While He Lay Sleeping

While He Lay Sleeping

by Sue

EMAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com
SUMMARY: An unexpected visitor pays the Commander a wee visit.
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: General
SPOILER: Shuttlepod One.
ARCHIVE: Yep, that's fine.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, Paramount and its omnipresent entities do. I'm making no profit whatsoever, indulging in this. I merely enjoy playing.

Sickbay was empty, with Phlox nowhere to be seen. Good, she thought to herself, still hesitating before acting upon her impulse. What if he wakes, she questioned herself, but dismissed the improbable. There had been enough drugs pumped into him to keep him out at least until sometime tomorrow at this time; per Dr. Phlox' sound orders.

Reed was sleeping comfortably now, as well, she noted. The steady rise and fall of his modest chest, garnering her arrested attention, albeit briefly, as she rekindled the reason she'd dared to come. This time it was her idea, not the Captain's.

Her steps were small and noiseless on her stealthy journey to the biobed upon which the recuperating Commander reclined.

His vitals had improved wonderfully since her last seemingly careless inspection under the critical eyes of the good doctor. Again, here she stood at his bedside, secure in the logical knowledge that Charles was going to be all right.

Why she found that thought comforting, she was at a large loss to understand in its totality. Regardless of what logic dictated, she felt compelled to check on him a final time before retiring for the night. She would rationalize away the fact that her feelings were gaining more of a say over her actions with each passing day, later.

Looking down at him, studying the peacefulness gentling the hard lines of his face, T'Pol glimpsed the little boy he must have been, once. For a moment that slipped by as quickly as its beginning, she smiled; doing what was so unlike her, or so she forced upon herself to believe. She had feelings for this uncouth, headstrong human, it did her little good to deny it.

The thought of never seeing him alive again, as she had stood on the bridge, observing Hoshi doggedly trying to raise the pod, again and again, nullified the very idea that she cared nothing for...Commander Trip Tucker.

She swept the back of her left hand up against her curved mouth, wondering what had triggered the seductive surge of strong emotion then, and now. Something more than a bumptious friendship of sorts was at work here. As though in a sudden hypnotic trance, that same shaky hand sought to touch his mouth, content in its sweet repose.

When her hand made contact with the side of his mouth, the ironic softness of his skin exacted that her hand linger where it was for several more moments than she dared for it to. Had his eyes just fluttered, T'Pol thought a desperate minute, struggling with whether to opt for sitting tight, or flight.

Tucker stirred, T'Pol chose to stay. She was a wiz with coming up with just the right excuse to make, whenever the tight rein on her emotions slackened a bit.
It sounded as though he were mumbling something. Her bold hand slithered up past his forehead and tangled in the overhanging shock of blondish hair suspended over his brow.

"Ru-Ruby, darlin' is that you?" the Commander twanged, stirring only a tad before T'Pol withdrew her hand as though a rattlesnake had gotten its bite in. "Hey now, don't be shy, apple-dumplin'. Come give your daddy some suga'."
"Some female from his past," T'Pol breathed beneath her breath, the unfamiliar, undignified stirrings of jealousy the cause of her sounding peeved. She didn't budge, however, curious over what he would say next.

"Ma-Malcolm might've dazzled ya, honey, with his fancy ten dollar words, but who knew exactly what you liked?" the sleep-talker rambled. "Who had it goin' on, and on, and on? *Me* that's who, pumpkin-pie. Bet you're still pinin', but I ain't around to satisfy those big needs of yours. Won't be around for a long, long time." He was silent for several expectant moments, until, "I miss ya, girl. Gets lonely way up here in deep, deep space, so far from home... Where the hell are ya now, when I need ya?"

T'Pol's arrowed look withered, as she continued to look upon his face which had knotted in frustration and despair. Pity wound around the core of her awakening feelings of disturbance for this problematic man, and this time, her hand found its way to his damp cheek. Its thumb soothed, gently relieving his jaw of its tension. The Commander let out a windy sigh, and spoke nothing. The revelatory episode had come and gone. He was snoring lightly by the time T'Pol's delicate stroking ended.

