It's All About the Journey...
One-Shot: Prelude to the episode Home. Ever wonder what the journey to Vulcan was like? A tiny glimpse into the last night of the trip.
Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are owned by CBS and Paramount.
Trip stood outside the door to T'Pol's quarters wearing only a worn tee shirt and plaid drawstring pajama pants. It was the fourth night of the their five day journey to Vulcan, and while Trip was enjoying the prospect of taking his shore leave on the planet he was getting a little tired of the platonic turn things had taken between him and T'Pol. And that had certainly not changed once they boarded the Vulcan convoy.
Of course, they were used to hiding their relationship, or whatever this was, aboard Enterprise, but at least there was the guise of neuro-pressure treatments as an excuse to spend time alone together though it had been awhile since they had engaged in any treatments. Now, on the Vulcan ship T'Pol had put a lockdown on the mere possibility and Trip knew it was unlikely to change when they arrived at her mother's home. And as a gentleman at heart he was not keen on the idea of initiating anything that might be considered improper while enjoying her mother's hospitality anyway.
So tonight was his last chance. When he knew most of the Vulcans aboard would be either sleeping or mediating he took the opportunity to sneak out of his room and down the hall to T'Pol's quarters.
After standing outside for an anxious thirty seconds, T'Pol opened the door. A flash of surprise crossed her features, but disappeared almost as quickly. She gave him a once over and when she espied his feet she saw that they were bare. Her eyes widened as she glanced from one end of the hallway to the other as she grabbed his arm dragging him inside.
Trip was grinning amusingly. And T'Pol found herself suppressing slight annoyance at his look of triumph. He had won this round. Of course T'Pol had seen his bare feet on more than one occasion and, in fact, much more of him so that was no surprise. However it was always in the privacy of their quarters and most times it had been out of necessity for their neuro-pressure treatments. It was true that neuro-pressure applied to the feet did nothing to aide sleep; however T'Pol felt it would have been quite illogical to expose Commander Tucker to only a partial application of the practice as she did nothing by halves and derived some pleasure in being thorough.
But now, after observing the amused look on his face, she had to admit it had been a clever gambit. No doubt Commander Tucker knew T'Pol would never have allowed him to stand outside her quarters for long in his present state of dress and would allowed him inside if only for the sake of maintaining the appearance of propriety. And as evidenced by his grin he was no doubt more than pleased that his gamble had paid off.
"Doesn't all this sneaking around make you feel like you're in high school again?" He took the opportunity to walk around her quarters admiring the Vulcan design aesthetic and craftsmanship of the exposed support struts.
"I wouldn't know. I've never attended high school," she said.
"Oh, you know what I mean," he said sounding mildly exasperated. "Don't you Vulcans ever break the rules?" He rounded on her and she watched as his tall, masculine frame moved to stand directly in front of her.
"I believe you could say we just did," she said as Commander Tucker leaned in closer. She felt her breath hitch in her throat as she anticipated his target and did not move away as he pressed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes as she leaned into the kiss. What was it about him that made her logic so uncertain? Trip pulled away almost too soon, and T'Pol was left unexpectedly unsatisfied.
"I've been wantin' to do that for four whole days now. Wasn't sure when I'd get another opportunity for a while," he said.
"And was it everything you had expected?" T'Pol asked she watched him sit down on the edge of her bed knees spread apart as he rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs. It had been some time since they had engaged in any sort of intimacy. He glanced up at her again. She was surprised to find she was more than curious to know the answer.
"More or less," he said grinning nonchalantly.
"More or less," she repeated. It was more a question than it was a statement for she was not exactly sure what it meant, but she suddenly had the illogical urge to kiss him again if it meant it would wipe that grin off his face.
"What's wrong, T'Pol, afraid you might be losing your touch?" He cocked an eyebrow and shot her a lop-sided grin. He was just teasing her now, and T'Pol walked over to stand between his legs, bare mid-drift before his face at eye level.
"That fear would be quite illogical," she said evenly. She noticed he stopped breathing for a moment, and she let herself bask in her silent triumph. She had won this round. He swallowed as he looked up at her. His eyes took on a soft almost hungry quality as he gently ran his fingers down her arms and over her sides before finally resting on the top of her hips.
"So, does this mean you might be up for a little neuro-pressure?" He asked expectantly, warm hands still on her waist.
"No, no I don't think so," she said as she pushed him onto his back on the bed before quickly following behind as he smiled into her kiss. This time it was a draw.
END
A/N: Not my usual, but just a little fluff I needed to clear out of my head while on break!