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(1/1) R T/Tu Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ELNK-AV: 0 Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 10 Jun 2004 20:57:34 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) Title : Does This Mean We're Goin' Steady? Author: Sue E-Mail: susieqla@yahoo.com Website: None. Series: ENTERPRISE Pairing: T/Tu Category: Romance/Het. Rating: R Summary: Aftermath of the first session of neuro-pressure. Does This Mean We're Goin' Steady? It wasn't the usual dream, the bad one about Lizzie, mercifully, no. It was the -other- one, the one about T'Pol. The sizzler, the torturer wherein the Vulcan babe was the unbelievably sultry sexpot, physically satisfying him in every way imaginable, and several ways even his racy brain would have never conceived. T'Pol was the mother of all dream girls... The intensity and vividness of the acts they performed were mezmerizing. His gutteral moans and groans were the real McCoy. The passion and euphoria were beyond intense; T'Pol was eating him alive, and before swallowing him whole, Trip gasped until he woke himself up, clutching what he held in his sweaty left hand tenaciously. He struggled to get a fix on just where he was. When it came to him that he was in -her- quarters, in her -bed-,then in a flash he realized, to his consummate horror, that what he grasped was the sublime breast of the star of his explicit dream! Had it been a dream, or the real thing? And if so, had the real thing inspired, added more fuel to the fire, for the dream? Trip reared back from T'Pol's body in consternation, but something restricted him, a hand, not his--hers! It was wrapped around!! He nearly had a stroke. Neuro-pressure my natural Southern-ass, foreplay is foreplay, he thought sardonically. She -was- makin' sexual advances after all, he reflected in glistening hindsight. And she'd advanced all right! 'If she don't beat all--workin' her touchy, feely routine to get me good an' stoked, and right where she wanted me.' He calmed down, carefully working T'Pol's tapered fingers away from his most private part. He thought about the first time he'd ever touched her, in Decon, over three years ago, nearly, in a couple of months. There had certainly been nothing sexual, either implied or inferred, from that ticklish tactile experience. They'd been 'gellin'' to kill microbic pollution that could've killed them, spread throughout the crew and do the same to them, if left to breed. Thinking about her in any other way, other than professionally, would have been a violation, a betrayal of the order of the day which was professionalism. Now, though, he wasn't so sure. As he had once told Archer, "She grow's on ya." She surely had on him. Sometimes when he looked at her, he'd feel his heart buck, as though it knew better than he what it wanted. He had to smile then, in the muted darkness, examining the secret of what he felt for her, liking what he was discovering. 'No reason for ya to cook up some bogus treatment to help me relax, darlin', he conceded. 'All ya had to do was tell me how much you wanted me. Good gravy--you really know how to take the edge off... I'm still glowin' from one sweet memory.' She should've been more up front about what she wanted, he kept going over, but then again she -is- Vulcan. What should I expect? Did she think I'd turn her down, despite the way I came off in the beginnin'? Not a chance. She's certainly had my attention for quite a while now. Bein' warm for her form isn't somethin' that's happened overnight... He brought the hand that had commanded such intimate possession of him up to his mouth, and kissed its knuckles. He toyed with the idea of cupping her breast again, but unlike a moment ago, this time the action would be initiated by conscious thought, not fumbling in slumber. His holding off on following through forfeited him a second opportunity. His hand dipped close, but T'Pol opening her eyes stayed his hand. The stillness, the cast of her eyes, struck him as being eerie. Sounding nervous, he said, "H-hi..." "What time is it?" she finally said, still in close proximity to his body lending her, unbeknown to him, a wealth of succor. "Still early." The sound of his being apologetic laced his tone. "Sorry I woke ya." Her voice flat, she said, "You didn't." "I didn't?" Trip gulped, his throat having gone very dry. "How long have ya been awake?" "For a while." She sounded neither smug nor accusatory. "Oh...o...kay." What could he say? She knew about his hand, but, that meant she also knew where hers had been and what he'd done with it. "T'Pol..." He started to raise himself up from the regulation-sized mattress, wishing he knew what he could possibly say without sounding lost. "It's all right I call ya T'Pol? I mean since...well, ya know." You're pathetic, Tucker, his mind assailed. "You have called me by my given name for some time now. What reason would you have to desist?" She sat up then too, and settled into the position used for meditation. Her eyes had never been so fixed on him. "Thanks for lettin' me stay here...with ya. . .like this, I mean like we did." Ya know what, he badgered himself, leave now and choose to leave what happened between you two alone--very alone, like it never did. His stubborn tendencies wouldn't allow that, though. "T'Pol. . .did we. . .did?" "Complete this first session of neuro-pressure successfully?" auspiciously, she supplied. "Yes." Trip wormed his tongue into the hollow of his cheek. "If that's what you're callin' it." She lifted an eyebrow, intrigued. "Neuro-pressure was quite effective for your first time." "-Our- first time," he reminded her, his face looking all set to burst from expectancy. He felt braver then, judging that tiptoeing around was a mistake. "Was I all right? You can tell me, I won't get offended. You were incredible--wonderful--and what I'm tryin' to say in not the surest of ways is, you're amazin'. Purely amazin'." He buttoned his lips, pressing them shut, lest his babbling annoyed her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. "I am proficient with the technique," she told him matter-of- factly. His chuckling was sparkly, she had the darndest way of putting things, her lack of modesty was equally endearing in this arena. If they'd done the deed, and she chose to treat it casually, he'd go along. "I'll say ya are," Trip rooted with a flashy wink of an eye, inching himself off the mattress. He spied his shirt where he'd left it, then turned back to T'Pol. The glinting in his eyes caused hers to open wider. "You sure showed me." "I'm glad to have been of assistance." "No, -thank you-." Appearing to be on tenterhooks, he asked, vigilant for any sign of reluctance on her part, "When's our next session?" "Come to my quarters again this evening." 