Disclaimer: still don't own it
Tel-tor: Chapter 2
T'Pol stared at her reflection in the mirror looking for some physical evidence of last nights activities. She stood in the small bathroom attached to her quarters, ware she had fled as soon as she had awoken and untangled her body from Jonathons. He still lay there in her bed less then three meters away from her.
In the brief moment of confusion after waking she had seen the bite and scratch marks on his chest, and she suspected that there were similar marks on his back. However all that marred her own skin were three small round, olive colored bruises on the inside of her right arm. She could all to easily imagine them being made by Jonath-, no by Captain Archers fingers as he griped her bicep, trying to still her wild movements.
T'Pols memory of the previous night was hazy, but bits and pieces were starting to come back to her. The first thing she had remembered was the moment when Captain Archer had entered her quarters. The ebb and flow of desire that came with the pon far had left her almost coherent at the time; still she had at first thought him to be another hallucination. However as soon as his hand touched T'Pol's face she knew that he knew. He had come to her as the last resort, to extinguish the fire that was burning her up.
After that everything was blurred together, but she remembered the shock of feeling his cool flesh against her own fevered. T'Pol also clearly recalled the feeling when he had first entered her. To her unaccustomed body the invasion had felt like being pierced by a red-hot spike, excruciatingly pleasurable. Her last clear memory was of the moment of completion, a blinding supernova of sensation that had left her shaken and breathless. After that she must have fallen asleep, for she remembered nothing else until she had awoken half and hour ago.
When she had first looked into the mirror after escaping to the bathroom T'Pol had half expected to see the pattern of his hands burned into her skin, branding her. For she could still feel the touch of his hands and mouth on her body. It seemed strange that the only reminder of the night, apart from the bruises was a lingering soreness and stickiness between her thighs. The sudden thought of Jonathon's semen inside her body destroyed what little control T'Pol had been able to gather and she had to grip the counter top with both hands to support herself.
Her emotions were to close to the surface, the confusion of different feelings she was experiencing shook her with their intensity. She was horrified at the thought of having had sex with a human, relieved that her first Pon Far was over, guilty about her unabashed behavior of last night, and ashamed for not being able to suppress these emotions.
Logically she knew that it was only the neurotransmitters in her brain that had yet to return to normal levels, but it was new to her, feeling so much so freely. However until she was herself again she resolved to redouble her efforts to appear normal. That decided she began getting herself ready for the day ahead
* * *
Twenty minuets later T'Pol opened the bathroom door, having showered and changed into her uniform. She had been able to tell by his breathing, even from the other side of the door that Captain Archer was still asleep. Now with the light spilling out of the bathroom and across him the beauty of the scene struck her. He was lying on his back with the dark sheet tangled around his waist. The soft light from behind her highlighted the muscles of his arms and abdomen. The coarse hairs on his chest, that looked so strange to her but had felt so good against her skin, caught the light and shown gold. His face, usually full of expression and movement, was still and serene in sleep.
The question she had been avoiding until now forced itself to the front of T'Pol's mind, what would happen between her and Captain Archer now? It seemed impossible that they could return to their professional relationship after such physical and mental intimacy. If he had been a Vulcan as well they would have returned to their home world to have their wedding as soon as possible. This was not an option for the two of them either, yet T'Pol wasn't sure what other choices there were.
Finally she concluded that it was illogical to try to make any decisions without knowing Captain Archers intentions. The only possible course of action there for was to wait and take her cues from his behavior. T'Pol knew she would have to speak with him eventually but not now and not here. Not in this room that smelled of sex and Jonathon. She would wait for a more neutral setting. For now she would go to the mess hall, she wanted to be on the bridge early today; after all she had a lot of work to catch up on.
* * *
Jonathon Archer awoke from a restless sleep to a strange sense of loss. He knew he had dreamed and that something about the dream had been important. But even as he tried to recall what it had been the images and feelings faded away.
It was only then that Jonathon noticed that he was not in his own quarters. With that realization the events of the previous night came back to him in a rush. He had come to T'Pols quarters intent on saving her the only way he could, but instead he had been swept up in the passion that was consuming her. It had been the most intense experience of his life.
Now as he arose from the bed Jonathon looked around. Last night he hadn't noticed the state of T'Pols quarters and the disorder surprised him. Books and pads were scattered across the floor, a cloth hanging was ripped from its place on the wall, and the low table beside the far wall was overturned. He was not surprised to find that T'Pol was no longer here. She had probably left as soon as she had awoken intent on putting as much space as possible between them.
