Interface
T'Pol blinked several times before coming to a realization. The Commander, true
to his unpredictable self, had just neatly upset the delicate balance she had
categorized the more enigmatic characteristics of his behavior under.
What possible reason could he have had to have expressed himself in such an inappropriate manner? It was inappropriate, wasn't it? She had often wondered what the feel of his lips pressing against hers would be like. What he had done had left her no time to react.
Her face contorted into a deeply-set frown. His rashness left her more confused than ever. She chastized herself. His effect on her was still disrupting the basis for rational thought.
Logic! What did logic have to do with it? She was dealing with the Commander who was the definitive antithesis to the meaning of the word. So why did she feel more drawn to him than ever?
"T'Pol?" Tucker's tweezer of a smile was hid behind the palm of his hand. Typical T'Pol look, he mused. He didn't understand why she wore it. "Trust me, you're gonna live." Her stony-looking eyes were his reward for his unsolicited impudence. "C'mon, admit it. You wanted it just as much as I did."
She looked as though she was smelling something that was awful which did nothing to bolster his ego. He stepped in closer to her again, but she backed away like a startled kitty cat.
Well, what had he expected? Nobody had asked him to haul off, take her into his needy arms and kiss her. She had allowed it though, he smugly noted. Right there and then he had satisfied an urge he had tamped down longer than had felt comfortable keeping on the back burner. There were provoking circumstances.
With her eyeing him in this backhanded way, he weighed the wisdom of his impulsive action. Restraint just felt wrong in the light of recent events...
He used as a for instance the rescue she had headed that had saved Jon and him from the inferno of a wasteland they had almost lost their lives on.
What had been her reason for rubbing his cheek in what had felt like affection of a sort aboard the shuttlepod once he had drunk his fill of water? He hadn't hallucinated the gesture, nor her blandishing words that she had spoken in low, concern-filled tones.
Her eyes had bored into his until he had been unable to force them to stay open any longer. Once he had closed them, he had felt T'Pol's hand lightly rest upon his lids. A glorious feeling of complete and utter tranquility had engulfed him. What a delicious feeling that had been. To this day, he still wasn't sure if she had been responsible for it in a uniquely mysterious Vulcan kind of way. He was unsure how to ask her if it had been she using her 'mojo.'
And what was the day before last about? She had blamed the turbolift's being overcrowded. Her body had been plastered to his. Gingerly then, he had felt her hand squeeze his right butt cheek. And if that hadn't been enough, a minute later, the 'explorer' had done the same thing to his left cheek. That was 'mojo' he could understand.
She wanted him. It sure seemed that way. Lately, he was having some very tender feelings where she was concerned. Was he falling for her, but having a hard time admitting it?
If he was falling, there was great cause. T'Pol was all right. No, she was more than all right. Beneath her no nonsense exterior lay one very appealing woman. Her body had some very enticing things going for it from his virile perspective.
But there was more to her than raw sex appeal...so much more. She was someone he found himself admiring more and more. Maybe she had begun to have feelings for him...just maybe. Being Vulcan, she probably wasn't handling these feelings very well.
Her not so subtle signals were driving him bananas. Yep...the more he thought about all the little cues she was communicating, the more he thought she was waiting for him to make the preliminary moves.
So he had, so what was the big, fat problem here? Hadn't he done what she wanted? That prickly look still etched on her face had him worried.
"Damn," Trip murmured in the pit of his throat. Flustered, he rehearsed what he should say first silently to himself. "If you're waitin' to hear me apologize, you're in for a long wait. I'm not sorry. Doin' what I did's been a long time in comin'. I have feelin's for you, girl. There's no point denyin' them to myself, and most of all hidin' 'em from you." Sighing gustily he said, "I'm tired of doin' that."
[You're hardly the closed book, Charles Tucker], T'Pol mused to herself.
