A to Z – the final blogging frontier…
Captain’s Log: April 14, 2016
These are the fan fiction voyages of the starship Enterprise (NX-01), the first Warp Five capable Terran craft. Humans are now able to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go….
I don’t own Enterprise or her crew. No monetary profit is gained from these stories. I just want to share my passion for these characters and their world.
Still using the timeline as it exists. This story occurs as a missing scene for Season One, Episode Six, “The Andorian Incident” (so spoilers for that episode). According to T’Pol, she has been on Enterprise for “nine weeks and four days”, at this point. So my best estimate is that this is mid-to-late June, 2151.
T’Pol, held hostage with Captain Archer, Commander Tucker, and a dozen Vulcan monks of the Monastery at P’Jem , is being trapped by hands that pin her down against a cold, hard stone floor…
If you enjoy today’s story, and want more, click on the title, and find a new frontier – what happens next!
Rated PG for very mild language, and the faintest hint of suggestiveness.
The stone floor was cold. Too cold. Cold, and hard.
T’Pol tried to rise.
Hands held her down. Strong Vulcan hands. She couldn’t free herself.
She struggled; the hands didn’t let go. Too many, holding her down against the cold hard stone –
“Hey, T’Pol, take it easy. You’re dreaming – do Vulcans have nightmares, cause this sure looks like one – ow!”
The force holding her down was flung away, and T’Pol sat up, the hands now gentle, one against her back and the other on her shoulder. She drew a deep, unrestricted breath, and registered a scent that soothed her lingering disorientation. “Com-” Her voice broke raspily, and she sagged, leaning in, letting him support her.
“That’s it, just rest a minute. Wherever you were, you’re not there anymore.”
“Cold stone. Hard. Hands – holding me down -” Had she meant to speak?
“Yeah, sorry about that. These floors do get mighty cold at night, and it wouldn’t be too much to ask that, if these blue fellas wanted us all in here, that they at least give us some mats to lay on. Didn’t mean to hold you down; I was just afraid your thrashing might hurt the Cap’n.”
She felt the engineer’s capable hands. Capable, but not strong enough to hold her, if she struggled. “Not you. Other hands – many hands?”
“Sounds like a helluva dream. No wonder you were fighting them.”
“Did I – injure Captain Archer?”
“Nope – he’s sleeping like a baby. So are the monks. Nobody awake but us chickens.”
“Chickens?” A shudder went through her; it was almost intolerably cold, sitting on the floor.
“Human slang. It means, ‘just the two of us’. Here, you wrestled your blanket, but I think it’ll forgive you, under the circumstances.” He attempted to tuck the blanket around her, but his hands were shaking.
“You are also cold, Commander.”
“No logic in denying it.” He smiled at her. “But I refuse to take a lady’s blanket, even if she has pointed ears, no grasp of chivalry, and orders me to. So please don’t.”
“Would you consent to – sharing?” She was uncertain about human behavior in such situations.
“You didn’t seem to be very happy about sharing with the Cap’n.”
“Captain Archer ordered me into close physical contact. I am a Vulcan; such actions are never an issue of command authority among us. We value – choice – in such matters.” Only when his scent shifted, his smile deepening into what she had heard Ensign Sato call a ‘grin’, did she know that she had made an error in judgment.
“So, you won’t cozy up to the Captain, but you will me, hmm? Should I take that as a compliment?”
“If you wish. My motives are perhaps simpler. We’re both awake, and cold. Moreover, you profess to be a ‘gentleman’; I choose to allow you this opportunity to prove it.”
That brought fascinating new changes to his demeanor; his scent was most agreeable. “Well, then, milady of the pointed ears, your challenge is accepted. And, just to prove that I mean what I say, I’m not going to leave you here shivering on the cold floor.” He released her, then unzipped the top of his jumpsuit.
“Hang on a minute.” He stripped off the shirt he wore beneath the uniform, then shrugged back into it and zipped it again. “It’s not much, but you need to be warm, and you’re wearing less than anyone else here.” He spread the shirt upon the floor. “A couple of centuries back, a gentleman would place his jacket over puddles so his lady’s slippers didn’t get wet. I guess a tunic on a cold stone floor fits the profile.”
“It wasn’t necessary.” The shirt smelled like him, and T’Pol found that comforting. “But it is appreciated.”
For an added treat, visit other blogs on the #atozchallenge roster. There is a huge diversity to choose from, and I think that’s something T’Pol would find most agreeable, indeed.
Because sometimes you just gotta be – BLUE!!!