Scifiland Big Bang - Enterprise Fic (NC-17)
Disclaimer: Star Trek is own by the Gene Roddenberry estate, Paramount, and all the other grand high mucky mucks. No copyright infringement is intended and this story is merely meant for entertainment purposes. Any similarity to any story not my own (and I'm certain there are similarities to other stories I have written) are coincidence.
"Down in the Valley" is a traditional folk song. There are multiple versions of the lyrics, I just used one version that suited the story.
All songs and images belong to their respective owners.
Title: Throw Your Arms 'Round Me, Feel My Heart Break
Genre: For scifiland challenge
Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise; Trip/T'pol
Theme: 'Ship on board Ship
Rating: NC-17; rated for sexual content
Timeline/Spoilers: This is meant to take place after "Harbinger" and just as T'pol is starting to recover from her trellium-D addiction.
Word Count: 6881
Author's Notes: So, for note, I have only watched Enterprise through Similitude in season three, this story is actually based on spoilers more than direct "knowledge." In addition, this is my first Star Trek story ever, so I have tried hard to capture their voices, but...
Throw Your Arms 'Round Me
Feel My Heart Break
~The heart has reasons which reason knows nothing of~
Blaise Pascal
I settled naturally into a meditation asana before my low table and quietly contemplated the small computer setting upon the gleaming surface like a bright shadow. Unexpectedly, I found myself staring it down almost as if it were an adversary. In my hands, I flipped an awkwardly shaped isolinear chip over and over; stalling.
“Enough,” I chastised myself.
I rose from my asana just enough to lean forward and slide the small chip into the computer before setting the simple program to play. I sat back down expectantly, waiting for the almost antiquated program to begin, which it did after several minutes of strange, pale static.
“Welcome to lesson one of ‘So You Want to Learn to Play the Guitar,” a bland, innocuous humanoid voice greeted me from the computer speakers.
“Not precisely,” I murmured under my breath, but Doctor Phlox had given me the isolinear chip with the insistence that the program contained on it would assist me in my need to find something to help me regain my emotional balance and focus. The lingering effects of my trellium-D addiction were far too dangerous to leave unchecked, and traditional mediation did not appear to be quite enough. The doctor had declared that I simply needed an alternative method to focus my meditations, hence the lesson program.
“That’s right!” The bland voice encouraged, and I realized that I had missed everything leading up to the statement. With a quiet ache of frustration distressingly close to the surface, I sighed and rose to my knees again to set the program back to the beginning.
“Welcome to lesson one of ‘So You Want to Learn to Play the Guitar…”
I closed my eyes and let the bland voice wash over me for a moment. That moment lead to another, and another, until I suddenly realized that the lesson had somehow gotten away from me once more.
“Now, are we ready to try our first note?”
This time, I repressed my sigh and simply restarted the program yet again before reaching for the guitar that Doctor Phlox had also somehow procured and given to me.
It was almost surprisingly beautiful to the touch, the rich dark wood and ornate cerulean etched ivory inlay of its construction smooth and cool beneath my fingertips. I was distracted enough that it took time for me to find the just the right placement for it in my lap and in my hands. By the time I had figured out how to hold the unfamiliar human instrument, the program had droned its way blithely along to ...
“And now, how did we do on our first scale progression? Excellent. Next, let’s try…”
Suddenly, my door chime interrupted me and I was startled enough to almost drop the instrument from my grasp. I recovered quickly and managed to set it down carefully instead.
“Come,” I called, and the door opened to reveal Enterprise's chief engineer dressed in casual civilian clothing meant for comfort and sleeping.
“Commander Tucker? It is late,” I greeted him.
He gave me a curious look.
“We did agree... all experiments aside, that there was no reason to stop our neuropressure treatments...” he reminded me with an odd note in his voice that I could not quite interpret.
I made a small sound of acknowledgment, remembering a conversation to that effect.
“Of course; come in,” I replied as calmly as I could, watching as the Commander stepped completely into my quarters, the door sliding closed behind him.
He eyed the guitar resting near my leg and then tilted his head with an air of curiosity as the computer continued to detail its lesson with bland cheerfulness.
“Are you trying to learn how to play the guitar from a computer program?” The engineer asked incredulously.
I quickly leaned forward to press stop on the program.
“Yes,” I replied simply.
“Well okay...” Charles drawled when I did not elaborate further. “Why?” He asked with one curiously raised brow.
For a moment, I considered not saying anything, but then I met Trip's open gaze and found myself quietly explaining. When I had finished, the engineer gave me a curious look, his dark blue eyes patient as he offered his opinion as if it were an absolute statement of fact.
“Well, that sounds logical enough I suppose, but you can’t learn to play the guitar from a computer program.”
“I fail to see why not,” I countered, settling my clasped hands in my lap and looking down at them as I tried to keep emotion from my voice.
“It's not like some math equation, T'pol. You can't just learn it from a book or a chip... it's... there's an art to it, and that, you can't learn from some computer.”
“It's precisely like a math equation,” I argued. “Even your own people acknowledge the link between music and logical thought.”
“Well yeah... but even Vulcans say that some science lessons are best taught by an experienced mentor,” Charles countered.
“Be that as it may...” I replied as I resisted the irrational urge to shrug.
“You should have Phlox teach you,” the engineer suggested.
“He is not familiar with how to play the instrument, that is the reason he provided me with the program,” I replied. “And before you suggest it, no, I do not know anyone else on board who plays.”
“I do,” Trip offered after a moment of almost heavy silence.
“What?”
I turned my gaze back up to the Engineer.
“I know how to play the guitar,” he repeated quietly. “I could teach you if you like.”
The last was said even more quietly than the first statement, almost hesitantly.
“I was unaware you played.”
“I taught Elizabeth how to play. I haven’t played since… not since she… I mean, I don’t play anymore… but I remember how, and I could teach you,” Trip explained, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words as he spoke softly.
At the mention of his sister's name, I watched his face carefully, seeing the sharp flicker of pain that saying it invoked. It called to something inside of me that I found difficult to deny. More surprisingly, I was startled to realize that there was a very real part of me that did not want to deny it; a part of me that wanted to reach out to comfort the man before me.
I felt the quick, fierce stab of emotion, and struggled to suppress it. It was more difficult than it should have been, but eventually, I wrestled some sort of thin control over my feelings and gave Trip a small nod that he took for the simple agreement that I meant it to be.
“Okay...” Charles replied in an oddly quiet tone, perhaps surprised by my acceptance of his offer. “Okay...”
He slipped out of his shoes quickly and joined me on the floor, settling himself close enough that I could feel his heat warm my own skin. He began his lesson and I tried to ignore his nearness, focusing instead on playing as he directed.
“No, T'pol it’s just the first finger down, try to keep the other fingers up.”
I tried to place my finger down properly.
“Down lower,” Trip directed. “Lower... right there.”
I struggled to place my fingers just right before plucking almost violently at the strings with my other hand.
“You’re meant to strum it,” he corrected.
I couldn’t help but glare at him, my frustration suddenly starting to fray both my patience and my nerves. With fingers forced stiff with suppressed emotion, I tried to brush my fingertips over the strings to produce a more pleasant sound. A string broke, snapping out and up.
“K'plath,” I swore.
“Let me see,” Trip offered.
“There is no need,” I replied with as much dignity as I could. “I am not truly injured.”
“Well here, at least let me re-string the guitar for you. Did Phlox give you any extra strings?”
I pointed mutely over to a plastic storage case on my bed, the same one that I had pulled the isolinear chip from earlier. Trip took the guitar from me, and while I surreptitiously nursed my smarting fingers, he deftly restrung the instrument and padded back in my direction.
Then, for a moment, he simply stood over me, giving me an odd, considering sort of look. But before I could inquire as to what it was about, he sighed and spoke.
“Let’s try this another way.”
I tensed as he padded around me and settled himself down behind my back. I was still tense as I felt him inch closer.
“It’ll be easier if I show you how to do it, instead of trying to just explain it,” Trip said quietly. “It’s okay,” he added, saying it to reassure himself as much as me I thought. “I’ll just show you quickly and it won’t be as frustrating as doing it the other way. And yeah... I know,” he drawled. “What I'm seeing isn't really frustration,” he said with a small smile in his voice. “Vulcans don't experience frustration.”
