Received: from [66.218.67.193] by n16.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 14 Feb 2004 05:49:11 -0000 X-Sender: stephenbratliff@earthlink.net X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 58495 invoked from network); 14 Feb 2004 05:49:11 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.216) by m11.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 14 Feb 2004 05:49:11 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO hawk.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.22) by mta1.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 14 Feb 2004 05:49:11 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-016dcwashp0442.dialsprint.net ([63.188.161.188]) by hawk.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1Arsft-00008R-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Fri, 13 Feb 2004 21:49:09 -0800 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.22 From: ASC-VSO X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Sat, 14 Feb 2004 00:49:26 -0500 Subject: [ASC] NEW ENT - Mood Swing - Part 14 - PG-13 (T/Tu) Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/html; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit ASCL is a stories-only list, no discussion. Comments and feedback should be directed to alt.startrek .creative or directly to the author. ADVERTISEMENT Click Here My Groups | ASCL Main Page Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 12 Feb 2004 14:06:07 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (14/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 14 RATING: PG-13 STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Romance SPOILERS: Harbinger ARCHIVE: Yes DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scene. NOTES: On-going series of vignettes focusing on this pair's developing relationship. Mood Swing - Part 14 "How was I supposed to know?" Trip shook his head, thrusting his hands out at his sides, going over how the cozy little scene in T'Pol's quarters eventually played out in his mind again. His being thrown for a loop was the understatement of the century. "If she thinks she's *not* jealous, then I got news for her. What would anybody ever bitten by the green-eyed monster call it, judgin' by the moves she put on me? And, yeah, maybe it was against better judgment, but...I let her. A part of me was all for holdin' off, but who am I kiddin'? I'm a big boy. She offered, I took. I wanted her every bit as much as she wanted me. I *am* sweet on her, and now she knows. Amen. I can't get over she even wantin' me in the first place. Man, she really had me fooled all this time!" Despite his jumbled hindsight, he had to smile. T'Pol couldn't have been sweeter if she'd been dipped in honey and smothered in whipped cream. The imagery made his throat go stone dry. Faintly, that familiar twinge, responsible for the misgivings he now faced, stirred again. The satisfied look was soon replaced by a terse scowl that refused to quit. "And she prides herself on bein' above anythin' and everythin' she judges a human failin'. Ha! Maybe it's true, maybe bein' around us for so long, a lot has rubbed off." Mellowing, he allowed: "I'm never gonna be the same, now am I? Wonder if she will?" The relative silence in his quarters listened to him patiently. Trip wished it wasn't quite so quiet, save for the reassuring thrum of the engines he heard no matter what part of the ship he was in. If they were ailing, he knew it in an instant, solely by their pitch. It was as though his being alone with his thoughts made him uncomfortable. "Now what?" He addressed his bunk he had not slept in, and immediately thought of hers, he in it, holding her tight, she with her head on his chest, an ear over his heart, then greedily brushing her lips over the hot spot. The passionate man that he was, delighting in heedlessly kissing her and himself into endless bliss. Sighing, he closed his eyes and knew how much he needed to be with T'Pol again. What he once considered to be too good to be true was something he could now relive, over and over in his mind's eye. T'Pol, giving herself to him completely, holding nothing back, trusting him...loving him. It had never been more incredible, but the intensity of it all had Trip wondering for all he was worth. "Is she herself?" he loudly conjectured into the mirror above the basin in his bathroom. He felt outrageously invigorated. A bracing shower, heavy on the cold water, should take his libido down several notches. "She's been through a lot lately. Despite bein' Vulcan, stress is stress. Could be her fine-tunin' is out of kilter. Way out." Shirtless, squinting at himself, he frowned, not wanting it to be that. He gave both his cheeks some light slaps with the back of his hand. "Get a grip, Tucker. Whatever the reason, she's as fine as fine can be, and you're one lucky s-o-b. Not only brains, but a body that's plumb outta several worlds, no big surprise. And where'd she learn how to 'French' like *that*? Not on Vulcan, that's for sure..." He laughed, a clipped laugh, full of what they'd shared, nothing short of glorious for him, and by all indications, T'Pol too. Her crack about Cole touching his, "behind" formed another smile on his lips. It tickled him the way she'd put it. T'Pol...so knowledgeable and wise in so many ways, yet just as naive in others, he thought. "If any good's come out of the flack over Amanda, it's T'Pol hittin' me over the head with a clue--her gorgeous self. We should talk, though. We really should. We're attracted, that's for way sure, but...where to from here? Is this serious, or, or..." He shrugged at himself, noting the rosy glow in his cheeks, and the light slaps he'd given himself did not account for it, altogether. "Maybe we just go with the flow and find out along the way. Could be fun..." He didn't need to start the ship's, and his, pre-dawn shift with a banging head, so shrugging again, he willed his bombarding thoughts to stop harasssing him. He blinked at himself several times when it struck him: "Hope I wasn't just a fling, an experiment she needed, to get me out of her system...some novelty to satisfy her curiosity. Ah, hell." Unconsciously, he had begun shaking his head as he stared blankly at his reflection, though not seeing it. The train of thought saddening him. "NO--I won't accept that!" But the more he thought along those lines, the more despair he felt. "What if she reverts? Pretends like last night never happened 'cause maybe experiencin' that much emotional overload overwhelmed her? I know I was--still am. She had to be unnerved by the force of her feelin's if I understand her even a little. Maybe she'll be unwillin' to deal with what must be out and out taboo for her? She's proud of who and what she is, but last night she lost all self-control. Hell, we both did. Guess I'll just haveta wait and see, won't I? Seems to me this's been buildin' for a good, long while. The way she poured it on...phew...like bleeder steam magna-compressed findin' an outlet. I just about stumbled out of her place on jelly legs. Mercy, she's so strong. Sweet of her to say she wouldn't hurt me...and sweeter since she didn't. Least I don't think she left bruises..." He gave himself a quick spot check, detecting no marks, before turning the faucet on. "Regardless of how she comes across the next time I see her, if she wants it, I'll never turn her down..." Momentarily, his head swam, the way it had when T'Pol touched him in that special way like never before which had put an abrupt end to any neuro-pressure he had anticipated. He had succumbed to her as naturally as his heeding the siren call of dedicated FAMUS-R scanners in need of patch-flex refitting. "Maybe I'm over-simplifyin', but she's got a thing for me, sure *she does*. Vulcan or no Vulcan, it's like she's staked her claim." He pitched himself into the driving surges of water drenching the circular shower stall. Lost in the furious wetness, he found it wasn't hard imagining his beautiful claimer, who puzzled him like never before, in there with him. It made him feel better to hear himself reiterate: "We've gotta talk. We will, at some point. Sure as hell we will! T'Pol and me...wow..." ************* In her quarters, not very distant from Trip's, T'Pol, still fast asleep, nodded with a fragile smile. It was very similar to the one she'd stunned him with following their emotive kissing each other goodnight. Following a wispy sigh, then soft mumbling in Vulcan, she turned over on her side. She hugged the small, firm pillow that had worked its way out from under her head, hard. It, like her head, was a little perspired. Her soft susurrations, pushed past lips still swollen and tenderly bruised, seeped into an unconscious exhalation as her smile deepened. "Trip..." TBC -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ 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 the Yahoo! Terms of Service. From ???@??? Sat Feb 14 00:56:37 2004 Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n38.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.106]) by killdeer (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1aRSJe1db3NZFlr0 for ; Fri, 13 Feb 2004 21:52:36 -0800 (PST) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13193-1076737756-stephenbratliff=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo. oo.com Received: from [66.218.67.201] by n14.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 18 Feb 2004 03:53:55 -0000 X-Sender: stephenbratliffasc@earthlink.net X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 63273 invoked from network); 18 Feb 2004 03:53:52 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.172) by m9.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 18 Feb 2004 03:53:52 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO snipe.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.62) by mta4.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 18 Feb 2004 03:53:54 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-039dcwashp0487.dialsprint.net ([207.9.129.233]) by snipe.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1AtImV-000161-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Tue, 17 Feb 2004 19:53:52 -0800 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.62 From: ASC-VSO X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Tue, 17 Feb 2004 22:54:05 -0500 Subject: [ASC] NEW: Ent: Mood Swing - PG-13 T/Tu (14a/?) Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 16 Feb 2004 20:10:32 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (14a/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 14a RATING: PG-13 STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Romance SPOILERS: Harbinger ARCHIVE: Yes DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scene. Mood Swing - Part 14a "Well, yes, or no? We keep goin' with the neuro-pressure?" "Lower your voice." "I'm not shoutin'. THIS IS SHOUTIN'!" All heads in the Mess turned in the direction of the couple, who drew more and more attention with each passing day. Telling whispers disappeared into thin air. Her face turning a deeper shade of green, T'Pol stilled Trip with an effortless glare. "I will *not* discuss private matters in public." "This is as good a place as any," Trip shot back petulantly. "You *are* getting emotional," she accused, barely moving her lips. "Well, what d'ya expect? How'd you like bein' thought of as a fu--" Stopping abruptly, Trip struggled to drop his voice's volume as well as his inflammatory choice of word. "Some funky lab rat." The coffee he had drunk a moment ago tasted rancid in his mouth. T'Pol felt a disquieting pressure building in her head. "I said I was sorry if I--" "Are ya sorry for last night?" He folded his arms across his chest, glowering at her with foul-tempered eyes, full force. He'd asked the clincher, knowing he would, T'Pol assessed. She weighed her feelings carefully. "I'm sorry for hurting your feelings." "Okay, that's a start, but it's not the answer I'm waitin' for." "And for doing you a terrible disservice." "A disservice?" The edge in his voice had sharpened despite his best effort to tamp his anger down. "You made me a happy man. *Real happy*. Happiest I've been in months." "I never behave as impulsively as I did last evening, and you know that, using you as I did. Practically attacking you." Involuntarily, a tremor coursed through her. "I wronged you. I apologize for having taken advantage of you in a therapeutic venue. My actions are inexcusable." Despite T'Pol demanding of herself to be forthright, her gaze eluded his again. "Don't be so hard on yourself. It's only takin' advantage if I think so. I held my own, didn't I?" Her greenish tinge deepened once again. "Don't apologize for givin' me a clue. O'kay? If ya ask me, long overdue?" "I should have asked your permission first. I had no right to involve you in something so..." "Intense," he ably supplied, winking. "I will concede that. Intense, without your knowledge. Coupled with investigative." This time her eyes fell away from his face more slowly. "No stone left unturned, but you don't hear me complainin', do ya?" Sitting as close as he was to her now, he was whispering directly into her ear, the way he had last night. With each incendiary, raggedly-spoken undertone, he'd driven her closer and closer to the edge until, finally, she'd surrendered the side of herself he'd once thought it impossible for her to gain liberation from. If the Mess had not been so full, he would have leisurely kissed her cheek, following that up with doing the same to her eyes. When he'd kissed them, after they'd consummated, T'Pol had gasped several times, thoroughly undone by his genuine selflessness and tenderness. He'd kissed her eyes after each joining. She would never have to imagine what it felt like their having been kissed so many times. If she wanted to backpedal, he'd let her, never letting on that he knew it was a tactic. They had something and there was no denying it; the something went deeper than mere physical attraction, something infinitely deeper. He knew it, and he hoped she did too, even if it was only a little bit for starters. He wanted to believe whatever they had might grow. "Just so ya know, if your results are inconclusive, I'm more than willin' to volunteer for further investigation..." He stuck his hands up and wriggled his fingers. After doing so, he plopped his left one down on her thigh, beneath the table, and gave it a firm yet playful squeeze. "No strings attached. Offer's good through the remainder of our mission." He paused and said even more softly, "And beyond if need be, but that's up to you. Hell, I'll sign on as one very willing test subject with your damn Directorate if strict protocol dictates. You're a dynamite researcher, the only researcher I want; you make exploration so excitin'. You give new meanin' to the words probin' investigation." "Do I?" "Just make that you're dynamite, period..." Appreciative eyes looked her up and down, awash with