It’s the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Sign up below with your name, blog and email and share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Your post needs to be live between 12:00 noon on Saturday and 9:00 AM on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their #8sunday posts.
It’s a second chance to share a small snippet of my current writing. Most weeks, I tie them back to my WIPpet Wednesday post, so reading both can give a deeper peek…
This ten-sentence snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet Wednesday post, “Eat Up”.*
Before you read on, a disclaimer:
T‘Pol, Trip, and Captain Archer are not my creations, nor my property. They contend that they belong to themselves, and, if people are going to tell their stories, they should at least tell them properly…
* I missed last Sunday due to camping without internet, so here’s the link to my July 29 WIPpet, “All Perfectly Normal”, for context.
Captain Jonathan Archer has interrupted a standoff between Trip and T’Pol, with a chair as the battlefield. He has to work hard at not noticing all the little ways the engineer offers the Vulcan woman comfort, and how willingly she accepts the gestures – publicly. Now, Jon’s ordered the recalcitrant and finally seated First Officer to eat her breakfast…
“You Missed My Boots”
T’Pol said a single word, softly, in Vulcan. She placed the spoon to her lips, but didn’t open her mouth, or even seem to be breathing.
Jon waited for a five count, watching her, then said, “We’ll get started as soon as you’ve finished your plomeek broth, T’Pol.”
Her lips parted just enough to allow the tip of the spoon into her mouth.
Trip started out from behind the First Officer’s chair like he was her protector. “Cap’n, I don’t think it’s a good idea to try to make her -”
T’Pol lurched up, her face pale and panicked, and clutched the display table, swaying. Her cup shattered on the deck plating, splashing hot liquid on Trip, who ignored it and grabbed T’Pol just as her knees gave out. She made a strangled, retching moan, and her stomach jettisoned its contents in a spewing gush of thin clear liquid that doused both the engineer and the table in a bilious mess.
Trip gathered the still-heaving Vulcan into his arms, and whispered, “You missed my boots, pepperpot, so I guess we still aren’t even.”
Did the broth make T’Pol sick?
Are Trip’s boots really safe?
Will Jon notice this?
Will he ever again order T’Pol to eat?
And what does Trip mean, they still aren’t even?
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