Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!
My NaNo count is over 50K, and Act One of The Earth Doth Move is starting to get close to becoming Act Two. Spock has made a decision that will change the course of his life-and those changes begin with sudden impact…you can read snippets of that story here and here….
Here, though, I’m sticking with Trip and T’Pol, because I can’t just leave them hanging, all revved up and locked in a cell for a month with no one popping in on them…can you imagine the delicious trouble they could get up to?
Can you imagine missing it?!
No need to panic…I’ve got you covered! And, for our intrepid
Puppet WIPpet Mistress, who added another 10K to her WIP, I’ve got a handful, or two. Or Trip does. Or maybe it’s T’Pol. Or just a fantasy. Maybe I need to go to bed instead of writing all night…nah!
- Today is November 12, 2014.
- My convoluted math: 1+1+1+2+2+1= 8 (yes, I pulled all the 1s and 2s, and skipped the rest, which I think makes it extra WIPpetty math!)
- You get eight shortish paragraphs, this week.
- I’m adding in the last two sentences from last, to help put the scene in context.
This story is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. I‘ve done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.
Last week’s conclusion:
“Your hair – is also disarranged.” Shaky fingers crept up, then hovered about at the level of my shoulder, and there was a question in the set of her face – how the hell did she manage that, and not look like she’d shifted a muscle?
And now for today’s installment:
“Go ahead,” I nodded and leaned in a little closer, so she could reach me. She moved slowly, tentative at first, her fingers stroking and quivering. I watched her face; her eyes were half closed, and her lips were parted; other than her fingers, she was very, very still. I was sure I’d never get enough of how beautiful and absorbed she was – was she really going to walk out of my life in just a few days? Would I ever see her again? Would she want to see me?
After a minute or so, her feathery touches on my scalp were stirring things back to life in other places, and I squirmed, wondering if she was ever going to stop.
“Hey, T’Pol?” No answer; she didn’t even twitch. I was starting to get the idea that Vulcans were as serious and single-minded about sex as they were about everything else. “”T’Pol?”
Was it really only a little while ago I was calling her Little Miss Logical in my mind? Where was Little Miss Logical now? Her fingers were bolder, and she was using both hands, tracing out my ears, again and again, and now I shuddered, imagining what those dancing digits could do on other sensitive parts of my anatomy. Damn, this woman was irresistable- and maybe unstoppable, too…
“Subcommander T’Pol.” Desperate, I straightened my spine to attention; she jerked in surprise, her eyes snapping open, but looking huge and dazed – just like they had that night at Fusion. She almost snatched her hands away, putting them into her lap, where they clasped and twisted restlessly.
“I was – merely – returning your hair to a state of order.”.She was looking at me like she desperately wanted me to believe it, so that she could try to.
“If you say so, Subcommander.” I shrugged. “Course, I really don’t have that much hair on the outside of my ears.” I grinned, and, while she stared at me, I got up, and stuck out a hand to her. Maybe I was playing with fire, but I was still a gentleman – and I wanted her to touch my fingers again, so I could feel that sizzling awareness of her.
T’Pol stared at my hand, and, for a second, I thought maybe she’d take it this time. Instead, she unfolded to stand up as gracefully as a ballet dancer, clasping her hands behind her again, That put a delicious little arch in her back, pressing her breasts up touchably close. Now my imagination, which was a damned fool, played out a scene where I slipped that jacket off her shoulders, figured out how the uniform worked, and did away with whatever she wore underneath, and revealed the double handful of delight under all those layers, so that I could find out what she felt like…I wondered if she’d like that, if she’d arch in even closer, if she’d beg me to undress her, touch her everywhere, make long slow love with her…
Will Trip lose control? Will T’Pol let him act out his fantasy? Would she like that? Are they going to need to fix up a lot more than their hair, if they want to keep this affair to themselves?
You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet!
Until next week, live long, prosper, and, if it applies, happy NaNoing, y’all!