So Many Plans
Coming out of the shower, T'Pol deferred clothing herself in favor of inspecting the healing process of her injured leg. The dark green bruises were almost gone, and according to Phlox continued application of the less-than-agreeable-smelling ointment would render them invisible by the next day. After renewing her nasal numbing agent she started to anoint the affected areas: the leg, the hip, the right arm, the side of her right breast and her temple. Thankfully the captain had granted her request to be left alone in her quarters for at least forty-eight hours – ostensibly to grieve in solitude.
The true reason for her seclusion was that she did not wish to interact with any of her crew mates while the katra of her mother still resided in her mind. Additionally, her wish not to soil any of her garments with the foul-smelling medicine made it imperative that she spent at least thirty minutes after renewing the coating over her bruises without clothes until the substance had soaked into her skin. She felt grateful that Commander Tucker had evidently spent some of the time after his premature departure from Vulcan after her forced wedding in fulfilling his earlier promise to adjust the temperature controls. Now that she could set the room temperature closer to Vulcan norm, she could spend the waiting time without being cold despite the absence of any attire.
After lighting the meditation candle she sat down and soon found herself in the white space of her mind, where her mother was already in meditation. This was, obviously, rudely interrupted by her arrival.
"Child!" her mother's image gasped, scandalized by her daughter's nude form.
Rolling her eyes in exasperation at her own forgetfulness, T'Pol concentrated on modifying her mental image and appropriate attire appeared, covering her body.
"I apologize, Mother."
"You seem to have grown quite used to this unseemly state of undress."
"Mother, you left your body only yesterday. Surely you have not yet forgotten that divesting oneself of one's clothing is not entirely preventable in life."
"You, however, seem to do so purely to amuse yourself," her mother's katra admonished her. "I am sure Commander Tucker will appreciate this new-found habit of yours."
At hearing his name T'Pol grew wistful and did not provide a reply to her mother's provocation.
"I do not understand your hesitation, T'Pol. Considering how long Commander Tucker has endured your indecisiveness and your constant rejections – and still does – I see no reason why he would refuse you, now that you have finally been released from your marriage."
"He is not someone who is satisfied being the second choice. I should have contested the marriage instead of breaking his heart."
"He did not seem to be in cardiovascular distress after your wedding."
"It is a human metaphor, Mother," she said rolling her eyes again. "I brought pain and despair to his mind when I married another man before his eyes, knowing how strong his affection for me is. His willingness to endure it for my sake only shames me more, as in retrospect he offered a completely useless sacrifice."
"Yet you wish nothing more than that he disregards your captain's order and comes to your quarters and sees you in your current state of undress."
T'Pol gasped. "Mother, I would prefer if you forewent commenting on my most intimate thoughts. It is unnerving enough that I cannot hide them from you."
"Do not be frustrated, Daughter. In the morning my katra will be retired to a katric arc. Until then it is just as well that I belatedly do my duty of educating you in intimate matters. I had always shirked this responsibility, hoping that your immense curiosity would lead you to find your own answers."
"Mother, you know my memories. You know that I already have practical experience in intimate matters. I doubt I need a theoretical refresher course."
For the first time in her life T'Pol heard her mother snort sarcastically. It was only her mental image of TLes's katra, but the emotion was real enough.
"T'Pol, you barely managed to perform the mechanical basics of the act without injuring yourself or your partner. Your encounter with Commander Tucker was supremely dissatisfying for both of you, since you held on to your emotional control in fear of what would happen if you did not."
"And that is wrong?"
"Let me explain why your father and I had a most satisfying intimate life."
"Please do not be too detailed, mother," T'Pol requested hastily, as her mother's katra started her lecture.
=/\=
"You wanted to see me Cap'n?"
Trip sat down in the Captain's Mess where Hoshi was already waiting. He exchanged a look with her, but the ensign's shrug told him that she also had no clue what the captain wanted.
"Both of you will spend the next four weeks on Vulcan," the captain said.
Trip flinched at the mention of an extended stay on Vulcan. Its nature as a desert planet was enough of a deterrent to any wish to stay there, even if he had no other. Whenever their mission had brought them to a desert he had returned to the ship half-dead. Last time there had been at least a good reason to risk his life; that was, of course, until that very same reason told him that she was going to marry another guy. Since that day, the only thing he associated with the planet was heartbreak – unspeakably painful heartbreak. Not that he could tell the captain that.
