A Bad Day
Summary: Three small scene additions to Stigma. The day the Vulcan doctors on Dekendi III discover Sub-Commander T'Pol's illness was even more problematic than we saw on screen.
Author's Note: I stumbled upon a group of stories from spring 2007. You may have seen this one at some time in the past...
T'Pol sat in the mess hall sipping her tea and finishing her fruit salad. It was early and only three other crew were there. Two female crewmembers, Miller and Martin from security, were sitting some distance behind her. Based upon the topics of their conversation they must not have realized she could hear them. T'Pol often overheard private conversations as the Human crew underestimated her superior hearing. She decided early on not to let anyone know so as not to embarrass them or make them suspicious she was eavesdropping. She even ignored various disparaging comments directed at her.
She began to form the opinion not sharing this ability with the crew had been a mistake.
"So what'd you do then?" One of them asked the other with her voice barely above a whisper.
"Well, after I forced him into the corner, I started grinding against him while we kissed."
"I can't believe you did that... What if you got caught?"
T'Pol heard a soft snort and then a laugh. "It was after 0230 in a secondary storage locker. Who was going to catch us?" There was a brief pause and the story continued. "Anyway... After I could tell he was ready, I unzipped his uniform so I run my hands over his chest... Ohhh, if you could just feel it. He has perfect pecs."
T'Pol stabbed a piece of fruit and placed it in her mouth. The earlier subjects the two females discussed were offensive enough but now one of them was describing in graphic detail what sounded like a prelude to sexual intercourse.
"So anyway, I dropped down to my knees," T'Pol heard the story continue as she chewed the food.
"You don't mean?"
"Yes... I did..."
Any question T'Pol might have had as to what the female crewman did was quickly dispelled as she went into lurid detail describing the sex act she performed on her fellow male security officer. It was... repulsive.
"So what did you do with... you know?" the other asked when the storyteller indicated that her partner had ejaculated.
There was a brief pause as T'Pol waited to hear the response. "What do you think?"
"Ewwww... Yuck... I can't believe you did that." T'Pol was baffled as to what happened, but apparently the other understood and considered it offensive. Although what could be considered offensive, after listening to that story, was something that escaped T'Pol's understanding.
T'Pol heard another brief snort and a laugh. "I figured what the hell... My tour's over in a month and I'll be discharged."
"Didn't it taste awful?" T'Pol swallowed hard as she just realized what the second crewman found so offensive. She should have immediately figured it out. It was... logical... albeit disgusting.
"It wasn't all that bad... But I did get to the mess hall as soon as possible for coffee to get the taste out of my mouth... I figure at least I'll have a good story to tell."
T'Pol heard both of them laugh quietly. "Yeah, not too many people can say they've done that at Warp 4."
T'Pol looked down at what remained of her fruit salad and realized she was no longer hungry. She wondered if her judgment of Commander Tucker's various escapades had been too harsh. Compared to what she had just inadvertently overheard, his behavior was relatively modest.
T'Pol did not need to be subjected to this display. She had come to the mess hall to escape the Captain's judgment. Unfortunately that meant she was forced to stare as Doctor Phlox's wife, Feezal, deftly positioned herself to ensure frequent contact with Commander Tucker.
She had even been so bold as to run her hand over Mr. Tucker's buttocks before he had a chance to move out of the way.
T'Pol clenched her jaw and ground her teeth together. She could not believe the Commander had actually studied Denobulan mating rituals in detail. He frequently involved himself with various alien females they encountered, but always claimed innocence. His excuse was that he simply did not understand what he was getting himself into. Right now she had hard evidence his protestations were not genuine. The evidence before her was irrefutable.
He clearly knew that Denobulan marriages were not exclusive and took advantage of that knowledge to entice the doctor's wife. His behavior was an exact imitation of a Denobulan male according to what she learned in her xenobiology class. The male would place himself in close proximity to the female but would resist her physical advances. He would continue to remain close but fend off her frequent attempts to touch him until he sensed she was sufficiently aroused. At that point they would engage in any one of the multitude of ways Denobulans performed intercourse. Fortunately her class simply listed the total count and did not go into any more detail.
T'Pol clenched her fists together as Feezal rubbed her foot against the side of Mr. Tucker's leg. That meant she was getting close to peak arousal and soon the Commander would find out in... intimate detail... what had been left out of her xenobiology text on Denobulans.
She could not take it any longer. She stood up and exited the mess hall. Subjecting herself to Captain Archer's rants could not be any worse than witnessing Commander Tucker and Feezal engaged in a prelude to his exploration of Denobulan sexual practices.
T'Pol realized that in a few short hours, the only alien females Commander Tucker would have not engaged in sexual relations would be her, V'Lar and Liana. Given a bit more time, T'Pol was certain that Liana would not have been on that list.
T'Pol focused on Commander Tucker's eyes. They locked together and never wavered as she slowly maneuvered him into a secluded corner of main engineering. His deep blue eyes were so... alien... so interesting... so fascinating.
She could both hear and feel the steady throbbing of the Warp engine and she neared her... prey.
She ignored his stammering protests as she rubbed her hands along his strong chest and ground her pelvis against his. She pulled the zipper down on his uniform so she could reach into it and better... appreciate... his musculature. The muscles in his chest felt... perfect... against the palm of her hands as she gently rubbed across them.
But his chest was nothing more than a diversion from her ultimate target. He cooperated with her as she pulled the coveralls off his torso. After extracting his arms she sunk to her knees and moved in closer. She was now only a few centimeters away from him. A quick tug took his coveralls below his knees leaving him clothed in a single piece of tight fabric.
She heard him swallow hard while she studied the outline that formed in his briefs. He was as ready as she was. She reached across to the waistband so she could free him from the final confines of his clothes.
Just then T'Pol's eyes flew wide open and she sat up breathing hard in her bed.
Eventually she caught her breath through flared nostrils and looked around. She was all alone. It had been nothing more than a dream. It was so vivid, so real. The very tips of her ears were on fire and she was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her hair was damp and matted against her forehead.
Even after she caught her breath, she could feel her heart racing. Her top was damp and clung to her chest. She stood up and removed the pajamas. She needed to take a shower to cool down and get comfortable.
Clearly this was one of the worst possible days to forego meditation. She would have to rectify that mistake after the shower.
The End