"Commander Tucker is Presented with a Naked Science Officer" By Alelou Rating: NC-17 (Very. I thought about glossing tastefully over some of the details, and then I thought, oh, screw that. So be warned.) Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to CBS/Paramount (not that they'd want anything to do with this one). Genre: TnT romance, missing scene, smut Description: I never really did a Harbinger fic, so this is it. It doesn't really relate to the Commander Tucker series, but I liked the title too much not to use it. Author's Note: Many thanks to JustTrip'n for beta, especially for NC17 beta, which I know she avoids. As usual, we disagreed about T'Pol, but it was helpful. She was naked. Completely, utterly naked. Shocked, Trip's eyes traveled down her compact form. He'd caught glimpses of her breasts during neuropressure, but this was the first time he was seeing her small, taut nipples. Below, a little thatch of brown hair. He was a little surprised that nothing looked all that different than on any other Human woman. He looked back up at her face. What the hell was she doing? Whatever it was, she didn't hesitate. She lowered her face to claim another kiss. Even as he opened his mouth to her questing tongue and set his own to dueling with her, he was thinking furiously. Where'd she learn to do this so well? With Sim? What the hell was going on? Was this jealousy, or general insanity, or did she just really, really like him? "Wait, wait," he said, breathlessly, and held her away to forestall her from diving in for another kiss. She was panting and flushed. So he was he, and worse. It was damnably hard to think, but he couldn't just let this thing run amuck like some out-of-control matter/anti-matter reaction. "T'Pol? What are we doing here?" She reached out a hand and cupped his dick where it was straining against his pants. "I would have thought that was fairly obvious," she said, and quite deliberately caressed his balls. He groaned at her touch without backing away-there was a limit to his self-discipline, after all-and tried valiantly not to lose his train of thought. "You said Vulcans only do this every seven years." "You are not Vulcan." She squeezed lightly and he groaned deep in his throat. "It certainly appears that you would be capable of sexual congress right now." He stared at her. Throwing her right down on the floor and fucking her silly was his first impulse, but this was T'Pol. He needed more information. He needed to know she hadn't gone crazy. He needed to slow this down, even if he'd hate himself forever for it. "But if we, you know, did something ... things could get weird between us," he said. "I'm not sure we can afford that right now." He wasn't sure he could afford that right now. He had come to depend on their nightly sessions, and not just for the neuropressure. "You don't want this." She backed away, looking so puzzled and crushed that he rushed to explain. "What, are you kidding? Of course I do. I've fantasized about it for years. I just never thought there was any chance it would actually happen." He swallowed hard. "T'Pol ... you have to admit ... this just doesn't seem very Vulcan." "Vulcan is hundreds of light years away." She stared intently at him. Even in his wildest fantasies, he'd never imagined T'Pol looking at him like this, like he was dinner and she was famished. "I know what I'm doing," she added. Did she? Did anyone ever know when it came to something like this? "Sex can complicate things," he said. "This mission is important. If we were to have trouble working together..." "I have faith in your ability to do your job, no matter what happens. Do you doubt mine?" Was this naiveté on her part-or logic? He licked his lips. Could they really do this? He'd wondered obsessively about it for days after she'd told him it wasn't Reed's business if they had a romantic relationship, but he'd finally rejected it as impossible. Not with her, not on this ship, not now. Still, it had never stopped intriguing him that she'd been the one to use the word romantic. And she was an adult. She was making her desires known. He also was not sure he could ever forgive himself if he passed it up. Or that she would forgive him, for that matter. He smiled nervously and cracked a half-joke. "I can't end up pregnant, can I?" "Humans and Vulcans are not compatible for reproduction." "Could be we're not compatible in other ways, too." "I have done the necessary research. I believe I would be capable of..." Finally, a sign of hesitation. "Showing you a good time." A good time? Just where the hell had she done that research? He licked suddenly dry lips. "And would I be able to do the same for you?" "The process of sexual arousal in Vulcan women is similar to that in Human females, but the Vulcan clitoris is located just inside the vaginal passage. I cannot be certain, but I believe that even an unskilled performance would likely provide a satisfactory resolution." She took a deep breath and continued. "Especially since I am already significantly..." She hesitated again. "I believe the preferred term is wet." "Wet?" he squeaked, and swallowed hard. His