A to Z – the final blogging frontier…
Captain’s Log: April 15, 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 is a missing scene immediately preceding Trip’s visit to Sickbay before going to T’Pol’s quarters in Season Three, Episode One, “The Xindi” Spoilers for this episode, and Season Two, Episode Twenty-Six, “The Expanse”. This story takes place sometime in June or July of 2153, as near as I can figure (accounting for about 13 weeks of travel to and into the Delphic Expanse.)
If you enjoy today’s story, and want more, click on the title, and find a new frontier – events surrounding this scene!
Rated PG-13 for mild language and suggestiveness.
T’Pol studies her face in the small mirror, attempting to surmise what he will see when he looks at her tonight. She appears nearly as tired as she feels; it has been a challenging day, beginning with Phlox’s revelation regarding the Commander’s insomnia, and his request, so casually expressed. But of course the Denobulan physician doesn’t know the import of what he asked, nor how conflicted she is by her own agreement.
Perhaps she should call Doctor Phlox, and explain that this deeply intimate practice is never engaged in between unbonded members of opposite genders. Perhaps it’s best to explain the inherent risks, and the intended purpose of neuropressure in the establishment and deepening of the pairbond, and as a prelude to sexual relations.
If he knew the significance of the practice, of its vital place in Vulcan culture, would he have asked her to do this thing? Would he advise her to abort the effort, and find some other means to help the engineer manage his grief?
And if he couldn’t?
Commander Tucker’s day was, by all accounts, far more challenging than her own, and compounded by the effects of grief and exhaustion. Perhaps, he won’t even notice her appearance. Nor should that matter to her, beyond the manner in which she might use it as a tool for his benefit, and Enterprise’s, and Earth’s.
The needs of the many….
T’Pol traces the upswept pinnae of her ears, and her fingertips begin to tremble. He is fascinated with her ears. He touched them, the first time they were in Decon together, and she had had to suppress the tremor. She wants him to touch her ears again. This is illogical; her ears will play no part in the neuropressure. She touched his neatly rounded ears that day, as well. Her fingertips yearn to do so again, to explore that which, even after years spent living among humans, is Other to her instincts regarding ears.
No. The respective shapes of their ears are irrelevant to her purposes.
The needs of the many outweigh the wants of the one.
And if she somehow damages him?
T’Pol picks up her lotion, and slathers it over her hands. She tells herself she’s desensitizing her fingertips; that it’s a necessary precaution. But she allows herself to take pleasure in the slip and tug of the lubricant, in her own touch. A small primal sound parts her lips, and her blood suffuses her face, bringing a new warmth, and a dusky tone. Would he find that appealing, or far too alien, a reminder that even their blood differs?
That is irrelevant. They need not have similar blood chemistry to share neuropressure. They need only mutual willingness, and access to the necessary skills.
She is accomplished at the practice. She had spent what time she wasn’t otherwise engaged in study of human anatomy. There didn’t seem to be any prohibitive differences, although many of the neural nodes were located slightly differently than their Vulcan counterparts, and she would require her full concentration, and an incremental learning process, to be certain of placement and response, which might be very different in such an emotionally undisciplined species.…
T’Pol finds herself standing by her comm, still caressing her own hands. Did she move here consciously? Does it matter? The fact that she is touching herself in a manner intended to stimulate arousal, is proof that she must recuse herself.
She can’t treat Commander Tucker if she isn’t in control of her own desires. She reaches for the speaker button, intending to call Phlox.
But she stops, staring at her own paired and trembling fingers. An instinctive response, as the touching was. Instinctive, and revealing.
Logically, she ought not touch him, simply because of how deeply she wants to touch him. How deeply she feels the desire to ease his pain, not for Enterprise, or Earth, or even for him.
She wants to help him because she can’t bear the thought of his suffering, the angry, wounded edge in his bearing, the distance and rage in his eyes, and the absence of his once familiar smiles and laughter.
The needs of the many are the want of the one.
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.