Glancing as the chronometer Jonathon found is was later then he had thought, he would have just enough time to shower and get a cup of coffee before he was due on the bridge. If he wanted to keep last nights activities secret from the rest crew showing up late would be a bad start. Oh well, hopefully T'Pol wouldn't mind if he used her shower.
Jonathon reflected on the events of the night before as he began to scrub himself clean. As soon as he had touched T'Pol something strange had happened. It was as if he had caught her fever, making him feel hot and flushed. Also he had felt restless, as if he was about to crawl out of his skin. But overwhelming it all had been desire for the woman in front of him, to claim her as his mate in a way that would keep all other men away. Nothing he had ever heard of even came close to describing that sudden eruption of need.
As he left the shower ten minuets later and begin to dry himself off Jonathon caught sight of his reflection in the mirror over the sink. His eyes were drawn to a bruise on his collarbone. It had already turned a rich purple but the impression of T'Pols teeth was still clearly visible. The sight of that mark gave him stab of male satisfaction, quickly suppressed. He reminded himself that last night T'Pol would have accepted anyone. She had no feelings for him; however much he wish it was otherwise. Still even as Jonathon thought this he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it.
Back in the bedroom Jonathon retrieved his uniform from were it lay just inside the door. It was wrinkled but clean enough to ware another day. His t-shirt and boxers were harder to locate. Eventually he found them wedged between the mattress and the wall, hidden by a fold of blanket. When he was once again dressed Jonathon was struck by an uncomfterble feeling. Suddenly it seemed wrong being in T'Pols quarters when she was not there. As he opened the door one more thought occurred, if he really didn't want to give the crew any cause of suspicion he'd better take the time to shave.
* * *
When Captain Archer arrived on the bridge, only a few minuets late, he was not surprised to see T'Pol already at her station. She didn't look up from the screen she was studying or give any indication that she had noticed his entrance.
Archer exchanged good mornings with the bridge crew before retreating into his office with the excuse of having reports to go over. When he entered he found sitting on the center of his desk, a pad containing the shift rotas for the next week. Usually T'Pol brought these schedules to him personally in the afternoon and they spent an hour or so going over them. It was a chance to informally discuss the performance of various crewmembers, and Captain Archer had come to value her opinions.
Today though it seemed T'Pol had arranged to be busy for their usual Wednesday meeting. That could only mean she was avoiding him. Jonathon dropped the pad on top of the stack on the corner of his desk with a sigh. This was beginning to seem likely it would become a very long day.
Tel-tor: Chapter 2
T'Pol stared at her reflection in the mirror looking for some physical evidence of last nights activities. She stood in the small bathroom attached to her quarters, ware she had fled as soon as she had awoken and untangled her body from Jonathons. He still lay there in her bed less then three meters away from her.
In the brief moment of confusion after waking she had seen the bite and scratch marks on his chest, and she suspected that there were similar marks on his back. However all that marred her own skin were three small round, olive colored bruises on the inside of her right arm. She could all to easily imagine them being made by Jonath-, no by Captain Archers fingers as he griped her bicep, trying to still her wild movements.
T'Pols memory of the previous night was hazy, but bits and pieces were starting to come back to her. The first thing she had remembered was the moment when Captain Archer had entered her quarters. The ebb and flow of desire that came with the pon far had left her almost coherent at the time; still she had at first thought him to be another hallucination. However as soon as his hand touched T'Pol's face she knew that he knew. He had come to her as the last resort, to extinguish the fire that was burning her up.
After that everything was blurred together, but she remembered the shock of feeling his cool flesh against her own fevered. T'Pol also clearly recalled the feeling when he had first entered her. To her unaccustomed body the invasion had felt like being pierced by a red-hot spike, excruciatingly pleasurable. Her last clear memory was of the moment of completion, a blinding supernova of sensation that had left her shaken and breathless. After that she must have fallen asleep, for she remembered nothing else until she had awoken half and hour ago.
When she had first looked into the mirror after escaping to the bathroom T'Pol had half expected to see the pattern of his hands burned into her skin, branding her. For she could still feel the touch of his hands and mouth on her body. It seemed strange that the only reminder of the night, apart from the bruises was a lingering soreness and stickiness between her thighs. The sudden thought of Jonathon's semen inside her body destroyed what little control T'Pol had been able to gather and she had to grip the counter top with both hands to support herself.
Her emotions were to close to the surface, the confusion of different feelings she was experiencing shook her with their intensity. She was horrified at the thought of having had sex with a human, relieved that her first Pon Far was over, guilty about her unabashed behavior of last night, and ashamed for not being able to suppress these emotions.