fondness. Another tremor wreaked havoc with her resolve to be aloof. How could she when being this close to him felt so good? He was too good. She rose with her cup of tea in hand, and noted the look of disappointment on his face...his beautiful face. "I will consider your offer." "An' get back to me?" he verbally nudged with roguish eyes, eyes she found herself getting lost in much too easily. She nodded, not trusting the steadiness of her voice which felt buried deep within her throat. "Where ya headin'?" She paused at the dirty plates and utensils station to place her cup, the contents of which was lukewarm, in a rack. Trip was at her elbow in just that space of time. "Wherever it is, mind if I accompany ya?" Mind? Her eyes smiled although Trip could never swear to it. She was elated, as pleased and content as poring over Surak's tome, her favorite pastime, with a steamy cup of her favorite blend of mint tea within an arm's length. "I don't mind. Although, under present circumstances, it would be best if you waited outside my quarters while I finish preparing for duty. I must report to the bridge to begin my tour, and I am unable to locate my PADD." "Don't trust yourself bein' alone with me at the moment, huh?" "Don't be inconsistent." T'Pol looked as though she was making the hughest of concessions. "It is merely a request." "I'll keep that in mind, Sub-c." It was all Trip could do not to shout out loud, having gained no small victory. "Hey, you can borrow mine." "No, thank you. I would prefer to locate my own." "Okay, but you're welcome." Turning tentative, he asked, "How 'bout dinner tonight? Just the two of us? Familiar territory, the captain's Mess. He'll be dinin' with Hoshi and Travis, in here. No pressure, just enjoyin' each other's company over good food, a touch of wine and sparklin' conversation." "I accept." It was acceptance uttered before the wiser, staid voice had had the chance to curb her enthusiasm, prompting her to decline. The war within was waged, and with minimal casualties; what she wanted to do won out. "Thank you." "Like I said before, no need to thank me. This is great. I'm glad I went ahead 'cause I already got Jon's permission; he owes those two the pleasure of his company. And I told Chef to pull out all the stops." "Indeed. Why did you assume I'd agree?" Laughing, Trip replied, "Why would you assume I wouldn't? Assume, that is." She tried not to roll her eyes at him too much, but too many things she used to pride herself on were falling by the wayside. All T'Pol could think, while this all-too human male, who couldn't stop grinning unabashedly in her face, suggested they get a move on, was: *MINE*! TBC -- 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 ???@??? Tue Feb 17 22:59:35 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n38.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.106]) by kite (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1aTiO43yL3NZFkD0 for ; Tue, 17 Feb 2004 19:55:28 -0800 (PST) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13209-1077076445-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yah oo.com Received: from [66.218.67.197] by n26.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 24 Feb 2004 04:21:15 -0000 X-Sender: stephenbratliffasc@earthlink.net X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 84004 invoked from network); 24 Feb 2004 04:21:12 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.167) by m4.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 24 Feb 2004 04:21:12 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO falcon.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.74) by mta6.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 24 Feb 2004 04:21:12 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-018dcwashp0230.dialsprint.net ([63.188.176.230]) by falcon.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1AvU4A-00032n-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Mon, 23 Feb 2004 20:21:06 -0800 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.74 From: ASC-VSO X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Mon, 23 Feb 2004 23:21:27 -0500 Subject: [ASC] ENT: Mood Swing - (15/?) T/Tu - PG-13 Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 21 Feb 2004 06:12:53 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (15/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 15 RATING: PG-13 STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Romance SPOILERS: Doctor's Orders ARCHIVE: Yes DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scene. Mood Swing - Part 15 "Hallucinatin'? Him? He told ya that?" "Yes, he did. Vividly. It's not unusual for Denobulans to do so under extreme circumstances. He explained we were with him in a manner of speaking, at critical junctures during his soloing. He was even under the impression that Xindi intruders had infiltrated. One had sought to attack Ensign Sato, according to him. And then not long after that delusion, he saw her as a hideous creature with a horribly disfigured face tumbling out of her shower. It sent, and I quote, 'chills down his spine.'" "He better not tell Hoshi about that hallucination. It's hardly flatterin'." T'Pol went on. "He confessed that he nearly shot Porthos in the corridor not far from the laundry, having mistaken the canine for a Xindi-Insectoid." "Or Jon about his nearly fryin' the imaginary Porthos." Thoughtfully, Trip replied, "Well, I'll be damned. Hallucinatin' or not, considerin' the interference and who knows what other weirdness in that part of the Expanse, ol' Phlox did a hell of a job." "From what he related, the ordeal was quite the challenge. He was adversely affected by his exposure, but to a lesser degree than we would have been, had we been exposed." Tucker eased himself more on his side firmly erasing what minimal separation had been between them. "A challenge and a half and then some. The doc practically pulled off the impossible, single-handedly. The engines aren't in the best shape at the moment, but there's no permanant damage." The chief engineer lapsed into a private revery. Faintly, the Vulcan heard his heart beats step up along with his rate of respiration. Sensing change in him, T'Pol used the quiet time to reflect as well. Together like this as they were, lying on her bunk, it felt to her as if they'd been apart longer than the former unique circumstance had mandated. When Trip finally spoke again, T'Pol perceived that he had been rummaging through the esoteric workings of warp theory and its handmaiden, quantum mechanics. "He's really got it on the ball. Stabilizin' the warp field from square one is the trickiest thing I know in normal space. He aced it in some lulu of a hodgepodge of abnormalcy." Trip whistled. "That Denobulan's got skills. Manipulatin' space and time isn't like walkin' across the street to the grocer's to pick up a six-pack, and that's on a good day. I know whose shoulder to tap in a pinch next time." He thought he saw a look ripple through T'Pol's attentive eyes, causing him to quickly qualify, "Of course, if you're unavailable, that is." "I agree. Doctor Phlox is highly-qualified in many fields. Medicine and applied Astro-Physics are merely two of a host." "But you're no slouch yourself, darlin'." His lips found their way to her forehead and made themselves right at home. Her skin always smelled wonderful, like the subtle essence of fresh-cut flowers with just a hint of sage. Though he teased her, her cleanliness intoxicated him. "Sure you feel okay? Not lightheaded?" "Fine. How do you feel?" "Not too bad considerin'. When Phlox brought me out I thought I was back home, not Florida mind ya, but San Francisco. Guess I reckon Starfleet's my second one." He angled his head away from her. "Got a little crick in my neck, though. Sore, but I'll live. Must've slept on it the wrong way too long." "I can remedy it with some neuro-pressure." She favored him with one of her best deep, soulful looks. The backs of his fingers ceased their caress against her silken jawline. Faithfully, his intrepid digits began their ascent to the peak of her right ear, one of several favorite sites she relished him massaging. His smile was one of genuine gratitude. "Maybe later. I'm good as is." After yawning, he smiled again, looking as though he hadn't a care in the galaxy. "Or, perhaps we should have sex now and neuro-pressure afterward." Her cut and dry declaration ignited a furnace beginning to happen underneath his uniform. Their clothing was no obstacle; she could have them both stripped down to their bare essentials in no seconds flat. Despite his thoughts dipping into the torrid zone, he ordered himself to keep his cool. "M-maybe we could just keep lyin' here like this awhile longer. Just talkin'. It's real nice, holdin' ya...bein' together. Means a lot to me. You don't haveta throw sex at me, like it's the only thing I want from ya. I'm not goin' anywhere." "You don't want sex?" she said, sounding as though he had just told her humans were more logical than Vulcans, always had been, and that his species had initiated first contact. "Not right now...unless... Uh? You've gotta have it right this minute." Chuckling, he snuggled tighter with her. She resisted his concerted bid for greater closeness. "You don't enjoy sexual union...with me." He put a hand to her chin and his thumb pressed into her pliant skin. "Yeah, sure, right. That's it. Just like I can't stand pecan pie anymore, which I inhale with both nostrils." "It is only logical you would prefer a human woman, or some other species of alien female as you've shown preferences for in the past. I'm not the optimal choice." Trip felt the bunk buck, and his mind with it. "What the hell's logic got to do with it? You're talkin' nuts, ya know that? Where's this comin' from? Never figured you for havin' insecurities, T'Pol, sheeesh. Never in a million years." But that wasn't wholly true. Someone young, new to the wild and wacky world of relationships would do what she'd done: sleep with a guy to either get him, or keep him. Following a sigh, Trip closed his eyes and softly began humming bits and pieces of, "Too Marvelous For Words," just one of many schmaltzy ditties his dad used to drizzle his mom with. Bemusedly, T'Pol let his spate of thought-provoking words sink in. She was loath to admit to him that that was her supposition, if their ebullient first encounter was the criterion. His overriding interest in her was sexual. Wasn't it what all human males solely cared about, craved, anytime, anywhere, anyplace? And, she was still quite the greenhorn to the playing field. It had never occurred to her, prior to this surprising conversation, unfolding, that he was capable of wanting much beyond that. As with everything else since their interacting from day one, Trip never failed to be her prime candidate for underestimating which went hand in hand with misunderstanding. "I think it's safe to say we enjoy each other a whole lot." "Our experiences are satisfying," T'Pol assented. Not knowing what got into her, and half-suspecting he was waiting for her to say, she thought it imperative to add, "*Very.*" "And we just keep gettin' better each and every time. True?" She nodded against him as he fiddled with her earlobe, heightening her sense of pleasure and a good deal of well-being. Attuning her to his easygoingness with each gentle, playful flick, Trip started humming again long enough for him to order his thoughts. "So, how is it I still know next to nothin' about ya? We turn each other on faster than greased lightnin' and when it's all over, we never talk. I mean, really talk. You get right on with business as usual, and, followin' your lead, me too." His tone was wistful. "Just before Phlox put me under, I promised myself I'd say this to ya. I'm sure glad we made it so I can now..." He forestalled. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not criticizin'. It's just sometimes I wish we could have gotten to know each other better before rushin' headlong into sex. I'm not blamin'. I sure as hell didn't brake when you came at me full speed ahead. More than anythin', my shock called the shots. I was so flattered you even considered wantin' me, I went with your roll. Score first, ask questions later." Her silence was neither good nor bad, by his evaluation, so he kept going. "Well, now is later, and I'm askin'. Do ya even like me for the man, the person I am, even a little? Or are we just screwin' buddies? Nothin' more?" "Screwin' buddies?" "Friends who fuc -- uh, what I mean is...have sex, and that's all. No feelin's, and not the way you think of havin' no feelin's. I mean there's just no intent behind the act. We do it for the rush, the pleasure...the zippity-do-da." "I trust you," T'Pol supported, rising up from him so she could see him better. The open look on his face perplexed her. "But, I'm still an experiment?" he sanctioned like a lament. When he saw she couldn't answer, he assured, "It's okay; it's all still so new, hey for me too. Not to imply you don't have a clue. And, I'm no stranger to bein' used, so there's no problem with it. Women, any old kind, whether the Earth variety or they come from Venus, mystify the life outta me. I'm no genius when it comes to relationships. To save myself headaches, I just go along, not makin' waves, hopin' for the best. I don't haveta tell ya how good that's worked. Not a track record I'm proud of. Somehow, my true to form's not good enough with you. I know I'm pushin', but you know me. Could I ever matter to ya? Even a little?" He wasn't expecting an answer, but hoping for one, he focused on the poignancy she lent to the moment. He wasn't aware of how shallow his breathing had become. "You..." She hesitated as though breathing had become difficult, as though whether she spoke or remained silent, she'd suffocate either way. "Don't answer if it's a stupid question." Unused to the onslaught of so many feelings, T'Pol listened as though he were speaking to someone else. "I'm not tryin' to be the usual me...Mister Difficult." He tapped the tip of her nose, liking its nearly imperceptible twitch. "I'm not gripin', believe me. You're the greatest. Great lover, greater friend. I'm lucky to have you as both." Being a true friend to him was the gem she grabbed on to. Finally, she confessed, "You are no experiment." Trip studied her face, agog. She never looked more appealing to him. He had a strong feeling this wasn't easy for her, and of course he was absolutely correct. Yet, not uncharacteristically, there was a quiet strength leeching out of every one of her pores, and firm determination not to mislead him any longer. "You were never that, 'th'at ashalik.'" She hung her head as the full recompense for rationalizing in the first place hit her. "'Th'at ashalik,' he repeated lazily, languishing in the term of endearment's phonetics. Having read all he could in the particular Vulcan database he had sought, into the wee hours, he knew what the phrase meant. "Then this relationship's got real potential, is what you're sayin'?" Sucking on his lower lip with her amazing mouth, she whispered into his, "That depends upon us, doesn't it?" "All systems are go. Going...going...gone!" Taking her into his arms, he gently rested her on her pillow, and held on tight. Still and all, his 'ashalik' had him easily beat. Her embrace was that of a vise. "Man, you're one strong woman..." "For a human male, you're no slouch..." "T'Pol," he buried in the side of her face. TBC -- 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 ???