A Woman in His Life
Chapter Eighteen - Waves of Emotions
By Penmom
Author's Notes -- (1) Since this takes place beyond the present cannon - this is AU. (2) Thanks to those who logged in on Chapter 17, including maraschino, Dodie (I appreciate you kind words!), the ever faithful coldqueen, the ever faithful Lowenove. To EyeCandy and A. Windsor - glad you liked the rabbit comment! To Tracy-TheVeryPleasedCube - hope you have a Cubedchristmas! A big thanks to skye1974 for loving Malcolm. To KKGlinka - I appreciate your kind words about my AU and I'm planning to fix my mores - its been twenty years since I was in Sociology 101. And last but not least chrissie - I'm unsure of your question - Malcolm was in the hall in time to see Trip and T'Pol leaving her quarters after being hailed by the Doc and the Captain, it wasn't my intention to portray anything other that Mal seeing them leave together. (3) A Merry Christmas to All - hope to hear from you soon! I gotta go deck the halls some more.
They wait until the end of the service hours to head for the dining hall. T'Pol has some water and fruit in her quarters, even a secret stash of earth chocolate but both heartily agree. They are famished.
And so, despite the desire to stay curled up for a few more hours and despite the emotional fatigue brought on by the afternoon's weirdness in Sick Bay, they agree to get cleaned up and meet at 1900 hours.
Prompt as usual, she is standing regally in front of dining hall doors when he arrives, his hair still damp from a hasty shower. He can't help but grin. She stands there all calm and peaceful but he can feel the waves of emotions peeling off of her like flames whipping at his skin.
He comes to stand all of six inches from her, much closer than a respectful distance for officers. She must crane her neck a bit to look him in the eye. The grin is still on his face as he addresses her with a slight nod "Sub Commander, shall we?"
T'Pol's non-verbal response consists of an expression he has come to think of as her non-smile. While her beautiful lips manage to not move. Her nostrils flare a bit and her brows arch and her eyes, well, her eyes --- they sparkle like the stars out over the gulf on a winter's night.
Placing a hand on the small of her back, he steers her around, "After you, Darlin'."
@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#
Hoshi rises and waves to whoever has just walked into the dining hall. She is quite obviously gesturing for whoever it is to come and join them.
Great, Malcolm thinks. More participants for Hoshi's nightly round of what's up with Trip and T'Pol. The further they travel into the Expanse the more boredom and stress seem to fuel the crew's insatiable need for gossip and no pair has received more attention than the Captain's Second in Command and the Chief Engineer. Hell, he, himself, has engaged in several such rounds of good natured speculation with Hoshi. Although he would admit that he is just as drawn to Hoshi's merry smile as the goings-on between Trip and T'Pol.
Still, recalling his most recent strange encounters with the pair - he feels his appetite recede. The thought of whatever is really going on between the two and his inability to say anything about it to his usual confidantes make him a little sick. The whole thing was damned fishy if you asked him.
@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#
T'Pol stops in her tracks so fast that he damned near runs right into her. However, their connection sure does help a man know what a woman's thinking'. He looks up to see Hoshi --- and --- Travis and --- oh God, Malcolm. Great, just great. Lets' run the gauntlet tonight. He doesn't need to consult with her to know what she's gettin' at --- it would be prudent to join them. Not joining the group might seem suspicious and given the lengths that Jon has gone to just today to respect their privacy the least they could do was not stir the pot any more than necessary.
After the slight pause, she makes her way to the table with him a step or two behind. She halts next to Hoshi. Her hands clasped behind her back, she tries for the relaxed Vulcan posture verses the ramrod straight Vulcan posture. As far as he can tell there are only two - a and b. This is b. He sends up a silent prayer to the powers that be that as of yet he has not succumbed to the Vulcan talent of looking like you're in front of a firing squad nine times out of ten.
She nods and directs her gaze toward Hoshi, "Greetings, this evening."
Hoshi eyes are dancing brightly as she takes in T'Pol and him. She moves closer to Travis, making more room at the table, "Hi T'Pol. We've just gotten started; come sit with us."
T'Pol tilts her head slightly, "Thank you. I will join you. Excuse me while I gather my portions."
