Title: Amplitude, Frequency, Wavelength
Author: nostalgia
Rated: PG
Codes: Tu/S, mild unrequited R/S
Summary: Sound
Notes: Chele challenged me to write a Tu/S in fifteen minutes. This
is the result.
Hoshi can hear every subtle vibration from the warp core, and it
makes her think of him. A reminder, simultaneously gentle and harsh.
When the ship gathers speed, she imagines she can hear his tension,
his triumph. She singles out the sounds that filter through from
engineering, listens through the swishing of air currents and the
almost-silent hum of the deflector.
Of course, it's just a crush, and he is not the most appropriate man
she could have chosen. She steals a glances across the bridge and
finds that Malcolm is staring at her, as usual.
She wishes Trip would look at her like that, she wishes he was the
one whose breathing quickened when she looked at him. His heartbeat
is never that loud, it never thunders the way Malcolm's does when
she brushes past him in a corridor.
So she takes what she can get, she listens, straining her ears. She
feels the vibrations in her inner ear as the engines power down, as
the impulse drive kicks in – a lower, less passionate frequency.
She thinks of him, and wonders if he will ever hear her.
Author: nostalgia
Rated: PG
Codes: Tu/S, mild unrequited R/S
Summary: Sound
Notes: Chele challenged me to write a Tu/S in fifteen minutes. This
is the result.
Hoshi can hear every subtle vibration from the warp core, and it
makes her think of him. A reminder, simultaneously gentle and harsh.
When the ship gathers speed, she imagines she can hear his tension,
his triumph. She singles out the sounds that filter through from
engineering, listens through the swishing of air currents and the
almost-silent hum of the deflector.
Of course, it's just a crush, and he is not the most appropriate man
she could have chosen. She steals a glances across the bridge and
finds that Malcolm is staring at her, as usual.
She wishes Trip would look at her like that, she wishes he was the
one whose breathing quickened when she looked at him. His heartbeat
is never that loud, it never thunders the way Malcolm's does when
she brushes past him in a corridor.
So she takes what she can get, she listens, straining her ears. She
feels the vibrations in her inner ear as the engines power down, as
the impulse drive kicks in – a lower, less passionate frequency.
She thinks of him, and wonders if he will ever hear her.