"I wouldn't mind a bit of downtime, Cap'n," he responded, cautiously blending dutiful obedience with due lack of enthusiasm – Jon would certainly not expect him to be keen on the idea. "But Vulcan isn't exactly my idea of a holiday resort."
"It won't be a holiday, Trip. You'll both be on official business. Minister T'Pau requested Hoshi's help in translating the Kir'Shara to Human Standard and offers a visit to the monastery on Mount Seleya. Apparently they have caves and scrolls that are more than three thousand years old."
Trip grinned in spite of himself when he saw Hoshi's enthusiastic smile. When it came to studying ancient images and texts, wild horses couldn't stop the young linguist. He looked at the captain to learn about his own assignment.
"You, Trip, will go on a busman's holiday. The Vulcan science academy has requested your help to build a historic airplane and don't ask me why. They just did."
The engineer's grin became a little more genuine. "Well, who cares why? It's important that they do. And since they probably don't have any pilots with that kind of trainin' and I don't see Travis in here either, I guess I get to fly it as well."
"That's what they were hoping for. I told them you have experience in hand-flying."
Trip rubbed his hands together in glee. He heard the Captain ask Hoshi to leave, and the young officer left with a spring in her step about the upcoming assignment.
"She's happy as a clam at high tide," Trip said with a grin. The captain nodded in amusement.
"Trip, I'm also sending down T'Pol with the two of you. She's been away for years except that short visit four months ago and I suppose she'll have some things to get sorted after her mother's death. I'd also be more relaxed knowing that you and Hoshi have someone with you who knows her way around the place."
The news destroyed Trip's momentary elation about the airplane project. His vision swam as he was hit by a bout of nausea. He had believed T'Pol when she had told him that she left a contrail right after the ceremony and that this Koss guy didn't even get a wedding night, though he'd tried not to examine too closely his own unworthy joy at the news. But there was no chance in the world she could avoid the guy for four weeks.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Cap'n. What if that husband of hers..."
His objection was interrupted by a widely grinning captain.
"T'Pol was released from her marriage shortly after she came back to the ship."
=/\=
Jon wanted to double over in laughter as he saw Trip perform a remarkably lifelike fish impersonation. His mouth moved, but no words came out for quite a while.
"That real, Cap'n? She got a divorce?"
"As far as I understood, it was annulled, meaning technically she never was married."
"That's great. She couldn't stand the guy anyway."
Jon waited until Trip would realize that neither an agreement nor disagreement was forthcoming. He met the questioning glance of his chief engineer.
"Trip, there is another reason why I want to send her home for a while. She has no siblings, her mother just died and however involuntary that marriage was, her husband just dumped her. She's completely alone. T'Pol needs to reconnect with her clan, or better yet – reconnect with the one guy she really wanted in the first place."
"Oh?"
Jon thought to himself that Trip was completely hopeless at faking surprise.
"Trip. Who do you think you've been kidding? I saw you come back from Vulcan as sick as a dog. It was me who hauled your carcass to sickbay after you tried to drink yourself into a coma."
He waved off Trip's muttered apology, and continued.
"I don't know if it'll finally work out between the two of you. But I want you to have a chance to try. And I reckon T'Pol will be less reluctant to let go of her doubts if she's in an environment that she feels comfortable in."
"As much as I would like it if you're right, Jon," Trip said – and it was good to hear him use his first name again after a long time – "she's got other things on her mind right now. Her mother just died. I'll be the last person she wants to deal with right now. And don't forget that you just barged into the High Command with an artifact that says everything she's learned all her life has been corrupt."
Jon smiled. Even if one tried to encourage Trip, T'Pol's well-being was the most important thing on his mind. He doubted his science officer had any idea what sort of catch she was spurning if she didn't fork him to the plate soon.
"Trip, her mother didn't really die. Yes, her organs have stopped to function and biologically she's dead, but in her dying moments T'Les mind-melded with T'Pol. Her katra is in T'Pol's head now and will be transferred to a katric arc by a priest tomorrow."
Trip started to piece the bits together. Word was that Jon had had the soul of some sort of old Vulcan ghost in his head. He didn't know it for sure, but he had an impression that this was what this 'katra' thing was all about. So basically she had saved her mom's soul. Somehow the thought was comforting, knowing that T'Les was not lost forever. He had not cared much for the confrontational way she had talked to T'Pol, but in the end he had come to respect her a lot. Her dry humor left no doubt where T'Pol had gotten it from. And she had helped him to get off the planet sooner rather than later after the ceremony, being the only one who really knew how much he was suffering at the time.
