Chapter 6

Ok, y'all, here's where the 'R' rating comes in (lovin' and language). Consider yourselves warned! 8^)

Disclaimer: See earlier chapters!

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The crammed shuttlepod was quiet for most of the ride down to the surface. The Captain had given the men their instructions—protect the female crew at all costs. That included being complete gentlemen until this was all over. Now they were silent, shifting uncomfortably in the alien clothes. Each man was distracted by the personal investment he felt for one of the female crewmembers.

The closer they got to the surface, the faster Trip's pulse ran. Frustration swirled inside of him, and he was having trouble thinking clearly. All he could think about was Hoshi. Was she safe? Would she be waiting for him? Even if she was, he had to refuse her—he just wasn't sure if he could or wanted to. A glance around the pod showed similar conflicts in each man's face.

As Travis prepared to land, Trip snapped—wrestling furiously with the open red shirt he was wearing. "Shit," he barked. "This thing is so damn small I can't even get it to wrap around my middle."

"I'm just glad the pants are somewhat comfortable," Malcolm said. Like Trip and the other crewmen, he was wearing the loose gray pants and open shirt that had been demanded by Larn. All of the shirts were either red or black; Malcolm was wearing black.

Trip glared over at him. "Yeah, well, they might be baggy, but that almost makes me feel worse. Nothin' but this drawstring holdin' 'em up."

Jon ignored them. As the shuttle settled on the ground, he said, "Ready?"

The crewmen nodded.

"Fine. Just follow my lead for now." Jon opened the hatch. After leaning out and looking around cautiously, he climbed outside.

Trip followed him. Outside, the humidity hit him like a solid wall; a fine sheen of moisture formed over his skin almost instantly. He stepped down into sand; as expected, he could hear an ocean nearby. They had arrived during this part of the planet's night. The surface was almost completely dark, except for a large glow to their left. The source was hidden behind the dunes of sand.

Trip moved to stand between Jon and Malcolm. They were watching the light. "Guess that's where we're headed," Trip said. Water was beading on his skin; apprehension pounded in his brain. Where the hell is Hoshi?

Jon nodded grimly and they all started walking over the sand. Trip and Jon led the way, with Malcolm and Travis only slightly behind, cautiously watching for possible attack. The other five crewmen followed carefully.

As they grew closer to the light source, Trip and Jon exchanged a look, and climbed the final dune. At the crest, they paused. The other men came up behind them, moving until they stood nine in a row, taking in the scene before them.

A large, perfect ellipse of sand had been flattened so that it resembled marble—completely solid and unforgiving. Scattered throughout the circle in a rolling pattern were small fires. Each individual fire would periodically flare—Trip thought it might be in a specific pattern, but the system was so elaborate that he wasn't certain. Beyond the circle, the ocean rolled in toward the beach.

The missing female crewmembers were in the midst of the fires. The women were clothed in translucent wraps of material of varying shades. A single length of cloth was wrapped around their upper bodies, winding round their necks and backs, crossing in the front to cover their chests. A similar style of wrapping formed snug, low-draped skirts that were secured by ornate pins just below their navels.

Trip's eyes sought Hoshi—he found her in the center, dressed in cloth that shimmered between red and purple. Her hair was loose, and it flew around her as she danced to music he couldn't hear, copying the sensual movements of the other women. Her skin glistened. His need to join her was almost overwhelming.

To his right, Trip felt Malcolm shift impatiently.

On his left, Jon breathed, "Trip…"

Dragging his eyes slowly away from Hoshi, he turned to look at the Captain. Jon was watching the sky. Trip turned his face upward. Enormous, multi-colored lights were appearing above the women, blinking into existence at an alarming rate. First dozens, then hundreds of them. Looking between the women and the sky, Trip could see that the lights were matching their movements to the women.

"Captain…" he said.

"I see it. And look around. There's no one else here. Where are the Rashila?"

"Sir," Malcolm said. "I think we might be looking at the Rashila."

Trip glanced up again, surprised. He exchanged a look with Jon, and asked, "What now?"

Jon looked at him. "I don't think we have any choice but to go down there. You all know your orders."

Jon leading, they started toward the circle, sliding in the sand.

Trip's body was flashing hot as he got closer to Hoshi. She gave no indication that she was aware of his presence. None of the women did.

