Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 6 Jan 2004 09:41:45 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.co.uk (shouldknowbetter) Title: Someone To Watch Over Me Series: ENT, Third in a series of 9 stories. Part: 2/3 Story 9/34 Series Author: Shouldknowbetter Rating: PG13 Codes: Tu/T, all "Enterprise" characters, later in series, Soval, Forrest, action, angst, drama Disclaimer 1: Paramount owns the characters, the Star Trek franchise and the universe. I just use them for my own private, non-profit making amusement. SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME Part Two Two sighed. "This is proceeding no better than the previous pairing." "At least they are talking." One was still hopeful but only because he couldn't think of anything else to try. "But at the most trivial level." "I believe that to be a promising sign." Three was maintaining her air of confidence. "The woman does not engage in trivia with anyone else and he touched her when he arrived." "But not since." Two had never like Three, probably because she was so much brighter than he. "If you are correct and they wish to mate, they obviously need encouragement." "Chemical compounds?" One suggested. He rather enjoyed synthesising chemicals, even though he didn't really think they worked. "I was considering a change of scenario. Their ship's database indicates that placing two specimens in a dangerous situation inevitably makes them acknowledge their desire to mate." Three sighed. "That is a literary device, not a behavioural rule. I believe it no more likely to work for these specimens than for our own people." "Then what do you suggest?" "Wait." "One?" "Oh, very well, select a scenario. But don't get them killed. We are investigating mating, not death. I'm sorry, Three, but this is getting a little tedious. What are they doing now?" "This isn't working," Tucker grumbled. "I can't see a flame." "You are not trying." "Yes, I am. I just can't see it. I've never been into candles." "Not even when entertaining women?" Tucker's eyes shot open and stared accusingly at T'Pol. "What d'you know about candlelit dinners?" "I am aware that they are a sentimental clichι." "How d'you know?" "Ensign Sato has told me." "Huh! Thought someone'd been romancing you," and he knew who to accuse. The scene flipped without warning. One moment they were sitting facing each other on the bedroom floor, the next they were on sand, hot red sand with red light overhead. Tucker literally ducked from the sudden intensity of the heat. "Shit! What happened there?" It was a rhetorical question. He clambered to his feet, staggering a little as the high gravity hit. "Any idea where we are?" T'Pol had also risen and was studying their surroundings closely. "It would appear to be Vulcan." Tucker stared around, frowning. "Earth, now Vulcan. D'you think we're really there?" "I believe not. This would appear to be the great southern desert but it lacks the … depth of sensation I would expect to experience here." "Yeah, know what you mean. Like that view out the window of the bedroom. Holographic projection?" "A logical hypothesis although there are other possibilities." "I guess we still can't find the off switch. Or even the environmental controls." Tucker was already sweating and T'Pol looked at him in some concern. Vulcan was a harsh environment for its natives and a killing one for humans. "We must find shelter." "Fine. Do we toss a coin or what?" "There." She pointed to a rock outcropping just visible to human eyes in the low light levels. "If we are fortunate, it may contain emergency supplies." "And if we're not fortunate?" "It will not." She started walking, keeping to a slow pace although Tucker was already breathing faster in the high gravity and thin air. "Why would there be supplies in the middle of a desert?" She presumed he wanted to talk to keep his mind off his discomfort. "We are not in the middle of a desert. I believe we are close to the main pilgrim route to the monastery on the plateau of Gol where the rite of Kolinahr is performed. The masters leave caches of water for the pilgrims." "They walk in?" "Of course. It demonstrates their commitment and piety." "If you say so. Is it always this hot?" "During the day, yes." She took pity on him. "This is the most inhospitable region on Vulcan." "Hence the masters?" "Indeed. Even I find it … unpleasant." "You must freeze on Enterprise." "Vulcans can tolerate a far wider range of temperatures than humans." She glanced up at the man beside her. "It surprises me that for a species that evolved in Earth's equatorial area, you are so vulnerable to heat and dehydration." "That was about half a million years ago! What were Vulcans doing