Ancient Delights

A/N: As always, the uncensored edition of the chapter can be found at Archive of Our Own, but I won't bite if you leave a comment ;)

Trip looked on sleepily while T'Pol got dressed again after their afternoon nap, and prepared to get up too.

"How come you're havin' an afternoon nap?" he asked with honest interest. "What happened to 'Vulcans can go without sleep for days'?"

"I was not sleeping. I used the time for meditation. The steadiness of your heartbeat is a fairly suitable substitute for a meditation candle."

"May I submit that this is a much more entertainin' meditation technique than watchin' you sit in front of a candle all night?"

"Unsurprisingly, husband. Although you might revise your premature assessment if I tell you that traditional meditation does not strictly prescribe the use of clothing," she answered, and he was treated to the full spectrum of her 'teasing voice'.

"Oh heck, all these tough decisions," he lamented theatrically.

=/\=

"Okay, that's when the bra goes," she heard Hoshi explain. The young human had presented her intended choreography in slow-motion and T'Pol found her Adun's assessment quite correct. Even if the wisdom of undressing for an audience of strangers still eluded her, the graceful movements of Hoshi did in fact distract somewhat from the fact that she was also shedding clothing that had not been too extensive to begin with. The undressing seemed more like an addition to the routine as opposed to its main purpose.

The young human had opened the clasp of her brassiere with the back to the invisible audience before slowly turning around to reveal her bust.

"Maybe you can enhance the effect by hiding your bust with your hands, waiting a few additional seconds before finally revealing it. I noticed the pleasurable effect on my Adun is improved if the clear view on several body parts is a more random event as opposed to being entirely predictable," the Vulcan noted, and sporting a wide grin the human repeated the sequence, this time hiding her breasts by covering them with her arm. After a few more seductive hip-movements she let the arm fall away slowly, turning the movement into a graceful gesture that was part of the dance.

"You're obviously making progress in your studies of human intimacy," Hoshi said.

T'Pol raised an amused eyebrow. Admitting that the topic held a much bigger fascination than micro-singularities would be too obvious, but then, she reasoned, Hoshi probably knew that anyway.

"How come you're suddenly interested in my routine?" Hoshi asked, and she could see that the question was a serious one for the young human.

T'Pol considered. It was important that she mingle honesty with tact – and the latter was something she sometimes had difficulty with, but she did not want to offend her friend. "I do not understand the wisdom of undressing publicly, but it is not my place to judge something that you are obviously quite comfortable with. As for my interest in your routine, I share my Adun's opinion that if you are going to perform it, you should do it in a way that has artistic value and leaves your dignity intact, especially since he theorizes that this particular interest might dry up if your mysterious suitor should fit the high expectations you obviously have of him."

"He knows me quite well, doesn't he?" Hoshi said and T'Pol saw a wistful smile on the linguist's face. "He's like the big brother I never had. Somehow I think I wouldn't have taken my chances with Goldie if I didn't know that Trip was nearby to protect me if things go wrong."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow.

"You aren't upset, are you?" Hoshi asked nervously, noticing the movement.

"Since 'siblings' normally have no intimate designs on each other, I have no reason to be upset. I find your idea of relying on my husband for protection, however, rather optimistic. He is routinely an accident waiting to happen whenever he leaves the ship. I could think of more reliable guardians."

The other woman doubled over, laughing.

"Ouch, don't let him hear that, T'Pol."

=/\=

He checked the read-outs and all parameters looked good, so he activated the klaxon that alerted all Vulcans to don their hearing protectors. He forced himself not to look around as he knew he wouldn't be able to keep a straight face for ten seconds. It was a good thing that Vulcans were strict subscribers to the adage 'function over form', as they looked ridiculous with the large protector cups over their ears. That they were bright red didn't help either. But ridiculous or not, they worked; and considering that that the noise alarm wouldn't make the cut for a human alarm clock, he did not mean to test what happened when Vulcan hearing was exposed to the racket of an unshielded one-hundred-seventy-year-old turboprop engine.

He switched the start arming switch on and started the booster pumps and the auxiliary power supply unit. When they had spooled up and their RPMs on the read-out reached the required value, he flicked the ignition and fuel pump switches to the 'on' position. Seeing the affirmative light indications, he shoved the power levers into the start position, checking one last time that the aircraft was properly fastened. The large fans of the exhaust extraction system for the hall were spinning and nobody was in the dangerous area around the propeller. In fact the Vulcan professor had assembled his engineers at a very respectful distance at the other side of the hall.

