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I’ll Be Coming Back to You By Jedikatie Rating: R (for the smutty bit) Author’s Note: I hope I did okay with the smut, I’ve never tried to write it before. The rating was bumped up due to it. I want to thank wallflower, who was my beta on the first chapter, and all of you who took the time to review the first chapter, I hope I don’t disappoint you with this one. Also I apologize for the delay, my mom decided the day after I posted the first chapter that she wanted to go visit her sister in North Carolina, and I went with her because I didn’t think she should make the trip alone (it’s an 11 hour drive from our house to my aunt’s). Chapter 2 Three days later… Archer leaned back from the desk monitor in his ready room, frowning. He had just finished talking to another of his old friends at Starfleet Command. Just about every favor he had left had been called in, and still no luck in getting Trip’s transfer. Every time he was certain, or in fact had been assured several times, that Trip would soon be back on Enterprise, the orders were squelched. They were never stopped by the same person twice either, as far as he could tell. Several of his buddies over the past few days had hinted at or even outright questioned why he was so intent on getting back an officer who had asked to leave in the first place. Jon had told them that Trip had been going through a rough patch at the time, and now regretted his rash act of leaving. Besides, Trip had been a friend of his for over ten years now, and that had been the primary reason why he’d let him transfer off Enterprise--he didn’t want to stand in the way of his friend, even though he’d tried to talk Trip out of it at the time. So if Trip wanted to come back, then Jon intended to make it happen. Most of them accepted the reasoning, at least to his face, but several still seemed skeptical and appeared to think he was nuts to waste so much effort on one man, no matter how talented an engineer he might be. But they had all agreed to do what they could for him. Erika Hernandez, he thought to himself. She was behind most of these attempts to keep Trip on Columbia, he knew. Jon hadn’t expected any less of her--she’d always been a fighter, especially when she wanted something. And she clearly had had her eye on acquiring Trip for some time now, hence the transfer offers to Enterprise’s chief engineer for several months prior to his own request. You’d think that hero status of mine would be good for throwing a little weight around for something as minor as this. Apparently it’s only good for impressing politicians and photo ops with the brass. He thought glumly to himself. But then it didn’t hurt any that Erika’s family had been friends with at least two of the admirals since she was a kid either, he admitted. No, what confused him more was that not all of his attempts to get Trip back had been stopped by Erika’s contacts, as far as his friends could determine. Why any of these others would care where Trip was posted was beyond him. His people back at Command had been checking into them discretely, trying to puzzle it out, but so far hadn’t had any luck. There didn’t seem to be any connection between them and Trip, at least not on the surface. Whatever was going on, it was giving him a bad feeling, and Jon sincerely hoped that he would be able to keep his promise to Trip and T’Pol somehow. He’d been distracted enough during dinner the night before, that when T’Pol had politely inquired about his efforts (because Trip had asked her to do so, she had said, though he suspected she was just as curious as his best friend), Jon had shared his concerns with her. A troubled expression had crossed her face when he had mentioned that some of the ones blocking the transfer appeared to have their own agendas when it came to Trip. T’Pol, he recalled, had thanked him for the information after wiping the worry from her face, even as she reminded him that their time was running out. She had remained quiet for the rest of the meal, which was not unusual for her, except to ask if she could have a copy of the list of these people he believed had another agenda because she might be able to discern a reason that he and his colleagues at Starfleet Command had overlooked. Jon had felt a flash of anger at the insinuation that she could do a better job than he or his friends, and wondered in that moment what exactly she thought she might discover that they hadn’t. He had pushed aside that anger and the thought as unworthy. She’d proven herself time and again over the last four years to him. She wants Trip back as much as you do. Probably more. And, he reluctantly added, she did work for Vulcan intelligence at one time. She very well could come up with a reason for their actions that we could be missing. Or better yet, a way to get them to act on our behalf instead of against us. He grimaced, glancing over the list once more, hoping that T’Pol was having better luck than he was. Jon really didn’t want to replace his science officer and first officer on top of his chief engineer, and right now, that appeared to be the most likely outcome unless a breakthrough came in the next couple of days. Time is definitely running out, Archer thought to himself as he bent forward to place yet another call to Starfleet Command and try again. t&t T’Pol, busy at her station on the bridge, and in command while the captain was talking to his contacts at Command in his ready room, was having problems of her own. The bond, much to her distress, seemed to be eroding her emotional control a little more with each passing hour that she was separated from Trip. This had resulted in an unfortunate incident nearly half an hour before, when she had actually yelled at two crewmen who were quietly chatting while they performed their duties. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been the first such incident since Trip’s departure, but certainly the most public. Nor, she suspected, would it be the last. Perhaps I should request that the captain relieve me of my duties until this matter is resolved. She considered the idea for a moment before dismissing it. No. That would not help. I simply must try harder to prevent such outbursts in the future. Lt. Reed had given her an astonished look before quickly returning his gaze to his own station after he saw the expression on her face. Embarrassed at her lapse (and fighting to rein in her irritation), she apologized to the crewmen, stating that she had been under some strain the past few days. They’d accepted the apology, but the rest of the shift had passed in silence except when it was absolutely necessary to speak. The bridge crew traded glances whenever they felt it was safe to do so, each thinking to themselves that maybe Lt. Reed ought to find out what exactly was wrong or possibly suggest that she take a break. Malcolm, for his part, after seeing her expression, sincerely hoped that they weren’t due a repeat of her actions on the Seleya. Especially since he didn’t have a phase pistol handy that he could stun her