Hoshi Sato, who was waiting for her in the mess hall, was probably wondering what was taking her so long getting there. T'Pol wasn't above manhandling the Commander out of her quarters. As she stood there regarding him, she thought that if she hadn't wanted to deal with him in the first place, why had she allowed him admittance? Now there was a question worth some lengthy analysis.
He'd just confessed how tired he was of hiding his feelings from her. Was she willing to be as honest? Unflappably, she announced, "If there is nothing further, Commander..."
If the 'instigator' who glared at her now only knew how she really felt about him. It was startling to admit to herselt that she too had such feelings. She had tried keeping them at bay, but since he was forcing the issue now, she vacillated.
"Sure there's somethin' further!" Tucker insisted. "There's this--"
"Wait," T'Pol advised, looking wary. She was anchored within the iron-wrought grip of his muscular arms once more. She buttressed her hands against his heaving chest. She was stronger, no contest, but he was no slouch in the strength deparment either. Inexplicably, she did not want to extract herself from his bold tenacity. "Wait," she repeated, sounding more conciliatory this time.
"Don'tcha think we've waited way too long already, darlin'? It's gotten to the point where every time I see you, I have this overwhelming urge to hold you like this and never let go."
"Comm--"
"Trip..."
T'Pol shook her head. She had no intentions of calling him that ridiculous nickname. "Mr. Tucker."
"Well, leastwise that's better than cold, impersonal Commander." He squeezed her tighter. He heard her slight gasp, and warmed. Her lithe frame wedged so firmly in his embrace made his mind fuzz mind fuzzed with intimate possibilities. The one thing that bothered him was his needing to know what she was feeling. What was going through her mind?
"You desire me..."
Trip choked down a gasp. "What gave it away?" She looked at him as though looking clear through him. Self-consciously, he glanced down at the sizeable bulge south of his equator. T'Pol had the presence of mind to ignore its poke against her. "You'd win that bet." When he brushed his nose alongside hers, he felt gratified. She had sighed. His ardor fanned, he trailed light kisses along her pliant left temple. "Only if you want me. I won't do one-sided. This ain't high school. Too grown for that."
[But not too grown to be the young male human you will behave if I reject the parameters of your illogical mating ritual], echoed within her mind. [Illogical, but interesting...]
He had a nice face she considered, running her eyes over every inch of it. She rubbed his left cheek the way she had aboard the shuttledpod. The Commander ambushed her fingers with frisky kisses. Suddenly then, unable to prevent them, poppy-sounding hiccups erupted from him.
"Ex-excuse me," he said in-between a moment of holding his breath. The hiccups did not go away. "So-sorry." When he held his breath this time, he ballooned his cheeks. He kept his eyes steadily trained on an evaluating T'Pol.
"Mr. Tucker?"
He nodded several times rapidly with expressive eye movements. His hiccupping stepped up.
"Are you all right?"
He released a hand from around her waist to stick two fingers up, wanting her to give him a moment or two.
"Yeah--I'm fine." He exhaled, not rushing it. Sounding a little winded he said, "Just excited." He weighed whether or not he should tell her it was the effect she had on him. He judged that if he did, it might sound contrived; just the least bit phony. He knew his feelings for her were honest through and through. Getting her to trust him was where he had his work cut out for himself. Finally the hiccups ended. He he veered his face closer to T'Pol's.
Before he got the chance to kiss her cheek, T'Pol said without a hint of presumption, "The Captain feels as you do."
The Commander's eyes shot open, and he whipped his face away from the quietly- assessing Sub-Commander's. "How's that?"
"He desires me," she said as candidly as if she were reading off declination tangents to Mayweather prior to entering a Minsharan atmosphere.
"Get out--" Trip made it sound scathing. "You're kiddin', right?"
"These are MY quarters, Commander."
Tucker shook his head, looking wiseacre-best, and resumed. "What do you mean, 'desires you?'"
"In the manner you do." T'Pol certainly had a way of milking silence for all it was worth. "He wishes for us to mate."
