Best First Contact Ever Chapter 8: Best First Contact Ever 8, a startrek: enterprise fanfic

Best First Contact Ever - Chapter Eight

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Shuttlepod one zoomed toward the sphere, and the weapon, which housed it without delay. Fields, Malone, Hawkins and McKenzie chatted quietly, as T'Pol and Archer remained silent. The craft urged forward toward the large metallic sphere that loomed ominously before them, suspended in space. The twisted silver alloy melted together like an aluminum ball of twine. The struts that held the object together were weary with age, nearly rusting. And something about it reminded the humans of decay.

"If we could just find the door," Archer noted, glancing at the display in front of him at the helm, trying to study the structure.

T'Pol looked up from her monitor. "Captain, I see an opening. Bearing 7.4, mark 5."

Archer swung his fingers across the board. As the ship hovered near the location, the team could visually see an outer bay door -- securely closed and locked.

T'Pol furrowed her brow. "I can determine if there is a release code." Her fingers furiously tapped the keyboard in front of her.

Archer'd been able to target a similar locking mechanism before on a sphere, causing the bay doors to open. Unfortunately, he couldn't locate the bull's-eye this time. "What about blasting through the doors?" he asked.

"Unadvisable," she replied. She swept her thin fingers along the board. "One moment."

Suddenly, the bay doors began to creep open. Archer raised his eyebrows in surprise, turning around slightly. "How'd you do it?"

"I cracked their code."

Archer grinned, "I didn't realize you were a hacker."

"Their system is primitive – a base-7 security model."

Archer beamed and took the shuttlepod in, whispering, "T'Pol, can you locate a safe place to land … as close to the weapon as possible, but far away from life signs?" He hoped there was some semblance of a chance they wouldn't be detected.

A few buttons on her console bleeped and she agreed, "Yes. Bearing 5 mark 4.2."

The shuttle passed through struts and corridors inside the sphere. He took a pathway that seemed like a human vein, turning and bending from one smaller tube to another. It led to another hatch, which opened easily. As they made their way inside, the environment seemed to replicate that of a tropical rain forest. It was lush and overgrown. Archer set the pod down in a small clearing.

The team assembled, gathered their weapons, communicators and scanners and opened the hatch. Archer tiptoed out first, his phase pistol in hand -- raised near his jaw.

"This is obviously some sort of biosphere," she claimed waving her scanner in the air, two paces behind Archer. "Unusual that they would place the weapon here."

Archer shrugged, "I'm sure some scanners can't penetrate a metal hull."

Hawkins dropped his jaw, looking around the jungle, "I wonder why the Xindi chose this atmosphere."

"Perhaps this most closely mirrors their own planet," suggested T'Pol. Her scanner picked up the weapon easily. "Captain, the weapon is at 82 degrees by 55 degrees."

"Good. We'll stick with the plan to split into two teams – it'll be easier to get to the weapon that way." Archer called, "Fields and Malone, we're going to circle around to the North. T'Pol, take Martinez, Hawkins and McKenzie and circle around to the South. Whoever gets their first, detonate that weapon. Stay in communication contact as required." The team nodded, understanding their instructions. Archer looked over at T'Pol. He couldn't help but smirk at her. He was glad she insisted on coming. "Watch your back," he said to her.

"Of course," she replied, noting that it was impossible to watch one's own back.

Archer smiled, motioned to Fields and Malone and weaved through the jungle until he vanished out of sight.

The Vulcan felt a small pang of worry cross her brow. She chastised her emotion away and turned to the others. "This way," she instructed to McKenzie, Martinez and Hawkins.

The scurried through the rainforest, pushed through the overgrowth and remained alert. They'd run nearly two miles when T'Pol heard her scanner begin to beep. She glanced down, noting two bio-readings in the immediate vicinity – two non-human bio-signs. She decided to pick the pace, hoping that they hadn't been spotted, and ran faster toward the weapon. Her team lagged behind, unable to catch up.

"You're a damned fast," puffed Martinez loudly, attempting to catch up.

She slowed her pace slightly, still wanting to remain undetected. "I apologize."

"At least you're giving Esteban a run for his money," chided McKenzie, struggling to keep up.