Logically she knew that it was only the neurotransmitters in her brain that had yet to return to normal levels, but it was new to her, feeling so much so freely. However until she was herself again she resolved to redouble her efforts to appear normal. That decided she began getting herself ready for the day ahead
* * *
Twenty minuets later T'Pol opened the bathroom door, having showered and changed into her uniform. She had been able to tell by his breathing, even from the other side of the door that Captain Archer was still asleep. Now with the light spilling out of the bathroom and across him the beauty of the scene struck her. He was lying on his back with the dark sheet tangled around his waist. The soft light from behind her highlighted the muscles of his arms and abdomen. The coarse hairs on his chest, that looked so strange to her but had felt so good against her skin, caught the light and shown gold. His face, usually full of expression and movement, was still and serene in sleep.
The question she had been avoiding until now forced itself to the front of T'Pol's mind, what would happen between her and Captain Archer now? It seemed impossible that they could return to their professional relationship after such physical and mental intimacy. If he had been a Vulcan as well they would have returned to their home world to have their wedding as soon as possible. This was not an option for the two of them either, yet T'Pol wasn't sure what other choices there were.
Finally she concluded that it was illogical to try to make any decisions without knowing Captain Archers intentions. The only possible course of action there for was to wait and take her cues from his behavior. T'Pol knew she would have to speak with him eventually but not now and not here. Not in this room that smelled of sex and Jonathon. She would wait for a more neutral setting. For now she would go to the mess hall, she wanted to be on the bridge early today; after all she had a lot of work to catch up on.
* * *
Jonathon Archer awoke from a restless sleep to a strange sense of loss. He knew he had dreamed and that something about the dream had been important. But even as he tried to recall what it had been the images and feelings faded away.
It was only then that Jonathon noticed that he was not in his own quarters. With that realization the events of the previous night came back to him in a rush. He had come to T'Pols quarters intent on saving her the only way he could, but instead he had been swept up in the passion that was consuming her. It had been the most intense experience of his life.
Now as he arose from the bed Jonathon looked around. Last night he hadn't noticed the state of T'Pols quarters and the disorder surprised him. Books and pads were scattered across the floor, a cloth hanging was ripped from its place on the wall, and the low table beside the far wall was overturned. He was not surprised to find that T'Pol was no longer here. She had probably left as soon as she had awoken intent on putting as much space as possible between them.
Glancing as the chronometer Jonathon found is was later then he had thought, he would have just enough time to shower and get a cup of coffee before he was due on the bridge. If he wanted to keep last nights activities secret from the rest crew showing up late would be a bad start. Oh well, hopefully T'Pol wouldn't mind if he used her shower.
Jonathon reflected on the events of the night before as he began to scrub himself clean. As soon as he had touched T'Pol something strange had happened. It was as if he had caught her fever, making him feel hot and flushed. Also he had felt restless, as if he was about to crawl out of his skin. But overwhelming it all had been desire for the woman in front of him, to claim her as his mate in a way that would keep all other men away. Nothing he had ever heard of even came close to describing that sudden eruption of need.
As he left the shower ten minuets later and begin to dry himself off Jonathon caught sight of his reflection in the mirror over the sink. His eyes were drawn to a bruise on his collarbone. It had already turned a rich purple but the impression of T'Pols teeth was still clearly visible. The sight of that mark gave him stab of male satisfaction, quickly suppressed. He reminded himself that last night T'Pol would have accepted anyone. She had no feelings for him; however much he wish it was otherwise. Still even as Jonathon thought this he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it.
Back in the bedroom Jonathon retrieved his uniform from were it lay just inside the door. It was wrinkled but clean enough to ware another day. His t-shirt and boxers were harder to locate. Eventually he found them wedged between the mattress and the wall, hidden by a fold of blanket. When he was once again dressed Jonathon was struck by an uncomfterble feeling. Suddenly it seemed wrong being in T'Pols quarters when she was not there. As he opened the door one more thought occurred, if he really didn't want to give the crew any cause of suspicion he'd better take the time to shave.
* * *
When Captain Archer arrived on the bridge, only a few minuets late, he was not surprised to see T'Pol already at her station. She didn't look up from the screen she was studying or give any indication that she had noticed his entrance.
Archer exchanged good mornings with the bridge crew before retreating into his office with the excuse of having reports to go over. When he entered he found sitting on the center of his desk, a pad containing the shift rotas for the next week. Usually T'Pol brought these schedules to him personally in the afternoon and they spent an hour or so going over them. It was a chance to informally discuss the performance of various crewmembers, and Captain Archer had come to value her opinions.
Today though it seemed T'Pol had arranged to be busy for their usual Wednesday meeting. That could only mean she was avoiding him. Jonathon dropped the pad on top of the stack on the corner of his desk with a sigh. This was beginning to seem likely it would become a very long day.