Trip scooted even closer and I stiffened when he set each of his navy blue cotton clad legs to either side of my body. I was so focused on the sight of his legs around me that I almost jumped when he lifted his arms up and over my head to set the guitar in my lap. I felt the engineer tense in response and forced myself to relax. It was now the closest we had been in weeks, both physically and emotionally.
I took a deep breath.
“What do I do first?” I made myself ask in a normal voice, quietly pleased at being able to do so.
I felt Trip relax a little himself before reaching around to take my hands in his. For a moment, I went stiff again and felt the human's conflicting instincts roused by my response. Surprisingly sensitive to it, I made myself go loose in his grasp and slowed my pulse down with a couple of deep breaths.
“Commander Tucker?”
“Your fingers need to go here and be like this,” he instructed, placing my hands where he wanted them. “That’s an E.”
“E,” I echoed.
“And this is an A,” he said then, repeating the process of placing my hands. “D…”
He continued through each note until we had done the scale three times.
“Every Apple Does Go Bad Eventually,” Charles chanted as we completed the last progression.
“I don't understand,” I forced myself to admit.
“It’s a mnemonic device to remember the notes,” the engineer explained simply.
“I am unfamiliar with it,” I replied.
“Not surprised, if all you Vulcans learn art and music from machines.”
“We do not.”
I felt Trip waiting for me to share something of a more personal nature and when I offered nothing further, he sighed. I tried to not notice how warm his breath was against my neck. Just as I tried equally hard to ignore the feeling of his heartbeat against my back as he pressed closer to get a better hold of my hands.
“Now, you need to learn the Major and Minor chords too,” he explained, moving my hands as he spoke. “They give the music a soul… emotion… heart...”
“I can not see why that would be necessary, or even how it would be possible,” I countered, still trying to keep myself focused on other things besides the heat of him pressed against my back, or the warmth of his breath stirring the short strands of my hair.
“It just is...” he murmured.
“I fail to understand how that is an answer,” I replied quietly.
“I think maybe you understand a bit more than you let on...” Trip countered as he shifted against me. And I think... T'pol…”
The engineer's tone made me realize just how unintentionally intimate our embrace had become.
“T'pol, I think we should…”
Briefly, logical thought tried to reassert itself in my mind, but I felt my control slipping. Impulsively I titled my head, offering him the curve of my neck.
“T'pol...” he murmured before his lips fell to my skin, just shy of my ear, and for a moment, it didn't matter that my acceptance of his caress meant that I had given into my emotions. For a moment, I did not struggle to find a more logical attitude. Then suddenly, almost violently, Trip pulled his head up.
“No,” he said almost harshly.
“Trip…”
“No... I can't just be an experiment to you, T'pol,” he declared in a heated tone.
He tried to take his hands away from mine and pull back from me, but I gripped him as tightly as I dared, letting the guitar fall. It hit the floor at an odd angle and I could hear the neck crack from the stress, but I held onto Charles.
It wasn’t a logical gesture, but I did it because I needed him to hear what I had to say. “I know that,” I returned with as much understanding as I could. “I do know that, and this isn't about exploring human sexuality,” I assured him.
“Then what is it about?” Trip demanded, his voice tinged with an edge of passion that I had to admit excited me as much as it scared me.
I took a deep breath and proceeded, ignoring the way my heart seemed to stutter in apprehension. There was a very real danger of losing myself in my emotions; in being unable to achieve the necessary balance if I chose to pursue this course of action. The rush of emotion and sensation that these thoughts provoked nearly made me dizzy.
“I feel something for you, Trip. It is not logical, but it is there.”
I said it simply, no hedging, no embellishments. I said it the way I needed Charles to hear it, as rationally as I could. I said it and never turned around, though I wanted to see his face. Instead, I brought his hands to my waist and used my own to slide his just under the hemline of my light red silk camisole. I let my hands linger only a moment before releasing his, ceding the next move to him.
“It is there,” I said quietly.
His hands were tense against my skin, still not moving.
“This isn't some kind of experiment for me, T'pol. I can't have you thinking that this is.”
“This isn't an experiment, Trip,” I replied quietly, admitting it slowly.
Carefully, his hands spread out against my skin, then ever so slowly, hesitantly, Charles began to slide them up beneath the silk. And if a touch could be called hopeful, his was. It was a very wary kind of hope, but hope nonetheless.
I held my breath.
After what seemed like hours instead of the minutes I knew it to be, Trip's fingertips brushed the undersides of my breasts and my breath rushed from me in a sudden whoosh of sound. It seemed to make Charles more confident. Gently, he cupped my breasts with his hands and brushed his thumbs once quickly across my nipples. They went erect with sudden sensation and I gasped, arching into his touch with obvious desire.
I could practically name it as the moment that Trip’s tension went from the edge of anger and hurt, into something else far more welcome.
“Trip…” his name fell from my lips in an almost helpless sigh.
He brought his own lips back to my neck, teasing along the bottom edge of my ear and his hands grew more confident, until I was arching like a bow into the steady pressure of them caressing my breasts beneath the silk of my camisole.
“Trip…”
“Say it again, T'pol. I need to hear you say it again.”
“I want you,” I half said, half begged. The words came quickly now, though whether that was because they were easier to say, or because of what he was doing, I couldn’t quite tell. Either way, it was enough for Trip, and he finally brought his mouth to my ear. Pleasure raced from his touch and down through my body to settle low in my belly, causing me to writhe in his arms.
After several moments that left me panting, Charles abruptly stopped. He pulled his hands away and moved out from behind me. I ached with the sudden loss and felt myself go tense with wondering what his unexpected withdrawal meant.
“Relax, T'pol,” the engineer soothed as he resettled himself in front of me. “I just wanted to see you.”
I looked into his normally star blue eyes and saw that they had gone evening dark, reflecting the light around us, as well as my own eyes, surprisingly wide with desire.
“And what do you see?”
“Something I never thought I would,” Trip admitted as he reached out to trace a gentle finger over the the curve of my ear. “You're so beautiful, T'pol. Do you realize just how beautiful you are?” He whispered, his tone making it an honest question.
“I find your features aesthetically pleasing as well,” I replied, surprised to almost feel a smile tug on my lips even as Trip granted me one of his own.
“Aesthetically pleasing...” he drawled with another smile as I let my hand drift out to caress his cheek, feeling the rough pull of stubble against my fingertips.
“Very pleasing,” I half whispered, gently tracing the line of his jaw. It was suddenly fascinating to see the contrast of his light to my dark.
“Never thought I'd hear a Vulcan say that about a human,” Trip confessed, his own voice as close to a whisper as mine was.
“Neither did I,” I admitted. “Nevertheless, it is true,” I replied, meaning it as I reached my other hand out to cradle his face between both of my hands. I gently pulled him closer. With an almost apparent helplessness, his eyes slid closed a moment, shutting their shadowed depths away from me.
“God, you smell good…” Trip sighed in a tone hinting at a sensory sort of intoxication.
I watched his lips as he spoke.
“Yes?”
“Like spicy cinnamon and honeysuckle,” the engineer murmured, his breath warm against my lips as I brought mine closer. “Like home...” he whispered as I brushed my lips against his in a soft caress.
It was feather light, just the shadow of a real kiss, but still, it made Trip’s eyes fly open and he would have pulled away but for my hands still cradling his face.
“I want this,” I reassured him before brushing my lips against his once more. “I want you,” I declared, and realized that it was the truth, even as I said the words. It wasn't logical, and I was unsure that it was wise, but it was true.
I kissed Trip, and for a moment, everything seemed to still, as unlikely as that was. Then suddenly, improbably, my heart burst into a million glorious pieces, each one becoming like a star in my breast. The dizzying sensation left me breathless until it began to kaleidoscope inward and all I could do was get lost in the pure emotion of it.
“God T'pol you taste good…”
I kissed him again, letting the strange, but not unpleasant, taste of him fill my mouth.
“T'pol…” he murmured.