Hawkins grinned following closely behind, completely out of breath. As T'Pol noted the red hue overtaking his face, her scanner lit up like a Christmas tree and she crouched down quickly. The MACOs followed suit as the Vulcan noted quietly three people were approaching.

They remained still and hidden in the thick foliage as whoever it was, got closer. T'Pol could barely pick up the traces of a conversation. She turned her head slightly, hoping to hear more of what they had to say.

A voice began in the middle of a sentence, "… No, it's something. They have to be around here somewhere."

"Obviously," replied another voice that sounded incredibly familiar. T'Pol analyzed it as he spoke again. "The Xindi are counting on them returning."

'Dralan,' she thought to herself.

Within an instant three more bio-signs blinked on her screen; more were on the way. T'Pol hesitated on determining the correct course of action. She did not want to reveal themselves, but was beginning to feel they were being sought out, and she knew a defensive position was always weaker than an offensive one. Also, if they did reveal themselves Archer and his team might have a better chance at finding the weapon and destroying it. Logic dictated she move with her team now.

T'Pol nodded to the MACOs. They peeked over the thick leaves and began firing on the well-armed aliens. Dralan ducked for cover immediately, as a close-range firefight began. Enterprise's crewmen had a slight advantage – they were already hidden and could pop shots off quickly and easily.

The MACOs practiced "prairie-dogging" looking up shooting and dodging for cover again. T'Pol mimicked some of these moments, but not in the precise way that the humans did. They were able to clip a few, as T'Pol began to try and circle around, as she'd seen Archer do several times before, to surprise them from behind.

As she crept toward them, shots fired entirely too close to her team. Martinez was nearly nailed with a blast, as he barely dodged out of the way. Hawkins, the best shooter of the group, was able to level five people single-handedly. Unfortunately, more and more Xindi and Benovulan reinforcements came, forcing the Vulcan to realize they were already becoming trapped.

As Martinez popped up to take a clear shot, a blast hit him in the back, sending the MACO squarely to the ground. T'Pol, diving for cover, was stunned at the death of the young man.

"Surrender," said a reptilian Xindi.

T'Pol weighed her options. Her scanner was filled with more troops heading in their direction. If they continued to fight, undoubtedly they'd loose their lives, but might distract the enemy so that Archer and his team could obliterate the weapon. Perhaps this firefight was enough. Suddenly, she saw McKenzie was already captured and decided their fate was sealed. The sub-commander reached her hands upward, as Dralan collected himself and walked forward. He gave a large smile and leered at T'Pol. Hawkins laid down his rifle and forced his hands upward.

"Sub-commander T'Pol," he said. "Well, this is good news." He eyed McKenzie and Hawkins and grinned, "And, the Xindi have a human male and female. It seems today everyone wins."

He grabbed T'Pol's chin as she defiantly looked over his shoulder. "I presume you will hand me over to the Xindi," she commented.

"The Xindi are more interested in the humans than you. For you? I have other arrangements."

"What are you going to do with us?" asked Hawkins, angrily.

A Reptilian Xindi struck the human's jaw without thought. "We're taking you back to camp. We need to research your species further."

"Do not harm my people," she claimed, eyeing Dralan, hoping he would speak up for her crewmen. "We can surely make other arrangements."

He grinned, knowing she was playing on his emotions. "I don't need to win your affections this way. I have other plans."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow as two Benovulan guards grabbed her arms and pushed the team toward their camp … where the Xindi weapon was housed.

As they reached the site, they noticed many of the same symbols and markings the Benovulans had on their planet. Rich brightly colored velvet tents were scattered inside the clearing. In juxtaposition to those were the Xindi tents, which were more militaristic – green, like the jungle, small and functional – definitely not opulent. Dralan walked into a large, plush red tent as T'Pol was forced behind him. She looked over her shoulder and noted Hawkins and McKenzie taken into one of the Xindi's in close proximity. Her brow furrowed thinking what would happen to her team.

"We can negotiate to release the humans," she said.