She moves off without a look back nor did she answer in the plural. Good girl, he thinks. Now Trip is standing there alone with both Travis and Hoshi looking up expectantly at him. Only Malcolm is playing with his food.
Oh Dear God, he hasn't really given much thought to Malcolm. It's like all these pieces snap together all at once. Damn, the joker's really got him by the balls --- he's witnessed Vulcanized Trip first hand, he's seen his altered bio scans - the same scans that came from T'Pol's quarters none the less! Great, and knowin' Malcolm, he's not gonna let it rest. At least Jon's order will hold him off a bit. Thank God.
Hoshi's sweet voice drags him up from his internal dialogue. "Well, Trip are you going to stand there all day or get some food? They've got sweet potato pie."
"Ahh, didn't realize --- course' I'm gonna eat."
@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#
And so for the second time today, they are at a table with Malcolm. Trip mentally counts off the other places he would rather to be --- with one in particular ahead of the rest. T'Pol has taken a seat next to Malcolm directly across from where he is sitting beside of Hoshi.
Hoshi and Travis are relating a story about two of the MACO soldiers while he sits shoveling in his mashed potatoes and roast beef. He feels like he hasn't eaten in a month but what a way to build up an appetite. The thought brings him to look over at T'Pol's plate. He notices that she has taken more than her usual share and for some reason the sight pleases him.
From T'Pol, Trip's gaze slides over to Malcolm. Malcolm. The guy is really under his skin today. And now he is sitting next to T'Pol. Looking so damned content after butting into his business today. As feelings of unrest, frustration and aggression begin to stir within him, Trip looses the train of conversation at the table. Slowly, his universe narrows to Malcolm and his sudden need to remove him from sitting next to his woman.
T'Pol feels the sudden increase in pheromones and emotions. Looking up from her salad, she catches the aggressive fire in his eyes. She realizes that she must move quickly if they are to avoid a second assault of the day on the Security Officer. And this one would not occur in the privacy of a deserted corridor.
She instinctively reaches out to Trip, covering one of his hands with her own. Making eye contact with him, she draws his attention away from Malcolm, away from his need to remove any male who could threaten his claim on her in any way - directly or indirectly.
"Charles. Charles, I feel your unrest. It is unnecessary. You know this to be true. Look inside."
Her voice has not only drawn Trip's attention but the attention of all of the other personnel at the table. T'Pol turns to address their audience but she does not take her hand away from Trip's own.
Again, she straightens and employs her most formal tone, "Commander Tucker is continuing to feel effects from his brain injury. Doctor Phlox has asked that I monitor his condition closely as he has prescribed a Vulcan treatment to address several of his symptoms." Something in her tone does not invite comment.
She continues as she stands pulling him up with her. "If you will excuse us." She takes care to make eye contact with each person until finally looking directly at Malcolm, she bows her head slightly, "Thank you."
As soon as the doors close behind them, not only their silent table but those around break out in heated conversation. --- Commander Tucker is still sick? What Vulcan treatment? Did she just touch him? Were they holding hands? Was he on duty today? Was she? What symptoms? And so it goes. Malcolm's head pounds with all the conjecture.
@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#
The walk back to her quarters seems to take forever - or longer. Trip's mind is a red haze. Only her touch guides him, keeps him grounded. In the turbo lift, she talks to him slowly but for the life of him he couldn't tell you what she is saying.
Finally, the door to her cabin slides shut and he falls on her like a madman. Pushing her up against the door, he pulls roughly at her garment as he devours her mouth, sucking at her full lips. Her hands help him in his quest and soon enough the offending barriers are out of the way.
The feel of her skin up against his own in the dark of her cabin, calms him a bit. He leans into her drawing in huge gulps of air. Her hands reach up to massage his tense neck muscles as he caresses the very tip of her sensitive ear with his tongue. For a moment, he manages to draw back a fraction of an inch.
"I --- I don't know what came over me just now. I just wanted to rip him apart for sittin' with you like that."
Pressing her forehead to his, she shakes her head, "It is something that I should have anticipated. Vulcan males in blood heat are highly possessive of their mates. They have been known to even kill during such times. I should have insisted that we take our meal in my quarters tonight."
Before she finishes speaking, he is driving into her. She is as ready for him as he is for her. She takes him easily relishing the aggression of his assault.