then?" "Slaughtering each other." "Oh." They were barely 100m from the rocky outcropping when the desert's silence was broken by an animalistic howl. T'Pol didn't hesitate. "Run." Tucker did his best but Vulcan's gravity won out. He had fallen several metres behind T'Pol when he stumbled and pitched headlong. He had barely dragged himself to hands and knees when a large, shaggy and noxious beast barged into his side, sending him flying again. Instinct rolled him onto his back and saved his life as it also threw up his arm to ward off the rows of teeth aiming for his throat. Luck played its part too as his forearm jammed into the creature's jaws. For frantic seconds he was pinned down, unable to do anything but hold the animal off, then the downward pressure relaxed into a dead weight that was pulled off him and he was looking up into T'Pol's face. She looked as scared and shocked as he felt, quite unlike her usual calm self. They simply stared at each other for a long moment then she dragged him up, hand tight on his. "They hunt in packs. We must run." As she pulled him away, he got another sight of the creature that had attacked him; its neck had been snapped. Archer was getting irritable which was in turn upsetting Hoshi. "I'm going as fast as I can, sir! This equipment wasn't designed to operate in theta band. If Commander Tucker was here …" He swallowed his annoyance, knowing it was unjustified. "I'm sorry, Hoshi. I know you're doing your best." She sighed. "I'm worried about them too, sir." Particularly about the notion of Tucker and T'Pol alone in a bedroom together. Hoshi knew something was going on between science officer and chief engineer, she just didn't know what it was exactly and whether it was likely to lead to the Vulcan hurting Tucker if he pushed his luck with her. "OK, I think that's got it." She crawled out from under the comm. station and accepted Archer's hand to help her up. "Initiating comm. signal now." There was a short delay and then she said in some surprise, "Link established, sir. Someone's responding." "On screen." It had to be one of the most alien species Archer had yet encountered. There was only the suggestion of a mouth; the rest looked remarkably like a jellyfish, but the response came through clearly without the benefit of Hoshi's language skills. "Oh, it's you. You have contacted us." "That's right." Archer was being cautious. "You know us?" "Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. We didn't think you could talk back, however. We were just observing." "Observing?" "Yes, yes. We're exo-anthropologists. We spend our time viewing primitive specimens like you." "I see." Archer held his temper. "I seem to be missing two of my crew. Would you know anything about that?" "Ah, yes. My apologies, but the captain wanted us to finish up quickly. We had to encourage the behaviour we wanted to observe." "You kidnapped two – three! – of my crew." "Well, I suppose – yes, we did. But don't worry, you can have them back as soon as they have mated. They'll be quite safe with us." There was a noise off screen. The jellyfish swayed in that direction, said something that sounded very much like, "Oops!" and the screen went blank. Archer stared at it in consternation and after a moment Hoshi said doubtfully, "Did he say mated?" T'Pol dragged Tucker up the first rocky stretch of the knoll then halted in frustration at the sheer face before them; she had taken the wrong route, not that there had been a great deal of choice. Beside her, Tucker had collapsed to hands and knees, sobbing for breath, clearly incapable of going further. With scant hope, she turned to check if they had been followed and shivered. There were too many. Even if they had both been Vulcan they wouldn't have stood a chance and Tucker was human, hurt and already exhausted. "Charles." She hardly ever called him by his personal name although he had been urging her to do so for months, but it had the advantage of getting his immediate attention. He dragged himself up, holding onto the rock wall behind them, and swore softly at the sight of the half dozen beasts crouching below them. "Can we do anything?" "No." One of the beasts roared and started forward. T'Pol took a step in front of the injured human in an entirely futile gesture of protection and he pulled her back, holding her tightly to his side. T'Pol gave in to the inevitable and held him back just as tightly; it didn't look as if it would matter. The beast howled again, crouching to spring, and they clutched convulsively at each other. "They're responding again, captain," Hoshi informed Archer and he nodded. "On screen." "Ah, you again." The alien didn't give him a chance to speak. "I told you not to