Finally it was time to start up his creation, and with some excitement he pressed the start button, accompanied by a short priming boost. Soon the starter motor had surpassed the 2,200 RPM mark. The loud whine of the starting engine reverberated from the walls of the large hall. Steadily the RPMs climbed towards the 9,000 mark and as expected the 'fuel pumps parallel' indicator extinguished. The torching in the exhaust nozzles stopped and the fans in the ceiling sucked out the large plume of black smoke. With a final scream the engine sprang to life and Trip switched off the booster pumps and the APU. His engine was running.

=/\=

Professor Solan found himself in a veritable storm created by the spinning propeller of the human contraption. Even though the ungainly human hearing protection devices were heavily padded, the noise level of the historic engine was phenomenal. He couldn't quite imagine what it must have been like when Earth's atmosphere was filled with such noisy craft.

For the moment, however, he ignored the artificial wind, instead watching the wildly celebrating human. One would have thought that building a design that had become obsolete nearly one and a half century ago would not be such a source of elation, but obviously there was much still to learn about the first non-Vulcan member of his clan.

The noise started to subside as the human had apparently turned it off, satisfied with the parameters he had established during the short test run. At least that was what the Professor surmised from the satisfied expression on the human's face.

=/\=

"Are you okay, T'Pol?" Hoshi asked, laughing hysterically.

She sat naked in her oversized goblet, having just rehearsed the routine in its entirety. Suddenly T'Pol had let out a loud whoop, as if she was trying to imitate her significant other. Of course the sudden outburst had been followed by a very embarrassed blush on the Vulcan's face, but Hoshi could barely calm down. It had just been too hilarious a moment. Once the initial shock at T'Pol actually whooping and cheering a striptease of another female had subsided, the laughing fit had taken hold.

"I am indeed," T'Pol said. "The bond must be getting stronger. This was not my emotion. I believe Trip meant to conduct the first engine test today."

"I suppose we can rule out total failure," Hoshi said, still giggling. "For a moment I thought you were cheering me."

"The choreography is significantly improved over what you recalled in the past, but I doubt an artistic performance of any kind would ever excite me this much," T'Pol remarked drily. "Now the important question is, where do you procure a 'fig leaf'.

"I know where we can get the material to make one from fabric," Hoshi said, hopping out of her prop and gathering up some street-legal clothing that she had laid ready. "And while we're at it, we are going to 'procure' something for you. I believe you didn't quite get around to staging your 'bust day' yet and you wouldn't want to greet hubby in the same costume twice, would you?"

"Apparently not," T'Pol noted with a raised eyebrow.

For someone with a predilection for not wearing any if not strictly necessary, her human friend certainly knew how to don clothes quickly.

"Come on." Hoshi preceded her out of the door, looking back with a twinkle. "And if you can spare any details about the wedding night – I'm bursting with curiosity."

=/\=

It wasn't every day that he got to impress a room full of Vulcans, Trip thought. The first ever turboprop airplane built on Vulcan had certainly done the trick. Now all he had to do was getting the thing flying, which was tricky enough as it meant getting enough airspeed not only to overcome the thinner atmosphere, but also the higher gravity, which was not exactly an asset when trying to fly an airplane.

According to his calculations everything should work out fine, but anything over ten thousand feet would be uncomfortably close to coffin corner and he didn't quite plan to be the first pilot to have a plane crash on Vulcan. Things would be a bit easier with the fusion engine, which wasn't dependent on athmospheric pressure and therefore would not lose power in the thin air; and since the Vulcan-made alloys were lighter and stronger than anything produced on Earth, their maximum operation speed was closer to two hundred knots rather than the puny one hundred and forty of the original design.

Thankfully the Vulcans had produced the parachute and it had even been checked by an expert. It had been quite a surprise that he wouldn't be the first to do a parachute drop on Vulcan should the need arise in case of an emergency. Apparently there was a small group of hobby parachutists at the embassy, who once in a while took the liberty of jumping out of perfectly serviceable shuttlecraft – presumably for fun, much to the bewilderment of their usually Vulcan pilots.

He threw his uniform into the laundry chute and switched on the unloved sonic shower to get rid of the soot that had left marks on his arms and neck. After that little private topless show of T'Pol's this afternoon and her obsession with his getting enough rest during the day, it wasn't a risky bet what the late-night program would be. Add to that the fact that she had spent the entire afternoon with Hoshi and the already lousy odds of betting against sexy time reduced still further. In this regard he very much liked lousy odds.

