing female companionship, Commander." It was stereo of a decidedly ardent nature.

Something in Trip hiccupped as his brow grew moist. His jittery vision shifted from one winsome beauty to the other who, and it wasn't his imagination, were profusely licking their puffy lips, like they were all set to do some serious chow-downing. The weird idea of how many pairs of lips these two had used theirs on since boarding
Enterprise streaked through Trip's addled mind.

Oh, yeah, sure, Orion slave girls...every crewman's wet dream. These provocative two in particular, clothed in next to nothing, had been checking him out since their eventful arrival. Fine, dandy, if you had nothing but fantasies to live on. His bona fide one was not more
than a meter away, and come hell or high water or voluptuous Orion vixens, nothing was going to stop him from realizing what his soul demanded. His hew and cry was T'Pol being all the woman he needed, wanted...loved.

"Er...uh, if you two ladies will excuse me..."

Excusing him was far from their intention. The slightly taller of the two already had Trip halfway out of his uniform while the other had taken to nipping him up and down his jaw line. Then she bit him in earnest, drawing a little blood by his ear, and Trip yelped in startled surprise. These gals were nothing to toy with, he sternly
realized, trying his best to shake them off. His dogged efforts were in vain, as the frightening realization that being double-teamed by this nympho version of Sylla and Charybdis could do him real harm. These grabby she-wolves gave a new, dangerous meaning to the expression, 'having a grip like a mongoose.'

The excited girl who had bitten the commander went for his jugular but short of closing in, he fended her off with a glancing blow. Striking a woman went sorely against his code of being a gentleman, but these ladies weren't treating him like one. His uniform was down around his
knees. (They're gonna rape me right here if I don't put a stop to it) trampled any other rational thought.

Somehow, Trip struggled on towards T'Pol's door, scant inches from it. He latched onto the barest of a handhold and held on, hoping for a miracle that would free him from this perverted bondage. (This might be Malcolm's idea of heaven, but it sure as hell's not mine!) Trip kept muscling for some leverage, but was given minimal give in return. His hand convulsed for the door's caller panel, but was knocked away by the aggressor on his right. Her twin pinned both of Trip's arms behind his back with a twisted expression of pure glee.

"Y-you don't wa-wanna do this!" The voracious looks on their feminine faces advised otherwise. "Girls, plea--"

"Begging is unnecessary, Commander." The agile women had succeeded in grappling him to the deck. "Why do you resist?" the pair demanded of him as the nimbler of the two straddled Trip at the waist and ran her hands up and down his damp bared chest. His growth of hair fascinated
her to no end. The more she rubbed, the more frenetic she became, with her sister vying for the same action.

"Why?" Trip ground out, feeling himself lose composure, as a brazen hand then probed shamelessly between his legs. "WHY? 'Cause I'm not a damn piece of meat--that's why! Now--let me up! Or so help me!" It hit home exactly what hapless women the star system over went through in similar degrading circumstances. "Get the hell--" He tried bucking the one straddling him off, but her strong, sinewy legs clamped around his middle that much tighter. Any tighter and he'd be losing consciousness in no seconds flat. "Stop--sto--stop!!" His protests were muffled, then swallowed by the other Orion who was attacking his mouth with maniacal zest. Trip tore his besieged mouth away from hers enough to gasp faintly, "Help!"

Tucker went limp, confusedly deciding that perhaps it was better to let the powerful females have their animalistic ways with him than be torn apart by their savagery. Just as that fuzzy thought ebbed, and tears leaked from his eyes, a piercing cry jolted his mind, putting a swift halt to the Orions' illicit frenzy. Trip craned his head
up a hair and witnessed a cathartic sight when his teary eyes beheld a bellicose T'Pol readying to spring to the defense of *her* compromised mate.

"Darlin'..."

"There will be no warning," T'Pol announced to the snarling duo, who, although knew of a Vulcan's superior strength, doubted very much that this slender, slip of one was any match for the two of them. Dressed in her dreamy blue pajamas, T'Pol seemingly posed no threat. "You were already warned, but refused to heed."