@??? Mon Feb 23 23:57:01 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n12.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.67]) by vulture (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1aVu7G2KW3NZFl50 for ; Mon, 23 Feb 2004 20:24:43 -0800 (PST) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13218-1077596556-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yah oo.com Received: from [66.218.66.156] by n25.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 02 Mar 2004 15:12:18 -0000 X-Sender: stephenbratliffasc@earthlink.net X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 89078 invoked from network); 2 Mar 2004 15:12:14 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.217) by m16.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 2 Mar 2004 15:12:14 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO avocet.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.50) by mta2.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 2 Mar 2004 15:12:13 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-022dcwashp0273.dialsprint.net ([63.191.161.19]) by avocet.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1AyBZ4-0005yq-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Tue, 02 Mar 2004 07:12:10 -0800 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.50 From: ASC-VSO X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Tue, 02 Mar 2004 10:12:22 -0500 Subject: [ASC] NEW ENT Mood Swing - Part 16 - PG-13 (T/Tu) Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Buy Ink Cartridges or Refill Kits for your HP, Epson, Canon or Lexmark & Cana Printer at MyInks.com. Free s/h on orders $50 or more to the US da. http://www.c1tracking.com/l.asp?cid=5511 http://us.click.yahoo.com/mOAaAA/3exGAA/qnsNAA/5x3olB/TM ---------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 28 Feb 2004 10:20:59 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (16/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 16 RATING: PG-13 STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Romance/Friendship SPOILERS: Hatchery ARCHIVE: Yes DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scene. Mood Swing - Part 16 "What?" Still looking at her strangely, Trip didn't answer right away. He halted their journey away from Sickbay momentarily. The echoes of their footfalls gradually fading in the gently humming corridor. Trip shut his eyes and freed a long breath. "Commander? Are you feeling all right?" The Vulcan, in the throes of mulling mode, mistook his pained expression for his feeling malaise. "Perhaps you should return to Sickbay..." He shook his head, but it was a halfhearted gesture. "I'm okay. It's only..." He sidled up against the wall, folding his arms over his chest, his unsettled look firmly set. "Somethin' keeps replayin' in my mind, and it won't quit no matter how hard I try to forget it; can't shake it." He opened his eyes slowly. Beneath the weight of his sigh he heard his own despair. He wondered what life post-mutiny aboard Enterprise would be like. Had loyalties and trusts been strained to, if not the breaking point, a position not too far from it? "What does?" "Seein' those critters...the Xindi hatchlin's crawlin' all over the cap'n, like they were right at home. And the cap'n with that vacant look on his face..." He couldn't help but flinch again, involuntarily. "It takes the cake as bein' the creepiest thing I've seen regardless of how many away missions I've been on." It was nearly the worst creeping-out of his life. The worst having been when his father had taken him fishing and the slow-flowing stream they'd fished teemed with leeches. Before Trip had realized what the deal was, his dad was peeling the 'yucky' things off them both, mostly from where the sun never shined. "Your decisive action proved to be his salvation." At best, T'Pol could only vaguely imagine what he had witnessed firsthand. Evidently, the impression the tableau had left was deep. "I stunned him without even thinkin'; my beam cut him down before I could blink. It was like I fired with my mind 'stead of a finger. Everythin' you said rushed into my head." Forgetting to keep the rest to himself, Trip blurted, "And what he said about what you were doin' to me." T'Pol raised an eyebrow, looking at Trip pointedly, a look he recognized all too well. "I mean--" "What did he say I was doing to you?" For only a moment, the new nature of their relationship felt threatening. Though Archer's neural cortex had been severly compromised, despite its impairment, did the captain sense this new dynamic between Tucker and herself? Being discreet was important, if for no other reason than to stop idle talk before it ever started, despite her insistence that their new-found closeness was nobody's concern save their own. For a reason she was at a loss to define, she didn't want the captain knowing about them. Regretting what he'd divulged, Trip didn't reply, readily, the way he sensed she wanted him to. "I'd like to know," T'Pol pressed, but she had removed the bark of it being a command from her tone. Trip said it in one breath. "He said you were manipulatin' me." With his gaze unwavering from hers, he gripped her shoulders with both hands. "If ever that was callin' the kettle black. Those Xindi whelps had him thinkin' he was their momma. If it wasn't for your seein' it first, God only knows how far it could have gone." "Obviously you did not judge manipulation on my part to be true." "Hell no. Score two big ones for the Vulcan team." Trip noticed that instead of T'Pol opening distance between them, she was closing it, little by little. "Let's just say Jon wasn't addin' up, and you never quit bein' the voice of all that's logical. When it comes to logic, you rule." He gave both shoulder cuffs tight squeezes. "And you don't hear me complainin', do ya? Well, at least not as loud as I used to." T'Pol, giving him cat's eyes, untangled herself from his grasp, and to his amazement, took him by the hand. "This way..." "What? Huh? Wher'?" "Do you question where logic leads?" "All depends," he teasingly replied. "...Uh, T'Pol?" A comm linkage configuration, she thought, thinking the enclosed, recessed port would do nicely. Once she had them safely hidden from anyone who might have happened along, she wasted no time molding her body to Trip's who was pleasantly taken aback. Being lead down the garden path never felt so good. He was tingly all over in no seconds flat. "Why, you little dickens, and the feelin' is every bit as mutual. I've missed ya too." Her being confined to quarters had galled him to no end. "Keepin' ya cooped up, under guard, made me madder than a nest of stirred up hornets." He gathered her hands up to his mouth, planting worshipful kisses on their backs. "I admire the way you never lose your cool, darlin', no matter how extreme the circumstance becomes. External factors like Pa'nar Syndrome and trellium D poisonin', don't count." Sensuously, T'Pol wreathed her arms around his neck, enthralling him, owning every inch of him. Coming up for air, his tongue still partially hanging out of his mouth, Trip huskily purred her name into her ear, and suggestively followed up, "I have no problem with manipulation, darlin'. I'll never look at putty the same way again. Mold me..." Impulsively, she cemented her lips firmly with his until he incoherently mumbled about needing air. Kissing the point of her ear, Trip tried to sound more professional. "After I speak with the cap'n, got plans?" "A session?" The crisp glee in his voice had an enlivening ring to it after living on a ship where mirth had, for all intents and purposes, been banished for far too many days. "N-P our way. Can't get enough." He ducked out of the enclosure and the privacy it had lent, not departing before throwing her a wink. "Usual time. Promise I won't be late." When he saw the unmistakable glint dance in her eyes, he laughed. He blew her a kiss, then coached, "You're supposed to catch it." He waved a hand at her. "I'll demonstrate later. See ya." There was a definite bounce to his step. T'Pol left the enclosure and continued on her way to the command center. Her work with Hoshi was far from over. They'd just begun making a dent in the data previously collected. Despite the captain's stripping his first in command of her rank, and not rescinding his decision, as yet, she owed whatever she had to give to this crew, her adopted family. Rank and position had nothing to do with it. The Xindi, and whoever sided with them, could not prevail. Loyalty and the keenest sense of belonging, belonging like never before in her life, which made a real difference to her, were paramount. TBC -- 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 ???@??? Tue Mar 02 10:17:39 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n31.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.99]) by vulture (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1aYbCC3sY3NZFl50 for ; Tue, 2 Mar 2004 07:15:49 -0800 (PST) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13241-1078240339-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yah o.com Received: from [66.218.67.200] by n37.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 06 Mar 2004 04:27:48 -0000 X-Sender: stephenbratliffasc@earthlink.net X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 71941 invoked from network); 6 Mar 2004 04:27:48 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.216) by m8.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 6 Mar 2004 04:27:48 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO grebe.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.46) by mta1.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 6 Mar 2004 04:27:48 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-022dcwashp0318.dialsprint.net ([63.191.161.64]) by grebe.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1AzTPe-00060R-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Fri, 05 Mar 2004 20:27:46 -0800 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.46 From: ASC-VSO X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Fri, 05 Mar 2004 23:27:55 -0500 Subject: [ASC] FIC: ENT: Mood Swing - Part 17 - PG T/Tu Major Spoiler Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 5 Mar 2004 08:35:29 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (17/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 17 RATING: PG STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Romance/Friendship/Angst SPOILERS: Azati Prime (MAJOR spoiler contained. If your wish is to remain unspoiled, don't read.) ARCHIVE: Yes DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scene. Mood Swing - Part 17 "Dismissed..." "Dismissed?" He looks wounded, as though a blast from my phase pistol, the setting a little higher than stun, has just lanced him. He's shocked too; even more than when I kissed him our first time. I mustn't weaken--I must be what I once was: T'Pol of Vulcan... strong, strong, tenable by sheer force of will. No adulteration. A paragon of unshakable convictions who succumbed all too easily. What was I thinking? My experimentation controls me...not I it, as it was at the beginning of my indulging. I'm a true addict, with no will of my own left, driven by riotous emotions gone wild. "Get out," I murmur, commanding myself not to snap, like the crack of a whip. The air crackles with raw emotions, his and mine... He hesitates, but finally turns and gets moving. The tables are turned, as he would say. He seems better equipped to handle this critical situation, far better than I. I cannot control myself...cannot summon the resolve...the ability to THINK-- At least I thought he left. I mistook the door's closing for his being on the other side of it. "I'll leave when I'm good and ready," he defies with a look of pugnacious tenacity aimed dead center at me. "You want me to leave so almighty bad, MAKE ME!" The commander, my would-be counselor, means well, and despite the profundity of my anger, I appreciate that. I'm not angry with him; I am angry with myself. Captain Archer's decision was stupid. I should have been the one to go, not he. I see the advice my lover wants so eargerly to bestow, the understanding he thinks I need, welling up within him. I stifle my gasp, feeling my eyes blurr, rife with tears begging to be shed. *NO! NOT AGAIN!* I won't shed another one. *No...* I beg of myself. If there is any shred of self-control still left in me, I forbid becoming as They were! But...perhaps it is far too late... 