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!
I’ve been a little – remote- here, the last few weeks, as the new story devoured me whole. It’s not done yet, but NaNo is, so I’m stepping back a bit. I’ve got comments galore to answer from my lovely fellow WIPpeteers, and I intend to get back to visiting everyone, because I kinda haven’t been, and I want to see what all of your characters are up to, too!
NaNo is a wonderful form of madness….
I’m sharing a snippet from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge project. This is a Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploring the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip. Oh, and the word “Kill” appears especially for our WIPpet Mistress, who earned it! =D
Last week, we time-traveled from the Suliban cell to the future. This week, we come back, to find Trip hiding in the corner, so that T’Pol can’t play with his hair…because that seems to get them both all hot and bothered (OK, at this point, pretty much everything does, but…).
Does it work? Does she follow him? Read on!
- Today is December 3, 2014.
- My simple math: 16 mostly short paragraphs: 12+3=15, and one added as a December treat (one shabbos candle; one star; one snowflake; one month to go till 2015, one confused human in a cell….your choice!)
- You also get the last paragraph from “About a Thousand Years Ago..”, bolded, for context.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and through my hair – damn, please don’t let her decide she needs to fix it again! Before she could, I whirled around and paced the three steps to the corner she’d gone to after that first kiss, about a thousand years ago, now…
It didn’t stop me wanting her, but it did mean I couldn’t touch her. I squeezed my eyes closed, as if that could help with the imprint she’d left on my brain, my body – my damned imagination..
I could almost feel her quivering, and her scent was thick in the little room, Her taste still lingered on my tongue, clean and spicily sweet, a little like honeyed ginger tea. “Gimme a minute or two….please.”
How the hell did she manage to be formal and sultry at the same time….? I gave up trying not to see her, and watched as she moved to the front of the cell. I remembered too late how much I enjoyed the rear view…damn, and damn again. This was a damn torture chamber – and torture had never felt so damned good…”Hey, T’Pol?
“Yes, Commander Tucker?”
“You don’t happen to be carrying a lockable door and a nice big comfy bed in one of your jacket pockets, do you?”
“That query is illogical.” She turned around to look at me, that little frown saying I’d confused her again.
“I know it is,” I told her. “I needed to think of something else. So, I can assume you’re not hiding a bed, right?”
“You may make that assumption, if you wish.” Her voice was as measured as if she was talking about the composition of water. But her eyes – those gorgeous eyes, their hazel hidden by dilated pupils – made a slow, sensual journey from the top of my head, where I swore I could feel her fingers in my hair and on my ears, to my throat, with her about to tug down my zipper, to – well – the part of my she’d ground herself against as though there was nothing else that mattered, in all the universe.
And, dammit, I was responding again, as if she was actually pressed against me – and her eyes glowed as she bit her lip. She looked straight into my eyes, and it was as intimate as though she was in my arms. “You’re an engineer,” she whispered huskily. “Couldn’t you- adapt – something that would – suffice?”
My body – or parts of it, anyway – sure as hell wanted me to tell her I could. So did most of my brain. I swallowed a whole damned Vulcan desert’s worth of parched air, and muttered under my breath, “If we’ve gotta stay in here much longer, it’s gonna kill me, I just know it.”
“Then perhaps, Commander, we should abandon the attempt to fashion a bed or a door, and instead focus on escape. It would be – most unfortunate, if you were to meet your demise before the end of your inaugural mission.”
I blushed, and tried to get something out – anything- but nothing came. How the hell had she heard me? What other stupid things had I said, and how many of those had she heard?
T’Pol began feeling along the edge of the force field, standing up on her toes and reaching high, emphasizing the strong lines and curves of her body, and I itched to pull her close, forget everything but how we felt together…
Sexy as hell. She was definitely gonna be the death of me.
And I didn’t think I was going to mind, at all.
After all this, are they really going to stage a jailbreak? Is there a comfy bed and a lockable door in their future? And just how good are T’Pol’s ears, anyway? Come back next week to find out more!