=/\=

T'Pol noticed that she had spent quite some time lately observing her own physique in the mirror. Wanting to be attractive to a male of a species that was highly simulated by visual input was a stressful affair. They had been cooped up aboard Enterprise for nearly a year while in the Expanse and with much chagrin she had noticed that she had gained 2.176 kilograms of weight in that time, which was unacceptable as it was also accompanied in a 1.05 centimeter increase in waist circumference. A more rigorous workout regime was obviously needed.

Thankfully today's costume would mask this new deficiency in her physique, seeking as it did to inspire interest elsewhere with other 'arguments'. They had come to the idea of dressing her up as some mythological figure called Pallas Athena after a lengthy discussion about Hoshi's performance that would be presented in two days.

Uneasy with the thought of her Adun being exposed to the sight of another female's genitals and genuinely convinced that a more understated performance would be more befitting Hoshi's age, she had spent considerable time in discussion, trying to convince her human friend of her logic. Hoshi had finally agreed and would now keep her genitalia hidden behind a stylized fig leaf, impersonating an ancient figure from Earths mythology called 'Eve'. Hoshi had theorized that this would perhaps even open the possibility of luring her secret admirer onto the stage to perform impromptu as a male partner called 'Adam'.

To complete T'Pol's transformation, Hoshi had styled the long wig from the mission to the Akaali homeworld into an elaborate bun that apparently represented the predominant hair-style in Earth's 'helladic' period. It appeared to be still satisfactorily in place, and when at last she was entirely satisfied with her appearance the Vulcan walked back into the living room to await the arrival of her adun.

Her quiet meditation was interrupted by her mate, who came home humming in satisfaction. When their eyes met he froze, stared at her open-mouthed, pivoted on his heels and left, slamming the door shut from outside.

"Oh my freakin' god!" she heard him shout outside, followed by hysterical laughter.

"That's any predatory wildlife in the vicinity effectively dealt with," T'Pol remarked drily to herself.

Thankfully there were no other residences in the immediate vicinity, although she suspected that tela'at Varok or any of his family members would probably have heard her mate's outburst should they happen to be at home. Thankfully, too, she was not subject to undue sensitivity on the score of her mate's reactions. Thanks to the bond, she knew that the laughter was merely a product of surprise, and did not indicate any lack of appreciation.

=/\=

Trip was breathing hard as he tried to rein in his hysterics. That picture had just taken him by surprise. T'Pol was a goddess at any time, but now she was literally looking like one.

Carefully he opened the door again and was greeted by T'Pol standing in the living room, awaiting his return with a very elevated eyebrow. She was wearing a dress like something you'd see on a classical Greek vase, open on her left side to reveal a small strip of her smooth skin the entire length from the shoulders down to the feet. Two tiny gold brooches, strategically placed, held the front and back together. But the real party piece was that it was not horizontally wrapped around her torso, but diagonally from the right side of her waist over her left shoulder and again secured by a third gold fibula. A second one was supposed to do the same on the opposite shoulder, but since it was pulled upwards instead, her entire right arm and shoulder were uncovered, as was her right breast – completely bared. It was a mesmerizing sight. He stood staring for some moments, drinking it in, before walking forward to embrace her.

"Jeez, and I thought you couldn't top the last getup. One day I'm gonna come home and you'll be wearing something ...normal. I dread that day, my dear wife," he said, gently cupping her exposed breast while starting to exchange a very hot kiss. What had started as their customary smooch when he came home from his construction work was soon escalating into a heavy weight tongue wrestling match. It wasn't every day that one got to kiss a Greek goddess, after all.

Before he knew it, he was stark naked! Somehow in between kissing the daylights out of him, she had managed to push off his uniform and pull down his pants, first with her hands and then all the way down with her foot. He had of course noticed how she had pushed off his overall, but after that his interest had been captured by other things.

He looked at her with a surprised grin, the little engineer standing at attention, but when he reached for the fibula on her shoulder, to rob the cloth around her body of the little cohesion that held it in place, she took an evasive step back and instead returned with a large white cloth and started to wrap it around his body in much the same fashion as hers. Not even three minutes later he found himself looking like a Roman in a toga, half his torso bare, like hers.

"I thought it would improve the meal's atmosphere if we looked somewhat... alike," she noted with a teasing undercurrent in her voice.

"I thought it would improve the meal's atmosphere if we skipped it, my goddess," he said, his voice hoarse with desire to continue what they had started.

