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Rating: R
Disclaimer: Paramount and/or CBS own Star Trek, Enterprise, and all characters/ places/ objects wherein. No profit is made from this story.
Genre: Angst, MU ficlet, Trip/T'Pol
Summary: Mirror TíPol has her own issues.

Dear Readers: This is a companion piece to ĎDiseaseí. It was written to, wellÖ mirror Tripís POV and should be read as such.

My gratitude again goes to Bether for her beta services.

I have an addiction.

Like a drug, it fills me, leaving me wanting.

Like a deluge, it infuses every pore, saturating me.

Like a gale, it tears at me, ripping at my control.

No one knows of my obsession. I cannot tell them. Because then they would know. Knowledge is power. They cannot know my weakness.

I should fight it.

I should resist it.

I should cast him out.

I left him behind. I had little choice when I made my escape. Why did I bond with him? What prosaic sentiment conspired against my logic? It is of little matter now. Now, we are bound. Now, I will seek no other. His image is forever imprinted within my mind.

He enthralls me. He arouses me. I want him.

My eyes close and he is there. Magnificent. Beautiful. Perfect.

His hands feel decadent upon my skin. Rough. Gentle. I press my body against him; pulling at his neck, indulging my need for him by running my fingers through his hair. He sucks on my lips; my resolve weakens. I tip my head back and allow his tormenting mouth to discover the heated flesh of my neck. Keening tremors well up in my throat. His tongue glides along my skin and up to the tip of my ear. I surrender. He holds me upright as I shutter.

I run my nails over his chest, and he groans. His body is flush with heat, his flesh slick with sweat. Nothing is as magnificent. I moan as his mouth continues to plunder my body. He is insatiable. My back arches into him, demanding.


His scent intoxicates me. My control is shredding. His hands ravage me. My passion is overwhelming. His mouth destroys me.

I scream his name. My breath is gone. My heart has ceased. I shatter.


I am lost. Pieces of me lay scattered.

I open my eyes.

He enthralls me. He arouses me. I want him.

At last I have my freedom. So why have I chosen these binds? He devastates my control. He fills my katra. He is my ecstasy.

I should cast him out. But I canít.

I should resist it. But I wonít.

I should fight it. But I donít want to.

I canít live without him.

I have an addiction.

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