The Vulcan in her was shouting her name, defending its cause, pleading with her for her to come to her stoic senses; this human was just that, and all too for her to be behaving like this. But the awakening side of her with all the cockiness of young turks told the Vulcan in her to 'give it a rest.' These feelings were new, and they excited her. Was excitement always to be shunned like a plague? For the first time in a very long while, she felt alive, and she reveled in the sheer exhilarating sensation of it.

She wanted more, but she excelled at waiting.

It was time she was going, although the notion of sitting with Tucker throughout most of the night wasn't such a wild idea, after all. But, no. A shading of reason summoned her allegiance to her Vulcan mien once more. Tomorrow was another day, a busy one it would probably be at that, since Archer wanted her exhaustive report on her latest discovery concerning the black hole anomaly.
"Sleep well, Commander," she drifted down at her enigma who had turned over onto his side, opting for the fetal position. T'Pol bent lower, and after he'd finished settling into a more comfortable position, she allowed her glistening lips to place a chaste kiss upon the crescent of his translucent-pink right ear. She was tingling all over, and the power that had, making her feel so good, was heady in and of itself.

Hovering above his ear longer, she whispered, "Ruby is not here...but I am. You are the most illogical of your species I've ever known, but..." Her brightest smile won out. "I want to know you better, if your illogicalness manages to keep out of my way long enough in order for me to."

Tucker chuckled in the clutches of the nonsensical dream his murky subconscious had conjured up for him, as T'Pol tiptoed away, but not before she thought she overheard Reed going on about somebody having the outlandish name of 'Stinky.' Was he referring to a certain member of the crew, she mulled.
How could that be narrowed down to just one, single crew member, when there was a vast array to select from? If it weren't for the powerful fetor suppressor she relied on, living aboard this ship would be an easy ruled-out. She was getting better though. Last week she'd gone a whole half day without the neutralizing inhibitor, just to see if she had the fortitude, and it hadn't been *that* bad. She'd only started gagging, forced to retreat to the privacy of her quarters, in the final half hour. A vast improvement over those first trialsome days out.

She about-faced, and paused another moment before leaving Sickbay to take in the men who had nearly lost their lives to the unforgivingness of callous, lifeless space. It pleased her that they hadn't been vanquished, pleased her that Enterprise had gotten to them before Death had.

She wished them both a 'good night,' then hurried off, unbeknown to herself that Dr. Phlox, just out of her eyes' reach, sequestered behind one of the soundproofing partitions, had witnessed the surprising interlude between the Chief of Engineering and herself. His keen hearing had caught her every softly-spoken word.

As he neared both biobeds to first inspect his patients, and then their vitals, his eyes grazed Tucker's dormant form with a mischievous twinkle glowing within them.

"Highly uncharacteristic, highly, indeed," the physician pronounced softly. Addressing Tucker, Phlox said, "She's going to have her hands full with you, I suspect." He recalled a partial snippet of the advice T'Pol had given him not so long ago, when a certain human female's interest had seemingly knocked upon his door, and he repeated it to the long, muted shadows lurking amid the life-sustaining hum in the medical room, "With humans, it's best to tread wisely...which translates into making every attempt to counteract their emotion-colored distortion of reality with obdurate logic." Phlox gave another wry smile, considering T'Pol's lapse with her own protocol. "You lead the way, Lady Vulcan...it should prove quite eye-opening, I suspect. It appears, however, that one of these illogical humans, as you term them, has caught more than just your eye."

End

Continued in the Contest Entry, "Second Visitation

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One person has made comments

I did enjoy this. The idea of T'Pol being drawn to Trip while he recovers in sickbay and not being able to ignore him or resist watching him sleep is such a lovely image and I was happy when she lightly kissed him before leaving. There has *got* to be a sequel. I want to see how she acts around him when he wakes up. Thanks for a lovely little introspective piece. Ali D :~)