Dralan flung off his coat with a laugh, as his guards retreated and shut the flap behind her, leaving them alone. She noted the abode was lavishly decorated and creature comforts were visible everywhere; his room looked like it was more for entertainment than wartime strategy. Pillows were tossed all over the floor, acting as a bed. A tablecloth draped over a small table, with flowers and a crimson liquor garnishing it.

"Vulcans are quite strong," she warned, although she wasn't sure what she was threatening.

"I'm sure," he agreed. He unbuttoned the top two notches of his shirt and stared into T'Pol's eyes. "I have to admit, I've wanted you since I first saw you on Benovula."

She raised an eyebrow. Something in her stomach tickled with fear. She pushed the feeling down and remained stoic.

He smiled and said, "I thought you were quite beautiful … in fact you still are. Exceptional really." His eyes focused on her as a malicious grin made its way across his face. "I like exceptional things."

She took a deep breath, "My two crewmen …."

"There's nothing you can do for them. I'm just fortunate you accompanied them," he whispered. He removed the top from the decanter of the dark liquid and poured it into a glass. He swirled it in the air and breathed in the aroma. His lips curled around it and he drank deeply, beaming at the taste.

She folded her arms across her chest. He was obviously interested in her, personally, and it seemed little would distract him. She eyed the man's physique. He was not unattractive. He had dark curly hair and mysterious violet eyes. His skin was somewhat pale and his lips were dark, almost the color of the wine he sipped. But, his mannerisms and his behavior repelled her.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, holding up his glass, swirling the liquid in his hand.

"No," she replied. "There must be something, some trade or negotiation for my crew …"

Dralan took another sip and waved his jeweled hand in the air. "The humans destroy their planet sometime in the future. The Xindi want an opportunity to 'eliminate the humans first.' I believe your crewmen will be experimented on and then killed after they have served their usefulness. That's what happens in war."

"And what would you know of war, Dralan? As a councilmember, you were born into privilege."

"I was meant to rule. I have charisma, prestige …."

"Modesty? Your thirst for power is criminal. Although Councilwoman Larana seemed misguided, I believe she would be more interested in the people of Benovula."

"Criminal? No, it's my destiny. Besides, Larana doesn't have the instinct to choose her allies well."

"And you chose to ally yourself with a race that enslaved your own people?"

"Times change, T'Pol. But enough of politics." He closed the distance between them and ran his bony finger against her cheek. "Speaking of allies … I admire the Vulcans. I think your people and mine should join forces, don't you think?"

"Certainly not," she said, recoiling from his clammy touch.

"You should have a sip of this," he insisted, referring to his wine.

She backed away, prepared to use the Vulcan arts or a neck pinch to incapacitate him. Dralan called his guards in, who came bounding in and grabbed T'Pol. The councilman gave a simple nod as they forced her to the ground, knocking her knees against the pillows scattered on the floor. One grabbed her hair as the other forced her mouth open. He poured a large quantity of the mixture down her throat and smiled. She gulped it down hoping to breathe, but was tempted to spit it out.

'Barbaric,' she thought.

"I think our people will be allies before you know it," he whispered. "On my planet alliances start with marriage. I can think of no better companion." He eyed her noting she'd make a beautiful wife.

"Your people believe in many marriages," she noted, feeling the contents run through her system and causing her to feel lightheaded. As her dizziness passed, she slumped to the floor. The guards left her there, pooled on the ground and exited the room. Dralan thought about the delightful evening that was in store for him, knowing the Vulcan would become wrapped in his arms and begging him to consummate their … alliance.

He suggested, "You should change into something more appropriate and join me for dinner." He looked over her and said, "It's a pity I have business to attend to."

He crouched down and stroked her hair, as she turned away from his hand. "Don't worry. You'll be feeling more receptive in no time," he said and then marched away.

She tried to regain her composure, but felt deflated. Undoubtedly the councilman was more interested in her than she had supposed. A gown was thrown into the room as she contemplated her next move. She looked at it and with a near-frown, rubbing the silky fabric between her thumb and forefinger. Just touching the dress made her long for Dralan's crooked smile and dark features.

'It is taking effect already,' she confirmed to herself.

While conducting scientific research with Dr. Phlox, on her 'vacation,' she had the misfortune to encounter a pathogen that brought on symptoms of Pon Farr. She believed she was given the same elixir that had caused amorous feelings in the captain only days before.