Regrouping, Trip tried hard not to lose his cool. He was seeing red; a nice bright fire engine red. "That so... Tell me somethin'. You squeeze his ass in a packed turbolift yet?"
His sizzling sarcasm was lost upon her. The set of her jaw remained firm. "What reason would I have to do so?"
He jutted his jaw out and shifted it to the right. Tentatively, he broached, "What reason did you have for squeezin' mine?"
"When did--"
"C'mon, don't play that with me. You know damn well what you did to me in that cramped t'lift." When he detected the slight tremor that had disturbed the impassive texture of her face, he smiled broadly. "Gotcha." Pursing his lips he wryly amended, "On second thought...make that you got me." Then, sounding less jovial, he asked, "What about you? You go for him more?"
Since when had she given him the right to behave as though he owned her? Irritation wended its way through her. Despite her resolve to not let him get to her, he sure was.
"Release me, Commander." It was said simply, softly, her tone implying that this little interlude had run its course. If that was true, why were her hands planed at either of his hips and pressing down hard enough so he'd know he wasn't going anywhere?
Squirming, Trip said through a slitted mouth, "What if I can't?" That had sounded as though his voice had come from outside his body. "What if you're making it impossible for me to?" His hooded eyes posed resistence. Still, he didn't want this turning into some forced contest.
"What do you mean I'm making it impossible for you to?" T'Pol snapped a bit sharper than she had intended.
"You don't know your own strength." He ground his thighs into hers.
"You would not enjoy learning how much stronger I can be."
"Try me..."
What insight could he possibly possess behind those wayward blue eyes that were devouring her? Was he to blame for what she knew she wanted to do with him? Her logical side? Oh, yeah, right; that. Like so much weightless matter, it had been violently shoved aft.
Bright drops of perspiration beaded Trip's glistening forehead as he felt his heart begin to race. He was acting weird. He was sure that she would be using her nifty 'lights-out' pinch on him any second now.
What's gotten into me, he desperately thought.
('Who do you think?')
Trip's mouth fell open. He gaped at her, alarmed. "What?"
Faster than greased lightning, he loosened his hold on her a fraction. While griped in the throes of her 'felinesque' mystique he sensed everything between them was about to change. There was something else; something foreign laced with something so deliciously familiar in her smoldering eyes. The heat level in her quarters had risen by a gradient of two.
('Not what. Who. Don't speak with words. Speak to me the way I'm speaking with you. Come into my mind.')
T'Pol brought her questing fingers up against the side of his left temple and splayed them. Her moist lips were motionless as her words rustled within in his confused mind.
('I desire you more, Commander...')
"You? De--huh?"
('You're not trying. Let your thoughts flow and I will amplify them.')
"Flo--" Taking a hefty gulp, the Chief Engineer relaxed the way T'Pol kept inviting him to. He thought the first thing that popped into his brain...
('I'm thinkin' this has got to be the weirdest thing I've done yet on this mission. And, yeah--weirder even than gettin' myself knocked-up.') He opened his eyes to see T'Pol's large luminous ones heavily focused upon him. ('Me more, huh? So like what the hell does that mean? You sort of have a thing for Jon too, but haven't taken it to this level yet? Or maybe y'have.' Talk to me!')
If Trip hadn't known any better, he would have sworn T'Pol's eyes had just crossed. ('I do not understand the human concept of mating exclusivity. If I were having this same form of communication and physical dynamic with the Captain, why should our relationship be altered? My feelings for you...')
Her facial skin warmed as she flushed lightly greener. If the High Command were on hand to hear her emote abandonly like this, they would order home, and this time nothing would change their minds. Her mind swam as she internalized the sting of their ridicule.
('What I feel for you is completely divorced from anything related to the Captain.')
Trip glared at her and pulled her closer to his scowly face.
