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Interlude- Ch. 5
Interlude and Fugue
Summary: The Final Battle
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.
Chapter 5 (Conclusion)
The US Hockey team’s defeat over the USSR in 1980, Billie Jean King over Booby Riggs, the Red Sox comeback against the Yankees, IBM’s Big Blue victory over Kasparov, these vaunted upsets paled in comparison Trip losing to T’Pol. The needling and the jibes persisted for weeks, infuriating him further. Only a revenge just as humiliating would do and Trip spent the following weeks developing such retribution. Finally, the opportunity presented itself. He and T’Pol were returning from an exploration for dilithium crystals from a less than hospitable environment. Upon their return they were both relegated to the decon chamber at the behest of Doctor Phlox. This would be where Trip would make his final stand.
“All right Commanders, it should take no more than seven or eight minutes to ensure that both of you are free of any contagions.” Phlox stated through the viewing window. “Once I return you’ll be free to leave. And please don’t forget to use the decontamination gel.” He finished in parting
“Do you believe that these crystals will be compatible for use?” T’Pol inquired to Trip, slowly peeling out of her uniform.
“Well, the lattice structure isn’t as nice I’d like, but beggars can’t be choosers.” Trip replied, tugging down the zipper of his jumpsuit. “I wish we had more time though. I’m sure if we had drilled a little deeper, we woulda found the good stuff.”
There was a time where T’Pol would have needed further clarification of Commander Tucker’s colloquialisms, but she had become fairly adept at inferring their meaning. “There is no evidence to support that assumption.” She countered.
“Yes there is. The planet had a natural gravitation of almost 2G’s, plus we only drilled through one percent of the overall depth of the strata.” Trip replied.
T’Pol turned towards him, her hands covered in gel. “There a significant number of factors associated with the formation of dilithium crystals.”
Trip turned away from her, affording her the opportunity to cover his back first. “I’m not making any assumptions,” He continued, “the evidence is in the core samples themselves. There structure is far better at the bottom verses the top.”
“The difference you are referring to is mere micrometers.” She answered, smothering the gel across his ribs; her strokes as meticulous as her words.
Trip tried to remain focused on the argument but couldn’t help the indulgence his body was taking in T’Pol’s ministrations. “You know, just because you’re the rock expert doesn’t mean my points aren’t valid.” He managed to string together, silently chiding himself for his lack of concentration.
“I am not dismissing your assertions.” She defended, her hands wandering up Trip’s neck. He could feel the onset of goosebumps and the shiver that would surely follow if he allowed her to continue.
“Okay, your turn.” He said, turning hastily. He forced a stern look upon his face, as she would expect some external sign of annoyance from their present conversation, not one of indulgence. After a brief exchange of glares between the two, T’Pol finally complied.
Trip applied a generous amount of gel to his hands, and slowly began working his hands across T’Pol’s back. “Well, I’m sure Starfleet would be more than happy to establish a mining station on that quaint little rock since the crystals obviously aren’t up to Vulcan standards.”
“What would be the benefit of mining inferior crystals?” T’Pol replied, attempting to maintain the neutrality in her voice. A task made difficult with Commander Tucker’s hands freely roaming her person.
“What’s to say they can’t be refined? We’re talking about one of the rarest and most valuable substances in the universe. We gotta make every bit count.” Trip said, as his hands slowly began to ascend towards her head. Trip was confident though she would attempt to forestall his efforts.
T’Pol unwittingly played right into his trap as she attempted to block the caress of her ears, only to discover his hands were suddenly no where near her head. Instead they were down at her side, dancing across her ribs at an impossible speed. That speed, combined with gel’s natural coolness, produced a sensation T’Pol had not experienced in nearly sixty years. A laugh.
It was more of a giggle in Trip’s estimation, but more than enough for him to work with, as he away from her slowly. He then knelt down to retrieve a PADD he’d hidden under the bench to record the momentous occasion. It even included the brief smile that graced T’Pol’s lips before she concealed it with her hand.
The look she gave him though as he rose to his feet was decidedly less jovial. “What did you do to me?” T’Pol scowled through her teeth.
“Nothing, I just wanted to know if Vulcans were ticklish.” Trip replied playing her laugh again for his amusement. “Apparently they are.”
T’Pol, found absolutely nothing humorous about it. “Give me the PADD.”
“I order you to hand the PADD over to me or I’ll…”
“Or you’ll what? Wrestle me for it?” Trip replied mockingly, repeating the soundtrack over for good measure.
T’Pol realized a forceful extraction, be it verbal or physical, would be ill advised. Thus she decided to implement a far more subtle tact. “I grow tired of these games Commander.” She said, with a noticeable change in her demeanor.
“What game would that be T’Pol?” Trip replied, cautiously holding his ground.
“This test of mettle between you and I.” She answered, stretching her arms above her head, such that her tank top revealed the bow of her bosom.
It was a sight for Trip to behold, one which caused him to stumble backwards before landing the bench. But her strategy was readily apparent, snapping his eyes shut in response. He was made of far sterner stuff. “Come on T’Pol, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” He challenged.
His attempt to assuage her temptation woefully insufficient in T’Pol’s estimation, as she still had three senses with which to tantalize his mind. “Charles,” she teased melodiously, enunciating his name as if it were champagne, “you have already expressed an affinity for my physique. Do you not wish to indulge your curiosity?”
He had never heard a voice sound so breathy, so sensual before. It was hard to believe that it emanated from the cool and calculating Vulcan. But Trip refused to give into her attempts of seduction. “It’s not going to work T’Pol.” He said, reaffirming his position.
T’Pol simply quirked an eyebrow in response, as her eyes trailed down the Chief Engineer’s standard blue boxers. “Your body betrays you Charles.”