pants were really growing quite painfully tight. "Your clothing is clearly constricting you, Commander," she said, gesturing down at his bulging crotch. "I suggest you disrobe." Oh, no. She wasn't going to get away with that, not right now. "Well, there's a problem there. I don't have sex with people who call me by my rank instead of by my name." "Mr. Tucker?" T'Pol offered. "Nuh uh. Trip. You have to call me Trip." Her eyes narrowed. "Very well. Trip. Please strip." He smiled. Had that been a terrible little Vulcan joke? Okay, so even if they crashed and burned because this was stupidest-ass thing he'd ever done in his entire life, at least she'd finally called him "Trip." Still, he couldn't help an anxious little sigh as he carefully freed himself from his pants and underwear and pushed them down and off. Released from its captivity, his penis jutted out like a third person suddenly introduced into the conversation. He could see her looking at it but wasn't sure what to make of her expression. "Maybe I could clean up a little first?" An eyebrow went up and she knelt in front of him. "I believe I could take care of that." He stared down at her in disbelief as she leaned forward on her knees and took it right into her pure, unpolluted, vegetarian Vulcan mouth. "T'Pol, you don't have to ... oh God. Oh God." Her mouth was so hot! Her tongue was doing things that not even Natalie would often indulge him in and oh dear God, if he wasn't careful he was going to blow this whole thing before they even got started, and he couldn't imagine she'd be too keen on that-at any rate, he certainly hadn't had time to ask how she felt about it-so after a few more stolen moments of astonished pleasure, he pushed gently on her shoulders and pulled her up to face him again. He kissed her thoroughly even as he sent his hands down to explore the contours of that gorgeous ass. He squeezed, pulling her closer, trapping his throbbing cock against her belly. She stood almost passively, merely holding on to him, letting him explore her with his tongue and hands. Watching intently for any sign he should stop, he sent one hand down into that undiscovered country between her legs, which made her breath catch. It truly was wet and swollen. Impatient now, he backed her up to the bed until he had her stretched out on it, and proceeded to suckle each lovely breast in turn and to lick each darling ear. He also dispatched a hand to do more detailed reconnaissance down below. What would happen if he touched there ... or there ... or there? T'Pol gasped and arched her back. He smiled against her breast. Yes, there it was, just as she'd said, a swollen nub just inside her opening. It was perfect engineering. Lucky Vulcans. Even their sex organs were more logical. It would be hard to go wrong with this, assuming he could last long enough. But first things first. He backed himself down the bed to see what was what and applied his mouth and tongue to the matter, pulling and suckling, savoring full immersion in smells and flavors he'd only gotten vague impressions of before. He was still happily rooting about trying to figure out exactly what would drive her insane when T'Pol suddenly whimpered and bucked under him. That hadn't taken long. He was the king of the universe! He could bring a Vulcan science officer to orgasm! And keep her there, damn it! He doggedly worked to extend her pleasure and she surprised him with her capacity to be pleased: she continued shuddering and panting and making soft little sounds of surrender longer than any of his partners had before, especially the first time around. Eventually, however, she pulled herself away. Panting, she opened her eyes and stared at him. He beamed at her, proud of his accomplishments, at least until he realized that she actually looked rattled and confused. Had this perhaps been way too much fun for a Vulcan? Meanwhile, his penis was throbbing painfully, begging for attention, but he wasn't sure of the etiquette of this situation. Would she consider the matter properly concluded? Would she even think of helping him along? Was it perhaps time to get out of Dodge and go finish this up on his own? "You don't wish to copulate with me?" she asked, looking puzzled and perhaps even hurt. He swallowed. "Well yeah, of course, if you're sure you're up to it." "Please, Trip." Those dark eyes were beseeching. He couldn't have refused her then even if he wanted to, which he sure as hell didn't. He moved up between her legs and was struck by the odd perception that she grew calmer as he approached. Or maybe it was actually him-it was oddly soothing simply to lay close to her, almost nose to nose, a reassuring echo of all those hours of quiet talk and neuropressure. He rested on his elbows and kissed her, wondering what she would make of the taste of herself on his lips, amazed all over again that this was really happening. He hadn't seen any sign of a hymen earlier, assuming Vulcans even had them. He didn't even know if she was virgin. He wanted to ask, but that seemed dangerous. What if she was offended by the question? "Is this going to hurt you?" he asked, instead. She shook