A winded Trip gave T'Pol the faintest of nods which she quietly acknowledged. Mustering enough momentum, he rolled himself out of the way right after T'Pol pounced on the one who had straddled him. Before the Vulcan, feral in her own right, dealt with that one, she drop side-kicked her trilling sister, the biter, back against the bulkhead nearly opposite her quarters. The writhing girl lay stunned for several minutes and when she tried to move, T'Pol planted her foot squarely in her ribs.

Angry, but controlled, the Vulcan was poetic justice in motion. The straddler thought she would pin the countering rival to the deck. Unlike that time in the gym when T'Pol had been distracted by Amanda Cole's antics with Trip, and she had been caught off guard by her
sparring partner, this time, with her mate's safety at stake, there was no repeat of failure on T'Pol's part. Her series of deft evasive moves and subsequent parries were balletic.

The straddler had met her formidable match in T'Pol. The titillating commander wasn't the only man on this simple ship. There were many more who had yet to enjoy what unadulterated ecstasy was. When she, along with her bedraggled sister dared to hoist themselves to their feet, T'Pol lunged at them with arms crossed and teeth bared, the consummate victor. Unceremoniously, The losers took off at break neck speed, desperate to get away from the insane Vulcan hellcat who had kicked their shapely butts up and down this echoing corridor.

Trip leaned on his elbows, looking dazed as he shook his head to clear it. A trifle disheartened he said, "Honey, I did nothin' to encourage 'em. Believe me. I swear, so help me. I called 'em ladies, and they were all over me, all systems go, honest."

"They are anything but your Human misnomer," T'Pol judged, sounding as confirmatory as she looked, although to Trip she looked as stoic as ever.

"I was headin' straight for your door, but they had other ideas." Trip saw a glimmer of anger spike in T'Pol's attentive eyes. "You're the only woman, woman enough for me," he added quickly.

"They are..." An eyebrow raised when she said, "Tramps. They discredit women no matter the species." T'Pol ran coolly concerned eyes, appraising every injury, over him before helping him back into his uniform and to his feet. "You should go to Sickbay. I will accompany you."

"Maybe, but I don't want to. Phlox'll ask too many nosey questions, like the ones he already has. You know how he is, and I don't feel like sharin' my time with you with him. I'm fine, I'll live." He risked a rebuff but kissed her cheek anyway. "Thanks to you. Remind me I always want you on *my* side."

"You risk infection, judging from your bite wounds." She wasn't about to argue with him. He was going, end of discussion.

"Oh, I'm sure they've had their shots," Trip quipped, trying to song and dance his way out of getting medical attention. He was more intent on having T'Pol's undivided variety.

Not sounding amused, well not for her, anyway, T'Pol replied, "You would give those two the benefit of the doubt? Their nearly violating you merits your granting them such confidence?" She hadn't quite managed to keep the disappointment from her voice.

"Now you're gettin' technical." Trip swatted the air in front of her perfect nose that twitched with a beat of expectancy.

T'Pol stopped reasoning with him. Reasoning usually seemed to reinforce barriers, and the more she knew him, the more she realized there was more than one way to get him to see logic. What was their relationship built on? It was a daunting question, but one she needed
to know the answer to, if only partially, at best. Their future hinged on it. When she opened her mouth, the gentle push of air lent persuasion. "Please..."

"Please what?" Trip finagled.

Without hesitation, T'Pol conceded, "Please, Trip..."

"Hmm...give me a minute to think about it," he said haltingly, bordering on laughingly. He never thought he'd see the day, T'Pol hanging on his words. "Okay, I've thought about it. Let's go."

Guilelessly, T'Pol nodded in compliance. "Allow me a moment to dress myself suitably."

Trip arched his eyebrows. "On one condition..."

T'Pol matched his arch eyebrow for eyebrow. "What is your condition?"

"You let me help."

Amazingly, she felt more than a little tempted, wanting to roll her eyes, but self-control won out. "Perhaps I will require your assistance removing clothing, later...before retiring."

Trip's eyes lit up as they bugged-out, aglow with delight. "Say that's an invitation."

Edging towards her doorway, T'Pol humored, "More along the lines of a request."

"A request...uh, do I get any?" he bartered.