TBA
Chapter Eighteen - Waves of Emotions
By Penmom
Author's Notes -- (1) Since this takes place beyond the present cannon - this is AU. (2) Thanks to those who logged in on Chapter 17, including maraschino, Dodie (I appreciate you kind words!), the ever faithful coldqueen, the ever faithful Lowenove. To EyeCandy and A. Windsor - glad you liked the rabbit comment! To Tracy-TheVeryPleasedCube - hope you have a Cubedchristmas! A big thanks to skye1974 for loving Malcolm. To KKGlinka - I appreciate your kind words about my AU and I'm planning to fix my mores - its been twenty years since I was in Sociology 101. And last but not least chrissie - I'm unsure of your question - Malcolm was in the hall in time to see Trip and T'Pol leaving her quarters after being hailed by the Doc and the Captain, it wasn't my intention to portray anything other that Mal seeing them leave together. (3) A Merry Christmas to All - hope to hear from you soon! I gotta go deck the halls some more.
They wait until the end of the service hours to head for the dining hall. T'Pol has some water and fruit in her quarters, even a secret stash of earth chocolate but both heartily agree. They are famished.
And so, despite the desire to stay curled up for a few more hours and despite the emotional fatigue brought on by the afternoon's weirdness in Sick Bay, they agree to get cleaned up and meet at 1900 hours.
Prompt as usual, she is standing regally in front of dining hall doors when he arrives, his hair still damp from a hasty shower. He can't help but grin. She stands there all calm and peaceful but he can feel the waves of emotions peeling off of her like flames whipping at his skin.
He comes to stand all of six inches from her, much closer than a respectful distance for officers. She must crane her neck a bit to look him in the eye. The grin is still on his face as he addresses her with a slight nod "Sub Commander, shall we?"
T'Pol's non-verbal response consists of an expression he has come to think of as her non-smile. While her beautiful lips manage to not move. Her nostrils flare a bit and her brows arch and her eyes, well, her eyes --- they sparkle like the stars out over the gulf on a winter's night.
Placing a hand on the small of her back, he steers her around, "After you, Darlin'."
@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#
Hoshi rises and waves to whoever has just walked into the dining hall. She is quite obviously gesturing for whoever it is to come and join them.
Great, Malcolm thinks. More participants for Hoshi's nightly round of what's up with Trip and T'Pol. The further they travel into the Expanse the more boredom and stress seem to fuel the crew's insatiable need for gossip and no pair has received more attention than the Captain's Second in Command and the Chief Engineer. Hell, he, himself, has engaged in several such rounds of good natured speculation with Hoshi. Although he would admit that he is just as drawn to Hoshi's merry smile as the goings-on between Trip and T'Pol.
Still, recalling his most recent strange encounters with the pair - he feels his appetite recede. The thought of whatever is really going on between the two and his inability to say anything about it to his usual confidantes make him a little sick. The whole thing was damned fishy if you asked him.
@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#
T'Pol stops in her tracks so fast that he damned near runs right into her. However, their connection sure does help a man know what a woman's thinking'. He looks up to see Hoshi --- and --- Travis and --- oh God, Malcolm. Great, just great. Lets' run the gauntlet tonight. He doesn't need to consult with her to know what she's gettin' at --- it would be prudent to join them. Not joining the group might seem suspicious and given the lengths that Jon has gone to just today to respect their privacy the least they could do was not stir the pot any more than necessary.
After the slight pause, she makes her way to the table with him a step or two behind. She halts next to Hoshi. Her hands clasped behind her back, she tries for the relaxed Vulcan posture verses the ramrod straight Vulcan posture. As far as he can tell there are only two - a and b. This is b. He sends up a silent prayer to the powers that be that as of yet he has not succumbed to the Vulcan talent of looking like you're in front of a firing squad nine times out of ten.
She nods and directs her gaze toward Hoshi, "Greetings, this evening."
Hoshi eyes are dancing brightly as she takes in T'Pol and him. She moves closer to Travis, making more room at the table, "Hi T'Pol. We've just gotten started; come sit with us."
T'Pol tilts her head slightly, "Thank you. I will join you. Excuse me while I gather my portions."