“I want this, Trip...” I murmured, exploring the sharp, bright flavor of him on my lips and tongue.
“But...”
His lips were warm and subtle as he slowly returned my kiss before his moan hummed through me, threatening my tenuous control. As if he felt it, Charles pulled back just enough to whisper, “I have you. I won't let you get lost. I'll hold on to you.”
“Mmm…” my soft moan was an echo of his as I surrendered myself, trusting that Trip would do just that that; for a moment, trusting him completely.
When we finally surfaced from the kiss, it was as if we were somehow emerging from the vacuum of space, breathless and a little dizzy.
“That was...” I gasped.
“That was definitely… it was… wow…” Charles echoed, tripping over his words.
I couldn’t hold back a small sound of pleasure in response and I was almost unexpectedly pleased to see Trip smile at me.
“Definitely wow,” he repeated in a slow, smooth drawl.
Then Trip’s smile quietly became a promise of desire and the fulfillment of it before he kissed me again, leaving the lingering taste of himself on my lips even as his left mine. Slowly, he began trailing kisses like fire from my mouth to the open neckline of my camisole, and the feel of his breath whispering against the silk made me lose my own. It fell from me in a soft sigh.
The engineer tilted a look up to me from beneath serious brows, a hundred and one questions in his eyes, questions that he wanted me to answer. For a moment, I felt nearly overwhelmed, but then I met Trip’s night dark gaze and realized that I even though I couldn’t answer a hundred of them, there was at least one that I could.
“T'pol?”
“Yes…”
Charles licked his lips and I watched, fascinated and feeling my heartbeat racing ahead of my thoughts. Then unexpectedly, he slid down and took one of my nipples into his mouth, caressing it through the smooth red silk.
“Ahhh…” I gasped in surprise, feeling not just my nipple, but my whole body go taut with pleasure. It suddenly seemed nearly illogical that I had denied us both this for as long as I had.
“This has nothing to do with logic, T'pol,” Trip said, as if reading my thoughts.
I moaned in response, feeling the delicious slide of hot, wet silk beneath his lips as it moved over my nipple.
“And it's more than just some experiment.”
I gasped as I felt the soft scrape of his teeth through the fabric and arched back, trying to press myself closer to the human's very talented mouth.
“I want you to understand everything that we can be together,” he murmured, his breath teasing over my nipple and causing me to shudder even as I plucked almost frantically at the fabric trapped between us. It was too much; it wasn’t nearly enough. I needed…
“More…” I half sighed, half begged, still pulling fitfully at my camisole.
Trip responded by lifting his head up from my breast and giving me a subtle smile before sliding his hands very slowly and gently under the hem of my camisole. He let his hands drift upwards, the silk pooling around his wrists as he helped me free of it.
“More…” Trip promised, his rough voice touching something primal in me, resonating through my body until I felt like a taut guitar string waiting to be played. And the moment he took my nipple back into his mouth, pleasure did hum from me like a song that my body danced to. It wasn’t until I felt Charles trail kisses to the waistband of my silk pants that the song stilled in my throat.
“T'pol?”
I tensed.
“T'pol? Are you…” I felt Trip himself stiffen and pull away even as I did.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Trip… I just… I’ve never… and…” The words tumbled from me in an uncharacteristic rush as the force of my desire suddenly crashed into the wall of my uncertainties.
“Shh…” Charles interrupted gently. “Shh… It’s okay. We don’t have to. It’s enough; you’re enough,” he assured me softly.
“Trip…”
“It’s okay, T'pol. It’s enough; I understand.”
I met Trip's eyes. More importantly, I met the concern and understanding in the engineer's eyes. It was enough to break down the wall.
“No…” I countered, rising to my knees to divest myself of my pants.
Trip watched with eyes rapidly being swallowed by obsidian shadows and his breath coming in shallow whispers.
I swallowed, almost overwhelmed by the intensity of his regard.
“T'pol…” It was half question, half expression of need and desire.
“I want this,” I said, ridding myself of the last of my clothing and kneeling naked before the human in more ways than one.
“I want you,” I continued, reaching for Trip’s cotton tee-shirt and helping him to pull it up over his head.
“I am concerned,” I admitted, my fingers light as traced them down his chest.
“But it would not be logical to deny the truth...”
Together we slid Trip’s sweat pants off.
“Even if I should wish to do so…” I whispered.
I hesitated only a moment, then helped the human to shed the rest of his clothing as well, letting my fingertips linger against his heated skin as I did so.
“The truth is that I do care for you in a way that is not entirely rational or logical, but neither is it entirely unwelcome.”
“T'pol, are you tryin' to say you love me?”
I raised an eyebrow in reply, but gave him no further response.
He chucked and smoothly lead me toward my bed to lay us both down on it.
“Cause that's what it sounds like you're tryin' to do,” he added before murmuring my name, making it into the first line of a song, an aria composed as he trailed kisses like notes down my body until he came to rest at my navel. I arched up into the gentle pressure of his mouth before he began to trace his way lower to a place where his breath stirred intimate curls, making me gasp and twist beneath him.
“Please…”
I felt, more than saw Trip smile before he began to tease me with light brushes of his lips until the pulse thundering in my ears seemed to shake my whole body.
“Trip, please…” my own voice sounded surprisingly wild to my ears, tangled as it was with unsuppressed need and desire.
Finally, he deepened his kiss and it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Charles drank me in as deeply as if I were an exquisite wine and he wanted nothing more than to be intoxicated.
“Ahhh…” I was rapidly loosing the power of speech as I writhed wildly beneath him, my body more fully in control now than my mind.
Charles settled his hands on my hips to steady me as he lead me gently toward something I imagined someone of a more poetic nature might call shimmering and glorious.
“Oh my…Trip...” I gasped almost frantically and reached out blindly, digging my fingertips into the mattress beneath me. I bucked against my partner’s hands, my back arching like a bow as I sought release.
“Oh…oh…oh…” My climax rocked through me and I burst into a million glorious pieces, shattered and scattered into nothing more than light and sensation. For a moment, there was no T'pol, daughter of T'les, there was just me, and I was the universe. I reveled in the feeling even as it slowly slipped away, returning me to my body. But something was… I hesitated to call it wrong exactly…
“T'pol, are you okay?”
Trip’s question made me realize that I could feel him in my mind; that I could feel myself in his as well.
“How is that possible?” I asked myself, perplexed. It wasn’t possible, at least, I had never heard of it being possible, and it had certainly never happened to me before. Of course, if it were possible it would be unlikely...
“T'pol?”
There was a touch of insecurity in Trip’s voice and I realized that while I had been busy considering the situation, I had left him alone in uncertainty and unintended ignorance.
I met his night dark eyes.
“It's fine,” I reassured him. “There is nothing to be concerned over. I did not expect this, but it is...”
I hesitated.
“It is?” He prompted.
“Natural...” I replied, though I wasn't entirely certain that it was. Certainly I understood that it could be between Vulcans, but...
“Natural...” Trip echoed slowly, taking reassurance from my words, from me.
I reached out to touch Trip’s cheek, and when he shivered and his eyes widened, I realized that he could feel our connection through my fingertips.
“Do you trust me?”
“I do,” the engineer replied simply and without the hesitation I might have once expected. And truthfully, before today, his statement might have unsettled me. It still did actually, but now I wasn’t letting that fear hold me back.
“I want to try something, if you’ll trust me.”
Again, without any sign of hesitation, Trip pulled me to himself, shivering as he kissed me and felt our connection twine around and between us. I broke the kiss only long enough to reverse our positions, laying him back on the bed and placing myself above him.
“I want to share something with you,” I murmured. “Something I did not realize it was possible to share with a human.”
I took a deep breath and reached for Trip, starting with his hand and the thought that he could pull it away easily enough if he desired to. I traced his fingers first, gently applying pressure to the places that I could feel caused the greatest pleasure in him. When I was done with them, I slowly made my way up his arm and then to his shoulder.
I slipped my fingertips to the hollow of his throat, dancing them over the strong pulse beating hard beneath his warm skin until he sighed in pleasure.
“What are you doing?” Trip asked, his voice colored with the just the hint of wonder.