"What is your request?" T'Pol inquired, her voice fragile, compliant, almost breaking. Trip thought he would see just how active their bond was by eliminating any guesswork. Before disappearing into her quarters, she returned his kiss gently upon his cheek, just the way
he wanted, leaving the battered and bruised commander supremely content. "I won't be long," she promised.

"I know you won't," Trip teased with a grin suitable for framing. He didn't follow her inside, choosing to wait outside her quarters, the soul of propriety.

---------------

Phlox stepped back from the last of Trip's wounds he'd just treated. Trip, and T'Pol too, for that matter, were at a loss for understanding the doctor's atypical reticence. Where had his bubbly disposition gone? This was a Phlox who made them uncomfortable for an entirely different reason.

"Somethin' wrong, Doc?" Trip finally ventured, noting that the physician's frown had become more pronounced and his manner even more diffident.

Sensing Phlox' reluctance to express himself, T'Pol coaxed, "Are Mister Tucker's injuries more serious than your initial evaluation led you to believe?"

"No, no. There is no trace of pestiferous infection, none whatsoever, nor range of motion trauma." Endorsing the prediction with his usual smiling nod of approval, Phlox continued, "He should heal nicely. There'll be no scarring, Commander."

"You're sure 'bout that, Doc?" Trip allowed. Painfully, with embarrassment, he recalled how, maddened, the more aggressive of the Orions had bitten him in some very ticklish places.

"Positive," the gazing Denobulan vouched.

"Then why do I..." Searchingly, Trip looked into T'Pol's placid face, the one only he could read, most times. Her vibes were clear; she wasn't as convinced. "Why do we get the feelin' you're not tellin' us everythin'?"

The doctor was decidedly squeamish. "Far be it from me to...it's really none of my business," he said, his tone evasive, as though he had begun walking on eggshells. T'Pol had unnerved him when she had gone into that episode of premature Pon Farr. He would never forget
the naked lust in her devouring eyes. "What you do in the privacy...of...your own...quarters... Just exercise some..." He began again. "The Commander is Human, after all, easily subject to superfluous injury."

Trip's eyebrows, and in less time it took for it to register with T'Pol, hers did too, leapt up. "Come again, Doc?"

"No, no really...it isn't. What you and T'Pol do with, or should I say to each other--" Phlox' face went stern. "Forget I ever--"

(Oh no he doesn't), Trip processed, seeing through Phlox' hesitancy, and felt himself getting prickly. "You've got to be kiddin' me--you think *T'Pol* did this to me?" The southerner slid off the biobed and took up a protective stance alongside the woman who owned his heart, lock, stock and palpitations. "T'Pol had nothin' to do with this--so don't you go thinkin' she did. She'd never be capable of doin' to me what those two Orion she-devils did! They nearly ate me alive!" Through their bond, T'Pol infused Trip with calming thoughts and the
commander, though perplexed, calmed himself nevertheless.

(Phlox is only concerned for your welfare, t'hyla, as am I.)

Trip winced and shot T'Pol a rattled look.

"Oh, so your injuries are the result of an unfortunate run-in with our alluring female guests." Phlox' better nature was returning. He thought it unnecessary for him to divulge his own rapturous exploit with one elegant Orion, in particular. Maras was her name, Phlox believed she was called.

Sensing her mate grope for defining words, T'Pol supplied Phlox with an explanation that satisfied him. "Ah, I see," he said, taken aback by his own rushing to a wrong conclusion. "Forgive my presumption." He eyed T'Pol speculatively. "I suppose your telepathic link will come into play with the onset of the equivalent of Pon Farr for
females when the time comes."

Furtively, Trip exchanged a questioning look with Phlox, then an open expression of being at a loss with T'Pol. "Pon Farr for females?" His tone was none too confident. "You mean lady Vulcans go through the exact same thing as your men?" The commander pulled on his chin. "No. No...well, you know, *none* for seven years, and than whammo, non-stop until the fever's over?"

Phlox had overstated the case, and T'Pol felt like telling him so, but she set her feelings aside. "Not exactly. I have yet to reach that stage in my maturation." Somewhat testily, a definitive look of dismissal playing about her eyes, T'Pol wished the matter of what Trip could look forward to when that time came, closed. "Doctor, thank you for your timely attention."