"So why did she ask for two days of seclusion?"
"I can't be sure, but I think she wants to talk to her mother before her katra is retired to the katric arc. They only reconciled shortly before her death. And I suppose she doesn't want you to see her too often before her bruises have healed. She took a few hits down there."
"Well, I saw. Her face was messed up some when I picked her up at the airlock."
"She didn't mind being seen like that by most people. But when I told her that you'd meet her at the airlock she flinched and tried to talk me into letting her find her way to sickbay on her own."
"That explains why she almost ran to sickbay and brushed me off at the door. 'Thank you Commander, 'kay, thanks, 'bye.'"
Jon smiled at Trip's antics and grabbed a bottle of the fine stuff and two tumblers from his cabinet. It was as touching as it was amusing that the chief engineer still had the boyish habit of gesticulating with his arms as if he was hell-bent on emphasizing every action with an appropriate gesture.
"I don't want to give you false hopes, Trip. But I think she's ready to make the final step, and considering that there's never been a Human/Vulcan couple, it's a helluva big step."
"Trust me, Jon, I know."
Jon handed him a drink.
=/\=
Trip was checking the contents of his duffle to make sure that he hadn't forgotten anything major. He could probably buy anything he would need in the shops of the human compound, but he hated it when stuff piled up that he'd had to buy just because he'd forgotten to bring them. He'd left no fewer than seven toothbrushes behind when they'd shipped out four years ago.
His final preparations were interrupted when the door chime sounded.
"Come."
T'Pol entered and he nearly stopped breathing. She was wearing the unbelievably tight white desert suit that left really little to the imagination. Since the one she wore on Vulcan had been torn and blood-soaked, he realized that she had more than one of those.
"Let me guess, Hoshi can't wait to get going?" he asked, trying to withstand the urge to just stare at her and dribble like an idiot.
"Whilst Ensign Sato is indeed most impatient to start her assignment, I came to you with a request."
"Please state your request, Commander," he said with an amused grin, playfully matching her formality.
"Trip, I would wish that you stay with me at my mother's house."
Unlike the first time she had extended an invitation to Vulcan, she didn't express it nonchalantly while packing her duffel bag. She was making a conscious effort to remain demonstratively neutral. But Trip had spent way too much time studying little nuances in her behavior and the look in her eyes. Her back was slightly arched, emphasizing her shapely bottom even more and she didn't quite manage to look him straight in his eyes. She was apprehensive.
The use of his nickname caught him by surprise, however and it was a struggle to remain neutral. His first reflex was to wrestle an admission of her motives for that offer out of her, but just in time he remembered Jon's advice to let her call the shots. His thinking about how to react to the invitation had created a little awkward pause. He decided to start with a rather neutral question that evaded the elephant in the room.
"What about Hoshi, she's going to stay there too? We can't leave her all alone in the compound."
"Apparently two of her friends from the academy live in the compound and she is most eager to 'catch up with them'. She has already issued a precautionary apology for not being able to spend much of her spare time with us."
Trip smiled. Leave it to Hoshi to make the most of a situation like that. He rolled up his blanket and stuffed it into his duffel bag.
"Why are you taking a blanket?" she asked, still standing near the door.
"Well the blanket in the guest room is a bit on the thick side. I got quite hot under it the last time."
He could perceive her hesitation before she spoke again.
"I had hoped you would agree to share a room with me. The master bedroom has several blankets. You should be quite comfortable with a light summer blanket at current temperatures."
This was just a typical T'Pol statement. He sometimes wondered if she underestimated him. She had given the important bit in a short half-sentence, before hurriedly garnishing it with a whole host of additional information. What was she expecting? That the huge honking center-piece would have fallen off his mental stack by the time she had finished the sentence? Or maybe she was just used to confusing people like that by now.
He controlled his reaction to that one suggestion that was now – unsurprisingly – his entire focus of attention, and sat down on the edge of the bunk.
"Would you sit with me, T'Pol?"
She nodded silently and slowly sat down on the bunk, preserving a suitable distance between them.
He looked at her in fond exasperation. "I don't bite."
There was a little pause, while she evidently weighed up any of the responses she could have made to that. Then, without making any of them, she adjusted her position. She was now sitting right next to him. He gently took her hand and she offered neither protest nor resistance.