Gently, I trailed my caress lower, tracing a path down his chest, reading in his thoughts how it felt as I did so. Already, his nipples were taut, and I wondered what it would feel like to brush my fingertips over them.
“Do you feel it?” I asked quietly as I applied pressure, moving my fingertips over his skin.
“Yes…” he sighed.
“And it feels... pleasurable?” I asked, though his thoughts already told me the answer.
Trip moaned in response and I felt his pleasure tug at something primal in me.
“This…”
I traced the outer edge of his nipple.
“Does this feel good?” I murmured, brushing my fingertips lightly across Trip's nipple, causing him to gasp and moan.
“And this…” I said in a quiet voice before tasting the pulse at the hollow of his throat even as I continued to caress his nipple with my fingertips and gentle pressure. “Does this feel good?” I asked in a whisper against his heated skin.
“Yes…” he sighed.
“Good…” I whispered in return, echoing the kisses that still lingered on my skin before taking Trip’s other nipple in my mouth. He moaned and moved against me as I followed my own sense memories and played them out over his body, making the connection almost burn between us.
It was strange and exciting, caressing heat and scented human skin, exploring this man's angles and hard planes. And as I explored Trip’s secrets, it was as if I were seeing him for the first time.
“You are very well-made,” I murmured with a hushed breath. “I never… I didn’t realize how very…”
He interrupted with a kiss that left me a bit breathless.
“What’s well-made is this,” Trip drawled with a small, lop-sided grin. “Right here, right now…”
I nodded quietly and kissed him again, catching his moan as my fingers finally played down his body, applying pressure at just the right points, in ways far more intimate than that of neuropressure.
“T'pol…” Charles moaned into our parted lips when we finally took the chance to breathe.
Encouraged, I caressed him with gentle fingers and firm pressure until Trip was moaning wordlessly against my lips as he shivered almost uncontrollably, lost in sensation.
“I never realized...” I murmured again, moved by the fascination of watching Trip's reactions and knowing that I had caused them. “I just didn't…” I whispered, only to be interrupted by Charles tracing kisses over my face. And his kisses felt like the memory of desert winds or cool, clear nights under burning stars. Then his hands drifted up to caress the sensitive skin of my ears and I sighed.
“Trip...”
I moved to straddle his hips even as he sat up with a rough, masculine sort of grace. His hands fell to my hips and he rested his forehead against mine.
“T'pol...” he whispered as we breathed each other in for a moment.
“Yes...” I murmured in answer to his unspoken question. Then I matched action to words and joined my body slowly with his, biting my lip to hold back a very unvulcan-like moan.
“I love you, T'pol,” Charles whispered impulsively.
“Trip...”
“I love you, T'pol,” he repeated, breathing the words into the curve of my shoulder.
He lifted his eyes to meet mine.
“Love me...”
“Trip I...”
“Love me...” he gently demanded once more and I felt his need as my own. The connection burned deep and subtle between us. “T'pol... trust me...”
I felt the sweet, slow slide of him inside of me.
“Trust me...” he urged me again.
I felt the connection undeniably tangle us together in a ways I had never thought possible; had never expected.
“T'pol...”
“Yes...” I finally relented, giving into emotion as I arched backward while his hands slid up my spine, supporting me. We moved together; with each other; against each other. “Yes...”
For a moment, I was terrified as I felt myself start to come undone in his arms, then I reached for Trip though the connection. For better or worse, it anchored me, and I felt his warmth fill my cool stillness. I closed my eyes and moaned.
“That's it, Baby...” He encouraged, using the endearment with unabashed tenderness and passion.
I arched back further, rocking my hips against his and digging my fingers into his shoulders.
“Yes...” I moaned helplessly, dimly aware of a small voice within that warned I was choosing a dangerous path. I ignored it, sinking into the sensation of Trip giving me a sense of balance in a way that only he could.
“Yes...” he moaned, his own passion a perfect counterpoint to mine, deft and patient as he brought my pleasure to a crescendo in my very blood. Every cell seemed to tremble with a release greater than any I had ever known. It was like touching the infinite and, just for a moment, being able to hold it in your hand.
“Trip!” His name rose from me as a cry that, even as a near scream, couldn't express everything I was feeling.
“Oh God, T'pol,” he moaned and cried out his own fulfillment.
I rose up and captured the trailing ends of his cry with a kiss. We kissed until we were both too breathless to continue and Trip's head fell down to rest on my shoulder. I shivered as his harsh, warm breath danced over my damp skin.
“We can do this,” he whispered.
I said nothing and he didn't press the matter, even as the moments passed and I carefully withdrew from him. He watched me with dark eyes as I padded across the room and toward the abandoned guitar. I picked it up and noticed a small crack in the golden wood of the neck. I traced it carefully with my fingertip.
“It looks as if I broke it after all,” I said simply.
“Let me see.”
Trip rose from the bed and I moved to hand him the instrument before settling myself into a quiet meditation asana on the floor, heedless of my state of undress. Charles mirrored my action and sat cross-legged opposite me, cradling the guitar in his lap.
“It’s not too bad,” he reassured me as he brushed a fingertip over the wood. “I can probably fix it for you if you’d like. No one would ever be able to tell.”
I nodded in agreement and secret relief. I didn’t want to have to inform Doctor Phlox that I had broken his gift. And I definitely didn’t want to inform him of how it had gotten broken.
“Thank you.”
Trip smiled and strummed a low chord experimentally as he tilted his head a moment, listening. Whatever he heard seemed to satisfy him and he began to play softly.
“Down in the valley, valley so low; Hang your head over, hear the wind blow; Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow; Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.”
His voice slipped rough and hot through the air and seemed to reach out and caress me.
“Roses love sunshine, violets love dew; stars in heaven know I love you; Know I love you, dear, know I love you; stars in heaven, know I love you.”
I closed my eyes, feeling the lingering sense of Trip's emotions heighten my own.
“Writing this letter, containing three lines; Answer my question, "Oh will you be mine? Will you be mine, dear, will you be mine? Answer my question, "Oh will you be mine?"
“If you don't love me, love whom you please; Throw your arms round me, give my heart ease; Give my heart ease, dear, give my heart ease; Throw your arms round me, give my heart ease.”
When he final reached the last verse, his voice was like a warm desert heat, impossible to deny; impossible to ignore.
“Throw your arms round me, before it's too late; Throw your arms round me, feel my heart break; Feel my heart break, dear, feel my heart break; Throw your arms round me, feel my heart break...”
I kept my eyes closed until the last notes of the guitar stilled into a quiet hum.
“Breathe, T'pol,” Trip said in an almost whisper and I took a deep breath, not realizing until that moment, that I had been holding it. “Breathe,” he repeated.
The dusky scent of him so near unexpectedly heightened the feeling of near intoxication still whispering through my veins.
“T'pol?”
I opened my eyes slowly.
“T'pol, are you…” Charles asked almost hesitantly, his voice trailing off before finishing the question. But what his words didn’t ask, his eyes did, nearly challenging in their expression of bright uncertainty.
“It's not an experiment,” I reassured him once more in a soft voice, ignoring my own uncertainties by focusing on the one thing that I was certain of in the whole situation. “It's more than that,” I said.
Charles searched my eyes, hope, love, desire, and fear all waring inside his own. It was almost disconcerting to see it all and know that it was centered entirely on me.
“Okay,” he replied slowly.
I leaned forward to gently lift the guitar from his lap and set it aside, carefully propping it against the table.
“And I believe that you are correct, I can not learn to play this instrument from a computer program. I would appreciate continuing my lessons with you.”
He smiled, accepting the unspoken meaning beneath my words, as I intended.
“But not tonight,” I continued, rising up and offering Trip my hand. “No more lessons tonight I think.”
Charles nodded in quiet agreement and took my hand. I lead him back to the bed and he raised a questioning eyebrow. I made no reply other than to slip beneath the bed sheets, moving to allow him enough room to join me. For a moment, I was alone, and then the mattress sank comfortably under Trip's weight. He wrapped himself around me, and I let him; allowed myself want it.
As I started to drift into the warm depths of sleep, I heard Trip whisper against my ear, “If it's not an experiment T'pol, than what is it?”