The captain -- Jonathan.

Just thinking his name caused a chill to run along her spine. Her mind tried to focus on the mission, but she helplessly visualized the cleft in his chin, his brilliant green eyes and delicious lips.

She imagined those lips running down her neck and shivered, as she remembered their night together only a few days ago. A thin eyebrow shot up against her bangs as she decided it would be more appropriate to meditate.

***************************************

Archer, Malone and Fields had already staked out the perimeter, located the bio weapon and located a slight incline that enabled them to see the entire camp. They hid under the green leaves as Fields wiped away some sweat.

"I thought the Amazon was warm," noted Malone.

Archer nodded, zooming in with his binoculars. While they skulked around the perimeter, something about the encampment, in general, nagged at Archer. For starters, military strongholds never had lavish, velvet tents in colors that were easy to spot, certainly not the Reptilian Xindi. Another thing – he thought he'd recognized the symbols on the flaps of those velvet structures.

He looked at the markings and thought about his trip with T'Pol to Benovula. The idea lit his brain and he confirmed – Benovulan. Archer frowned; he'd bet money Dralan had something to do with this. The councilman seemed money and power hungry, finding and betraying the humans would satisfy him and that Machiavellian lust.

As Archer zoomed in, he spied the very man he'd thought was behind this – Dralan. He was coming out of a tent, with a ludicrous smile on his face. Jon raised his eyebrows and looked back at the scene, hoping to gather more information. Something about it stuck in his craw.

"The Benovulan councilman," he said aloud. The two MACOs scanned the perimeter as he set down the lenses and retrieved his communicator.

"Archer to T'Pol," he stated.

The communicator was unresponsive.

A furrow worked its way onto his forehead as he looked at Fields with concern. "Archer to Sub-commander T'Pol."

No answer.

Fields spoke up, "We're within communications range, sir."

"Archer to Hawkins," he said, knowing they gave the MACOs communicators earlier.

Nothing.

"Sir, I'm getting Vulcan bio-signs at heading 7.2, mark 9," noted Malone with concern.

Archer knew exactly where that was by pure instinct. She was in Dralan's tent. He checked his binoculars and noted the bearing. Sometimes a gut feeling was 100% accurate.

Malone noted, "I'm getting two human bio-signs from 7.2, mark 1."

"Two?" confirmed Archer.

Malone nodded, "Yes, sir. Only two."

Archer weighed in his mind the mission, versus saving his people. Actually, there wasn't much thought. As soon as Malone announced T'Pol was captive, his mind raced on ways to rescue her … as if his lover were being held, not his first officer. When Tom's next comment about the two MACOs was delivered, the mantle of captain slipped back over him. No doubt about it, he was going in after his men and try to figure out what had happened to the third.

"I want you two to get to the Xindi weapon. Wait for my signal before detonation. I'm going into camp."

"Yes, sir," they chimed in.

He bellied up to the ridge he was looking out over, peered into his binoculars one more time and scurried down toward the encampment, crouching low so as not to be detected. He set his sights on a Benovulan guard … one just about his height and weight … and took off.

***************************************

Strangely, T'Pol wanted to be appealing to Dralan for their dinner that night, and slipped out of her outfit, into the silky gown. She told herself she was changing to discourage the guards from forcing the dress on her. But, she realized it was mostly because of her fever – the need to mate, which was getting worse. Her thoughts drifted to Archer again, recalling their night of passion together. His hair was sweaty in her fingertips and his rough chin scraped against her cheek during their embrace. She recalled him whispering in her ear, hoarsely, urging her to ….

'Perhaps I should continue to meditate,' she thought, trying to vanquish Archer's image.

Dralan threw open the flap and grinned at the Vulcan, permitting his eyes to roam her body. "I see you changed. That's excellent. It seems my business concluded early. I didn't want you to be by yourself."

T'Pol glanced away. She was calling on willpower that was nearly bankrupt.

"I have nothing to say to you," she said, defiantly and to her dismay with emotion.