worry. We will return your crew when we have completed our studies." "Then we could have a long wait." Archer made his voice firm. "You've misread the situation. Sub-Commander T'Pol and Commander Tucker are colleagues, friends. They don't want to mate with each other." "Hmm." The creature was undulating slightly. "You know, I shared your opinion at first but one of my subordinates insisted we had to swap the males and I must say its looking promising. Would you like to see?" Without waiting for Archer to respond, it waved a tentacle and the screen split, one half continuing to show the alien, the other an image of Enterprise's first officer and chief engineer. They were back in the bedroom. For several seconds they simply remained pressed together, stunned, then T'Pol forced herself back under a semblance of control; mainly because one of the arms clamped around her waist was encased in a ripped and bloodstained sleeve and there was more blood spreading down her uniform. She freed herself from Tucker's grip and turned to face him, gently tearing away the remnant of the fabric to inspect the damage. "Ow," he muttered belatedly and sank down on the edge of the bed. "What the hell was that about?" "Perhaps it was a test." "Did we pass?" "We are still alive." "Good point." He was staring with distaste at his bleeding forearm. "Have I ever told you I don't like the sight of blood? Particularly mine." "Frequently." She fetched a wet towel from the vanity unit that finally came in useful and knelt beside him to clean the injuries where sharp teeth had scratched and torn the flesh. "Ow!" "Do not make such a fuss." She had wiped away most of the blood and assured herself that the wounds were not serious. "The teeth did not penetrate deeply." "It still hurts. Are those things poisonous?" "No." He scowled at the dark head bent over his arm. "Would you be more sympathetic if it had chewed my hand off?" She wrapped a dressing over the wounds and fastened it in place with strip of another towel. "Thanks." She started to rise, head averted, and he laid a hand on her arm, lightness gone. "And thanks for saving my life back there." He thought she shuddered. "T'Pol? You OK?" She definitely took a couple of deliberate breaths. "I thought the sehlat had killed you. If the initial leap does not break the prey's back, they rip out the throat. When I turned and saw it on top of you …" She swallowed, fighting for control, but since those seconds of terror had shattered her composure she had not had a moment to re-build the walls. "Hey," his voice was gentle, "don't underrate human survival instinct. We dodged sabre-toothed tigers for thousands of years." "It is considered unlikely that sabre-toothed tigers preyed on humans." He laughed softly. "Smart-arse. Want a hug?" "I see no logical reason why I should." "Sounds like a yes to me." He stood, drawing her with him, then waited a second, hands on her shoulders, giving her the chance to move away. When she didn't, he took a half step forwards to bring them into contact, sliding one hand down to the small of her back, the other to the nape of her neck, long fingers caressing soothingly. T'Pol knew she shouldn't but couldn't seem to stop herself, leaning into Tucker, finding a comfortable position for her head under his chin, listening to his heartbeat proving he was alive. "I made an ass of myself with Jon once." Tucker's voice was still quiet and she recognised that he was offering her an excuse for her weakness by referring to his best friend. "He fell down a crevice on Io during a training mission. He wasn't answering hails and I was sure he'd snagged his suit. Took me twenty minutes to reach him, only to find he'd done nothing worse than wind himself and smash the transmitter on his suit. I was so panicked I was hyperventilating. I ran out of oxygen on the way back and Jon had to rescue me! Official report didn't make nice reading." She had to move. It was certainly comforting to stand in Charles' arms and let him stroke her but it wasn't doing anything to restore her composure; and behind all the layers of control, the restraint, the lifelong habits of repression, she loved Charles Tucker very much. The unwanted emotion would not be banished however hard she tried and whenever he was in danger her feelings for him effortless surfaced. But she was Vulcan and Vulcans did not admit to having feelings for a member of another species beyond friendship. She stepped back, regretting the loss of contact. "Thank you, commander." Tucker snorted and took a seat on the bed again, back resting on the headboard, knees raised, focussing on solving differential equations in his head. It had been a mistake, holding T'Pol like that. If he