I didn't answer until I was quite certain that he was dreaming peacefully.
“I love you,” I admitted into the quiet darkness...
"Down in the Valley" is a traditional folk song. There are multiple versions of the lyrics, I just used one version that suited the story.
All songs and images belong to their respective owners.
Title: Throw Your Arms 'Round Me, Feel My Heart Break
Genre: For scifiland challenge
Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise; Trip/T'pol
Theme: 'Ship on board Ship
Rating: NC-17; rated for sexual content
Timeline/Spoilers: This is meant to take place after "Harbinger" and just as T'pol is starting to recover from her trellium-D addiction.
Word Count: 6881
Author's Notes: So, for note, I have only watched Enterprise through Similitude in season three, this story is actually based on spoilers more than direct "knowledge." In addition, this is my first Star Trek story ever, so I have tried hard to capture their voices, but...
Throw Your Arms 'Round Me
Feel My Heart Break
~The heart has reasons which reason knows nothing of~
Blaise Pascal
I settled naturally into a meditation asana before my low table and quietly contemplated the small computer setting upon the gleaming surface like a bright shadow. Unexpectedly, I found myself staring it down almost as if it were an adversary. In my hands, I flipped an awkwardly shaped isolinear chip over and over; stalling.
“Enough,” I chastised myself.
I rose from my asana just enough to lean forward and slide the small chip into the computer before setting the simple program to play. I sat back down expectantly, waiting for the almost antiquated program to begin, which it did after several minutes of strange, pale static.
“Welcome to lesson one of ‘So You Want to Learn to Play the Guitar,” a bland, innocuous humanoid voice greeted me from the computer speakers.
“Not precisely,” I murmured under my breath, but Doctor Phlox had given me the isolinear chip with the insistence that the program contained on it would assist me in my need to find something to help me regain my emotional balance and focus. The lingering effects of my trellium-D addiction were far too dangerous to leave unchecked, and traditional mediation did not appear to be quite enough. The doctor had declared that I simply needed an alternative method to focus my meditations, hence the lesson program.
“That’s right!” The bland voice encouraged, and I realized that I had missed everything leading up to the statement. With a quiet ache of frustration distressingly close to the surface, I sighed and rose to my knees again to set the program back to the beginning.
“Welcome to lesson one of ‘So You Want to Learn to Play the Guitar…”
I closed my eyes and let the bland voice wash over me for a moment. That moment lead to another, and another, until I suddenly realized that the lesson had somehow gotten away from me once more.
“Now, are we ready to try our first note?”
This time, I repressed my sigh and simply restarted the program yet again before reaching for the guitar that Doctor Phlox had also somehow procured and given to me.
It was almost surprisingly beautiful to the touch, the rich dark wood and ornate cerulean etched ivory inlay of its construction smooth and cool beneath my fingertips. I was distracted enough that it took time for me to find the just the right placement for it in my lap and in my hands. By the time I had figured out how to hold the unfamiliar human instrument, the program had droned its way blithely along to ...
“And now, how did we do on our first scale progression? Excellent. Next, let’s try…”
Suddenly, my door chime interrupted me and I was startled enough to almost drop the instrument from my grasp. I recovered quickly and managed to set it down carefully instead.
“Come,” I called, and the door opened to reveal Enterprise's chief engineer dressed in casual civilian clothing meant for comfort and sleeping.
“Commander Tucker? It is late,” I greeted him.
He gave me a curious look.
“We did agree... all experiments aside, that there was no reason to stop our neuropressure treatments...” he reminded me with an odd note in his voice that I could not quite interpret.
I made a small sound of acknowledgment, remembering a conversation to that effect.
“Of course; come in,” I replied as calmly as I could, watching as the Commander stepped completely into my quarters, the door sliding closed behind him.
He eyed the guitar resting near my leg and then tilted his head with an air of curiosity as the computer continued to detail its lesson with bland cheerfulness.
“Are you trying to learn how to play the guitar from a computer program?” The engineer asked incredulously.
I quickly leaned forward to press stop on the program.
“Yes,” I replied simply.
“Well okay...” Charles drawled when I did not elaborate further. “Why?” He asked with one curiously raised brow.
For a moment, I considered not saying anything, but then I met Trip's open gaze and found myself quietly explaining. When I had finished, the engineer gave me a curious look, his dark blue eyes patient as he offered his opinion as if it were an absolute statement of fact.
“Well, that sounds logical enough I suppose, but you can’t learn to play the guitar from a computer program.”
“I fail to see why not,” I countered, settling my clasped hands in my lap and looking down at them as I tried to keep emotion from my voice.
“It's not like some math equation, T'pol. You can't just learn it from a book or a chip... it's... there's an art to it, and that, you can't learn from some computer.”
“It's precisely like a math equation,” I argued. “Even your own people acknowledge the link between music and logical thought.”
“Well yeah... but even Vulcans say that some science lessons are best taught by an experienced mentor,” Charles countered.
“Be that as it may...” I replied as I resisted the irrational urge to shrug.
“You should have Phlox teach you,” the engineer suggested.
“He is not familiar with how to play the instrument, that is the reason he provided me with the program,” I replied. “And before you suggest it, no, I do not know anyone else on board who plays.”
“I do,” Trip offered after a moment of almost heavy silence.
“What?”
I turned my gaze back up to the Engineer.
“I know how to play the guitar,” he repeated quietly. “I could teach you if you like.”
The last was said even more quietly than the first statement, almost hesitantly.
“I was unaware you played.”
“I taught Elizabeth how to play. I haven’t played since… not since she… I mean, I don’t play anymore… but I remember how, and I could teach you,” Trip explained, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words as he spoke softly.
At the mention of his sister's name, I watched his face carefully, seeing the sharp flicker of pain that saying it invoked. It called to something inside of me that I found difficult to deny. More surprisingly, I was startled to realize that there was a very real part of me that did not want to deny it; a part of me that wanted to reach out to comfort the man before me.
I felt the quick, fierce stab of emotion, and struggled to suppress it. It was more difficult than it should have been, but eventually, I wrestled some sort of thin control over my feelings and gave Trip a small nod that he took for the simple agreement that I meant it to be.
“Okay...” Charles replied in an oddly quiet tone, perhaps surprised by my acceptance of his offer. “Okay...”
He slipped out of his shoes quickly and joined me on the floor, settling himself close enough that I could feel his heat warm my own skin. He began his lesson and I tried to ignore his nearness, focusing instead on playing as he directed.
“No, T'pol it’s just the first finger down, try to keep the other fingers up.”
I tried to place my finger down properly.
“Down lower,” Trip directed. “Lower... right there.”
I struggled to place my fingers just right before plucking almost violently at the strings with my other hand.
“You’re meant to strum it,” he corrected.
I couldn’t help but glare at him, my frustration suddenly starting to fray both my patience and my nerves. With fingers forced stiff with suppressed emotion, I tried to brush my fingertips over the strings to produce a more pleasant sound. A string broke, snapping out and up.
“K'plath,” I swore.
“Let me see,” Trip offered.
“There is no need,” I replied with as much dignity as I could. “I am not truly injured.”
“Well here, at least let me re-string the guitar for you. Did Phlox give you any extra strings?”
I pointed mutely over to a plastic storage case on my bed, the same one that I had pulled the isolinear chip from earlier. Trip took the guitar from me, and while I surreptitiously nursed my smarting fingers, he deftly restrung the instrument and padded back in my direction.
Then, for a moment, he simply stood over me, giving me an odd, considering sort of look. But before I could inquire as to what it was about, he sighed and spoke.
“Let’s try this another way.”
I tensed as he padded around me and settled himself down behind my back. I was still tense as I felt him inch closer.
“It’ll be easier if I show you how to do it, instead of trying to just explain it,” Trip said quietly. “It’s okay,” he added, saying it to reassure himself as much as me I thought. “I’ll just show you quickly and it won’t be as frustrating as doing it the other way. And yeah... I know,” he drawled. “What I'm seeing isn't really frustration,” he said with a small smile in his voice. “Vulcans don't experience frustration.”