Trip wasn't put off that handily. "Think you could fill me in on exactly *what's* supposed to happen? Now?" Trip inveigled, and threw hinting looks at Phlox so he'd use his specialized influence to urge T'Pol to be more informative. Again, through their bond, she soothed the disquiet that was clouding Trip's energetic mind, but met with some resistance. "I'm only flesh and blood, ya know. I mean, I work out, a lot, but...is there a chance I'll get hurt?"

T'Pol was disinclined to say, and Trip felt things coming from her he didn't like, made him uncomfortable. He allowed her influence to assuage him though, and he reconsidered. The bottom line was she'd never hurt him, and he knew it, whether driven out of her mind by lust, or otherwise. She was T'Pol, and that made it right.

He'd let the matter lie, thinking it better he cap his misgivings for the time being. The last thing he wanted to do was damper T'Pol's affectionate feelings, feelings he had hoped for, for so long to blossom. He wasn't going to blow it now. Nope, not now.

"The Vulcan database would be very helpful, supplying such sensitive information," the doctor said categorically. "In my somewhat limited experience--"

"Ya know, Doc, on second thought, I'll be just fine." Trip settled his arm around T'Pol's shoulders, and he marveled at how she didn't seem to mind. Quickly, he amended, "*We'll* be just fine..." He'd press it, and gave his mate a light peck on her earlobe, and T'Pol
still acted as though they were quite alone, sharing affection in private. "Won't we?" Trip directed to her and instead of nodding she made him smile, stroking him through the bond.

(Do you trust me, Trip?)

Nodding, and perplexing an amazed Phlox further, Trip responded...

(If I didn't I never would have agreed to come back here, to stay...I love you, T'Pol...trust...it goes with the territory.)

Filling the doctor in, Trip said, "We trust each other." The atmosphere in Sickbay seemed to overflow with warmth while Phlox looked on, projecting a unique, if not invariably tumultuous future for the pragmatic Vulcan and the excitable Human.

"Like T'Pol said, thanks for patchin' me up, Doc."

"Anytime, Commander, anytime," Phlox brightly chirped, watching the amorous couple make their way to the doors. "Just be sure to give Orion slave girls a wide berth."

"I've got nothin' to worry about. Not with my gorgeous pit bull by my side." Firmly, Trip patted T'Pol's upper arm, giving it two playful squeezes afterwards. "If ya ask me, the Orions are no big deal. I can't see what the guys are makin' all the fuss about."

(You speak wisely...)

(Tell me about it, darlin'.)

Trip was about to push a door panel open, but his free hand was nearly knocked back into his face upon the captain's abrupt, jagged entrance. Barging in, the ranking officer had practically bammed into Trip's and T'Pol's questioning faces. "Phlox, I've got this headache," Archer stormily announced, "it's a real beaut--"

"You are unwell, Captain?" T'Pol inquired, seeing the discomfort plainly on his face.

"Nah, if I didn't have this pounding in my brain, I'd be fine." Steadily, Jonathan locked eyes with his science officer and his buddy who had left him high and dry. Neither of their gazes withered under Jon's degree of scrutiny. His thought kept recurring, (Why couldn't it have been me?) when he couldn't stop looking at T'Pol. "I suppose I should get started on your request for transferal back to Enterprise," he offered to Trip, somewhat on the gruff side.

"I'd appreciate it, Cap'n," the younger man accepted, oblivious to his friend's terse tone. However, he felt obliged then to remove his arm from around T'Pol. Though he and she were off-duty, he felt a little
self-conscious with the captain staring them baldly in the face with something akin to disapproval in his eyes.

Looking and sounding inscrutable, T'Pol indicated, "If you will excuse us, Captain, Mister Tucker and I have some unfinished business to attend to." Despite her aloofness, T'Pol's attitude wasn't a mystery to decipher. She began making small strides for the exit with Trip
imperiously in tow.

Sounding high-pitched and young, Trip attested, "Uh, yeah. She's gonna teach me how to mediate." He yielded to the determined way in which T'Pol was leading him away.