The crewmen began to spread out. One moment Trip was hanging back, eyes on Hoshi, the next he found he had moved to stand almost opposite her position. At the edge of the ellipse, he paused. Hoshi's eyes suddenly met his, glimmering in the firelight. Momentarily her smile was for him. When she turned away, falling back into her silent dance, he felt the absence keenly. He stepped into the circle.

Instantly he heard drums throbbing, an almost impossibly fast beat. The sound assaulted him; he whipped his head around to the other men. Across the circle, Malcolm nodded to acknowledge that he heard it too.

Trip faced Hoshi again. She was still dancing, so fast that he wondered she hadn't exhausted herself. His eyes widened when she and T'Pol slid together briefly and used each other for support, arms brushing on skin.

Trip swallowed. I didn't know Hoshi could bend that way.

Still torn between reason and need, he glanced again at Jon on his left; the Captain's eyes were on T'Pol.

Above their heads, the dancing lights were moving so fast they were hard to distinguish. They started to swoop lower; soon they were winding in and out among the women.

Hoshi laughed as a pink sphere coiled around her, starting at one ankle and spiraling up her body until it slipped beyond her extended fingertips, blowing her hair out as it passed.

The women moved faster and faster, spinning, twisting together. Those damn drums, Trip thought. They were beating so hard he could feel his heart pound in time. And where the hell are they coming from?

Jon suddenly shouted out in a strangled voice, startling Trip. "LARN! I want to talk to you, dammit! We will NOT be a part of this ritual!"

In response, the balls of light began to expand the area they were occupying, moving to the edge of the circle to brush against the men. Trip's skin tingled everywhere they touched, but it was only a split-second sensation. After the first time, he barely noticed. He was only aware of Hoshi.

The music changed, slowing to a sensuous pulse in place of the pounding beat. The women separated, moving out in an ever-widening circle. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Jon, Trip felt his friend stiffen. Following Jon's gaze, he saw why—T'Pol was coming toward them very deliberately. Her eyes were fixed on Jon, gleaming possessively.

Uncomfortable, Trip turned away. He stood up straight when he saw Hoshi watching him, walking slowly in his direction. As she got closer, Trip forgot about his friend and took several steps back, trying to keep space between him and Hoshi.

Her stomach was completely exposed by her outfit. He could see the muscles move, drawing his eyes downward. He brought them back up quickly, embarrassed by his reaction to her.

She's not herself, he reminded himself firmly. She got close enough for him to catch her scent on the air. Damn.

"Dance with me, Charlie." She slipped around him, hair brushing about his body, touching his face as if it acted separately from her. He closed his eyes, jaw clenched. In his ear, she laughed. Her hands trailed over him, across his shoulders, down over his stomach. When they curved, lightly grasping, over his buttocks, his eyes popped open again.

"Stop it, Hoshi," he said, trying desperately to sound angry, bored, anything that wouldn't betray the images that were flitting through his mind.

She stopped curving around him. The drums still pounded out a rhythm. He looked over her head, conscious of the other male crewmembers.

Hoshi leaned into him, her body pressing into his from thigh to chest. His body temperature rose several degrees—along with a few other things. Hoshi laughed again.

Truly angry now, he glanced down into her face. The hair around her face was damp; so was the expansive amount of chest that her outfit revealed. Her lips, lifting in a smile, glistened red. And her gaze was fixed on his mouth. He swallowed again.

His mouth parted just slightly of its own accord. Hoshi moved her eyes back up to meet his. The smile fading, she said, very softly, "Please, Charlie."

His resolve was gone. He slammed his mouth down onto hers. She growled in the back of her throat, and he was shocked by the primal response he felt. He couldn't hold back; not even in front of all of these other people. He moved his hands everywhere, pushing aside her filmy clothes to get to the hot, damp skin underneath.

She had her own hands inside of his clothes, pushing his arms back while she yanked off the shirt. He resented the break in contact for even that second. When his arms were free again, Trip kissed her deeply, trying to force his way closer. He was pressing so hard he knew he had to be hurting her. Seeming to read his thoughts, she dug her nails into his back. He felt his flesh tear a little and pushed her down into the sand.