could keep his interactions with the science officer either strictly professional or casually light-hearted he could cope. Whenever it slipped onto a more intimate note, he was forced to admit how much he cared for her. Holding that warm, voluptuous body against his, knowing that she cared enough for him to be shaken by the thought of his death, were both enough to overset his firm resolution to have the Vulcan woman purely as a friend. He could still feel her curvaceous body pressed against him, her hair brushing his skin, and he was becoming as aroused as hell. And she didn't even seem to notice, which maybe meant Archer hadn't persuaded her into bed yet. Differential equations, nice solvable differential equations. That was definitely the way to go. Archer stared at the image on his view screen and sighed, head dropping briefly. "They're friends." T'Pol was leaning on Tucker, head on his shoulder, his arms around her. There was no sound but he seemed to be talking to her, expression tender. "Very good friends." He sounded less than certain of that even to himself. "No." The alien's tone was cheerful. "We have observed friendship. It doesn't involve so much physical contact. We'll return them when we're done." The screen blanked again. Archer sank down into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. "At least we know they're OK." "If it was them," Reed offered darkly. "The image could have been faked. Vulcans don't like to be touched and Commander Tucker was … well, cuddling the sub-commander." Hoshi sent the armoury officer a pitying glance. "Haven't you been watching them, Malcolm? T'Pol might not like the rest of us touching her, but she's always let Commander Tucker get close. I think she really like him. What do you think, captain?" "I still think we've got a long wait on our hands." T'Pol took her time washing her hands free of any lingering trace of human blood, using the opportunity to start re-building the walls, to put her emotions back where they belonged. A substantial period of mediation was required, but following that recent incident she did not want to be caught anything less than alert by a scene-switch. She had to make do with sitting on the floor, away from temptation. Tucker seemed to have subsided into gloom, frowning at the opposite wall, and she began to worry. "Is your arm painful?" He seemed to come back from a long way away. "Huh? Oh, no, just sore. What did you say those things were called?" "Sehlat." "Do they always eat people?" Keep it casual, Trip. "No. When bred in captivity and hand-reared, they are considered suitable pets for the young." "You're kidding! All those teeth!" "They do not bite the hand that feeds them." "I didn't think Vulcans had pets. You don't like Portos, do you?" "The care of a pet promotes a sense of responsibility in a child. Something that should not be necessary in a star ship captain." "Did you have one?" "Yes." He gave her a half-teasing, half-thoughtful look. "Did it keep the hokeet away?" T'Pol looked away; Tucker knew far too much about her. "So my parents told me." "That's sweet." "It was logical. Vulcans do not act out of sentiment." "Not even for their kids?" "No." "Don't believe you." "You should." She watched him shift uncomfortably again. "What is wrong?" "I'm hungry," which was true if not the answer to the question. "Think they'll feed us?" "I do not know." T'Pol had barely finished speaking when a table appeared in a corner of the room. Even from where they sat they could see that it was covered with dishes. "Neat trick," Tucker muttered and raised his voice slightly. "What about a door?" Sadly that provoked no response and he grunted and slipped off the bed to inspect the content of the table, giving it a hard scrutiny. "A problem?" "Not with the food. Steak for me, mushroom risotto without cheese for you." He glanced down at her as she joined him. "Get the feeling someone's been watching us?" "It would seem so." Probably only chef, Archer and Tucker knew that she was very partial to mushroom risotto. "Shame to waste it." He took one of the chairs that had also been provided and tucked in while T'Pol followed suit more cautiously. "I'm starting to feel like I'm being experimented on." T'Pol nibbled a mushroom. "That would fit such facts as we have, although it does not explain why you were substituted for Lt Reed." "He was too boring." Tucker's eyes were mischievous. "If all you did was sit and look at each other for four hours …" "Then perhaps we should endeavour to be less interesting." "At least they don't want us dead." "Yet." Continued in Part Three -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ Yahoo! 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