('Damn, how logical you make that sound. Don't forget. You've never seen me irrational, but if we got seriously involved, and you got involved with Jon too, then hell. You'd see me step way aside. I'd wear the damn badge of irrationality with pride, darlin'. Don't look at me like that!')
T'Pol made the effort to stop looking through him the way she was. She was very attracted to him, but she wondered what she was getting herself into?
Cerebrally, he forged on...
('I don't expect you to see it my way; probably can't no matter how much you gave it your best shot. What I want you to know is I wouldn't want to share you with anyone else. Not acceptable.')
His heaving a big sigh felt pleasurable against her. The shiver of a smile came and went from her lips.
('Could you, if I asked you, T'Pol? Could we have somethin', darlin'? Just the two of us?')
T'Pol lowered her hand from his head, waiting for the residual feelings he had caught her up in to settle. She severed the link, but not as quickly as she might have done if what he had said had not affected her as much as it had. "I must go."
"That's evasive," he labeled.
"I've kept Sato waiting long enough."
He felt sad, not having her voice in his head. With hesitancy, he said, "Yeah. Guess I'd better shove off too." His arms stayed where they were, however. He hugged her torso as though his arms were content to stay that way for as long as they had strength to hold her. "Sorry," he apologized, not wanting her to see how frustrated he felt.
Before wriggle-peeling herself out of his truculent embrace, T'Pol did something. Years from now, what she did would coax a smile of rememberance to her lips, and radiate warmth to her heart. She angled her mouth up against his right cheek and kissed the warm skin.
It yanked the dour expression clean off his face.
Remembering what Hoshi had told her about human men liking it when their women did surprising affectionate things, T'Pol kissed him again. She saw his smile really take off.
"T'Pol..." Tucker was blushing now, and his arms finished helping her get free. "Why in hell did you do that?"
She copied what she'd seen a female ensign do the other day in the mess when a male counterpart passing by had told a joke and the ensign had laughed and shrugged when a colleague had asked her what had been so funny. The Sub- Commander shrugged. "Wait here. I will not be with Ensign Sato long."
"But..."
"I am not in the habit of breaking my promises. Wait..." Her voice drifted back over to him. She stood at the door as it opened. "Please, Mr. Tucker." She insisted, "I promised her." In timely fashion, she said, "Unless you have a pressing concern elsewhere that needs your immediate attention."
Was she kidding? Trip's eye roll spoke volumes. [More like your immediate attention], he thought. He flicked his tongue across both sets of lips that were very dry. She waited for his reply with her hands crossed behind her back, her chin raised while she stood at ease.
He ate her up whenever she struck that pose. She always looking so cocksure of herself, so untouchable and inviolate...so all fire edible.
He angled his legs closer together, proud of what had to be that much more obvious. It made him a little self-conscious too. Why had she kissed him? "Nah, I'm good to stay." The little fantasy going on in his head at the moment meandered. His eyes sparkled in the low lighting. "Don't keep me on hold for too long, though." He plopped himself back down on her bunk and his hands gave the unyielding mattress little pumps as though testing its give out.
Before departing, she decided to give him one last pointed look. "You could always meditate. You know where the candles are."
"Oh, rest assured, darlin', that's all I'll be doin' till you get back." He looked her slowly up, then down. His eyes, rife with unadulterated lust, lifted to her face again. "You give me loads to think about."
She inclined her head thoughtfully, studying him and what was behind his blatant smile a minute longer. Then, she left.
Once the door had closed all the way, Trip leaned back on his elbows. He made himself at home in her spartan digs. Dreamily, he exhaled, then said, "Hoo-boy. Now, where was I?" No matter how long it took, he wasn't going anywhere. Tonight was the night. These were how his T'Pol-centric excursions into the sublime usually began.
"Wait, she said." He chuckled with a self-satisfying chuckle of contentment. He shut his eyes and with a happy sigh, his interrupted fantasy rolled like the film of one of the ship's old movies.
TBC
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