her head and lifted her pelvis invitingly. Just in case, he pushed in gently, bit by bit, watching her face for any sign of pain. No pain. Perhaps some frustration. "Please," she moaned, and tugged at his back, urging him on. So he thrust harder and slid all the way in. She grunted and held on tight to him for a moment and he was a little afraid that it was pain she was working through, but whatever it was, when her eyes opened again he didn't see pain. There was something flickering there that he had never seen before, something feral and exulting. It might have scared him if it didn't turn him on so much. He'd always known there was fire under all that ice. She was tight and so hot but thankfully the fit seemed fine and she was certainly well lubricated and oh God this was unbelievable. He withdrew and slowly thrust again. Slow and steady. Make it last. Drive her crazy. Her chest began to flush. She opened her legs wider and lifted her pelvis impatiently. "Faster," she moaned. "Harder." He was more than happy to discard any fine ideas about finesse and do what came naturally. He lifted her up a little and braced his knees and pumped into her, still watching for any sign of pain but she merely responded by wrapping her legs around his hips and moaning softly, matching him thrust for thrust. He had hoped he could make her come again, but he didn't even know if Vulcan women could come again. The pressure was building fast and he doubted he could hold out much longer, especially when he looked down and saw her beautiful face contorted in pleasure. But then she was gasping and bucking, her muscles milking him internally and he was coming himself in a furious series of jerks and groans and something more, something almost metaphysical, as if the universe itself was taking him in. That was fucking amazing. He stared down at her, amazed. She stared up at him with enormous eyes and he so wanted to just say it, to say, "I love you." Because he did. He loved her. He adored her! He wanted to spend the rest of his life just like this! But he'd said those things to women before in this situation, after all-he was always in love at this point, always, so maybe it was just hormones and gratitude even though right now it felt so profound that it almost brought tears to his eyes, even scared him a little. Or perhaps he was scared because he knew that probably wasn't something she'd want to hear. So instead, he just whispered, "That was amazing." She nodded dumbly at him, staring wide-eyed, and he felt as if he was sinking into her eyes, could get lost in those eyes, was perhaps already lost. It felt like vertigo, and he felt a definite stab of fear. Why hadn't she said anything? "Are you okay?" he asked. "Yes," she whispered. "Thank you. It was ... remarkable." He grinned proudly. "You are so beautiful," he said. He leaned down to kiss her quickly, then continued staring warmly down at her, still inside her, until her expression drew in suddenly and he could feel her pulling away from him even though she hadn't moved. He stole one last caress, then slipped out and pulled back. He sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly very conscious that he was a naked man in T'Pol's quarters. He would have liked to have cuddled with her, but he wasn't sure she'd want that. "Guess I won't need any more neuropressure in order to sleep tonight," he said with a smile, if only to break the silence, and laid a companionable hand on her leg, rubbing it affectionately. She sat up next to him. He wasn't sure whether it was in order to pull her leg out from under his hand, or to keep him company, though he hoped it was a companionable instinct on her part. Now there were two naked people sitting on the side of her bed. Would she let him kiss her now? He had turned to her, ready to try, when the captain's voice came over the com, "All hands to duty stations." They looked at each other quickly, suddenly fellow officers again, then rose and quickly began to dress. She found his t-shirt for him. He zipped up her cat suit for her, then planted a kiss on her forehead and ran out the door. It wasn't a tactical alert, so he figured he had time to run to his quarters and change into his uniform. The more normal he looked, the less likely it was that somebody would notice his entire life had just been turned upside down. Once in engineering, he let the familiar cadence of the engines and related systems calm him. All was well. They'd be all right. They'd figure it out. He and T'Pol had been slowly working out whatever this was between them for a long time now. The incredibly hot sex they'd just had could only change that for the better. Right?   Author's Final Note: I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed with myself for giving these two just your basic proficient, generous-minded session of love-making. It's kind of clichéd, really. I'd love to see a fic in which T'Pol's alien sexual nature really freaks us out. On the other hand, Trip didn't look traumatized when next we saw him, so it probably wouldn't fit canon to do it that way.

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