She moves off without a look back nor did she answer in the plural. Good girl, he thinks. Now Trip is standing there alone with both Travis and Hoshi looking up expectantly at him. Only Malcolm is playing with his food.
Oh Dear God, he hasn't really given much thought to Malcolm. It's like all these pieces snap together all at once. Damn, the joker's really got him by the balls --- he's witnessed Vulcanized Trip first hand, he's seen his altered bio scans - the same scans that came from T'Pol's quarters none the less! Great, and knowin' Malcolm, he's not gonna let it rest. At least Jon's order will hold him off a bit. Thank God.
Hoshi's sweet voice drags him up from his internal dialogue. "Well, Trip are you going to stand there all day or get some food? They've got sweet potato pie."
"Ahh, didn't realize --- course' I'm gonna eat."
@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#
And so for the second time today, they are at a table with Malcolm. Trip mentally counts off the other places he would rather to be --- with one in particular ahead of the rest. T'Pol has taken a seat next to Malcolm directly across from where he is sitting beside of Hoshi.
Hoshi and Travis are relating a story about two of the MACO soldiers while he sits shoveling in his mashed potatoes and roast beef. He feels like he hasn't eaten in a month but what a way to build up an appetite. The thought brings him to look over at T'Pol's plate. He notices that she has taken more than her usual share and for some reason the sight pleases him.
From T'Pol, Trip's gaze slides over to Malcolm. Malcolm. The guy is really under his skin today. And now he is sitting next to T'Pol. Looking so damned content after butting into his business today. As feelings of unrest, frustration and aggression begin to stir within him, Trip looses the train of conversation at the table. Slowly, his universe narrows to Malcolm and his sudden need to remove him from sitting next to his woman.
T'Pol feels the sudden increase in pheromones and emotions. Looking up from her salad, she catches the aggressive fire in his eyes. She realizes that she must move quickly if they are to avoid a second assault of the day on the Security Officer. And this one would not occur in the privacy of a deserted corridor.
She instinctively reaches out to Trip, covering one of his hands with her own. Making eye contact with him, she draws his attention away from Malcolm, away from his need to remove any male who could threaten his claim on her in any way - directly or indirectly.
"Charles. Charles, I feel your unrest. It is unnecessary. You know this to be true. Look inside."
Her voice has not only drawn Trip's attention but the attention of all of the other personnel at the table. T'Pol turns to address their audience but she does not take her hand away from Trip's own.
Again, she straightens and employs her most formal tone, "Commander Tucker is continuing to feel effects from his brain injury. Doctor Phlox has asked that I monitor his condition closely as he has prescribed a Vulcan treatment to address several of his symptoms." Something in her tone does not invite comment.
She continues as she stands pulling him up with her. "If you will excuse us." She takes care to make eye contact with each person until finally looking directly at Malcolm, she bows her head slightly, "Thank you."
As soon as the doors close behind them, not only their silent table but those around break out in heated conversation. --- Commander Tucker is still sick? What Vulcan treatment? Did she just touch him? Were they holding hands? Was he on duty today? Was she? What symptoms? And so it goes. Malcolm's head pounds with all the conjecture.
@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#
The walk back to her quarters seems to take forever - or longer. Trip's mind is a red haze. Only her touch guides him, keeps him grounded. In the turbo lift, she talks to him slowly but for the life of him he couldn't tell you what she is saying.
Finally, the door to her cabin slides shut and he falls on her like a madman. Pushing her up against the door, he pulls roughly at her garment as he devours her mouth, sucking at her full lips. Her hands help him in his quest and soon enough the offending barriers are out of the way.
The feel of her skin up against his own in the dark of her cabin, calms him a bit. He leans into her drawing in huge gulps of air. Her hands reach up to massage his tense neck muscles as he caresses the very tip of her sensitive ear with his tongue. For a moment, he manages to draw back a fraction of an inch.
"I --- I don't know what came over me just now. I just wanted to rip him apart for sittin' with you like that."
Pressing her forehead to his, she shakes her head, "It is something that I should have anticipated. Vulcan males in blood heat are highly possessive of their mates. They have been known to even kill during such times. I should have insisted that we take our meal in my quarters tonight."
Before she finishes speaking, he is driving into her. She is as ready for him as he is for her. She takes him easily relishing the aggression of his assault.
TBA