Archer shot Phlox a cranky look. The doctor's smile deepened to its fullest potential. Way out of Trip's and T'Pol's earshot, well, Trip's anyway, since they had departed, the captain said with a wry expression working his face, "Mediate? Is that what they're calling *it* now?"

"Oh, by all means, Captain," Phlox corroborated, looking incredibly gleeful. "Meditation will strengthen their bond. The more they engage in it, the stronger it will be enhanced."

"Yeah, I bet. So, good...old-fashioned sex counts for nothing?" Archer badgered. He should feel happy for his loyal friend, but his old chum was the one who had wound up with 'the girl.' The woman that might have been his if he had tried a little harder, or hadn't been such a hard-nose through everything, practically. Where was another parallel universe, where things went *his* way for a change, when it was truly needed, Jon thought, looking wistful.

Phlox afforded Archer his patience. "Meditation will enhance their experience as a result of the greater closeness the practice entails."

"Sounds real cozy," Archer sourly replied, feeling as disagreeable as he felt and undoubtedly looked, judging from Phlox' surprising reaction.

"Ah, in the immortal words of one of Earth's illustrious bards...'It is better to have loved and lost...than to have never loved--"

"I know how the rest goes, Doctor. Believe me. I know..." Listlessly, way under his breath, Jonathan grumbled, "Unending story of my life." Archer gave a last rueful look at the Sickbay doors, pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded, "My headache, Phlox...what've you got?"

"Yes, yes, of course, Captain..."

---------------

"I like your quarters," T'Pol confessed.

"So do I," Trip playfully followed up, nipping all along her smooth jaw line, his right hand securely anchored around her waist. "Back to home, sweet home."

"Where you live may change," T'Pol said, sounding thoughtful, and as suggestive as she allowed.

"Or yours could," Trip replied, taking the bait. They both thought what they had said over until Trip broke the silence. "Ya think we could save meditatin' for later? After we..." He pulled on her dewy skin with eager lips. His other hand molded itself to a cheek of her trim backside. "Ya know..." They were closing in on his old stomping grounds which he had since reclaimed for, what he had thought would be, his brief stay back aboard Enterprise.

"Would you like that?" T'Pol tempted, half-heartedly trying to get him to stop undressing her right there in the corridor. "Logically, discipline should come first, then--"

"Discipline?" Trip incited, sounding scandalous. "Ooooh, just what I need. I'm such a bad boy..."

"And you believe I should make you good?" T'Pol traded, stringing him along, having missed their verbal jousts. My, how natural this felt, as though Trip were the only man put in this vast star system to go toe to toe with her. One day, she may tire of life, but never of Trip.

"Better, and you damn well know it. You're the only woman who's got and does it all for me. Kiss me the way you did a while back. You an' your kisses, talk about clinchers. I was all set to ditch you, ya know, once an' for all. No lookin' back." He homed in on her left ear in earnest. "You set me on fire, darlin'. Turn my world, which does happen to revolve around you, upside down and right side up again. You've yanked me clean off Columbia for good is what you've done. And see if I'd have it any other way."

(Putty in her pretty hands and she damn well knows that too, but what the hell...she's *mine*.)

T'Pol actually felt a smile coming on, hearing him think that loud and clear, and wondered if she should let the upward curving of her lips grow more pronounced. "I am honored by the feelings you possess for me."

"Let me show ya just how deep they run, darlin'," Trip persisted, hoping T'Pol would give in.

"But, meditation first...fire setting later," T'Pol said, actually cajoling him, managing to work herself free from his busy hands. While Trip occupied himself with trying to undo and peel off what kept her beautiful body shielded from his appreciative eyes, T'Pol stopped
resisting, becoming stone. Every nerve in her body was set on edge. "Your unwelcome admirers have returned. Obviously their keen sense of smell led them directly to your quarters."

Indeed, it was irritatingly true. The wolfen Orion women were at Trip's door and it was obvious they had one thing on their uncomplicated minds.

If Trip had not known T'Pol better, he would have sworn she had hissed the words and even used one of his more colorful cuss words. "They're determined varmints. I'll give 'em that. Quick, let's change venues and opt for your quarters."

Standing her ground, T'Pol looked and behaved as though it would take more than a grappler to make her budge. "It is apparent they have not learned what I thought I made clear." She disengaged herself from Trip and menacingly stared the women down. "They need, as you would say, 'a refresher.'"