'Yippee,' Trip silently cheered. He favored her with the biggest grin, a healthy showing of beautiful teeth was involved, before going for his shirt. As he stuck his head through its hole, he said, "I was hopin' ya'd say that. I'll be here. Wild horses couldn't keep me away. That's a promise, straight up!" She'd never seen him move his eyebrows up and down so much. She couldn't stop the feeling that he might have some ulterior motive behind all his enthusiasm. "Wild horses? Aboard ENTERPRISE?" she echoed, incredulously, her tonal delivery was what the word preposterous meant. "I fail to see how--" "Just an expression, one involvin' one of my favorite animals. Never ridden one, but they're fantastic creatures, poetry in motion, like racehorses, for instance." "Wild horses," she repeated, mentally filing the curious reference away, as she followed behind him to the door. All things considered, this first session had gone well, better than she'd led herself to believe, considering the commander's penchant for resisting things he viewed unfamiliar. With time, and patience enough, he might become advanced. If that were to happen, he'd gain the greatest benefit from the venerated practice. "Thanks again, T'Pol. I look forward to tonight, then." He hoped she did too. Their helping each other out like this might open the way for his getting to know her better, at last. Something he'd had no idea how to go about, up until this opportunity falling into his lap, almost literally. "Sure it's all right for me to come back tonight? I wouldn't wanna... impose." "It isn't an imposition, Commander." "Think ya could manage callin' me 'Trip?' After all, we did...well, you know..." The steely look of her eyes told him loud and clear not to push her about using his nickname, nor whatever else he was being so vague about. The neuro-pressure might take some getting used to, he mulled. 'Rollin' in the hay,' so to speak, with the Vulcan siren was like fallin' off a log. If she preferred it all fell under the heading of 'neuro-pressure,' he'd make allowances, as long as T'Pol was happy, and he got some, got a lot, actually. She'd only whetted his appetite. Could he make her happy? Well, as happy as she could be, for a Vulcan. He'd have to wait and see. In time, maybe the so-called 'therapy' could be eliminated entirely, paving the way for total concentration solely on the main event. Knowing T'Pol was at his heels, Trip licked his lips, already thinking about their upcoming 'main event' for tonight. The door opened, but he held off leaving, not before he acted on his impulse. The reality of this one-on-one happening between them was still too good to be true. He wheeled around suddenly, catching T'Pol completely off guard. Before she realized what was happening, Trip's hand was at her back, his index and middle fingers of his left hand pressing into the complement of fifth vertebra close to her spine. He ushered her body nearer to his; she didn't understand what he was doing, but she offered no resistance attempting to deflect him. Again, her curiosity getting the better of her. Applying exactly the same pressure to her pressure point, the way she'd shown him, Trip coaxed T'Pol's forehead to his lips in the process, and they brushed it before he kissed her brow; he made the contact brief, his way of thanking her again without overdoing it. Involuntarily, her sigh sounded the way it had last night. When she opened her eyes, she heard him say, "Guess that's a good spot for ya, huh?" T'Pol didn't know how to respond, verbally, that is. As though guided by an ancient instinct, she raised her fingers to his face, placed their pads over several strategic points, and for an instant, he relived the neuro-pressure session, a second time. He felt fantastic all over again. Smiling down on her, he pecked a very soft spot on her cheek this time. Sounding like a schoolboy, he asked, "Does this mean we're goin' steady?" "Steady?" "I'll explain tonight..." His nerve failed him for saying anything more, anything that would make even less sense. He left, walking off somewhat slued of foot, or "walkin' on a slant," as Trip would say. Hanging at the door, watching him make his wobbly way back to his quarters, T'Pol languished in thoughts she would have considered wholly un-balanced, given less unsettling circumstances. It was then the reactive young Vulcan dared to smile, looking forward to being with him later on. She'd pretend to be miffed with Phlox, for appearance's sake, when in her heart of hearts, she was profoundly grateful. The Denobulan doctor's medicinal interference had produced the desired results yet again! End -- Forwarded to ASCL by: Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ ASCL is a stories-only list, no discussion. Comments and feedback should be directed to alt.startrek.creative or directly to the author. Yahoo! Groups Links <*> To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ <*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com <*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ From ???@??? Sun Jun 13 00:00:46 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n30.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.87]) by sparrow (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1bzm987Mq3NZFjV1 for ; Sat, 12 Jun 2004 20:59:02 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13707-1087099136-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.com