"It would not promote your ability to perform in your marital duties if you were to escort me to the bed-chamber without the necessary replenishing of thy energy, my dear Carolus Ingeniarius."

"Thou art so wise, my dear goddess of crafts and skill. Thy will be done, adorable Athena," he proclaimed, going down on one knee and kissed her hand. Whoever would have thought those dry-as-dust lessons in the classics all those years ago would have borne fruit? Belatedly he sent apologetic thanks to the professor who'd spent so much time and effort trying to din the subject into a head that even then had been stuffed full of 'more important' and far 'more interesting' engineering projects.

With a grin he went to follow her 'divine order' to wash his hands. When he was in the corridor, he let out a chuckle. T'Pol was as thorough as always, even when attempting role-playing. Life was just getting better and better.

=/\=

With a deep-seated pleasure at the contentment she felt simmering in their nascent bond, T'Pol/Athena put the finishing touches on the table. Even though they had not had much time to investigate Greek culinary customs, they had opted for roast mutton and fried eggs for him. Hoshi had helped her prepare the dishes as T'Pol could not, for obvious reasons, sample them. Especially the eggs were important, according to Hoshi, since they would give 'proper ink in the pen'. It was obviously a reference to her Adun's potency, although she had to date not yet found it lacking in any regard.

For herself she had prepared a broth containing a mixture of Earth and Vulcan vegetables, refined with a small amount of the only animal matter that Vulcans were allowed and willing to consume – seafood. Her father had come from the shores of the Varoth Sea, which was why seafood had always been a rare but not unheard-of part of her family's diet.

This would be one of the few occasions on which she would indulge in consuming an alcoholic beverage, as Hoshi had helped her procure a bottle of Chalkidiki red wine from present day Greece in one of the human shops in the Embassy. As this contained an almost 15 volume percent alcoholic content she was worried that they could become slightly inebriated, but since her mind assured her that even so her mate would be up to his usual, more than satisfactory, standard of performance, it would not make much of a difference.

She realized that going about her tasks in the household in a partial state of undress had started to feel quite natural to her. While complete nudity, as often practiced by Hoshi, was problematic – for hygienic reasons if nothing else –, the absence of any clothing above the waist-line had almost become normal by now. Especially at the high temperatures at his time of the year, it actually increased her comfort as it made regulating her body temperature a lot easier. And the positive effect that such state of undress had on her mate was of course not to be dismissed either. She would however have to make sure that he was not afforded to watch her unclothed form too often or it would become so common a sight that he would not regard it as special anymore. That was why the rather agreeable way of meditating without a shirt would have to be conducted when her Adun was not at home.

Said subject of her affectionate thoughts came back to the living room, and she could smell that he had applied her new favorite deodorant, a potent substance they had procured from a Corridanite trader on the market in Shi'Kar. It had an almost aphrodisiacal effect on her, which was why he only applied it when they were in the privacy of their residence, where he could 'do something about' the arousal the intoxicating smell inevitable caused. It was a good thing that she wore no underpants below her wrapped garment as she could feel her nether region moisten with the excitement and her nipples started to harden, pushing against the thin fabric of her apparel, as far as they were covered by any.

She closed her eyes and luxuriously sniffed along his torso, savoring his potent scent, while running her fingers gently through the sparse hair on his half-exposed chest.

=/\=

Hoshi smiled with satisfaction as she inspected the two fig leaves she had produced. Both would be attached around the body using near-transparent stretch bands that would be invisible to all but the closest inspection. One smaller one was meant for her, with a bigger one for Goldie, should she manage to entice him to join her on stage. If he was bold and had enough self-esteem enough to do something crazy like that, he was definitely the right one, and she wouldn't hesitate a fraction of a second to make sure such a catch would not get away from her.

Of course his fig leaf was a darn sight bigger than hers, since if he was small enough to fit behind hers there would be a serious compatibility problem. The old adage 'It's not the size of the ship, it's the motion of the ocean' was true to some extent, but it would take a hell of a lot of time to get to England in a row boat. Fortunately during the one encounter they'd had during her half-drunken lapdance, she glimpsed enough to believe that he was very satisfactorily provided for in the boat department.

If her timing wasn't off, a half-naked, pointy-eared goddess and a toga-clad, dumbfounded mortal would by now be having dinner, or perhaps already enjoying a somewhat more satisfying feast. It had surprised her how quickly T'Pol had taken to the idea of trying erotic role-playing. The ship's XO had taken to play-acting over the years – Captain Archer still waxed lyrical at times about her performance as "Judge Merciless" to extract the warp signature from one of Kaitaama's abductors – so in a way it wasn't perhaps so unusual after all that she would try to use that newfound talent to spice up her budding love-life.