"If there is one constant in the universe, it's the fact that the two of us are hopeless at communicating with each other. I've seen the master bedroom only once when I realigned the environmental controls in it. It only has one bed – a big one – but only one. From just about anyone else an offer to share it is a rather obvious hint, but so, I once mistakenly assumed, was watching you get naked right before my eyes and kiss the daylights out of me."
He could see the apprehension in her face and he steeled himself to calmly continue his monologue. For both their sakes, he had to get this right; had to find out exactly where both of them stood. He couldn't face a second round of what he'd gone through before. This time he was getting things crystal clear before he took a second, and this time irretrievable, step.
"So apparently I can't rely on what looks like an obvious indication. I need a clear, conscious articulation of your motives, T'Pol. Are you in it for real? Is this another experimental 'exploration of Human sexuality' or will your opinion be the same after we wake up tomorrow? I would love nothing more than sharing a bed with you and not only for four weeks, but for the rest of my life. I need to know if your intentions are the same."
She wordlessly handed him a PADD.
"What's this?"
"It is a formal request to remove the bulkhead between my quarters and those of Crewman Fuller to create a space big enough to house two persons. I wanted to submit it before we leave in the hope that the construction work will be finished by the time we return. Captain Archer has already given his approval, but since it involves structural changes, it needs to be signed off by the ship's chief engineer as well. You will also notice that it contains an attachment with an official exemption from the no-fraternization regulations – signed by Admiral Gardner."
"Wow, you left nothing to chance, did you?" he commented, amazed by her preparation. Now it became clear what she needed the forty-eight hours for and why Hoshi had been grinning like a Cheshire cat. As the comms officer she would of course know about T'Pol's communications with Starfleet.
"Here's my answer," he said, signing the approval with a grin. Once done, he grabbed her head gently and kissed her – a kiss that began as equally gentle, but ended up with all the passion he'd kept reined in and tamped down for so long.
"Are you not disappointed that this moment was not appropriately... romantic?" she asked breathlessly after what had felt like the longest kiss he had ever shared with a woman.
"T'Pol, the thought that,..." he looked at the clock, "in about fourteen hours I will wake up and the first thing I'm going to see when I open my eyes is your face… now that's properly romantic. Unless of course you plan to wake me up at the butt crack 'o dawn with that gong."
"No, ashayam, I shall wait until after you have had the opportunity to look at my face after waking up."
He smiled. Right now it felt as though he'd never stop smiling for as long as he lived. "What does that mean? 'Asha...'"
"'Ashayam'. It means beloved."
Hell, this day was just getting better and better. "Now there's something I could get used to. I'll have to work on my pronunciation though."
"I would be quite content if you used one of the human appellations, although I would prefer one that doesn't double as a food item."
"There go honey and sweetcakes," he replied with a chuckle. "Darlin' it is then."
She nodded her approval.
"Well then my beloved non-food item. Let's go before Hoshi bursts from impatience."
"Agreed."
=/\=
"It was about time I finally got to fly one of the things," Hoshi told her passengers, although for some 'mysterious' and utterly amusing reason they didn't seem to be paying much attention as she piloted the shuttle away from the ship. "I've probably done the most simulator hours of any Starfleet officer without ever getting to drive the real thing."
"Thanks for telling us before we're on the ground, Hoshi."
She giggled at his mock complaint. She knew that neither officer would have let her near the controls if they didn't have full confidence in her piloting skills. Now that by the look of things T'Pol had gone through with her plan to fork him to the plate, they had too much to lose to entrust their lives to an inept pilot.
"Will you accompany us for the evening meal?" the Vulcan offered as Hoshi set the shuttle down near the house that was now T'Pol's possession.
"No thanks, T'Pol. I can't wait to meet Linda and Zoe. We haven't seen each other for years. When do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?"
"Will you manage to wake up before nine o'clock, ashayam? I would not want to disappoint you by leaving my half of the bed empty by the time you are awake," she heard T'Pol ask, and the young ensign's jaw hit the floor. As the first officer's foremost confidant she had expected that T'Pol would be a little less restricted in her behavior towards Trip when she was the only witness, but this was a downright intimate address for a Vulcan. And she had openly revealed that they were going to share a bed!
She carefully observed Trip. After all it wasn't a given that he would be comfortable with the fact that T'Pol basically announced what her plans were. He was grinning like a loon, so he probably couldn't care less or most likely was even happy about it. After all the dancing-around-each-other that the two of them had done, he was probably wanting to scream the news to the whole planet anyway.