Trip scooted even closer and I stiffened when he set each of his navy blue cotton clad legs to either side of my body. I was so focused on the sight of his legs around me that I almost jumped when he lifted his arms up and over my head to set the guitar in my lap. I felt the engineer tense in response and forced myself to relax. It was now the closest we had been in weeks, both physically and emotionally.
I took a deep breath.
“What do I do first?” I made myself ask in a normal voice, quietly pleased at being able to do so.
I felt Trip relax a little himself before reaching around to take my hands in his. For a moment, I went stiff again and felt the human's conflicting instincts roused by my response. Surprisingly sensitive to it, I made myself go loose in his grasp and slowed my pulse down with a couple of deep breaths.
“Commander Tucker?”
“Your fingers need to go here and be like this,” he instructed, placing my hands where he wanted them. “That’s an E.”
“E,” I echoed.
“And this is an A,” he said then, repeating the process of placing my hands. “D…”
He continued through each note until we had done the scale three times.
“Every Apple Does Go Bad Eventually,” Charles chanted as we completed the last progression.
“I don't understand,” I forced myself to admit.
“It’s a mnemonic device to remember the notes,” the engineer explained simply.
“I am unfamiliar with it,” I replied.
“Not surprised, if all you Vulcans learn art and music from machines.”
“We do not.”
I felt Trip waiting for me to share something of a more personal nature and when I offered nothing further, he sighed. I tried to not notice how warm his breath was against my neck. Just as I tried equally hard to ignore the feeling of his heartbeat against my back as he pressed closer to get a better hold of my hands.
“Now, you need to learn the Major and Minor chords too,” he explained, moving my hands as he spoke. “They give the music a soul… emotion… heart...”
“I can not see why that would be necessary, or even how it would be possible,” I countered, still trying to keep myself focused on other things besides the heat of him pressed against my back, or the warmth of his breath stirring the short strands of my hair.
“It just is...” he murmured.
“I fail to understand how that is an answer,” I replied quietly.
“I think maybe you understand a bit more than you let on...” Trip countered as he shifted against me. And I think... T'pol…”
The engineer's tone made me realize just how unintentionally intimate our embrace had become.
“T'pol, I think we should…”
Briefly, logical thought tried to reassert itself in my mind, but I felt my control slipping. Impulsively I titled my head, offering him the curve of my neck.
“T'pol...” he murmured before his lips fell to my skin, just shy of my ear, and for a moment, it didn't matter that my acceptance of his caress meant that I had given into my emotions. For a moment, I did not struggle to find a more logical attitude. Then suddenly, almost violently, Trip pulled his head up.
“No,” he said almost harshly.
“Trip…”
“No... I can't just be an experiment to you, T'pol,” he declared in a heated tone.
He tried to take his hands away from mine and pull back from me, but I gripped him as tightly as I dared, letting the guitar fall. It hit the floor at an odd angle and I could hear the neck crack from the stress, but I held onto Charles.
It wasn’t a logical gesture, but I did it because I needed him to hear what I had to say. “I know that,” I returned with as much understanding as I could. “I do know that, and this isn't about exploring human sexuality,” I assured him.
“Then what is it about?” Trip demanded, his voice tinged with an edge of passion that I had to admit excited me as much as it scared me.
I took a deep breath and proceeded, ignoring the way my heart seemed to stutter in apprehension. There was a very real danger of losing myself in my emotions; in being unable to achieve the necessary balance if I chose to pursue this course of action. The rush of emotion and sensation that these thoughts provoked nearly made me dizzy.
“I feel something for you, Trip. It is not logical, but it is there.”
I said it simply, no hedging, no embellishments. I said it the way I needed Charles to hear it, as rationally as I could. I said it and never turned around, though I wanted to see his face. Instead, I brought his hands to my waist and used my own to slide his just under the hemline of my light red silk camisole. I let my hands linger only a moment before releasing his, ceding the next move to him.
“It is there,” I said quietly.
His hands were tense against my skin, still not moving.
“This isn't some kind of experiment for me, T'pol. I can't have you thinking that this is.”
“This isn't an experiment, Trip,” I replied quietly, admitting it slowly.
Carefully, his hands spread out against my skin, then ever so slowly, hesitantly, Charles began to slide them up beneath the silk. And if a touch could be called hopeful, his was. It was a very wary kind of hope, but hope nonetheless.
I held my breath.
After what seemed like hours instead of the minutes I knew it to be, Trip's fingertips brushed the undersides of my breasts and my breath rushed from me in a sudden whoosh of sound. It seemed to make Charles more confident. Gently, he cupped my breasts with his hands and brushed his thumbs once quickly across my nipples. They went erect with sudden sensation and I gasped, arching into his touch with obvious desire.
I could practically name it as the moment that Trip’s tension went from the edge of anger and hurt, into something else far more welcome.
“Trip…” his name fell from my lips in an almost helpless sigh.
He brought his own lips back to my neck, teasing along the bottom edge of my ear and his hands grew more confident, until I was arching like a bow into the steady pressure of them caressing my breasts beneath the silk of my camisole.
“Trip…”
“Say it again, T'pol. I need to hear you say it again.”
“I want you,” I half said, half begged. The words came quickly now, though whether that was because they were easier to say, or because of what he was doing, I couldn’t quite tell. Either way, it was enough for Trip, and he finally brought his mouth to my ear. Pleasure raced from his touch and down through my body to settle low in my belly, causing me to writhe in his arms.
After several moments that left me panting, Charles abruptly stopped. He pulled his hands away and moved out from behind me. I ached with the sudden loss and felt myself go tense with wondering what his unexpected withdrawal meant.
“Relax, T'pol,” the engineer soothed as he resettled himself in front of me. “I just wanted to see you.”
I looked into his normally star blue eyes and saw that they had gone evening dark, reflecting the light around us, as well as my own eyes, surprisingly wide with desire.
“And what do you see?”
“Something I never thought I would,” Trip admitted as he reached out to trace a gentle finger over the the curve of my ear. “You're so beautiful, T'pol. Do you realize just how beautiful you are?” He whispered, his tone making it an honest question.
“I find your features aesthetically pleasing as well,” I replied, surprised to almost feel a smile tug on my lips even as Trip granted me one of his own.
“Aesthetically pleasing...” he drawled with another smile as I let my hand drift out to caress his cheek, feeling the rough pull of stubble against my fingertips.
“Very pleasing,” I half whispered, gently tracing the line of his jaw. It was suddenly fascinating to see the contrast of his light to my dark.
“Never thought I'd hear a Vulcan say that about a human,” Trip confessed, his own voice as close to a whisper as mine was.
“Neither did I,” I admitted. “Nevertheless, it is true,” I replied, meaning it as I reached my other hand out to cradle his face between both of my hands. I gently pulled him closer. With an almost apparent helplessness, his eyes slid closed a moment, shutting their shadowed depths away from me.
“God, you smell good…” Trip sighed in a tone hinting at a sensory sort of intoxication.
I watched his lips as he spoke.
“Yes?”
“Like spicy cinnamon and honeysuckle,” the engineer murmured, his breath warm against my lips as I brought mine closer. “Like home...” he whispered as I brushed my lips against his in a soft caress.
It was feather light, just the shadow of a real kiss, but still, it made Trip’s eyes fly open and he would have pulled away but for my hands still cradling his face.
“I want this,” I reassured him before brushing my lips against his once more. “I want you,” I declared, and realized that it was the truth, even as I said the words. It wasn't logical, and I was unsure that it was wise, but it was true.
I kissed Trip, and for a moment, everything seemed to still, as unlikely as that was. Then suddenly, improbably, my heart burst into a million glorious pieces, each one becoming like a star in my breast. The dizzying sensation left me breathless until it began to kaleidoscope inward and all I could do was get lost in the pure emotion of it.
“God T'pol you taste good…”
I kissed him again, letting the strange, but not unpleasant, taste of him fill my mouth.
“T'pol…” he murmured.
“I want this, Trip...” I murmured, exploring the sharp, bright flavor of him on my lips and tongue.
“But...”
