I don't believe in spoilers. I'd much rather wait for the show and be surprised than catch a sneak peek. I don't know how the bond is going to play out, and I don't want to. So, if you know, please keep any comments about whether or not I've gotten it right to yourself. All other comments are greatly appreciated as always :)

I'm a shipper at heart, and I always will be, so if you're looking for some meat to your story, you're looking in the wrong place. I would have liked to take more time, and actually build out a believable plot and some action, but I wanted to get this up before I found out that it doesn't fit with the plot created by the powers that be. Maybe if they don't develop it this week, I'll take some time to adjust the story. I actually won't, but I'd really like to believe that I might, so let's just leave it at that.

Disclaimer: Everyone/Everything belongs to Paramount, blah, blah. Don't sue, blah, blah.

Setting: Starts out prior to Bound and wraps up after.

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"I'm merely stating that you shouldn't have been touching it in the first place."

"Great, just great," Trip thought, sighing deeply as he hung his head. "Not only does she think I'm a complete idiot – which I am – but now I'm stuck in…" His head snapped back up and he only barely managed to stifle a gasp as her hand smoothed the thick gel across his lower back. His body betrayed his attempt at nonchalance though, as goose pimples sprang up at her touch.

"Maybe she'll think I'm cold," he thought miserably, trying to ignore the warmth of the glowing blue tubes that crossed the entire room. "Right," he thought wryly, "she'll buy that…The gel. Maybe she'll think the gel is too cold."

"Is the gel too cold?" she asked. Trip was trying so hard not to sigh in relief that he barely noticed the concern in her voice. He thought vaguely that it had an odd note of confusion to it.

"I'd have never even picked up the damn thing if I hadn't been trying to ignore her walking into sickbay. What the hell is the doc doing leaving something like that lying around for, anyway?" At least it had only sprayed her front, so he wouldn't have to touch her. The stuff had puffed up like a cloud and descended right over him, though. This time he did sigh, but it was mercifully covered by the sound of the viewing portal sliding open.

T'Pol glanced over with mild interest, Trip with vague apprehension.

"Another twenty minutes should do the trick," Phlox said pleasantly.

"Twenty minutes!" Trip yelped.

"That was a very nasty strain of fungus you dropped, Commander Tucker," he replied, mildly reproachful. He seemed to become more aware of Trip's plight and growing unease, because he said more mildly, "I'm sure you'll be more careful of what you touch in sickbay in the future." Trip rolled his eyes up, knowing T'Pol was thinking she'd told him as much. Smiling, Phlox closed the slot, leaving them alone again. The soft noise sounded to Trip's ears more like the iron door of an ancient cell slamming shut.

"She's going to get on me again," Trip thought. He tried to concentrate on that idea, hoping it would make him angry or at least keep him distracted for just a few more minutes. "God, how many layers of that stuff is she going to put on?" It seemed as though she'd made a dozen passes over his back already. Slow passes. Those soft hands of hers gently skimming over his skin, pressing just enough to smooth away tension as she coated his shoulders with moist, cool…"God, I've got to get out of here…think about something else…think about…What did she just say?" He pulled his head up. It had somehow sagged forward again.

What she'd said was, "The doctor was adamant that a good layer of gel be applied." Trip might have noticed that she almost sounded defensive, if he hadn't been so bent on not thinking about what she was doing to him. About how much he didn't want her to stop. About how much he…"Oh, God," managed to run through his brain. A small part of him realized he was probably supposed to have responded to whatever she'd just said. He grunted non-committedly, just be on the safe side.

"Our time would probably pass more quickly with some sort of conversation," she said archly. "Something more engaging than guttural noises, perhaps."

"What exactly would you like me to say?" he responded loudly, instantly on the defensive. He was itching for a fight. He swung to face her, his muscles suddenly rigid again.

"You've been uncommunicative since you returned to Enterprise."

"No I haven't," he snapped, "Ask Malcolm. Ask anybody. Sure, I'm concentrating on doing my job and getting back to Columbia, that doesn't mean I don't take time to talk to my old crew."

"Perhaps it's just me, that you're not speaking to," she said, her back stiffening as he glared down at her.

"Well, maybe I don't have anything to say to you," he replied. His drawl was slipping out more, and he moved in closer, eyes flashing as he leaned in towards her face. He tried not to notice how much the whole thing reminded him of their first time alone in this chamber, their first fight. Trip took a deep breath, preparing for a good shout so he wouldn't think about why he liked fighting with her.

Just then, the view port slid open again. "Time's up," the doctor sang. "It seems you're done early after all." He watched as his two patients continued to face off, both jaws set firmly as two sets of eyes bored into one another.

Trip swung on his heel, smacked the door switch, and grabbed his clothes as he stalked out. He stopped long enough behind a screen to throw them on before he left sickbay, trying to control the urge to run.

It had been a long week, but the repairs to the engine were almost complete. "Just a few more days," he told himself, "A few more days and I'll get back to Columbia, and back across the galaxy where I won't have to see her every day." He snorted quietly to himself. He'd already tried that, and it didn't seem to have done much good. Every time he'd thought he'd put her out of his head, she'd pop right in again. Like those weird day dreams in the white room. What was up with that? Her meditation area, her dream self had told him. "Yeah, I guess that is the kind of place she'd go for. Don't know how I ever came up with it. I really would have thought she'd prefer the desert or the beach." Shaking his head, he moved on to his quarters.