She grinned and waved them goodbye as they left the shuttle still arguing if it was appropriate for her to wake him up prematurely if it became necessary. Those two were just too funny at times.
=/\=
Night had fallen over Vulcan, and Trip found himself in a large bed with T'Pol right beside him. They were lying close together on their backs, but with no direct contact. It was not what Trip had expected, but he was willing to let her decide the speed at which they were taking this journey.
They had started off the night-time program with a neuropressure session, which according to her was an integral part of the intimate life of Vulcan pairs. Which certainly gave an interesting aspect to the fact that they had already more than a year of experience with it.
T'Pol had brought about a moment of comedy, when she had – out of habit – crossed her arms over her naked breasts. Considering that she had once revealed much more than her bust and initiated the idea of sharing a bed – most likely not exclusively to sleep in it – this sudden return to 'being shy' felt somewhat funny. Having noticed his failed attempts at stifling his laughter, however, she had let her arms fall away. The slightly exasperated eye-roll, that had clearly been directed at herself, lent substance to his theory. The more the session progressed, however, she had become more and more introspective, apprehensive even. Considering how brazenly she had initiated the only sex encounter they had had so far, he wondered what was wrong with her or if he misinterpreted the situation. As if knowing his thoughts, she surprised him with a question.
"Trip, would you grant me a request to wait for a day or two before we engage in sexual relations?"
Trip spluttered as he was caught unprepared by the blunt question. He needed a moment to regain his composure before he rolled over to his side to look at her.
"T'Pol, what kind of question is that? Of course I'll wait as long as it takes for you to get comfortable with having sex."
"I am not 'uncomfortable'. In fact I quite desire your touch, but I need to take precautionary measures tomorrow."
"You're worried about conceiving," he said in understanding.
"I am not talking about contraceptives, but sedatives."
Trip lifted his head, his brows furrowed in disbelief. "You want me to knock you out before having sex?"
"I was not under the influence of sedatives during our previous sexual encounter. It was my fear of easing my control that made me unable to react to the stimulation."
"Isn't controlling your emotions what Vulcans do? What they have to do?"
"Yes that is true and I must caution you. Seeing me without full control over my emotions might be unsettling, but I cannot have a satisfying sexual encounter with you if I suppress the sensations and emotions it elicits."
"That's where the seven year thing comes from, isn't it? You're afraid of losing control, even if it is deliberate."
"Yes. The 'seven year thing' is called pon-farr. It strips Vulcans of all rational thought and emotional control and forces us to mate. If we don't, the blood fever kills us. Most Vulcans are so afraid of relaxing their control they never mate unless forced to do so by the blood fever."
"How many years until you are due?"
"Females do not usually experience the blood fever, only the males. The same symptoms can however be caused for females due to influence of viral or bacterial infections, as happened to me shortly before the Xindi mission."
Trip had listened intently, wanting to understand exactly what was going on here, but now he lifted his head again and saw T'Pol looking back at him in the moonlit night.
"Frankly T'Pol, I don't want you to drug yourself just so you can moan and groan when we have sex. I'll admit it wasn't exactly thrillin' last time with you lyin' there in silence lookin' at me as if it didn't make the least bit of difference to you while I humped you like a horny dog. But if that's how Vulcan biology works then I'll have to get used to it."
"Trip, it didn't make the least bit of difference to me – not then. When I suppress my emotions I also have to suppress the sensations that cause them. I felt almost nothing. That is how most Vulcan females give themselves to their mates when they are in the throes of the blood-fever. The males are so far gone in their madness they don't notice anything. I know this will unsettle you, but I was nothing more than a sperm receptacle. That encounter was supremely disagreeable for both of us. To use my mother's words: 'We merely got the mechanical basics right'."
He furrowed his brow as a question popped up in his mind. He felt bad at what he'd heard.
"T'Pol. If you knew you wouldn't feel the damnedest thing, why did you invite me to it? I mean, if the most gorgeous body in the galaxy is peeled naked before your eyes, there's not much left to guess about the situation. You gave yourself in like a piece of meat."
His voice broke slightly as hurt and anger mixed in his mind, but he willed himself to soften his speech.
"That you didn't know that you'd hurt me as well, I won't hold against you. We never talked about it and I'm guessin' the expectations of human males in a sexual encounter aren't taught at the Vulcan science academy. But that you humiliated yourself like that – why?"