His lips were warm and subtle as he slowly returned my kiss before his moan hummed through me, threatening my tenuous control. As if he felt it, Charles pulled back just enough to whisper, “I have you. I won't let you get lost. I'll hold on to you.”
“Mmm…” my soft moan was an echo of his as I surrendered myself, trusting that Trip would do just that that; for a moment, trusting him completely.
When we finally surfaced from the kiss, it was as if we were somehow emerging from the vacuum of space, breathless and a little dizzy.
“That was...” I gasped.
“That was definitely… it was… wow…” Charles echoed, tripping over his words.
I couldn’t hold back a small sound of pleasure in response and I was almost unexpectedly pleased to see Trip smile at me.
“Definitely wow,” he repeated in a slow, smooth drawl.
Then Trip’s smile quietly became a promise of desire and the fulfillment of it before he kissed me again, leaving the lingering taste of himself on my lips even as his left mine. Slowly, he began trailing kisses like fire from my mouth to the open neckline of my camisole, and the feel of his breath whispering against the silk made me lose my own. It fell from me in a soft sigh.
The engineer tilted a look up to me from beneath serious brows, a hundred and one questions in his eyes, questions that he wanted me to answer. For a moment, I felt nearly overwhelmed, but then I met Trip’s night dark gaze and realized that I even though I couldn’t answer a hundred of them, there was at least one that I could.
“T'pol?”
“Yes…”
Charles licked his lips and I watched, fascinated and feeling my heartbeat racing ahead of my thoughts. Then unexpectedly, he slid down and took one of my nipples into his mouth, caressing it through the smooth red silk.
“Ahhh…” I gasped in surprise, feeling not just my nipple, but my whole body go taut with pleasure. It suddenly seemed nearly illogical that I had denied us both this for as long as I had.
“This has nothing to do with logic, T'pol,” Trip said, as if reading my thoughts.
I moaned in response, feeling the delicious slide of hot, wet silk beneath his lips as it moved over my nipple.
“And it's more than just some experiment.”
I gasped as I felt the soft scrape of his teeth through the fabric and arched back, trying to press myself closer to the human's very talented mouth.
“I want you to understand everything that we can be together,” he murmured, his breath teasing over my nipple and causing me to shudder even as I plucked almost frantically at the fabric trapped between us. It was too much; it wasn’t nearly enough. I needed…
“More…” I half sighed, half begged, still pulling fitfully at my camisole.
Trip responded by lifting his head up from my breast and giving me a subtle smile before sliding his hands very slowly and gently under the hem of my camisole. He let his hands drift upwards, the silk pooling around his wrists as he helped me free of it.
“More…” Trip promised, his rough voice touching something primal in me, resonating through my body until I felt like a taut guitar string waiting to be played. And the moment he took my nipple back into his mouth, pleasure did hum from me like a song that my body danced to. It wasn’t until I felt Charles trail kisses to the waistband of my silk pants that the song stilled in my throat.
“T'pol?”
I tensed.
“T'pol? Are you…” I felt Trip himself stiffen and pull away even as I did.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Trip… I just… I’ve never… and…” The words tumbled from me in an uncharacteristic rush as the force of my desire suddenly crashed into the wall of my uncertainties.
“Shh…” Charles interrupted gently. “Shh… It’s okay. We don’t have to. It’s enough; you’re enough,” he assured me softly.
“Trip…”
“It’s okay, T'pol. It’s enough; I understand.”
I met Trip's eyes. More importantly, I met the concern and understanding in the engineer's eyes. It was enough to break down the wall.
“No…” I countered, rising to my knees to divest myself of my pants.
Trip watched with eyes rapidly being swallowed by obsidian shadows and his breath coming in shallow whispers.
I swallowed, almost overwhelmed by the intensity of his regard.
“T'pol…” It was half question, half expression of need and desire.
“I want this,” I said, ridding myself of the last of my clothing and kneeling naked before the human in more ways than one.
“I want you,” I continued, reaching for Trip’s cotton tee-shirt and helping him to pull it up over his head.
“I am concerned,” I admitted, my fingers light as traced them down his chest.
“But it would not be logical to deny the truth...”
Together we slid Trip’s sweat pants off.
“Even if I should wish to do so…” I whispered.
I hesitated only a moment, then helped the human to shed the rest of his clothing as well, letting my fingertips linger against his heated skin as I did so.
“The truth is that I do care for you in a way that is not entirely rational or logical, but neither is it entirely unwelcome.”
“T'pol, are you tryin' to say you love me?”
I raised an eyebrow in reply, but gave him no further response.
He chucked and smoothly lead me toward my bed to lay us both down on it.
“Cause that's what it sounds like you're tryin' to do,” he added before murmuring my name, making it into the first line of a song, an aria composed as he trailed kisses like notes down my body until he came to rest at my navel. I arched up into the gentle pressure of his mouth before he began to trace his way lower to a place where his breath stirred intimate curls, making me gasp and twist beneath him.
“Please…”
I felt, more than saw Trip smile before he began to tease me with light brushes of his lips until the pulse thundering in my ears seemed to shake my whole body.
“Trip, please…” my own voice sounded surprisingly wild to my ears, tangled as it was with unsuppressed need and desire.
Finally, he deepened his kiss and it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Charles drank me in as deeply as if I were an exquisite wine and he wanted nothing more than to be intoxicated.
“Ahhh…” I was rapidly loosing the power of speech as I writhed wildly beneath him, my body more fully in control now than my mind.
Charles settled his hands on my hips to steady me as he lead me gently toward something I imagined someone of a more poetic nature might call shimmering and glorious.
“Oh my…Trip...” I gasped almost frantically and reached out blindly, digging my fingertips into the mattress beneath me. I bucked against my partner’s hands, my back arching like a bow as I sought release.
“Oh…oh…oh…” My climax rocked through me and I burst into a million glorious pieces, shattered and scattered into nothing more than light and sensation. For a moment, there was no T'pol, daughter of T'les, there was just me, and I was the universe. I reveled in the feeling even as it slowly slipped away, returning me to my body. But something was… I hesitated to call it wrong exactly…
“T'pol, are you okay?”
Trip’s question made me realize that I could feel him in my mind; that I could feel myself in his as well.
“How is that possible?” I asked myself, perplexed. It wasn’t possible, at least, I had never heard of it being possible, and it had certainly never happened to me before. Of course, if it were possible it would be unlikely...
“T'pol?”
There was a touch of insecurity in Trip’s voice and I realized that while I had been busy considering the situation, I had left him alone in uncertainty and unintended ignorance.
I met his night dark eyes.
“It's fine,” I reassured him. “There is nothing to be concerned over. I did not expect this, but it is...”
I hesitated.
“It is?” He prompted.
“Natural...” I replied, though I wasn't entirely certain that it was. Certainly I understood that it could be between Vulcans, but...
“Natural...” Trip echoed slowly, taking reassurance from my words, from me.
I reached out to touch Trip’s cheek, and when he shivered and his eyes widened, I realized that he could feel our connection through my fingertips.
“Do you trust me?”
“I do,” the engineer replied simply and without the hesitation I might have once expected. And truthfully, before today, his statement might have unsettled me. It still did actually, but now I wasn’t letting that fear hold me back.
“I want to try something, if you’ll trust me.”
Again, without any sign of hesitation, Trip pulled me to himself, shivering as he kissed me and felt our connection twine around and between us. I broke the kiss only long enough to reverse our positions, laying him back on the bed and placing myself above him.
“I want to share something with you,” I murmured. “Something I did not realize it was possible to share with a human.”
I took a deep breath and reached for Trip, starting with his hand and the thought that he could pull it away easily enough if he desired to. I traced his fingers first, gently applying pressure to the places that I could feel caused the greatest pleasure in him. When I was done with them, I slowly made my way up his arm and then to his shoulder.
I slipped my fingertips to the hollow of his throat, dancing them over the strong pulse beating hard beneath his warm skin until he sighed in pleasure.
“What are you doing?” Trip asked, his voice colored with the just the hint of wonder.
Gently, I trailed my caress lower, tracing a path down his chest, reading in his thoughts how it felt as I did so. Already, his nipples were taut, and I wondered what it would feel like to brush my fingertips over them.