"Wha'cha gonna do?" Trip tried to block approach to the Orions who panted in anticipation when he inadvertently brought himself a fraction nearer to them. "Aren't you the one who's proud of bein' a pacifist?"

"Not in this. Making it clear that *you* are *my* mate," T'Pol swore; a gleam Trip had seen before smoldered in her predatory eyes.

"There's that look again. If you're tryin' to scare me, you're doin' a great job." Trip waved a hand before her hypnotized expression, trying to catch her eye. "Look..." He snapped his fingers an inch from her nose and T'Pol snapped herself out of it. "I know, before. They had me at a real disadvantage. I wasn't prepared. I am now,
though. I'm flattered as hell you wanna defend my honor, as well as makin' it plain you've got dibs. An' as much as seein' ya whup-ass turned me on, what kind of self-respectin' male would I be just standin' meekly by lettin' ya? Like I can't hold my own, though I don't go around beatin' up on women."

With conviction she wanted him to know she truly felt, T'Pol said, "Your masculinity isn't on trial."

"Glad to hear it," he said with a sniff, "but I just thought of somethin', somethin' else I think I've heard about Orion women."

T'Pol saw the Orions step up their advance on them, and none too tentatively. If she was going to launch herself into action, now was the time, but she would hear Trip out. "What knowledge have you gained?"

As though still in the throes of convincing himself, Trip opined, "What say we give *this* a try. If it backfires, they're all yours...and mine...we whup-ass as a team."

(Give *what* a try?)

Hearing T'Pol's voice in his head, as clear as a bell, startled Trip. He doubted he'd ever get used to it, but he responded in kind, making a concerted effort not to move his lips, just to show T'Pol how adaptable he could truly be.

(Let's see what makin' out in front of them does for 'em.)

('Making out?')

(Yeah...)

Dividing her attention, with eyes still vigilant towards the creeping women, T'Pol voiced her inexperience frankly, "I don't under--"

"Yeah, ya do. Like this..." And with that, Trip grabbed T'Pol by her wrist, slammed her body against his, wrapping his arms about her as though he possessed eight of them, squeezing her tighter. Despite her
resilience, T'Pol gasped, but willingly followed his smitten lead.

(Pour it on, baby, like I know ya can...)

T'Pol dug the palms of her hands into his head as her fingers snaked through his soft, warm scalp, and the corridor filled with her ardent sighs. Feeling the reins of her control slip, she pressed herself against Trip with all her might. He had left because of her, but because of her, he would stay...be with her for as long as he lived. And she hoped he'd live a long, long time.

(I believe, as you'd most likely say, I'm along for 'the ride.')

(Like hell ya are!)

Greedily cupping T'Pol everywhere he could, Trip wormed a leg between her thighs and felt his mate shiver uncontrollably. All the while, the Orions wore fretful expressions of their being repulsed, which fit, since they were. It was one thing to fight another female for a male, it was quite another watching an embroiled couple preparing to mate. Which is where they drew the line in any quadrant of the star system.

Their lust quickly evaporated into disgust, and the exotic audience of two, as though they had tails to tuck between their statuesque legs as they backed off, left T'Pol and Trip to their repellent conventions.

(Like where we're goin' so far?)

(Yes...)

(I can't hear you...)

(YES, TRIP!)

(Do you love me, darlin'?)

(I...)

Trip raised his knee higher, finding just the right spot, and gently rubbed. The enraptured Vulcan, anchored in the frenzy her impulsive Human inspired, gasped for breath as though starved for air.

"T'HYLA," T'Pol erupted, very much out loud.

(I'm still havin' trouble hearin' ya. Do you love me?)

(YES, TRIP, YES! YES!)

Tearing his mouth away from T'Pol's, Trip said, a little watery-eyed when he wheezed, "Phew, that's better." He drew away from her, wanting to see if they still had unwanted company coupled with his wanting her to see how happy she made him. "They're gone. Guess that tidbit I picked up from somewhere--hey, I think it was Travis who told me, was true after all."

"You know many things," T'Pol generously awarded.