This was evidently a subject she'd rather have avoided. Nevertheless, he read without difficulty the way she gathered herself together to admit a hard truth, trusting him to accept it. "Corporal Cole was interested in you at the time. She was everything that I was not. She could communicate her intentions better, is most pleasing to look at and reminded you of your home. I surmised that she would soon initiate intimate activities and in a desperate attempt I sought to demonstrate that I was willing to engage in sexual relations as well, even though I knew it would be less than satisfactory for me."
"And you thought I'd just be happy to stick it somewhere warm and wet to get myself off." He was hurt and – there was no denying it – a little disgusted by the thought that she'd understood so little of what the occasion had really meant to him. The harsh words left his mouth before he could think better of them.
She took the blow without flinching, with the fine courage he loved so much, as he loved pretty well everything else about her. "I ask forgiveness, beloved."
After a moment, his hand reached over to clasp hers, a gesture of regret, forgiveness and reconciliation. "I already told you, you couldn't know 'bout me. But at least we're not repeatin' the mistake and botchin' the second attempt, too. This time we're talkin'."
Suddenly a thought hit him – something she had said earlier.
"You talked about that night with your mother?" he asked, his voice cracking at the thought.
"Yes, with her katra in my mind she saw my most private thoughts anyway. Apparently my parents, unlike many other Vulcans, had a rather satisfying intimate life."
"I'm not sure that I would want to get sex lessons from my mom – or yours for that matter."
"I was rather uncomfortable as well with her... graphic descriptions, but she gave me invaluable advice. However, I was still relieved to have her katra removed from my mind. I did not care much for her blunt comments on the technical merit of our intimate techniques... or lack thereof."
Trip pushed his face into the pillow, laughing. Partly in mortification at the thought of having his best sexual efforts made the subject of a scathing critique by his mother-in-law, but partly because the whole damned situation was just so hilarious.
"Sorry 'bout that darlin'," he said after composing himself again. "That sounded just like your mom. So she told you to let go of your emotional control?"
"Indeed."
"Okay, since you're obviously set on tryin' it out. What do we need to prepare for?"
"When I let go of my control, I will most likely articulate myself the way you are familiar with from your encounters with human... or non-human... females."
Trip felt a burning sensation on his face as embarrassment gripped him.
"However," she went on, matter-of-factly, "I might fall back into my native language, so we will need to record one or more encounters so I can teach you the meaning of my words. It is imperative that you learn to understand what my desires are when I'm no longer fully coherent."
"Talkin' dirty in Vulcan?" he asked, highly amused all over again by the revelation.
"Vulcan has a broad variety of vulgar terms and expletives, which are, however, never used by one in control of his or her emotions." She looked at him with mock severity; the oft-discussed subject of the necessity for a 'cuss box' in Main Engineering had evidently reached her ears. "My mother, however, claims that my father used to swear so badly it scared off wildlife when he let go of his control."
Trip pressed his face into the pillow and laughed even more.
"Okay, so you get all swivel-eyed and I need to learn Vulcan dirty talk."
"Do not take this lightly, ashayam. Once my coherence is compromised some of my senses might be impaired. My mother used to lose her sense of hearing. If you deny me what I desire in such a state, I might take what I crave by forceful means."
This sounded like a very happy situation indeed to Trip, but he tried to remain serious about it. "And that's where the sedative comes in, so I can knock you out if you start hurtin' me."
"Indeed."
"Frankly, I'm startin' to understand why you Vulcans are so afraid of it. If you think you can get something out of it for yourself too, I'm willin' to try anything. After all this isn't supposed to be a one-way affair. Besides, I know you won't hurt me, even if you are out of it."
"What makes you so sure about it?" She was obviously hoping for reassurance on that score.
"Been there." He shrugged nonchalantly. "After the incident with the Seleya you were completely out of control. You hissed and spat at everyone. It looked to me as if you couldn't see or hear a single thing, so we might need to prepare for that. I had to shoot all of Phlox's hypos into your neck 'cause you weren't lettin' anyone near you, except me. You still growled at me, pro-forma probably, but then lifted your head to give me access to your neck. Cap'n was quite annoyed. I think he still had a bit of a crush on you back then."
He felt her arm snake around his waist.
"It comforts me that I am still able to sense your presence even when my control is compromised."
"Looks like we're really starting to 'explore human sexuality' right now," he said, kissed her and they began their slow drift into a very restful sleep.