“That’s Okay Sub-Commander, just as long as my mind doesn’t.” He countered, his hands firmly clutched around the PADD. Unfortunately, the coy conversation had resulted in Trip losing track of two very important things; how much time was left until they could exit the chamber and where his would-be temptress had wondered off to.
It was in that instance, Trip found himself hit in the face by a delicate piece of fabric. It could have only come from her. “T’Pol, what did you just hit me in the face with?”
“You are a human of above average intelligence, surely you can determine what that is.” She cooed in response.
Trip attempted to pinpoint the location of her voice, but T’Pol’s innuendo-laced comment had the desired effect; his mind became consumed with identifying the cool piece of fabric that adorned his crown. It smelled of verdigris and herbal tea. A quick mental inventory of the apparel in the room and his mind came to the only logical conclusion; that he was now locked in a room with a topless Vulcan.
Trip’s concentration was beginning to fracture. This must have been what Odysseus felt he summarized, as his own personal siren was silently stalking around the Decontamination Chamber. What Trip needed to do was to focus, but every time he squeezed his eyes, all he could imagine was T’Pol’s nude form. And every time he attempted to pinpoint her footfalls, all he could hear was her sultry voice ringing in his ears. He estimated that there were only sixty seconds remaining until they could exit the chamber. But unbeknownst to the Commander was just how long that minute would be.
She had been studying him the entire time, carefully tiptoeing towards him. He was a man of two minds, struggling to maintain his resolve. T’Pol was in awe of his strength. Her nostrils were filled by the scent of his lust, yet he took no action. But his stubbornness only caused her to redouble her efforts.
Trip removed the bit of nothingness from his face, contemplating whether or not he should even hazard a peak. But that was when he felt the touch of two fingers on his wrist. Slowly the pair of digits began walking up his arm, setting his skin ablaze in their wake. He tried to slide away from her caress but his body refused to comply. His hesitation was rewarded by what must have surely been her thigh sliding against his leg; what was unmistakably her bare breasts sliding against his chest and what could only be her arm wrapping around his neck. In that moment, Commander Tucker, the most respected and foremost engineer in all of Starfleet, knew he was lost.
“Charles,” she whispered seductively, her words tickling the tiny hairs that rimmed his ear “open your eyes.”
It was an easily fulfilled request as whatever resistance was left in Trip evaporated into compliance. He turned his head in the direction of her voice, opening his eyes so that he could gaze upon the liquid brown irises of his seductress; her eyes being the last thing he would see. With a single simple squeeze of her fingers, T’Pol rendered him unconscious.
She pried his fingers off the PADD with ease, as Trip lay prone across the bench. With a few simple keystrokes she deleted the offending file, ensuring her emotionless reputation once more.
T’Pol retrieved her top from the deck, presenting some semblance of decorum right as Phlox returned. “Well it appears the both of you are in perfect health.” He stated before glancing over at Trip’s slumbering form. “Oh my, is Commander Tucker OK?”
“Yes doctor, he simply elected to ‘take a nap’.” T’Pol remarked, heading for the exit.
While a reasonable explanation, the decontamination chamber was hardly the appropriate venue in Phlox’s opinion. “I was under the impression that this wasn’t an overly taxing mission.” He rejoined, moving to wake the unconscious Engineer.
“I believe it best to let him sleep doctor.” T’Pol interjected. “Commander Tucker obviously underestimated just how strenuous this task would be.” She elaborated, glancing down at him from the threshold. “He is after all, only human.”
Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!
A whole mess of folks have made comments
Neat story idea. Really fun...
vandiver! What a treat to have this story updated! I have been waiting for ages. So, will the Trip and T'Pol contest continue? I didn't see a TBC, but I hope so.
Thanks, that was a lot of fun, and very funny. Poor Trip has met his match.
Great job! I loved reading their oneupsmanship and would love to see even more.
That was absolutely hysterical!! Nothing better than a good laugh. Thank you.
Love the foreplay. Now write the main event. We're all waiting... : )
Just read Kryptonite... guess you already wrote the main event. Good job. Most amusing AND delicious.
Never read this story. Glad it was updated and a link added to the begininng. I agree with everyone else. This was foreplay. Hope you add a sequel for the main event, too.
Thanks for the story update. It's a great humorous story.
Please update this, really needs a sequal.
This was fun! I really enjoyed it. :) I think a sequel would be equally as fun. I like this friendship that T'Pol has made with the ladies of the ship, and I love the T/T oneupmanship. :)
Reread the story again and state again that a sequel of sorts is needed. After reading a line like this:"Being the object of physical desire was not an unusual experience for T’Pol. But where most seemed to only admire her physical attributes, Commander Tucker’s survey of her was more analytical. The look in his eyes was a familiar one, akin to his scan of a diagram, as though he were trying to solve a complex equation. Did he consider her a problem and their continual bickering her preferred solution?", it has to follwed up. I personally wanna see how Trip responds to the last challenge, or is it as Distracted said, Kryptonite was it?
Okay you had me getting odd looks from my family as I sat here reading your story and giggling my head off. Very funny story. Would love to see a sequel.
*snort* okay there will be more parts right?
Hee hee hee! He shouldv'e known he was a goner the minute Decon entered the equation. Nice one on T'Pol's part, I laughed myself stupid! Well done, well done! :)
Knowing Trip.... I am sure he got the last laugh.... by sending an email of T'Pol's laugh to every other computer consol on the ship BEFORE T'Pol retracted the PADD from his grasp. It never ends.
OH MY GOD THAT IS TO FUNNY HAHAHAHAHA!
there is going to be a sequel?
Great stuff, you just HAVE TO write more PLEASE!!! - ..............goes off to read Kryptonite............