"The most difficult conquests are the most rewarding," he said, slithering up next to her, sitting on the pillows. He touched her shoulder as she jumped underneath his touch. She wasn't startled, on the contrary it felt soothing to her, and sensual. An eyebrow peaked as she scooted away.

"I know the drug is working," he commented. "I'd hoped maybe you had succumb to its affects already." He noticed pools of sweat gathered around her hairline and grinned. "Yes, I think it's working."

T'Pol realized she was staring at his lips and turned away.

He scooped his hand underneath her chin, bringing his mouth close to hers. "I can see in your eyes you want me." He ran a finger along her ear.

As their lips were about to touch, Archer slipped into the tent and furrowed his brow, coughing politely, his phase pistol drawn and pointed at Dralan.

"Captain?" asked Dralan, eyeing the man dressed in a Benovulan uniform.

Archer smiled. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he said, shooting the phase pistol at the councilman, stunning him.

Seeing Archer elevated T'Pol's hormones, exacerbating the problem. He held out a hand, hoping to help her up, instead, she dragged him on top of her unexpectedly.

"Did Dralan drug you?" asked the captain almost out of courtesy; she seemed a little … okay a lot … interested in him.

"Yes," she said, licking his throat. "I've been given the aphrodisiac."

As her tongue stroked his adam's apple, he hoarsely whispered, "We're getting you out of here." He attempted to stand up, but felt her rubbing against him.

"I need your help," she suggested.

Archer raised his eyebrows, knowing what kind of assistance she wanted. While he was affected by the drug, it was difficult for him not to touch her or think about her.

"I received a rather large … dose," she moaned. Indeed, she had determined Archer received a small drink, like a shot full of the liquid. She received easily three times the amount. Her hand began to caress his face.

He whispered, "T'Pol, I need you to focus. We have to rescue our people, but we only spotted two bio-signs."

Her mind seemed set on seducing him, as if she couldn't stop herself. During Pon Farr, Vulcans were rough with their mates. Their arousal reached near-fevered pitches, driving all logic from their orderly minds; T'Pol felt well on her way to that level of stimulation. Although she tried to fight it, Archer was too near to stop the madness from taking over her control. Her lips fought to capture his and she pulled him against her.

With something akin to annoyance he said, "T'Pol." Using her increased strength, she twisted her body until she was on top of him. A faint smile graced her lips as she forced his hands above his head.

She writhed against his body, stalking him like an animal. She seemed ready to pounce on him at any moment as she mumbled in Vulcan and kissed his neck. She grabbed his two fingers and wound hers around his, rubbing her knee against the inside of his thigh. Archer was beside himself, unable to stop her onslaught. He attempted to squirm out of her control, but realized she was stronger and had him pinned.

He whispered, "We've got to get to McKenzie, Martinez and Hawkins."

Her hands slithered down his chest as she whispered back half in English, and half in Vulcan, "Martinez soya'vala. McKenzie and Hawkins ne'meya Xindi." After divulging this information, she licked his lips.

He knew two of the MACOs were held by the Xindi, but wondered about the other. He urged, "I need you to tell me what soya'vala means."

"Dead," she whispered, nibbling on his ear.

He frowned. They all would be if she didn't stop her advancements.

"I'm sorry a'nara Martinez," she said, tenderly biting his jaw line.

He considered his options – stun T'Pol and continue, or give in to her as she had done for him. Option number two – giving in – seemed like a bad idea. They were in the middle of the Benovulan's camp, next to a stunned evil Benovulan councilman, they needed to destroy the weapon they had on this planet and rescue two crewman. She released his grasp and tugged on his Benovulan uniform, trying to cajole it off. He let his hands slowly move down toward his sides, when he suddenly grabbed his phase pistol, gave a quick glance at the setting and speedily attempted to fire.

Instead, she was able to capture his hand and force it from his grasp. He saw his defeat as his weapon was knocked out of arm's reach and the Vulcan was becoming more demanding. Maybe he would be forced to go with option number two.

He cooed into her ear, "Okay, you win." His lips pressed against her neck, biting tenderly.