She gasped and pressed upward with her hips, wrapping her legs around him. His head was spinning with her scent, the texture of her skin and the sand. He tasted her neck, his lips moving lower while she pulled at his trousers.

"Commander!" Jon's voice snapped him back. He whipped his head around to blink at the Captain. Jon was doing a better job of avoiding his temptress. T'Pol was softly fingering the Captain's ears and face, making a purring sound as she pressed against him. Jon kept his head turned away, focusing on Trip.

"Trip, we can't do this. This isn't what they really want. We're all being controlled by an outside influence." He stared at Trip sternly. T'Pol whispered something to him; he closed his eyes briefly before looking back at the Commander. "Don't, Trip. That's an order."

"Aye, Cap'n." Trip nodded earnestly. Beyond Jon, he could see that the other crewmen were losing their own battles. "You're right," he added hoarsely. Aware all the time of Hoshi's heat, her legs around him. She moved against him; he closed his eyes and tried to ease back.

"No." She said it matter-of-factly. "He's wrong. This is what we need. It's what we want."

He moved away from her; she sat up and followed him. Without the heat of her body around him he was inexplicably cold, regardless of the humidity.

She leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm, her gaze just inches from his. "Come with me," she said. He shook his head a little, but he was completely entranced by her face. She touched the side of his face, so that he raised his eyes to hers. Her gaze was intense…but also familiar. She whispered, "I promise you, Charlie. I won't regret it later."

Hoshi kissed him then, not touching him anywhere else but his cheek. Her mouth was warm, soft, and she tasted of ocean salt.

He reminded himself of his duty.

She sighed a little in his mouth.

Fuck duty.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to her feet. They walked quickly across the dunes of sand, stumbling slightly, until they were out of range of Jon's voice calling after them.

Alone, they dropped back down into the sand. She smiled at him, and he returned her smile this time, before she pulled his mouth back to hers. In seconds he was panting with his need for her. He tore at her clothes and his own, their hands interfering with each other as they tried to eliminate that final barrier. He wanted to laugh at how clumsy they suddenly were, but then the clothes were gone and he forgot about laughing.

They both cried out at the feeling of each other. He kissed her again. He heard the ocean behind them and her breath coming in soft little moans. One of his hands was buried in sand; the other arm held her close to him, tightening against her body and in her hair. Hoshi touched him everywhere, alternating soft brushes with bruising holds.

When he finally felt her clench around him, gasping his name, he let go as well—his entire being focused just for a moment on the sensation pulsing through him.

As it ended, he breathed again and fell against her, trying half-heartedly not to crush her. Their bodies were both slippery with sweat. Burying his face against her neck, he gradually caught his breath. Her pulse, throbbing against his cheek, slowed.

Their skin was cooling and Trip's mind abruptly cleared. Instantly, he was terrified by his actions. When Hoshi was herself again, how would she forgive him for this? Trip raised his head and looked down at her. The sun was coming up now, and in the early gray light, he could see her features more clearly than ever.

There were tears in her eyes, startling him. Something felt different. "Hoshi?" he whispered. She smiled tremulously and looked away.

****

Jon called out to Trip, but it was obvious that the Commander had lost the battle. The other men seemed to have succumbed as well, most of them disappearing over the dunes with the women. Deciding to focus on the problem at hand, he looked down at T'Pol. Currently, she was rubbing her hand up and down his bare stomach, eyes fixed on his lips.

"Jonathan."

With that one word, Jon felt all his blood rush to his groin and his knees weaken.

This is not her.

Walking behind him, she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to the back of his neck, licking the sweat that was forming there. Wrapping her hands around his waist, she leaned her body into his. She nibbled lightly at his skin, holding tightly when he tried to break away.

"T'Pol. This is not what you want…"

"I can smell your arousal, Jonathan,"

"Stop calling me that." His frustration was becoming more and more evident in his voice. Yanking himself forward suddenly, he broke free of her grip and turned to face her.

"What would you like me to call you?" she murmured.

"Captain," he ground out.

She leaned forward almost but not quite pressing her lips to his. "Touch me, Captain."

Jon took a deep breath and held it, deliberately looking past her.

Taking his hand she pulled it up to her face. He glanced down. Looking him in the eye, she stuck her tongue out, tracing the palm. She carefully wrapped her mouth around his index finger, sucking. Jon let out his air with a puff and tried to pull away, but she held fast.

