Author's Notes:
This series of drabbles are the writer's laboratory and playground - the exploration of the next chapters of "Highly Classified Mission."From these very sketchy beginnings a more cohesive story will eventually form. Thanks toBraxin, for conversation, support, patience, entertainment...and for prompt words (others came from other TnT fan friends)!
Prompt words:
fish tacos
Parthenon
tomatoes
Renaissance
green grass
starry starry night
machine gun
space
gelatinous
hemlock
salt
paprika
underworld
Trip falls into surreal delusions...or does he?
He and T'Pol are eating fish tacos in the crumbling remains of the Parthenon. Well, hers has no fish, but extra tomatoes and some kind of Vulcan bean.
Somehow, they're looking at Renaissance art while lying on green grass and staring up at a starry, starry night through the pillars.
The rat-a-tat of machine gun fire rings out – machine guns in space?!
T'Pol's flesh grows gelatinous, and she seasons hemlock with salt and paprika, then gulps it down before he can stop her.
"What the hell kind of underworld hell is this?"
Trip wakes up, alone in his quarters.