'I'm sorry,' I grit out an apology amidst the turmoil that besets my unhinging mind. He mustn't see me like this, approaching my being no better than the paranoid, maniac Vulcans aboard the Seleya, my former appointment, who were poisoned by the insidiously seductive substance I've abused, rather than use as a control. Little did the commander know that when he told me the trellium was stored in the bio-hazard locker that I'd seek it out... using it in minute quantities in order to preserve my emotional reactions to limited exposure. As a scientist, I've utterly failed, and as a Vulcan... I'm a blink away from competely losing ALL restraint. "LEAVE ME," I hiss. I did not realize he had come nearer to the desk, didn't feel his hands on me. He dragging me to my feet and wrapping his arms around me. "Not on your life." It appears my human is made of sterner stuff than I routinely give him credit for. "Please...I." I order myself to ignore the pleasing comfort his embrace lends, but I meld with it, clearly not myself at all, and more than I could have ever hoped to have been. He may believe I used him, but I never meant to. I began using what was forbidden, knowing full well what its use could entail, and ultimately cost me, but, regardless of the risk, I was determined to succeed, so perhaps others might too. Maybe I should have told him everything after I was more sure of his feelings. But if I had, he might have felt used then, and I would be disgraced in his eyes. Could he ever trust me again? What he thinks about me still matters, it always has, though I diligently strove to make it appear otherwise. His opinions are important; that will never change. "Take a few deep breaths," he advises; his chin propped up upon my shoulder reminds me that he means well. Sadly, impossibly, I have much to answer for... "Now a few more, and relax. You're tenser than a steel drum, sug--" He doesn't finish because he knows I do not like being referred to as a substance added to beverages to sweeten them. Mindlessly, I obey and achieve a greater measure of calmness, far more than when I came in here to escape their honed scrutiny, their suffocating waiting upon my next command. My illogical, consistently intuitive lover making so much sense. I, slavishly reduced to an overreactive simpleton, well, nearly. At least, on the verge of breaking down, I had the better sense to flee. "Here, let me help..." He tries turning me around so my back will face him, but I refuse to budge. Resourcefully, he works around what he calls my stubborness, letting me remain as I am, slabbed flush against him. His hands methodically track along my spine, and armed with the practice they have been schooled in, seek my pressure points. I yearn for, then find healing and reassurance in his touch. Some stability... Over these several months, he has become quite good. And he would say it's because he had a great teacher, literally, in both senses. If he knew how addicted I am to the addictive, would he still want me? Hold me in esteem? I am damaged, perhaps beyond repair... "Better?" "The lowest vertebra as well..." "Sure thing." Of the many things I admire about him, and more since our coming together, his alacrity to please, bordering on there being no thought involved, amazes me even during this extreme hour of crisis. He repeats every placement to pressured perfection. I release the breath when he tells me to exhale, ending the effective exercise, and his arms encircle my body to embrace me, a second time. I won't embrace him so he hugs me tighter until he must sense I'm not the crazy woman who just screamed at him. "I let my pessimism get the better of me when I said what I did before. There's a chance he could make it back, ya know, despite his dire predictions before he left. It's slim to none, but you know ol' cap'n. Against all odds never stopped him before. I'm bettin' he takes out their weapon with him in one piece, don't ask me how, then hightails it back here where he belongs." I nod against his shoulder, using the fabric of his uniform to absorb a drip of telltale moisture that managed to escape my eye. I feel the tip of his pointy nose nuzzle my right earlobe before he kisses it. "You care about him too. Don'tcha think I know that? Read you, remember?" He puffs soft breaths in my ear. I frown. He didn't sound jealous. Quite the opposite, as though he's proud; it's only right I should. "So, darlin', ya know what you're gonna do?" I ease away from him, with dry eyes, staring deeply into his matchless ones which are an azure color of smoked glass for as long as it takes to convince me that I don't have to face any of this alone. "You're not the lettin' folks down type. Don't start now. See ya out there." He spins around as though being struck by another pearl of wisdom. "And we're not just countin' on you, T'Pol. We're countin' on each other. Forgettin' that's just wrong." And then he leaves, as though I kicked him out, but with a satisfied smile on his face. A smile I've come to look for, not thinking twice. In the privacy of my thoughts, it is no longer shameful admitting to myself how much I prize this man. The only human I've ever come to...love. Damaged beyond repair...but I shirk that possible reality off, knowing I have work to do. As long as I am partially in my right mind, I will succeed. I was deceived, made faulty decisions; I'm a betrayer, having been deluded that through my efforts, I might help stave off cataclysm. You self-assuming fool!!! The captain must return, there is no middle ground. The entire reason for my choosing to remain with this crew is bound up in him. Even if he has somehow suffered capture, I'll rescue him, no looking back. My life is forfeit. "I'm sorry, Trip...I never meant to hurt you...or...him...any of you." Your friendships are true. I never understood--until now! TBC -- 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 ???@??? Fri Mar 05 23:28:58 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n34.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.102]) by sparrow (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1aZtpS4Yc3NZFjV0 for ; Fri, 5 Mar 2004 20:28:00 -0800 (PST) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13278-1078547278-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yah o.com Received: from [66.218.66.31] by n18.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 25 Apr 2004 04:27:35 -0000 X-Sender: stephen@trekiverse.org X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 93473 invoked from network); 25 Apr 2004 04:27:34 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.216) by m25.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 25 Apr 2004 04:27:34 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO mallard.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.48) by mta1.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 25 Apr 2004 04:27:34 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-016dcwashp0205.dialsprint.net ([63.188.160.205]) by mallard.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1BHbEp-0002sH-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Sat, 24 Apr 2004 21:27:31 -0700 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.48 X-eGroups-From: Stephen From: Stephen X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Sun, 25 Apr 2004 00:27:25 -0400 Subject: [ASC] NEW ENT Mood Swing - Part 18 - PG-13 (T/Tu) Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Buy Ink Cartridges or Refill Kits for your HP, Epson, Canon or Lexmark & Cana Printer at MyInks.com. Free s/h on orders $50 or more to the US da. http://www.c1tracking.com/l.asp?cid=5511 http://us.click.yahoo.com/mOAaAA/3exGAA/qnsNAA/5x3olB/TM ---------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 23 Apr 2004 18:38:48 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (18/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 18 RATING: PG STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Angst SPOILERS: Damage ARCHIVE: Yes DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: T'Pol POV Mood Swing - Part 18 I want these emotions...I own these emotions...I want these emotions...I own...I...want... In acute frustration, I bunch up the debris-soiled bedding of my battered bunk, my hands like clamps. I OWN NOTHING--THEY OWN ME!! I feel powerless to undo what I have willfully done all due to my obsession. More useless shedding of tears I have no recourse but to shed. The first time I cried was for our sacrificial captain. I shed more, in the privacy of my wrecked quarters owed to his safe, although harrowing return. It is still unclear why his captors released him. Now, my tears are for me and my insidious loss of self-control. My utter failure to keep "Enterprise" safe from harm likewise plagues me. If Soval could see me now...my mother and father... Would shame impel them to disavow their ever knowing me? I can answer that, but I won't. I feel enough shame for every man, woman and even the youngest neophyte on my homeworld. I am no longer Vulcan; I am nobody. I'm bereft; I have no dignity. I envy Porthos, who somehow survived while others perished in the attack. Maybe the furry quadruped has more intelligence that I never credited him for. Who is ruled by a ruthless addiction? Who is drowning in an ocean of rapid-firing emotions? Anyone with even the meagerest intellect be the judge. I roll onto my side, gnashing my fist against my teeth, biting down hard until the keen taste of my own blood seeps into my mouth. Every fiber of my being screams out for Trellium-D, but I mustn't succumb; not again--I must be strong for everyone...for him, my undaunted, blond intimate companion whom I have misled. But most of all, I must redeem myself; if I fail myself by weakening again, what hope is there for me? After what has felt like an eternity, I fall asleep. The debacle of not having dignity, I chant in an ancient Vulcan dialect, the language of the early sages. In my mind's eye, Surek's tome becomes a millstone around my neck. In conjunction with his mentor, he urges me to hurl myself into a turbulent sea while they impassively look on from the distant shoreline. I hesitate, and not raising their voices, they serenely state I will ultimately find peace. Surek's mentor, sounding very much like Soval, informs me that no sacrifice is too great in the way of transcendent fulfillment. But HE strongly disagrees. He is naked, standing in the soaking jets of the shower. The beauty of his body lures me. My enamored commander scrutinizes me with those cooly serene blue eyes of his and I melt. He extends his sinewy arms out to me; no verbal invitation is offered. None is needed. I meld with him, and rawly he murmurs into the flesh of my shoulder, "I can't get enough of ya naked, baby!" Before turning me around to face him, he massages my neck thoroughly, then proceeds to nibble his torturing way clear to the tip of my left ear. His lips speak of his greed, and his skilled tongue laps against all the points he knows drive me 'crazy,' as he loves to exaggerate. But, he doesn't exaggerate; I just say he does. He doesn't. He crazes me...over and over again. I crave everything he forces me to feel. It is all so new, so intoxicating! I'll never be sated... While his rough, relentless hands ravage my body and stoke my soul, he feeds my hunger. He is best like this, demanding, heedless, selfish. The way humans 'make love,' as they term it, and this human in particular, is becoming equally addictive. And it isn't enough; I want even more. More and more, it must never end! I won't let it! I want him more wanton, more like me, but I can feel how he holds back. He infuriates me! *NOOOO* The feeble human isn't giving me what I want! He is weak and all the molten passion I feel for him churns within me and my blood flows through me like lava. Desperately, I shove him back against the slick wall, then rush him, sealing my lips over his like a hermetic seal. He trembles now, but not from sexual frenzy. He fears--he fears me, and his fear demands he cast me away. He propels me, but since I am stronger, the exertion saps his strength. I despise him and his weakness. With an all-consuming hatred, I pounce upon him, bent on choking the very life out of his impotent body. I DETEST WEAKNESS! Before snapping his neck clean, violently, I shiver awake, hungrier than ever, but not for my feeble lover whom I wanted to murder for his worthlessness. A nightmare! I shiver hard again, fully cognizant now, and consequently appalled of how indeed I wanted to kill Char--'Trip.' Killing him was my sole desire. I am horrified, and sick with shame! I curl into a ball upon my freezing bunk and hug myself so tightly, I feel the pulse in my legs. Oh, please, someone--anyone--save me. Save me from myself and my nightmares--my demented, phantasmic perceptions. Why have I let this happen? WHY? TRELLIUM-D--I crave it like never before, and I will have it! I won't rest until its seductive splendor, its matchless power to soothe yet incite, fondles my tortured 'katra.' I'll do *anything* to get it! Its sensuous, emotions-expanding splendor is life itself. It, as my alleviator, is the only palliative I need. I said I'd do anything, and I did, which involved nearly killing myself. I prepare the injector and administer the volatile derivative. This is the highest dosage I've ever allowed myself. I keep my eyes pasted closed as the astounding effects of the altered Trellium-D take hold. My eyes flutter frantically beneath their lids, as does my heart in the pit of my chest which burns, but with an unnatural fire. In the back of my mind the nagging thought molests me again, but this time, I heed what it's been trying to get through to me since starting down this all too unstable path... "I must tell Phlox," I advise myself, aloud. "Why tell him? You know you don't want to," my irrational makeup, with more of a mind of its own due to this dalliance, complains like a whining child. "This is not who I am, what I'm meant to be." The rationale silences the whiner, but for how long? I think about 'Trip' as another tear begins gliding down my cheek, and I let it, now free to since the derivative modulates my responsive feelings. I will never hate him, but he hating me is inevitable, I bitterly pass judgement. Yet, hoping against hope, I yearn for him to understand. TBC -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Awards Tech Support http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/ No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards 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 Apr 25 00:31:46 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n37.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.105]) by killdeer (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1bhBfG3l3NZFlr0 for ; Sat, 24 Apr 2004 21:28:24 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13489-1082867304-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yah eceived: from [66.218.67.192] by n45.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 08 May 2004 04:03:57 -0000 X-Sender: stephen@trekiverse.org X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 44918 invoked from network); 8 May 2004 04:03:56 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.167) by m10.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 8 May 2004 04:03:56 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO grouse.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.116) by mta6.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 8 May 2004 04:03:56 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-028dcwashp0103.dialsprint.net ([65.177.96.103]) by grouse.