"T'Pol, please…" He said it with every last bit of resistance he had.

"Yes. Please."

Jon's will slowly gave way. He leaned into a kiss, crushing her to him. He pulled her tightly against his body, and felt her legs wrap around him. She opened her mouth and he pushed his tongue in, groaning at how hot she felt. She tasted like tea, honey and heat. He lifted his hand to her breast, and she purred into his mouth.

They collapsed into the sand, clutching each other. He rubbed his hands over her skin. She reached nimble fingers up, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. Jon almost shouted out loud when her hands caressed his chest.

"I ache for you," T'Pol whispered into his mouth.

Jon grunted because that was all he could manage. He was completely focused on her scorching heat.

Still, a nagging doubt was working in his mind.

He drug himself away from her, climbing heavily back to his feet. "T'Pol…we can't. We have to find out what's going on…speak to Larn."

T'Pol stood gracefully, pressing herself to him. "I know what's happening. It's what we've wanted…now there is no reason to fight." She attempted to kiss him, but he avoided her mouth.

She leaned back and looked into his eyes. Her lips were swelled, her cheeks flushed, and Jon was harder than he thought possible. She snagged his lower lip with her mouth and he groaned again. T'Pol draped herself around him, and he instinctively lifted her off of her feet. He began to walk with her wrapped around him toward the ocean.

At the water's edge, Jon stopped and kissed her hard, looking into her face. There was so much emotion there that he almost didn't recognize her.

What the hell? She smiled.

Jon tightened his grip around her waist. She ground her hips into his and he sucked in air. He waded out into the water. Kissing her violently, he threw them both into the ocean.

T'Pol sat up, sputtering water, and Jon crawled back to lie on the sand.

"Not like this, T'Pol. Not like this." He sighed and laid his head back in the sand, shivering in his wet clothes, in spite of the heat.

She struggled to her feet, knee deep in the water, and stared at him. Eyeing him carefully, she waded back to shore and knelt down beside him.

"I said no, T'Pol."

Instead of arguing, she looked over the water toward the sunrise, and slowly turned back around to Jon. She watched him quietly, not moving.

He sat up and scrutinized her face. The smile was gone, replaced with the woman he knew.

"It is over," she said flatly. Under his gaze, she ducked her head in a familiar gesture before meeting his eyes again.

Jon smiled. Internally, he was torn between relief and crushing disappointment.

"It's good to have you back, Subcommander." He stood up and offered his hand to her. After eyeing it cautiously, she took it and they walked back up the beach, hand in hand.

****

One by one, the couples made their way back to the circle in the faint light of dawn.

Trip and Hoshi walked together silently. They had made a few awkward attempts to talk while they dressed, but neither of them knew what to say.

When they returned, they found the Captain and Subcommander sitting side by side in the sand. Jon turned his gaze to them and they both flushed. Trip didn't know what to say, to anyone really. But seeing Hoshi's embarrassment, he took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. She gave him an odd look, but she didn't let go.

As the other crewmembers gathered, Trip looked around. Travis and Ensign Lourdes couldn't take their eyes off of each other, seeming unaware of the others on the beach with them. Malcolm looked solemn when he met Trip's eye. Then he blushed more ferociously than Hoshi and glanced away. He didn't appear to mind that Elizabeth was leaning against him.

Once everyone arrived, Jon stood up; T'Pol rising beside him.

"T'Pol has just been filling me in on our…situation," Jon said.

Trip glanced at Hoshi. She was watching the Captain, but without much anticipation. Trip realized she already knew what Jon was going to say.

Instead of the clarification Trip was expecting, Jon said, "Right now, I'm tired. Since it seems that we won't be seeing our new acquaintances again, I think it's time we went home. We can save the explanations for later."

Turning, Jon indicated for T'Pol to walk ahead of him. He didn't touch her, but his hand hovered near her elbow as the two of the climbed the first dune. The other crewmembers began to move in pairs toward the shuttlepods.

Trip knew he should be frustrated by Jon's avoidance. Instead he felt…spent. Without protest, he turned to look at Hoshi. She was watching him. When his gaze met hers, she gave his hand a firm squeeze.

Hand in hand, the two of them followed the rest of the group.

****