"How do ya know?" Trip asked coyly, bustling her into his arms once more.

"I know," she replied as sagely as he'd ever heard her.

"Know what I know?" Trip buried his face in the silky crook of T'Pol's neck.

"Yes, t'hyla, I do. I know what you know, but please, tell me..."

"I love you, and always will."

With a hearty laugh, Trip scooped T'Pol up into his arms and carried her off to where unrealized delights and fulfillments awaited them both. T'Pol heard herself tell Trip how meditation could wait, and unwaveringly, he agreed.

"Mine," she said as he whisked her into the familiar haunt.

"Yours," Trip assured, feeling giddy, the giddiest ever, whirling around the place with her, holding her with all the strength he possessed.

(Would ya?)

(I would...I do...and forever hold our peace...)

Trip nearly fell down, tripping over his own jelly feet. How much happiness could he stand? Considerable, since only a few days ago he had never felt more miserable in his entire life...never having the woman he loved, condemning himself to a loveless existence. But that
was an ancient memory. Who needed booze? T'Pol went straight to his head, and keeping it that way was his new goal in life.

They knew exactly what the other was thinking and they smiled into each other's misty eyes with their foreheads pressed together. In time, T'Pol strategically rested her finger pads against his face. "We now pronounce ourselves each other's," they whispered, sharing an
intimate breath, so in love and anxious to prove just how much, over and over again.

End

Continue to Territorial Part 2

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Eight hardy souls have made comments

OOOhhhh. *fans self*
That was beautiful.

I need a cold shower NOW.

My, oh, my... **sigh** WHEW! That was somethin'! Yes, I think a cold shower is in order... I loved Trip's alternative Orion Slave Girl Repellent ("SlaveOff") - I just knew someone (Archer, more than likely) was gonna cruise thru the corridor at that time! This way, they got to finish uninterrupted and they still get the thrill of their clandestine rendezvous for a while yet- yea! Great, fun story!!!

I liked this... except, I never saw Archer interested in T'Pol in *that* way, so the jealousy didn't wring true for me. I also prefer a close friendship between Archer and Trip. It almost disappeared in season 3!

The T/T moments are FABULOUS!!! You should definitely do a sequel... how the crew adjusts to the two of them after the Orions are gone! :-)

WOW!!!
An intergalactic girl fight.
I just love it when Polly kicks ass.
I loved the story
I also think that the whole Archer jealousy issue didnt add up considering he got the message in "A night in sickbay" when she practacly laughed her ass off at him sugesting and atraction between them.

Great fic. Please do a sequal and have Archer shack up with the OSG's, While T/T make T'babies. ;)

I loved T'Pol kicking those Orion Slave Girls' asses! Way to go T'Pol! And Archer with the green eyed monster in tow, silly man - get over it. So wonderful to have Trip and T'Pol bonded and both admitting to each other how they really feel. About time too! Ali D :~)

again, another wonderful addition to the challenge... and again, thanks for taking the time to answer... I loved it a lot. I give it an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10.

I wish I could say I liked it, but I didn't believe that Archer could be jealous (at least the way you wrote it) so that didn't ring true. And Trip's dialogue is (IMHO) way too wordy and overblown.........

An really great fic!!! I loved the way Trips inner thoughts were portrayed as well as his southern gentleman scruples that allowed the orions hellcats to get the better of a big strapping fellow such as himself. I tend to disagree with those who say that Archer couldnt really be jealous of Trip n T'Pol though. I remember the episode where the zindi had won and destroyed Earth and T'Pol was nursing Archer. He has obviously come to trust her over the years and he definitley aint blind so its not beyond the realms of possibility that he could have harboured secret fledgling feelings for her. However, he is a man driven by the captaincy of the Enterprise, the safety of his crew and the great explorers spirit(in this way, pretty much like JTK but more so). Even if he was as madly in love with T'Pol as Trip is its not in his makeup to act on it, he's got too many other things going on in his life(Porthos included!) to really get involved with a woman as deeply as he would have to get involved with T'Pol to satisfy her. A good captain is married to his ship(where have I heard that before?)but that doesnt stop him from musing and regretting on what might have been.
Great writing and very thought provoking. Well done!