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1BMJ44-00044y-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Fri, 07 May 2004 21:03:52 -0700 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.116 X-eGroups-From: Stephen From: Stephen X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Sat, 08 May 2004 00:03:26 -0400 Subject: [ASC] Fic: ENT - Mood Swing - Part 20 - PG-13 - T/Tu Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Yahoo! Domains - Claim yours for only $14.70 http://us.click.yahoo.com/Z1wmxD/DREIAA/yQLSAA/5x3olB/TM ---------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 7 May 2004 20:40:36 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (20/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 20 RATING: PG-13 STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Angst/Humor/Friendship/ST SPOILERS: Carbon Creek, Harbinger, Azati Prime, Damage, The Forgotten, E2 ARCHIVE: Yes, any and all. DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scenes... Mood Swing - Part 20 "Follow your heart..." That's what the wizened T'Pol aboard the alternate Enterprise had advised. She'd said there was only one person aboard the battered Enterprise who could help her. That one person being: "Trip," the elderly Vulcan had unstintingly declared. Youthful T'Pol had embraced her words from that moment forward, even if the entrails of her logic scoffed. The emotions she had tapped into would be with her for the rest of her life, according to the aged one. Possibly, Trip might prove to be the truest, kindest outlet for them she could ever hope for. The old T'Pol seemed to know of what she'd spoken...as if it had been decreed. Although, their having had a son, Lorain, in that alternate universe...that seemed blatantly far-fetched. Why would they have wanted a son together, even with Phlox' intervention? Why, indeed? The commander sat up, but slowly, as she often advised him to do, so he wouldn't undo her careful work. He always liked her bunk, being here with her like this, but he felt nervous, and wasn't sure he had the guts to ask her. He hadn't felt this nervous since their very first session. This one, now concluded, had the potential for being his last, end of story. But he had to ask; he had to know, once and for all. "How do you feel?" T'Pol folded her hands in her lap, signaling that she had finished; she watched him closely. Warmth had settled in her eyes, he noted, and welcomed it with open arms. He wondered why, instead of her pajamas, she was wearing tank top and those shorts that traveled up her legs for days. "Good as new, thanks to you...sleepy like you wouldn't believe." "Which was the goal," T'Pol said, making a decision. If he asked to say, she'd let him. Day by day, she felt more stable, better than she had been. She hadn't had the nightmare of strangling him since the end of Trellium-D usage, and it was a great relief. She would never be able to thank Phlox enough for all of his understanding and effective treatment. Due in large part to the sympathetic Denobulan, she had begun trusting herself being in the second in command's company for longer periods. She regretted how insolently she'd treated Trip after the captain departed in his ill-fated attempt to destroy the Xindi superweapon. She regretted many things, looking back... They sat side by side now, their thighs touching. Trip reached for his powder blue T-shirt, lying across the pillow, and began putting it on. When the top of his head peeked through the shirt's opening, his pointy nose jutting against the fabric looked odd, odd and amusing in an endearing sort of way. T'Pol just kept watching, daring herself to ask him to stay. Would he think she wanted him sexually again if she asked? She wasn't sure she wanted him that way right now, but she was sure that his presence was what she'd missed. The confident sound of his voice, the trustworthiness his eyes brought her were just as addictive as what she'd been abusing. Even his scent was a comforter, no longer offensive now. He had his shirt back on, but didn't look as though he was in any hurry to leave. In fact, T'Pol got the feeling he was building up to something. "T'Pol..." "Yes, Tr--" She caught herself just in time to see his eyes widen in arrant amazement. She felt the heat in her face spike, but her facial expression, as deadpan as ever, matched the staidness ingrained in her tone of voice. "Commander?" Another major setback, Trip rushed to judge, like her telling him their having sexual relations had been a mistake. He regretted she used his rank, but all things considered, she'd *almost* said *it,* as though her use of his nickname bordered on being second nature. Perhaps, in time, was it destined to be? Were they? Those were hopes worth nurturing. "I need to ask ya somethin'." "If you need to," T'Pol ventured, "then do so." The raising of the eyebrow closest to Trip she'd done more as an afterthought than it being premeditated. "I will listen to you speak on any matter you feel you must discuss, as I told you." "I'm not tryin' ta be cute, or anythin' by bringin' it up again." He resisted the urge to look away from her. He'd done too much of it when he'd poured his heart out to her over Lizzie and the millions of others struck down by the Xindi. He was determined to overcome this failing. He frowned down at his hands that had begun trembling to a degree as their dampness moistened his sweatpants. She closed her hand over the nearest of his hands. When she squeezed it, she felt her distrait consort jump a little. "Charles," T'Pol announced, the crispness of confidence her hallmark, "just ask." He gulped down his remaining hesitancy, and looking her dead in her eyes, requested, "Are...are ya really sorry..." As his chest expanded, and then gradually his breath left his body, he capped, "We had sex, like ya said? Was what ya did with me the worst thing you've ever done in your life? I'd really like to know. If what we did was the worst thing imaginable, I'll leave ya be. Whether we had a son together or didn't in some other time continuum, I'll get the hell outta your life, and stay out." She wasn't sorry, despite what she'd thrown in his face days ago, and he'd branded her as being stubborn. But neither was she pleased with the way her emotions had abused her while under Trellium-D influence, ganging up on any semblance of reason she fought to hold on to. Sounding more irritated than he actually felt, Trip asserted, "Tell me one way or the other. You're entitled to your feelin's. I won't fault ya. How can I?" In his mind, sterling words nailed it down, *I love ya, T'Pol--I love ya. It's crazy, intense and it'll always be one-sided, but what the hell? I love ya, my problem. I'm no stranger to finished before it's started; the good Lord knows. Done it so many stupid times, what's one more?* "T'Pol?" She shivered imperceptively. "Commander..." He gave her one of his damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead smiles, his versatile security blanket. "Hey, it's okay. It's peachy keen. I understand. It's not the end of the world, at least not yet, anyway. You don't feel the same, like I do, the way I've started to. I just want ya ta know...I'll always be glad we happened. And, yeah, I'm gettin' emotional, so sue me. There'll never be any woman finer; you're perfection, and, like it or not, I've got feelin's for ya." He sighed deeply, and his exhalation fanned her face. "No regrets. Not a one. Just hope I wasn't a diasappointment. I gave ya my best, least I tried ta." His wink was saucy to say the least when he tacked on, "Every time we had it goin' on again." Boyishly he gushed, "Ya kept me comin' back for more." He grew more serious then. "If I was nothin' more than exploration, like ya say, then it was what it was. I' live with it. Hope I contributed somethin' useful to the cause of Vulcan research." T'Pol realized Trip was sincere; his sincerity was palpable, and broke her down to a certain extent. Her hand, clamped around his, was restricting blood flow like a tourniquet. So much so, that the pins and needles sensation pricked his hand's palm. "I must tell you something," she voiced, staring when Trip covered the hand that was squeezing the blood out of his hand with his other one. "I...I..." T'Pol, feeling herself on the brink of being at the mercy of her genie-like emotions, shook. She shook to such an alarming degree that it forced Trip to anchor his arm around her shoulders and hold her to himself tightly. And he smiled at her the way he had when she'd told him humans were the ones to be envied. "If you want to tell me, that's fine, but if it's too difficult to get out right now, save it for another time. I'm not goin' anywhere if I can help it, and I'll help it, as long as you don't go anywhere." She rested her head against him, and quietly told him, "I don't want to go anywhere without you..." As with the use of his nickname, she almost called him 't'hyl'a.' Now wasn't the time for calling him such, one day, though, but not this day. She shouted the voices of dissension within her down, and told him everything: her abuse of Trellium-D, her abuse, as she viewed it, of him, the warped nightmare of her wanting to destroy him, owing to the intimacy they'd shared and his potent charisma, which had, monumentally been the catalyst for satisfying her curiosities from the beginning. The deep terrible shame she felt, coupled with so many of her bullying doubts, had caused her to keep her distance from him, until his need for her demanded she stop hiding. What Trip saw, he voiced, in his usual passionate style. "You took that crap for me!" "How do you arrive at that verisimilitude?" T'Pol asked, stunned, but in better control. He was really quite astute for such an illogical human, the human she was willing to risk her sanity for. "*Me.* Mista Walkin' With His Emotions On His Sleeve, Me, twenty-four, seven. You were curious, and I just don't mean 'bout human sexuality, either. Emotions got ya hooked, darlin'. Okay, maybe I'm bein' a touch egotistical, not ta mention a tad simplistic, sayin' it was just mine that got ya started, but dealin' with me everyday put ya through your paces, am I wrong?" T'Pol nestled more firmly against his strong body, her feelings approaching a leveling off. She felt calmer than she'd been in days, weeks. Tender feelings for him flooded her. "You are seldom wrong, Charles." Trip gasped; he had to gawk, snaking his head around at her, wanting a better study of her face looking stone serious. She had practically hauled off and slugged him between the eyes with that assessment out of left field. "You're sure you're off Trell-D?" he said with a generous helping of ribbing. "Sounds like you're still seriously trippin'." He enjoyed her look of utter non-comprehension. "Trippin'...high, on whatever turns ya on...drugs, booze... Uh, stoned, T'Pol, not yourself, whack outta your mind. Boldly flyin' without benefit of a warp-capable starship." His laugh was sardonic. "Next thing you'll be tellin' me is I've never lost my temper since knowin' ya." "Not quite," T'Pol countered. Looking at him quizzically, and sounding a little naive, she asked, "Have you ever been addicted to anything?" Trip just smiled at her sweetly, batting his beautiful, lucid eyes, deciding to keep mum about where she stood with him on that subject. A glorious image of her standing nude before him flashed in his mind. He butted her nose with the tip of his. T'Pol believed he wanted to kiss her mouth, so she beat him to it, helping herself to his. Unlike the first time she'd taken the initiative, this kiss had less of an edge, and more of a heart. Trip's tongue took its sweet time about leaving hers behind when they finally parted. His lips brushed against the peak of her nose. "Now that's what I call a rush, darlin'." His hand came up to touch her cheek. She didn't pull away. "I'm kinda partial to Jack Daniels, a whiskey sour, occasionally, but when ya get right down to it, nothin' as, well, as volatile as Trell-D. Maybe you'd like to show me how you cooked the junk up. You may have discovered a more efficient way to synthesize it for safer use. *Big* maybes, though, I know." "Perhaps..." T'Pol thoughtfully mulled his request over, letting him go on. Trip mistook her silence for her being apprehensive, and he regretted his thoughtless thinking out loud. "Forget I even asked that. Dumb, dumb, dumb," he muttered under his breath, yet he was thoroughly impressed by her ingenuity; she was as inventive as their time here in the Expanse seemed endless, even if her reason for manipulating the sensitive substance was questionable. "Alcohol in moderation is the best policy, all said and done. Of course, I'm no stranger to hittin' the bottle when things get me down. I did it tryin' to cope with Lizzie's death, and you witnessed up close and personal where *that* got me." She tried not to hang her head down, but when she did, Trip lifted her chin with the tip of his index finger. "I'm human, darlin', and you're Vulcan. Where is it written we're always on top of everythin', all the time? Handlin' gut-bustin' problems, failures, you name it, as easy as pie? Nowhere, that's where. It's just not like that no matter who or what ya are." She turned within his strong embrace, wanting to hold on to him forever. "We flub. We hurt ourselves and others in the process, but with a lot of help at the right time..." He squeezed her with, what he assumed may have neared the lofty neighborhood of Vulcan strength, well, almost. T'Pol had whimpered, after all. He was this close to telling her he loved her, but he said instead, "We get better. So, so much better. Just knowin' you cared enough to help me, T'Pol, means everythin' ta me." Trip buried his face into the side of hers. "You mean everythin' ta me. I swear. I don't wanna lose ya."" He'd gotten carried away, he knew, but what did it matter? He was all feelings now, raw, exposed, reveling in emotions, and her. T'Pol felt herself all caught up in them too. "I gave you my word. My usage has ceased, and I don't intend jeopardizing my health further by subjecting myself to the lethal derivative. Suppressing these emotions I sought is impossible for me to do now. I am flawed. They're mine to live with," she said as though passing sentence on a condemned lost soul. "I will never be as I once was." Trip cheered inside, somehow knowing she'd be better than ever. Before T'Pol had time to recover from his declaration, he wrapped his arms around her neck and chest, holding her fast like an anaconda. She had never felt more protected and the shame that had plagued her was losing its tenacious grip. "I did not anticipate this being your reaction." Lowering her voice, she murmured, "It is I who am unworthy of you." Chuckling at the side of her neck where ear met mandible, Trip touted, "And aren't you the one tellin' me often enough how Vulcans don't lie? What do ya call that whopper?" "I call it the truth," T'Pol stubbornly insisted, his candor, his poignancy overwhelming. Trip kissed the lower edge of her temple. "I call it subjectivity, and that's always open for debate, darlin'. That's on good authority, trust me. I was mighty sleepy before, but I'm wide awake now. Let's talk. I've missed our talks. Let's make a night of it." Despite his earnest claim, he yawned widely. "I miss...well...ya know..." T'Pol, slumped against him, wondering why he had never confessed that he'd read something of Surek. She'd have to get him his own copy of the completed work, if he really wanted to know what he was talking about. Were they meant to be together? That portent was shrouded in ambiguity, as far as she was concerned. Graciously, she suggested, "Let's..." "Yeah?" Trip asked, sounding expectant, eyebrows going up and down. "Retire...together." She could see the neuro-pressure working its desired effect; his eyelids drooped. "We'll sleep now. We can talk tomorrow, during off hours." Falling back on her bunk, taking her with him, Trip, with a whoop and a winning smile gamely accepted, "You're on." Then, a shade suggestively, he broached, "Just sleep?" In the meantime, his hand had begun tracking up the smooth silky length of her thigh, applying more pressure as its ascent continued. T'Pol felt his sexual organ plumping against her lower abdomen, demanding her consummate attention. "*Sleep.