She hoped that a little over two days from now, she would too have a partner to make the most of the eighteen days that remained of their semi-vacation on Vulcan.

=/\=

Their faces were flushed in each other's respective colors – his red and hers green – as they both tried to concentrate on their meals, now that 'Athena' had satisfied her wish to inhale his scent and mess up his chest hair.

"So how was your afternoon, my goddess?" he asked, slicing off a piece of his roast mutton, and picking up a few olives to go with it.

"I assisted Aphrodite in preparing her plan to seduce Adonis," she replied coolly. "I believe I was successful in influencing her to temper the forcefulness with which she will express her intentions; however, her plan to entice him to spontaneously join her courtship ritual might present a substantial challenge for the fair-haired suitor."

Trip nearly choked on the piece of meat that wasn't even half-way down his gullet.

"She does what?"

"She wishes to seduce him as part of her routine. I believe the performance is to be named 'The temptation of Adam by Eve'."

"Well, it'll certainly make it easier for me to keep an eye on his reaction when he's actually on stage. Just imagine if she'd have pulled such a stunt on poor Malcolm..."

She didn't answer his speculation. Instead she raised the bronze chalice with her wine, waiting for him to do the same, and they drank, looking at each other with growing desire.

=/\=

"You have what?" Gardner asked.

Jon was preparing for a veritable chewing-out, but he kept his voice level, not allowing any lack of confidence he felt in his own decision to creep into it.

"I've approved that they move into joint quarters. And now I want to make sure that Starfleet will not separate my two most trusted officers."

His bold front appeared to have succeeded – partially. Gardner glared for a moment longer and then his gaze dropped to the PADDs on his desk, which appeared to irk him from the way he pushed them aside.

"You know the rules, Jon. If Starfleet wanted you to have an engaged couple aboard, they would have issued you one. We'll be inundated with similar request from other couples."

Jon took courage from the fact that his superior sounded more fretful than outraged. "Sam, you know why the no-frats were introduced – people being unable to separate private time and duty. Do you really think a Vulcan will suffer from that particular problem?"

"Dammit Jon, I'd hoped to start my job without going up against the likes of Hiram Black right from the start. It's hard enough to take over from Maxwell as it is. Until now I'd been laboring under the delusion that his day had only 24 hours like for the rest of us. God knows how he managed such a workload without running himself ragged."

"They can keep a low profile and nothing will get out from the crew," the captain said persuasively, refraining from making any comment about Maxwell. He still didn't trust his composure to speak about his deceased friend. "The problem will have to be addressed at some point. I don't even know why I keep calling it 'a problem'. It's the only real good thing to come out of our time in the Expanse and it's been a major morale booster for the crew. All I want to know is that until there'd been a suitable time to discuss the situation formally, there won't be any move to get one or both of them off the ship."

He could see that the Admiral was thinking for a moment.

"Okay, Jon. For the time being we'll handle this on a 'don't ask, don't tell' basis. We never had this discussion and I won't ask any questions as long as nothing gets leaked outside the confines of your ship. For the record, if it was for my personal opinion, I'd promote the hell out of it, but the Xindi mission has seriously messed up society back on Earth. We have a major problem with xenophobia now, so for their sake, make sure word doesn't get around."

Jon nodded gravely, not showing how disillusioned he was by the 'xenophobia' bit of the news. Without help from their alien allies he'd never have succeeded in preventing the destruction of Earth, but it seemed that that particular fact had slipped completely under the radar.

=/\=

Trip slowly backed up against the wall. T'Pol, more than a bit unsteady on her feet from the wine – they had emptied the whole bottle of the strong drink – looked at him with a fire in her eyes that he had not seen before. From the way she was devouring him with her looks one could think he had not touched her in a year, even though it was a mere forty-eight hours since the three hour marathon of passionate love-making that had been their 'wedding night'.

Her speech was slurred, but even if it hadn't been he wouldn't have understood a thing as she was speaking in Vulcan – or whatever passed for it when she was more than slightly tipsy. She yanked the part of her 'dress' that was draped over her shoulder forcefully, then did the same to the other two fastenings. The three fibulae detached and impacted the wall with a series of loud 'pings'. The unwrapped cloth fluttered to the ground and she stood before him in her birthday suit, ready for more substantial action.