Imperial Military Academy - San Francisco 2142


The first time had been a necessity. Or had felt like a necessity. But they were long past that now. They were the thirst and the quenching. They were the hunger and the satiation. They were agony and the sweet release.

At first T'Pol had resisted the pleasure; it had been his mind that was her playground, even as her body was his. But eventually the engineer in him had taken her apart - figured out what to tinker with to make her sigh, what to connect to make her moan, what to hot-wire to make her scream out in...

...in a feeling she had no right to. She had a job to do.

The letter. The time had come.

"His father is dead," she said, pulling one of Tucker's arms tighter around her.

He frowned. "Who's? Reed's? Well... shit. How'd he react to that? You never know with him, do you?"

T'Pol squirmed slightly. "I...don't know. He doesn't know yet. I was able to intercept the official notification. I had advanced warning."

"Bump the old man off, did you?" Charles joked lightly.

T'Pol bit back a snarl. "No, I did not. But I had advanced warning from the household. Perhaps someone there thought it would be best if I broke the news. And I will do so. Tomorrow."

"Well, sure! Why rush?" Charles answered lazily, stretching out under the sheet. "I'd certainly rather deal with Reed first thing, after a strong cup of coffee or two. Where does he think you are right now, anyway?"

T'Pol sighed. "He thinks I am here."

Charles sat bolt upright, dropping T'Pol onto the mattress. "He knows about us?"

The boy did know. Sometime in the second or third month, Charles had left an incautious mark on her neck. Alarmed, the boy had demanded an explanation and T'Pol had named the culprit.

"Well," he'd said, lightly. "I suppose you can take care of yourself."

T'Pol had bristled at this. "That is a renegation of your responsibilities. While you imprison me and curtail my freedoms you have a duty to ensure my safety."

"Well, I suppose," the boy had answered uncertainly. "I suppose I can do something. Henry Archer protects Tucker, but while Archer is powerful, he's not a god. Then again, I've no idea how Jonathan would react to that, although he's no friend of Tucker's..."

"Your intervention is not necessary. I was merely making a point. As it happens, Tucker's advances are not unwelcome."

The boy had not seemed pleased by this exactly, indeed, he seemed almost hurt. T'Pol hadn't been able to fathom why that might be, she was in no position to refuse him anything he actually want from her. Regardless, he had offered no serious objection. Indeed, he contributed to rely on her. Often, the... substances with which she laced his food would wear off in the middle of the night, and as the boy shook uncontrollably T'Pol would rub his back and the boy would whisper, so softly he might think she couldn't hear, "You're the only one. The only one I can trust."

And so, T'Pol could answer Charles honestly now. "Of course he knows about us."

"And he doesn't mind... sharing you?"

T'Pol sat up too, then, pulling the sheet up over her breasts in irritated modesty. " I am my own person, whatever your corrupt Terran laws say. And, for what it's worth, he's never...used me."

Charles blinked "Really? Why not?"

She could only answer truthfully. "I don't know."

"Not once? NEVER?"

"Indeed."

Charles shook his head. "Well, goddamn. You're the pleasure slave but I've taken more dicks than you have."

T'Pol suddenly wanted very badly to leave, but she restrained herself, tolerating the suddenly unbearable skin contact until she could speak again. "That is behind you know. You must hope that the Imperial Forces allows you to build yourself a career that you find tolerable. As, indeed, will I."

"You? What do you mean?"

"I... I have long had the intention of asking Malcolm to release my contract to the Imperial Forces. With his father deceased he now has the power to do so."

Charles eyed her sceptically. "Well yeah... but WOULD he though?"

"I believe he will," T'Pol replied calmly. "If for no other reason than he will not be able to articulate a reason why he shouldn't." At times- many times- she had massages the boys temples and whispered his guilt, and his obligation to her, directly into his mind.

Charles remained unconvinced. "Then he must be a very different man in private then the one I've seen."

T'Pol shrugged. "Aren't we all different in private?"

Charles nodded, as if forced to admit that was true. "Well, then. Maybe I'll see you out there someday."

"Maybe you will."