* Although you say you're sleeping better, you haven't had neuro-pressure for quite a while," she retorted, so all-knowing, and as cool as a cucumber. Yet, not as chilly as in times past. Desire for her steadily increasing, and as forward as he could possibly be, Trip, his crotch cozying up to hers reminded, "I haven't had *you* for a while either. Way too long." They fit together so well, like compatible pieces of a complex puzzle. "For easing sexual tension..." In her heart, it went much further than that, she knew, but she feared pursing an intimate relationship with Trip, the demands it would make. Surrendering to her feelings for him, that were every bit as volatile as Trellium-D, was unwise. It had to be; she was still so at odds with herself over what she truly wanted. What Trip was doing to her at the moment, however, scrambled her mind, as her heart raced. He couldn't believe his ears. How could she have said that? He wasn't a user, not when it came to her. He left off fondling her breasts. "Hell no, dammit--that's not it, and if ya don't know, I'm tellin' ya! You're not a release for me. You're it for me, T'Pol. I'd never hurt ya like that--you've gotta know! Why can't ya trust me, even a little? Am I *that* scary? Didn't ya mean what ya said? I don't get you." He could shred the dizzying flurry of mixed messages she lobbed into itty-bitty pieces. With all the finesse of connecting a lead pipe with someone's head, Trip blurted, "I guess ya didn't mean what ya said. I'm *not* good enough, period. I *was* wrong. You can lie. Ya *don't* trust me, and nothin' I say matters...does it?" That hurt. How could he know what she felt when she didn't know? She couldn't answer right away. Inside herself, in turmoil, T'Pol left no room for compromise of any kind. "Leave, now..." She hadn't meant to say that; it had just jumped out before she could control herself. Her shaky tone warmed his heart, that look of being unnerved, along with her rash words somehow mellowed him. If she wanted his libido put on hold, then that's where he'd put it. "Don't kick me out, T'Pol, when all I wanna do is be sweet to ya." Trip stopped stroking her leg and switched to patting her head instead of her rear end. "Just sleep then. I can do sleep with my eyes closed. Don't make me go. We've been apart too long." He pleaded with supplicative eyes that looked misty. "I'll do whatever ya say; be whatever ya want. No strings attached to whatever it is we aren't. Just gimme a chance. Please, T'Pol..." He tried moving off the bunk, but he got stuck in transition. T'Pol, sprawled over him, didn't move a muscle to let him up. "I'll go down on my knees if ya want me there, beggin'." T'Pol looked as though Trip had just coldcocked her with a single, well-timed right-cross. She continued testing him out, in silence, until, from out of nowhere, he asked her to tell him a tale; his persuasion was guileless. "Any story, any one you know. Your version of a bedtime story," he wheedled. "I liked that narration you gave Cap'n an' me 'bout your great-grandmother, uh? What was her name, again?" "T'Mir..." "Tell me more about T'Mir..." So, T'Pol related a bit more of her adventurous forbear's, groundbreaking, and to Archer and Trip, Archer more so, unusual travels. In no time, Trip was snoring lightly, proving how efficient neuro-pressure always was. Not to be overlooked was his daily routine of trying to hold the infrastructure of the ship together on virtually no sleep, when the need arose. It had the knack of catching up with him, despite what he'd told T'Pol. She astutely judged that he still didn't get enough rest, no matter how much better he claimed he was sleeping. Just before T'Pol had finished recounting the colorful exploits, Trip had gotten in that if she had flown off to somehow negotiate with the "motherless" Xindi, he would have ordered the grappler deployed to drag her, "sorry, stubborn ass back." "All right," she'd told him, having sounded submissive, "you may stay, but this night only." Gently, T'Pol had nested her fingers in the rough-skinned palm of his right hand, knowing which bundles of pressure points to stimulate, and he'd peacefully drifted off into the deepest slumber. Still and all, just before he fully went, between his being half-awake and half-asleep, he'd slurred, "I'm the *only* logical choice for explorin' human sexuality with...pecan pie's a beautiful thang...and so are you..." "You're dreaming, Commander," she'd whispered near his ear, yet thinking she'd meant it when she'd told him he was, "seldom wrong..." Better contented, T'Pol, now a willing prisioner in his arms, listened to the rise and fall of his breathing until, gradually, she too fell fast asleep with an ear over his heart that softly beat. TBC -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Awards Tech Support http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/ No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards 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 May 09 23:51:02 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n32.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.100]) by bunting (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1bn1L53Rw3NZFmR0 for ; Sun, 9 May 2004 20:47:14 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13552-1084160788-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.com eceived: from [66.218.67.195] by n12.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 15 May 2004 03:14:58 -0000 X-Sender: stephen@trekiverse.org X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 26020 invoked from network); 15 May 2004 03:14:56 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.216) by m2.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 15 May 2004 03:14:56 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO turkey.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.126) by mta1.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 15 May 2004 03:14:56 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-039dcwashp0077.dialsprint.net ([207.9.128.77]) by turkey.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1BOpdF-00048W-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Fri, 14 May 2004 20:14:38 -0700 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.126 X-eGroups-From: Stephen From: Stephen X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Fri, 14 May 2004 23:13:54 -0400 Subject: [ASC] WIP ENT Mood Swing 21/? - PG-13 - (T/Tu) Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Yahoo! Domains - Claim yours for only $14.70 http://us.click.yahoo.com/Z1wmxD/DREIAA/yQLSAA/5x3olB/TM ---------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 13 May 2004 21:22:23 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (21/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 21 RATING: PG-13 STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Angst/Humor/Romance SPOILERS: The Council ARCHIVE: Yes, any and all. DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scenes... Mood Swing - Part 21 Of course she was acting strangely, attentive to him one minute, cold to him the next. Hoshi, the perceptive young woman that she was, had put it very succinctly when she thought T'Pol couldn't possibly hear from where she'd been sitting... "Whiplash." T'Pol could hear from one end of the mess hall clear to the other with it filled to capacity if she chose to hone in on a conversation in particular. Of all men from which to choose, she had to have feelings for the most emotional man on two legs. His emotions were running off the scopes, these days, but hers weren't any better. His latest hobby had become hammering her with: "Hey, I'm an emotional guy. What's *your* excuse?" which only goaded her to react emotionally, although any manifestations of his effect on her were meticulously hidden from his flashing eyes. What lovely eyes, T'Pol never stopped herself from thinking every time they nailed hers. These emotions would be her ruler if she didn't get the upper hand, and soon. The question was, did she want to gain that upper hand, when all was said and done? The commander relished telling her what he was so often enough, always giving special emphasis to his being that emotional guy whose mouth was off and running before his brain caught up. But his apologies, and he would spring them on her when she least expected them, were worth his weight in Trellium. It wasn't only his being emotional, it was to the degree he was. It was flinchingly obvious that he could get highly emotional over anything, practically. Starfleet spec-approved Y-L bolts could even be used as an example. If they got the least bit scored due to a tech's forgetfulness that they, unlike other more basic bolts, needed to be tightened counterclockwise, the commander had been known on more than a few occasions to blow like Vesuvius. Certain assistant engineers lived in the 'hall of shame,' all credit going to Tucker, the stickler, who considered any lapse of that nature a major failing. It was hardly as serious as, say, cross-ventilating Anculus manifolds. Now *that* was grounds for a court-martial, chief engineer style. The phrase, 'Wearing one's heart on one's sleeve' had to have been coined for Tucker-types. Movie Night had become his proving ground, when life aboard Enterprise had more normalcy. The way he'd carried on at them, some crew members had gotten into the weekly habit of making bets on how long it would take him to 'lose it.' T'Pol understood that many of the 'big winners' were key players on his staff. These and assorted other incidents had left indelible impressions on T'Pol's memory. These were just the sort of memories that mainlined her emotions. For all that he thought he knew about Vulcans, especially this one whom he was involved with, he still had volumes to learn, and she never missed her chance to tell *him* so. She had grown found of 'educating' him. "An emotional guy," indeed; she'd known that from day one, and, regardless, she'd become hooked--on him--first! The craving need for Trellium-D had reared its ugly head later, only because it had been a means to an end. She wanted these feelings, now, more than ever, had risked everything to tap into them, but controlling them was the clincher. So...T'Pol turned over in her mind for the umpteenth time, what *was* she going to do? He had provoked these strong emotions in her, leaving her feeling 'all over the place,' as she'd heard Travis use the expression, and judged it fit her description as well. The commander could be her outlet, but the thought still filled her with limiting anxiety. Despite the pragmatic advice she'd been given, T'Pol never stopped analyzing what every waking moment had now become...a paradox. That was the only word that adequately summed up what she faced on a routine basis whenever Commander Tucker and she shared the same air space... POV T'Pol - Past and Present... "You okay?" "Just a mild headache..." It wasn't a complete lie; I could feel one coming on. "I thought Vulcans didn't get headaches?" Vulcans aren't supposed to get lots of things, getting emotionally addicted to a human, and in turn to a lethal substance, for starters. I thought fast. "I'm needed in the Command Center..." I'm in need of courage, the kind I used to rely on, and now see I took for granted. And, Commander, I'm in need of unburdening myself, knowing that if I tell you all there is to know, I'll lose you. No one better than I knows that your rejection would be the epitome of logic. My logic, novelly-tempered by these emotions, argued for not wanting to lose him. I vacillated, wanting to confide, but couldn't. I 'turned tail,' as I've heard him use the expression, and fled Sickbay as though being in the same room with him was tantamount to throwing myself into the warp core. I should have told him. I should have when I'd had the chance. "Now, ya know if I weren't needed here, I'd be goin' with you in a heartbeat." I wish there had been a way for him to have come. I couldn't bring myself to tell him I didn't like the idea of leaving him behind. Ridiculous sentiment of which I'm cogently aware, yet it's what I felt, and feeling isn't the bane it once was, although it still unsettles me; it probably always will. As impassively as ever, I replied: "You are needed here, Commander. Mister Reed's mission is in capable hands. He is running it in conjunction with one of the MACOs." "Yeah, Corporal Hawkins. Malcolm gave me the complete rundown while I pumped him dry. I'd still feel a whole lot better if I were comin' along...too...to uh, well, to personally watch your back, Sub-comman--ah, hell--T'Pol! I'd breathe much easier." He'd been impossible, as always...and his impossibility had gathered steam without his batting an eye. I could do nothing but stare at him as though deprived of the power of speech. "I've lost so much already. If I lose you too, T'Pol, I'll go stark ravin' crazy--sure as I'm standin' here not wantin' to let you go." The same woebegone look his eyes had clung to before we worked with the Xindi portable power cells afflicted them again. The venerated, and, yes, cherished Vulcan axiom was on the tip of my tongue. I restrained myself from speaking it, having already anticipated he would not appreciate its implications. I could utter it for anyone else, but not for Trip. He needed something more real for him to hold on to, something he could equate with my heartfelt concern. I owed it to him after what we'd shared... I'd taken several deep breaths to center myself. I had not wanted him to hug me, but naturally, he did. While he imprisoned me in his desperate embrace, with my lips barely moving, I instructed: "Focus on me, Charles, despite the many demands constantly made of you, though blocking nothing out. I've taught you how. Focus, and we'll be together...we will." He shed some tears, and I had nearly shed some of my own. And then I had to go; duty called. His parting words turned me around... "You be careful, now, ya hear!" Once again, in such a short period of time, Enterprise is battling for its life against the greatest of odds. It doesn't bode well. The battle is moments into being waged when my 't'hyl'a's and my thoughts intertwine. We focus on each other through a bond that cannot be rightly thought of as such; it is more like an echoing whorl shared between two minds yearning to meld, two souls trying to connect through the void of space. Our linkage is premature, twitchy, yet the etching of it is there. There is no mistaking its existence, and breathing deeply again, I cling to it. I cling to my 't'hyl'a' like never before. He is truly remarkable. Amidst all the fear, upheaval and tension, he is purposeful, his mind the sharpest and clearest I've ever known it to be. Now he comprehends how I wanted to disclose to him, without fear, no holding back. We sense through our link that we may never see each other again. His sadness stabs at me, and cradling it, I soothe his mind. It is then I stream to my beloved Charles...