She grabbed his hair wildly, causing him to wince in pain and arousal. His mouth captured hers as she arched into him. Her body temperature seemed well above normal, as her lips nearly scorched his when they touched. He nipped at her ear, she moaned. He parted her mouth with his tongue, she deepened the embrace. If things weren't so dire, he would've thought the whole thing was comical, especially her response to every advance he made. Every gesture from him caused her to pant. As she was lulled into submission, he rolled on top of her and aggressively held her arms over her head with his hands. She dove for his lips as he retrieved his phaser and fired.

Instead of seeing her slump against the pillows, she grabbed her shoulder, where he aimed, and frowned. "Why did you do that?" she growled, weakened and slightly disoriented.

Archer, after getting over the shock she wasn't out like a light, wished he had a third option worked out. "I had to. We've got to get the MACOs and get back to the shuttlepod." He scrambled to his feet, before she could make another move.

Having him on top of her felt glorious. The places on her neck where he'd kissed her were tingling and she wanted to feel that way again. She stood quickly and rubbed her hands on his chest.

"I thought you would've enjoyed my advances," she whispered.

He struggled within himself. Hell yeah he liked her advances, but he understood she was using the confession he'd given her last night against him. And he didn't like that at all.

Ignoring her he said, "Come on." He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the tent.

A guard had gathered on the outside of the tent and looked surprised to see the two. Archer tried to recover, "Apparently the councilman gave her the right to visit her comrades."

The guard smiled. "I knew he'd give into her."

T'Pol's eyes were dark and she gave a weak smirk in return. He watched her being dragged away, as the Vulcan looked over her shoulder with want, panting at the guard's desire for her. Archer rolled his eyes and felt a twinge of jealousy work its way up his spine.

As they neared the tent where the MACOs were being held, Jon whispered, "T'Pol, I need you to focus and follow my lead."

She nodded submissively, nuzzling his neck. "What will you give me?"

He furrowed his brow and tightened his grip on her, forcing her forward. The two came up to the tent as a Reptilian Xindi looked at the two and said, "What do you want?"

"Councilman Dralan has agreed to let her see her crewmen."

The Reptilian eyed the woman – sweating, dark eyed, green cheeks and pouty lips. Disgusted, he thought humanoids were fixated on sex. He gave a firm nod, but wanted to confirm it with the councilman himself. He retrieved a communications device.

Archer noted the movement with alarm and sped into the tent. He rushed to untie them as he tried to overlook their bruises and cuts.

"You okay?" he asked McKenzie.

"Yes, sir," she said, helping to free herself when her hands were untied.

T'Pol restrained her emotions long enough to help untie Hawkins.

"Thanks, ma'am," said the MACO, thinking the Vulcan looked a little worse for wear.

Archer opened up his communicator and said hastily into it, "Now."

A Reptilian hurried into the tent, wielding a large phase rifle. "I think you should stay where you are."

The team placed their hands in the air slowly when suddenly an explosion knocked them to the ground, sending all of them and their weapons sprawling. Hawkins climbed to his feet and grabbed the Reptilian's weapon, holding it to the Xindi's head.

Archer smiled, grabbed his phase pistol, snatched T'Pol's arm and ran out the door. The four sprinted toward the shuttle, dodging and weaving to avoid fire.

"Head for the jungle," shouted Archer. T'Pol slipped her hand in his, trying to keep her mind occupied on reaching the shuttle, rather than tackling the captain. But, with every step it became harder and harder. Her mind was wrecked with the idea of kissing him.

With the shuttle barely in sight, Jon felt a little better. He stopped to find out where Malone and Fields were, taking his hand from T'Pol's and placing it around his communicator.

"Archer to Fields," said the captain.

"We're on our way, sir," yelled Jack Fields, huffing into the device as if he was out of breath.

Archer felt an overwhelming sense of relief and placed his communicator back in his pocket, when he was shoved to the ground. T'Pol stalked over him.

"Please, Jonathan," she begged. She nibbled on his lips feverishly.

"We've got to get to the shuttle," he answered angrily, hoping that would needle her to get up.

"I know you want me," she said, walking her fingers across his "borrowed" Benovulan uniform.

"Stop it," he claimed. "Get off, that's an order, Sub-commander."

"Last night, you said you were in love with me," she whispered.