“Do you feel it?” I asked quietly as I applied pressure, moving my fingertips over his skin.
“Yes…” he sighed.
“And it feels... pleasurable?” I asked, though his thoughts already told me the answer.
Trip moaned in response and I felt his pleasure tug at something primal in me.
“This…”
I traced the outer edge of his nipple.
“Does this feel good?” I murmured, brushing my fingertips lightly across Trip's nipple, causing him to gasp and moan.
“And this…” I said in a quiet voice before tasting the pulse at the hollow of his throat even as I continued to caress his nipple with my fingertips and gentle pressure. “Does this feel good?” I asked in a whisper against his heated skin.
“Yes…” he sighed.
“Good…” I whispered in return, echoing the kisses that still lingered on my skin before taking Trip’s other nipple in my mouth. He moaned and moved against me as I followed my own sense memories and played them out over his body, making the connection almost burn between us.
It was strange and exciting, caressing heat and scented human skin, exploring this man's angles and hard planes. And as I explored Trip’s secrets, it was as if I were seeing him for the first time.
“You are very well-made,” I murmured with a hushed breath. “I never… I didn’t realize how very…”
He interrupted with a kiss that left me a bit breathless.
“What’s well-made is this,” Trip drawled with a small, lop-sided grin. “Right here, right now…”
I nodded quietly and kissed him again, catching his moan as my fingers finally played down his body, applying pressure at just the right points, in ways far more intimate than that of neuropressure.
“T'pol…” Charles moaned into our parted lips when we finally took the chance to breathe.
Encouraged, I caressed him with gentle fingers and firm pressure until Trip was moaning wordlessly against my lips as he shivered almost uncontrollably, lost in sensation.
“I never realized...” I murmured again, moved by the fascination of watching Trip's reactions and knowing that I had caused them. “I just didn't…” I whispered, only to be interrupted by Charles tracing kisses over my face. And his kisses felt like the memory of desert winds or cool, clear nights under burning stars. Then his hands drifted up to caress the sensitive skin of my ears and I sighed.
“Trip...”
I moved to straddle his hips even as he sat up with a rough, masculine sort of grace. His hands fell to my hips and he rested his forehead against mine.
“T'pol...” he whispered as we breathed each other in for a moment.
“Yes...” I murmured in answer to his unspoken question. Then I matched action to words and joined my body slowly with his, biting my lip to hold back a very unvulcan-like moan.
“I love you, T'pol,” Charles whispered impulsively.
“Trip...”
“I love you, T'pol,” he repeated, breathing the words into the curve of my shoulder.
He lifted his eyes to meet mine.
“Love me...”
“Trip I...”
“Love me...” he gently demanded once more and I felt his need as my own. The connection burned deep and subtle between us. “T'pol... trust me...”
I felt the sweet, slow slide of him inside of me.
“Trust me...” he urged me again.
I felt the connection undeniably tangle us together in a ways I had never thought possible; had never expected.
“T'pol...”
“Yes...” I finally relented, giving into emotion as I arched backward while his hands slid up my spine, supporting me. We moved together; with each other; against each other. “Yes...”
For a moment, I was terrified as I felt myself start to come undone in his arms, then I reached for Trip though the connection. For better or worse, it anchored me, and I felt his warmth fill my cool stillness. I closed my eyes and moaned.
“That's it, Baby...” He encouraged, using the endearment with unabashed tenderness and passion.
I arched back further, rocking my hips against his and digging my fingers into his shoulders.
“Yes...” I moaned helplessly, dimly aware of a small voice within that warned I was choosing a dangerous path. I ignored it, sinking into the sensation of Trip giving me a sense of balance in a way that only he could.
“Yes...” he moaned, his own passion a perfect counterpoint to mine, deft and patient as he brought my pleasure to a crescendo in my very blood. Every cell seemed to tremble with a release greater than any I had ever known. It was like touching the infinite and, just for a moment, being able to hold it in your hand.
“Trip!” His name rose from me as a cry that, even as a near scream, couldn't express everything I was feeling.
“Oh God, T'pol,” he moaned and cried out his own fulfillment.
I rose up and captured the trailing ends of his cry with a kiss. We kissed until we were both too breathless to continue and Trip's head fell down to rest on my shoulder. I shivered as his harsh, warm breath danced over my damp skin.
“We can do this,” he whispered.
I said nothing and he didn't press the matter, even as the moments passed and I carefully withdrew from him. He watched me with dark eyes as I padded across the room and toward the abandoned guitar. I picked it up and noticed a small crack in the golden wood of the neck. I traced it carefully with my fingertip.
“It looks as if I broke it after all,” I said simply.
“Let me see.”
Trip rose from the bed and I moved to hand him the instrument before settling myself into a quiet meditation asana on the floor, heedless of my state of undress. Charles mirrored my action and sat cross-legged opposite me, cradling the guitar in his lap.
“It’s not too bad,” he reassured me as he brushed a fingertip over the wood. “I can probably fix it for you if you’d like. No one would ever be able to tell.”
I nodded in agreement and secret relief. I didn’t want to have to inform Doctor Phlox that I had broken his gift. And I definitely didn’t want to inform him of how it had gotten broken.
“Thank you.”
Trip smiled and strummed a low chord experimentally as he tilted his head a moment, listening. Whatever he heard seemed to satisfy him and he began to play softly.
“Down in the valley, valley so low; Hang your head over, hear the wind blow; Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow; Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.”
His voice slipped rough and hot through the air and seemed to reach out and caress me.
“Roses love sunshine, violets love dew; stars in heaven know I love you; Know I love you, dear, know I love you; stars in heaven, know I love you.”
I closed my eyes, feeling the lingering sense of Trip's emotions heighten my own.
“Writing this letter, containing three lines; Answer my question, "Oh will you be mine? Will you be mine, dear, will you be mine? Answer my question, "Oh will you be mine?"
“If you don't love me, love whom you please; Throw your arms round me, give my heart ease; Give my heart ease, dear, give my heart ease; Throw your arms round me, give my heart ease.”
When he final reached the last verse, his voice was like a warm desert heat, impossible to deny; impossible to ignore.
“Throw your arms round me, before it's too late; Throw your arms round me, feel my heart break; Feel my heart break, dear, feel my heart break; Throw your arms round me, feel my heart break...”
I kept my eyes closed until the last notes of the guitar stilled into a quiet hum.
“Breathe, T'pol,” Trip said in an almost whisper and I took a deep breath, not realizing until that moment, that I had been holding it. “Breathe,” he repeated.
The dusky scent of him so near unexpectedly heightened the feeling of near intoxication still whispering through my veins.
“T'pol?”
I opened my eyes slowly.
“T'pol, are you…” Charles asked almost hesitantly, his voice trailing off before finishing the question. But what his words didn’t ask, his eyes did, nearly challenging in their expression of bright uncertainty.
“It's not an experiment,” I reassured him once more in a soft voice, ignoring my own uncertainties by focusing on the one thing that I was certain of in the whole situation. “It's more than that,” I said.
Charles searched my eyes, hope, love, desire, and fear all waring inside his own. It was almost disconcerting to see it all and know that it was centered entirely on me.
“Okay,” he replied slowly.
I leaned forward to gently lift the guitar from his lap and set it aside, carefully propping it against the table.
“And I believe that you are correct, I can not learn to play this instrument from a computer program. I would appreciate continuing my lessons with you.”
He smiled, accepting the unspoken meaning beneath my words, as I intended.
“But not tonight,” I continued, rising up and offering Trip my hand. “No more lessons tonight I think.”
Charles nodded in quiet agreement and took my hand. I lead him back to the bed and he raised a questioning eyebrow. I made no reply other than to slip beneath the bed sheets, moving to allow him enough room to join me. For a moment, I was alone, and then the mattress sank comfortably under Trip's weight. He wrapped himself around me, and I let him; allowed myself want it.
As I started to drift into the warm depths of sleep, I heard Trip whisper against my ear, “If it's not an experiment T'pol, than what is it?”
I didn't answer until I was quite certain that he was dreaming peacefully.
“I love you,” I admitted into the quiet darkness...