*The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few...* He tells me how much he loves me. I tell him I have come to understand, and a surge of emotions rips through me. Passionately, I insist my feelings for him will never die... Stubborn...we both are, which perhaps explains it all. If I were with him he would swear he saw me smile, but then I'd have to remind him that Vulcans don't smile, and he'd say, "The hell they don't!" *Never die,* I reiterate, and the power behind those impassioned words empowers me. Intractably, he insists, *Never, darlin', NEVER!* *We have information you can use--it might--* *Can ya transmit?* *Yes!* *We need all the help we can get right now...send it through!* Trip doesn't need to tell me twice. TBC -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Awards Tech Support http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/ No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards 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 ???@??? Fri May 14 23:20:44 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n28.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.84]) by tanager (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1boPH84SD3NZFmQ0 for ; Fri, 14 May 2004 20:18:38 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13570-1084590892-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.com Received: from [66.218.66.29] by n3.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 25 May 2004 02:04:11 -0000 X-Sender: stephen@trekiverse.org X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 27264 invoked from network); 25 May 2004 02:04:09 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.167) by m23.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 25 May 2004 02:04:09 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO swan.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.123) by mta6.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 25 May 2004 02:04:09 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-014dcwashp0113.dialsprint.net ([63.188.136.113]) by swan.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1BSRI6-0002HC-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Mon, 24 May 2004 19:03:43 -0700 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.123 X-eGroups-From: Stephen From: Stephen X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Mon, 24 May 2004 22:02:54 -0400 Subject: [ASC] ENT: WIP - Mood Swing - (22/?) (PG-13) T/Tu Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ELNK-AV: 0 Make a clean sweep of pop-up ads. Yahoo! Companion Toolbar. Now with Pop-Up Blocker. Get it for free! http://us.click.yahoo.com/L5YrjA/eSIIAA/yQLSAA/5x3olB/TM ---------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 21 May 2004 22:53:30 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (22/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: Enterprise PART: 22 RATING: PG-13 STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Angst/Humor/Romance SPOILERS: Countdown ARCHIVE: Yes, all archives are fine, no permission necessary. DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scene Mood Swing - Part 22 "How's the readin' so far? I figured it'd be somethin' you could sink your teeth into." Trip looked up from his, a text on advanced quantum mechanics relative to problematic space. It, along with the six other volumes making up the set, had been a gift from one of his mentors, a Dr. Samuel Gelles, a professor emeritus, who had predicted he would, "Go far, one day." Never in the learned physicist's many years of mentoring quick, young minds could he have foreseen just how far his brightest pupil would go, one of the key persons on a do-or-die mission to save the planet. So often life was far stranger than fiction. T'Pol's selection, Volume II of the series he recommended she peruse, was worthy of her attention, but her mind wasn't in it. Any other time, certainly, and although this was a crucial time when supplemental information could do nothing but help, a little voice urging from within advocated she stop pushing herself. She needed to meditate. Having forgone it for so long, it dawned on her that taking it up at this point might not be as simple as just starting in again. She lay the thick book aside, and her vision remained with it. It was only when Trip spoke to her that she realized she was sighing. "Tired?" "Somewhat." Another sigh nearly escaped her. "You look it." She looked up then. "So do you." Trip jammed the pad of his index finger into the sloping nook near his right eye and pressed. Eyestrain, he thought, and blocked his yawn with the side of his hand. "Well, we have been burnin' the midnight oil over the long haul ever since Cap'n left. Least we got somethin' concrete to show for it when we rendezvous. Puttin' the finishin' touches on all our hard work little over an hour ago felt good. What you pulled out of forty-one was a windfall." "Your idea of intermittent transference of polarity increasing the discharge's yield significantly has viable merit." "-*Our*- idea, remember?" "Perhaps calling it a blending of innovation is more suitable." "Tomato, tomotto, an idea that works ninety-nine point nine percent of the time within the parameters of modular controls, with negligible variances, is an idea worth runnin' with in my book." T'Pol nodded, feeling satisfied with their hard-won accomplishments. Yet despite the promising achievement, she felt more than a little off-balance emotionally. She'd gone to see Phlox before getting herself something to eat. His suggestion had been for her to get back to meditation. She longed to meditate, but wondered if she were capable of concentrating, imaging and projecting to the degree necessary to do her the good it used to. "So were ya serious?" She'd closed her eyes! How had that happened? In the interim, Trip had positioned himself closer so he was sitting alongside her on the cushion-littered floor of her quarters whose illumination was not owed to candles, for once. -She's got to be real tired- Trip thought -if she just nodded off like that- "Maybe I should go. Give ya a chance to get some well-deserved rest." "No!" T'Pol turned to face him sharply. "Don't go." -Not what I expected...just when I think I've got better clues, she changes up on me- Trip relaxed his stance, taking his time before responding. "I'm only thinkin' of you, T'Pol. You're all done--" "Was I serious about what?" "In..." Trip considered the dark shadows under her eyes, along with the inquiry in them. "Joinin' up with us? Starfleet's finest. Makin' it official..." "As I said, I'm considering it." How hard would it be to ask him to meditate with her? His presence was soothing, and if he acceded to join her, she had the feeling the meditation would proceed more smoothly. But, asking him, that was the challenge. Meditation wasn't neuro-pressure; the two were as different as Vulcan and Earth. The mentality for the discipline required rigorous discipline, and single-minded concentration. The commander had his moments with both, brief ones at best. "Can you think of any way I could sway ya to make your plans more definite?" "I decided to allow you to buy me a drink." "I mean anythin' I could do right now." His effortless chuckling entangled her in his amusement. "Anythin' at all." His eyes twinkled like the stars beyond the confines of her austere place. "Meditate with me." "Meditate?" he echoed. "What's that like?" Her explanation was methodical, leaving nothing left for conjecture. She hadn't exaggerated about her ability to read him. By the transparent look on his face she knew meditation held small appeal for him. The disappointment she felt never made it to her face. "It helps me renew in order to gain stronger control over my emotions. I've neglected my practice for many weeks." "I like ya better when you're a little out of control..." His wink was harmless enough, or so he thought. "A little less sure of yourself looks good on ya." "Less sure of myself?" T'Pol nearly parroted, having said it with a distinct air of mystification. "That's when I get to see who you really are lots better, and I like seein' ya when the deck beneath your feet's quicksand." Nearly mumbling, he told her, "It's sexy." She wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't exactly mocking her, she decided, but what -was- he doing? "I'm not baitin' ya, T'Pol. I'm hopin' for your openin' up. That's what I'd like, but I'm not gonna push. I was sorta hopin' you'd want to, seein' how we're on a first name basis and I know you have a mole shaped like a butterfly on your left hip." He touched the spot, pleased she didn't recoil. She was practically sitting in his lap, although unaware. "Trip..." Calling him that wasn't the absurdity she once thought it was, and its use had him eating out of her hand. His eyes came alive with responsive delight. "T'Pol?" Hesitating, without him any the wiser, she said, "Thank you..." Then she did hesitate, no masking in evidence. The power of the words holding sway, knowing that once she spoke them, the stage would be set. "For being my friend." His hand flattened itself against the silken smoothness of her belly; silk was her fabric without a doubt. Adoringly, he said, "Ya don't haveta thank me for -that,- either. The feelin' couldn't be more mutual. I hope we'll be friends for a very long time, providin' we live through the next couple of hours." "Your ability to un...settle me is innate," she uttered barely above a hushed whisper. Dealing with her feelings while being with him was an impossibility. It was as though she was merely along for the topsy-turvy ride. He stirred them, got them roiling with just the hint of his smile. "If I told ya you have the same effect on me, would you accuse me of gettin' emotional hopin' to pave the way for a relationship?" Trip angled. Flush with boyish charm, he divulged, "I like what you do to me too. I can't tell ya how many times you've made my day when ya pout and ya think nobody's watchin', but I've been..." Her slab of a belly twitched beneath his hand which reactivated his smile a thousand watts. "You've been the highlight of this mission since it began, and the topper bein' when you cemented those perfect lips of yours with mine." His cheeks burned as he recalled how she'd ignited both their passions. T'Pol gingerly fingered his left cheek which was closest, marveling over the increased warmth of his skin. With a wealth of feeling, she said, "You challenge my emotions, enliven them. Fascinate me." "You challenge me and my preconceptions." He lifted his hand to join his fingers with hers, then pressed the palm of T'Pol's hand to his cheek. "I wouldn't have missed knowin' ya for the world, any world you could name." Her hand trembled against his face. "You favor a romantic relationship between us?" Trip's forehead wrinkled. "Is that what's been eatin' ya alive? Whether or not we should get serious? My bein' a sexual experiment, nothin' more, notwithstandin'?" She couldn't answer because she had no idea what she wanted. Treating him as though what had been her idea was all his fault wasn't fair, she had no recourse but to admit. Trip deserved better than having cold water thrown in his face every time he tried reaching out. He was an honest man; he deserved honesty, hers, most of all. Where they stood in relation to each other perhaps boiled down to something she'd heard him say once: when push came to shove, push seemed ready, willing and able to shove, and shove hard. "'Cause if that's what's makin' ya feel like you're comin' apart at the seams, don't, T'Pol, please. What we've got works fine. No pressure. If there's one thing I've learned from failed relationships, it's what I told ya that night you melted me down...I'm easy. I've learned the hard way. I won't make anythin' tough for ya. If ya don't want anythin' to change between us, then that's how it'll be. I respect--aw, hell--I like ya too much to be a real pain in your ass, T'Pol. One thing's for sure, though...I'm flattered you wanted to experiment with me. I'll never forget how wonderful you are no matter how long I live." He was also someone she would be wrong not to trust. "I'd like ta be one of the best friends you ever have, T'Pol, attachin' no strings." As even she herself had taken into consideration, everyone had weathered some stressful times that might have broken a lesser crew. The extreme situations had taken its toll on everyone, as he had brought up. Her varied mood swings were understandable under the circumstances, despite her being so gallingly Vulcan. It wasn't hard to figure out why he'd shot down the gamut of ideas she'd contributed. Her prissy, keep your distance, piker, attitude had bugged him to no end. So much so that he'd had to say something, finally; enough was enough. Her treating him like crap had to stop. Had they shared intimacy, or had she roped and hog-tied him to her weird version of hand-to-hand combat when she'd finally admitted doing a great imitation of being jealous? He was glad he had spoken up; it had forced an apology out of her. Why, she'd even used 'Trip' to stop him cold from storming out on her in the midst of their project. "I know I said we could talk about it after this is all over, but what if we don't make it?" His eyebrows knitted together. "We could fail, ya know... Earth's inhabitants, and all of us could wind up dead." "We -will- succeed. The captain expects nothing less," T'Pol reminded him, while admiring his ability to accept the opposite outcome at the same time, seemingly coming to grips with the unacceptable. Telling him about her abuse of Trellium-D weighed heavy on her mind. Why did it bother her that she hadn't told him already? She still couldn't. "I sure hope so; dyin' would get in the way of so much. But just supposin' we don't make it. It'd be nice to know I'd gained your confidence enough so you could confide in me." He settled her more securely on his lap. "How 'bout bein' friends with benefits? See where it takes us?" "Friends with benefits? I don't--" "It means whenever we need each other, we'll be here for each other. You need me, I'm there; I need you..." "Your assistance would be invaluable to me, Trip." Giddy hearing her use his nickname so freely, he gushed, "I feel the same 'bout yours 'cause we care for each other and want to help any way we can." Not to alarm her, he delicately pecked the tip of her right ear. The urge to cuddle with her growing stronger. "Meditation, huh?" "You'll engage in it with me?" This time there was a distinctive, hopeful lilt in her tone. "Tell ya what...before we get into that, I have another idea. I'll bet the homestead you've never had one before." The swift slant of her eyebrow behooved him to end her suspicions. "A good ol' down home back rub, gal. You're tighter than a snare drum. Clothes aren't optional, which is the big difference compared with neuro-pressure. My momma raised us modest." "What does it entail?" "Touchin' a whole lot of touchin' to coax the kinks outta your stiff muscles." Touching...she liked it when he touched her, made her even more emotional...his touch was irritant and balm. "It'll make ya feel like a new woman, not that there's anythin' wrong with the beautiful one who knows what makes those damn spheres tick, through an' through. I figure, the better you feel, the better you keep me in line." Plinking his left earlobe with the nail of her forefinger, T'Pol, much to Trip's utter bemusement, timidly approached something akin to bantering by replying, "Agreed. The captain's depending on me, knowing the complexity of the task." "Yep, his shameless enablers, that's us all right..." Not giving it any thought, T'Pol filled his arms as though they had been made only for her. His right hand, being free, tenderly rubbed her back, up and down. The rich feel of the silk she wore to perfection, with each loving stroke, satisfied his desire of wanting to smooth out whatever remained that might be rough patches between them. Gradually, the tension in her back eased as T'Pol allowed herself to relax in Trip's blandishing embrace. The thought in her mind that predominated while it comforted was of her being home. His generous warmth enveloped her like the heat of the rolling plains typical of the Sarviikan hinterlands, one of her favorite haunts to meditate. She closed her eyes and saw those sprawling lands down to the minutest detail, and T'Pol smiled ever so faintly against Trip's broad shoulder. TBC -- 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 ???