"Get off," he said, bucking to have her release him. He knew the Benovulans and Xindi were probably close.

"You said you wanted to be with me again. I would currently find that highly pleasurable. And, now's your opportunity," she told him.

He knew the drug was affecting her. She continued to writhe over him, teasing him to continue. The last statement stung a little – he took it to mean T'Pol would only be interested in him now, while being under the influence of the drug. Well, Archer had already decided it wouldn't happen. He couldn't let it.

He decided to play into it as a ruse. "I do want you," he confessed. "I do love you."

She was satisfied at his comments and took his lips in hers, moaning at the feeling of their mouths touching. He groaned a little in return, but did so more because she felt good than acting the part.

"And if you come with me to the shuttle, I'll do anything you want." He suckled her ear and repeated, "Anything."

"No, I need you now," she said, barely able to speak English. Her mind was reeling off phrases in Vulcan.

Jon sighed internally and said hoarsely in her ear, "If you come with me into that shuttle, I'll do anything you want and as many times as you want once we get back to Enterprise." He kissed her neck to sweeten the deal.

He could tell she was thinking it over. She still seemed unconvinced.

He added, "Besides, here it'll be over too quickly." He groaned against her lips and ran his hands through her hair. "I thought Vulcans were patient."

She furrowed her brow slightly, but pushed herself off of him, took his hand and ran toward the shuttle. Archer rolled his eyes. 'Thank God,' he thought. As they darted and weaved into the shuttle, Malone and Fields boarded.

"What took you so long?" asked Hawkins.

"Things were heating up a little," commented Archer, off-handedly. He jumped into the pilot's seat and took off. He began evasive maneuvers as the shuttle was fired upon. T'Pol's focus was completely gone. She stared at Jon and wiped the sweat off her brow without indicating what damage was done, where they were or how to get out.

Archer noticed McKenzie was in the jump seat as navigator.

"Status, McKenzie," requested Archer.

She viewed the information and said, "They hit our engines, but the damage seems minimal. Looks like our best bet is to head out at bearing 2.1, mark 6." Her head swiveled over to T'Pol who gazed wildly at the captain. The woman knew something was wrong, but decided to keep her mind on the tasks at hand.

The shuttlepod sped through the outer doors of the sphere and toward Enterprise.

"Enterprise to Shuttlepod One," asked Trip.

"Archer here."

"Shuttlebay doors are open for ya," claimed the Engineer.

"Thanks, Trip. Once we're docked get us outta here. I'm pretty sure the Xindi will call in reinforcements."

"Yes, sir."

"And, have Dr. Phlox meet us in the shuttlebay," he mentioned, looking over his shoulder at a Vulcan eyeing him suspiciously. "We have some folks who are wounded."

"Aye, sir. Tucker out."

That explanation satisfied her, but she couldn't help but gaze at him. Her face was drenched in sweat and her hormones were raging. She tried to preoccupy herself imaging the moment they returned to Enterprise, counting down the minutes.

As the shuttle landed in the bay, the crew climbed out. Archer, the first one out, grabbed Phlox's arm and said, "You know the antidote you developed a few days ago?"

Phlox smiled creepily. "Of course, Captain."

Archer said quietly, "T'Pol's been infected. I'll try to get her to Sickbay for a treatment."

"I thought you two had worked out a more convenient method to eliminate those effects," indicated Phlox with a hideous grin.

Archer frowned, as the rest of the team walked up the stairs and out of the shuttle. Phlox tended to Hawkins and McKenzie, scanning their injuries.

With relief he said, "I'm glad to see they're only superficial. Come with me to Sickbay." Phlox waddled off to Sickbay, with the MACOs in tow.

As T'Pol left the shuttle, her eyes focused on the captain. Her hand stroked the back of his Benovulan uniform as she whispered phrases in Vulcan. Archer swallowed deeply – she ogled him with incredible hunger and he wanted to offer himself up as blue plate special.

He held up two fingers, which she eagerly took – gasping at their touch. She suggestively twirled her fingers around his hand and ran them against his chin.

"Come here," he said hoarsely, aware they were drawing attention from his crewmen.

She pressed up against his body and he whispered, "Let's go."

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