@??? Mon May 24 22:07:04 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n49.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.67.37]) by quail.mail.pas.earthlink.net (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1bsriB33r3NZFkZ0 for ; Mon, 24 May 2004 19:04:13 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13607-1085450653-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.com Received: from [66.218.66.29] by n43.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 31 May 2004 01:57:02 -0000 X-Sender: stephen@trekiverse.org X-Apparently-To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 10296 invoked from network); 31 May 2004 01:57:00 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.218) by m23.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 31 May 2004 01:57:00 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO goose.mail.pas.earthlink.net) (207.217.120.18) by mta3.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 31 May 2004 01:57:00 -0000 Received: from sdn-ap-018dcwashp0119.dialsprint.net ([63.188.176.119]) by goose.mail.pas.earthlink.net with smtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1BUc2m-0002IJ-00 for ascl@yahoogroups.com; Sun, 30 May 2004 18:56:53 -0700 To: ascl@yahoogroups.com Organization: Alt.StarTrek.Creative Virtual Staff Office Message-ID: <344lb0lcgig98ndknds2e2lktskhtudada@4ax.com> X-Mailer: Forte Agent 1.92/32.572 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.217.120.18 X-eGroups-From: Stephen From: Stephen X-Yahoo-Profile: oldmanasc MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCL@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCL@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Sun, 30 May 2004 21:55:54 -0400 Subject: [ASC] WIP ENT Mood Swing - PG -13, (T/Tu), Part 23 Reply-To: ASCL-owner@yahoogroups.com Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ELNK-AV: 0 Make a clean sweep of pop-up ads. Yahoo! Companion Toolbar. Now with Pop-Up Blocker. Get it for free! http://us.click.yahoo.com/L5YrjA/eSIIAA/yQLSAA/5x3olB/TM --------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 29 May 2004 05:52:48 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: susieqla@yahoo.com (Sue) TITLE: Mood Swing - (23/?) AUTHOR: Sue E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com SERIES: ENT PART: 23 RATING: PG-13 STATUS: WIP CODES: T/Tu CATEGORY: Angst/Humor/Romance SPOILERS: Zero Hour ARCHIVE: Yes, all archives are fine, no permission necessary. DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made. SUMMARY: Missing scene Mood Swing - Part 23 His heart thrummed, and still unable to turn away, Trip stood his ground. His hand shook nearly uncontrollably. It was as though he were falling down a very deep hole, no bottom in sight. There were no monsters, no tangible ones, at any rate, and yet, there very well could have been. It had all come down to this... No word from their captain, and the majority of the crew wore the telltale eruptions of dermis, symptomatic of exposure to the form of pernicious contamination they'd been exposed to. He ordered that his hand stop shaking, both hands still bore the cracks that parched ground in the Mojave Desert was certainly no stranger to, and after what passed for a flash of time, it did. All the while, he kept his gaze riveted on T'Pol. She reminded him to be patient; like throwing oil on disturbed water, her advice floated until he paused to absorb the soothing effect of her presence. With her hand gripped on his shoulder, she calmly reined him in before his letting impulsivity command the driver's seat. She was magnificent when she was like this...frank and open as all get-out. What he hastily concluded as most likely being the end for them, might just be the beginning he yearned for. Staring him in the face, there she was...caring about how he felt, her sensing his helplessness that refused to let up. If he hadn't known any better he might've sworn she had feelings for him. Maybe...just possibly he'd transcended her designation of 'experiment.' Increasingly, he found it impossible to think otherwise. It was disturbing that her skin wasn't healing as quickly as his. Was something hindering her skin's regeneration? Or maybe human skin just healed quicker. Telling her it was possible Vulcans weren't as tough after all was said in jest, but her voice was charged with emotion when she said Phlox told her everybody should be back to normal in two to three days. Where that crack about her looking like an old oil painting came from, he'd never know. One thing was gospel, though she did look nice, even with her skin looking like a 'gator's worse nightmare, Trip thought. Their gazes held, without flinching. T'Pol wilted, something akin to melting into him, able to accept the comfort of his touch, his hands...his lips, if he decided to kiss her at that moment. Would he? From somewhere, she remembered having heard it said that a gentleman never asked a lady her age. If standing on technicality mattered, he hadn't asked, she'd told. No, she -wasn't- old, and she had to set him straight on that. Sixty-six her next birthday...why she'd hardly begun to live...sixty-six, -old- indeed. But that wasn't what he'd meant. Even more importantly though, was why she felt it imperative that he know, now. Trip's lips quirked, but a smile never quite happened. "Intimate? Hmm..." Then he winced. ::"Bridge to T'Pol":: There never seemed to be an end to this bad timing--interrupted again by that damn comm! Okay, granted, they were smack-dab in the middle of a crisis situation laced with cryptic overtones, but still. He felt what he had to say building inside of him, had been over the course of these turbulent weeks. T'Pol looked as if she'd been on the verge of confessing all sorts of personal things about herself. Well, if benevolence, which had been partly responsible for maximum firepower that had granted them success, kept favoring them, there'd be time enough for opening up on all levels. There was something he'd been meaning to tell her for the longest. "Go ahead." ::"A vortex just opened. It's Degra's ship":: 'And I -did not- call her old,' Trip reiterated while he mused, watching her attend to the comm with the undivided attention she reserved for 'official business.' 'Old? For a Vulcan she's a pretty young thing. Very pretty, and very young when it comes to the thing we've started, well she, actually, but I didn't stop her. I'm her first, and there's no going back from that now. I don't wanna go back, I'd like it to be forward for us, all the way.' Once the comm fell silent, a pin drop could have been heard. Trip exchanged a preemptive nod with T'Pol and they moved off in tandem. She, with all the authority peculiar to being first in command, and with a good measure of hope as well, said, "Degra's ship..." "Can't wait to swap good news with the cap'n..." The bad news about Archer was too much to bear. "It's just a matter of time..." That's what Dr. Phlox had said it would take for Porthos to get over his loss, but when she'd repeated the phrase to the dog, even astounding herself by touching its head, T'Pol hadn't only been consoling the pet. The effort had been made to assure herself that her acute feeling of loss concerning Archer wouldn't be so painful, as it felt now. She knew what it meant to be grief-stricken, her liberated emotions made sure of that. Grief had to lessen, over time, all these raw, negative feelings just had to, or she'd be no good to anyone. One thing was certain, her empathy for Trip had profounder depth. She was experiencing firsthand how he'd felt over the death of his sister. The mental anguish was stultifying, as crippling as an acutal physical impairment could be. Death was the truest of any enemy imaginable. Jonathan had been her friend too. Archer's friendship had differed from Trip's, and T'Pol was at a loss to exactly understand why. Perhaps, with the passage of time, she'd reason the quandries out for herself. But, in the meantime, in the here and the now, whatever this here and now purported to be, she was in commmand. The crew was counting on her to get them through this, their current, most mind-boggling, perception-altering dilemma, to date. Starfleet non existent? How was that possible? How did they wind up in Earth's 20th century? What accounted for it? Was it the 20th century of documented, recorded history, or some parallel alternative? What was it going to take to transport them back to the correct time continuum? When she racked her brain over these things, her head would start to hurt. Everything depended on her having the right answers. How glad she was, how reassuring it was to know that relying on Trip wasn't an exercise in futility. With each day that never failed to be more problematic than the one previous, he proved to her time and again that having him as her friend was something she'd never regret. "The database contained limited information on the aircraft you encountered over San Francisco's airspace," T'Pol said as she set the mug of steaming herbal tea, 'Morning Thunder," before Trip. It was five past 0600. The mess hall was all but empty, save for them and a few other early risers. Two ensigns were already heading out. "I'd know those planes anywhere," Trip adamantly declared, thanking her for getting him the tea, and half wondering if he was going to like it. His trying it was -her- idea. She was of the opinion that he was consuming much too much coffee, and the over consumption of caffeine seemed to pave the way for insomnia for him. "I built models when I was a kid. P-fifty-one Mustangs, circa nineteen forty-four. Their bubble canopies really made 'em stand out. Gave 'em distinction." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat. "No mistakin' 'em for what strafed Travis an' me that first time, and every attempt we've made to visit the surface." He stared into the contents of the mug, liking the way the slip of steam rose, curling as it did. "It's weird scans can't pinpoint a point of origin." "I'd like you and Mister Mayweather to visit the surface again." T'Pol finished raising her cup to her mouth, blew into it before taking a sip. "Yeah, we can do that, provided we make the trip after nightfall. For, or no fog, Travis pilots on instinct as much as relying on sensors. I think he'd have no problem gettin' us in under cover of darkness, without runnin' the risk of bein' shot at like all the times we've tried in broad daylight." "I agree." "It's worth a try, nosin' around where Starfleet's supposed to be, but where those planes have routinely picked us up before we can get close enough. On our last attempt to land, we could almost make out the city's skyline. The buildin's are modern, not architectural design of the forties. The planes' insignias don't jive with U.S. aircraft for the period." Trip steepled his fingers, picking at a frayed cuticle before doing so. "It'd probably be a good idea if a MACO came along." T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Any MACO in particular?" "First Lieutenant Magnuson. He specializes in reconnaissance, accordin' to Malcolm." Her voice warbling, T'Pol replied, "Oh?" "What?" "Nothing." "Who'd ya think I was gonna say?" Trip asked, having a good suspicion who. Reading her was getting to be as easy as pie: pecan, apple, pumpkin...any old pie would do as long as it tasted great. T'Pol shifted imperceptively in her seat, as though she were in a hot one. "I don't know what you seem to be imply--" "You thought I was gonna say Amanda, didn't ya?" Trip said confirmatorily, watching her with an amused look on his face. "She never entered my mind..." Trip relaxed his jaw. "You're sure 'bout that?" "Positive." "'Cause, ya know, if she had...she would've been squattin', bein' somewhere she doesn't belong." Trip reached across the table with both hands to secure T'Pol's within their clasp. "You've spoiled me for anybody else. And why in the world are ya sittin' way over there?" He tugged on her hands. Come join me on my side of the table." He waited, wondering if she could handle such an obvious invitation. He didn't have long to wait. Once she was sitting next to him, T'Pol wrapped her arms around Trip's neck while he gently began nibbling away on the bottom of her earlobe. "I missed ya last night, missed the cuddlin' before fallin' asleep." T'Pol held on, and when he informed her that he, "Liked his lovin' sweet," she, in turn, asked if he considered her to be such. His swift reply was heartfelt, ardent and to the point: "Darlin', compared to you, pecan pie's sugar free." It wasn't an official PDA. (Trip hated seeing couples get carried away in public. T'Pol had no idea what a PDA even was.) They had the mess hall all to themselves and they made the most of it. TBC...and come the start of Season 4, we're off and running again! Happy hiatus, everybody! -- 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 May 30 22:05:12 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n50.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.67.38]) by tanager (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1buC8q50a3NZFmQ3 for ; Sun, 30 May 2004 19:02:42 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13643-1085968933-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.com