with if necessary. She’d looked nearly as out of control in the instant he’d glanced up at her as she had on that ship in the expanse. But she’d quickly regained her impassive mask, so he’d said nothing. He did, however, make a mental note to mention the incident to the captain prior to dinner tonight, before the Subcommander arrived. It had just been so, well, out of character for her to behave in such a fashion. T’Pol decided that she would go sickbay once her shift ended and see if perhaps Phlox could help her reign in her emotions. She had taken to meditating in the morning, after she was certain that Trip had started his shift on Columbia, in hopes of regaining some of her emotional control, but it only was working to a certain extent. Perhaps Phlox would have some other ideas on how to keepmy emotions in check. The thought of Trip brought back the memory of last night’s dinner conversation with Archer. She had reviewed the list afterwards, and contacted several of her former associates who were now stationed on Earth, asking for their help in solving the puzzle. Her associates had agreed to look into the matter, but even they weren’t certain if they could come up with the answers she sought within the time frame she’d given them. She’d kept the concerns she and the captain shared from Trip during their time together in her meditation space the night before, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hide her worries from him. Right now she was regretting her promise to Trip to wait a few more days before contacting T’Pau for aid in reuniting them. t&t T’Pol entered sickbay shortly after her shift ended and stood still for a moment, listening, before calling out, “Doctor?” There was no immediate response, and she debated for a few seconds whether she really wanted to discuss her problem with someone else. It is just Phlox, she told herself. He has proven his discretion in the past. “Ah, Commander, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Phlox appeared from the recesses of sickbay a moment later. “What can I do for you?” She shifted uncomfortably. Another of Trip’s bad habits, she told herself and forced her body to still. “I am having difficulty controlling my emotions,” she reluctantly admitted. He gave a her a serious look. “I did tell you, Commander, that the trellium-D you used last year has left your neural pathways damaged, and that you would be unable to regain complete control of your emotions,” Phlox reminded her. He nevertheless picked up a handy scanner from a nearby counter and started to examine her. “I am aware of that, doctor. And I have adjusted to that loss of control. But what is occurring now is not related to that.” Finishing his scan, Phlox studied the readings for a moment. “Hmmm. Interesting,” he said after a minute, but didn’t elaborate. T’Pol waited for him to continue, growing more impatient with each second of silence. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to say more, she asked in an annoyed tone, “What is interesting?” “Oh, these readings, Commander. I’ve seen something similar recently and just found it curious that your readings resemble those.” He told her, hearing the annoyance in her tone. Phlox double-checked the current scan with one he’d taken of her a few weeks before as he waited to see how she would respond. Trip, she realized. He’s talking about the scan he did of Trip. She remembered that the engineer had come to the doctor seeking help while he was on Enterprise. Trip had thought Phlox might have somehow picked up evidence of their bond when he’d scanned him. She simply raised her eyebrow at the doctor, but didn’t ask anything further about the readings. Phlox was disappointed that she said nothing more, though he hadn’t really expected her to elaborate. “You say that this erosion of your control isn’t due to the trellium damage. Which implies that you do know what it causing it.” He had a pretty good guess as well, after seeing those readings, but waited to see if she would tell him herself. “Yes, but it is a private matter.” She unconsciously shifted her feet again, uncomfortable with the idea of mentioning the bond to him. “You must be aware, Commander, that anything you tell me will be kept in the strictest confidence. And if you do not tell me what you believe is causing the more pronounced loss of control, then it is that much harder for me to come up with a workable treatment.” She remained silent, much to his frustration. “Can you at least tell me how long you have been experiencing these episodes?” She inclined her head slightly. “It has been occurring for several days now.” “Indeed.” Phlox considered her words and the readings he’d just taken. “The past three or four days, you‘d say?” T’Pol met his gaze. “That is correct.” “Hmmm.” What T’Pol said, or rather not said, confirmed in his mind what he’d suspected ever since the incident with the Orion women. It had been entirely too odd that out of all the human males on board, the only one not affected by them was Commander Tucker. And Phlox knew the Commander spent more time with her than anyone else on board, including the captain. And the only other person unaffected was T’Pol, due to her Vulcan physiology, according to what Commander Tucker had told him. Phlox was certain there was something more going on between them, and nearly positive that it had to do with the anomalous readings he’d detected in an area of Commander Tucker’s brain that normally went unused by humans, but in Vulcans was responsible for their psychic ability. Especially since Commander T’Pol’s readings had also shown increased activity, though not as much as Tucker’s had. Of course, Phlox reflected, she already possessed the ability, even if it was undeveloped, it simply needed to be used, whereas Trip had virtually none before. T’Pol was standing there, with an expression on her face which, if he saw it on someone else in the crew, Phlox would label as impatient. “I’m sorry, Commander, I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment. I’m afraid there’s really not much I can do for you. I can give you a neural inhibitor, but what you need more than anything is meditation. I suggest you try adding an extra hour to your normal regimen for the next few days, to try and clear your mind of these extraneous emotions.” Privately he thought that there was only one thing that could help her if what he suspected was going on was true. “I am not certain that will be possible, doctor. But I will try. Thank you.” She turned to leave. Phlox’s voice stopped her before she reached the door, though. “Has the Captain had any luck in getting Commander Tucker transferred back to Enterprise?” He knows. A flush darkened her face, and she was grateful that she was facing away from him so the doctor couldn’t see it. In a tightly controlled voice, she answered, “No. He has encountered some difficulties in securing the transfer.” “I see.” Phlox replied. “If I can be of any service in getting the commander back, just let me know.” “I will pass the message along to the captain, doctor. Thank you.” T’Pol stepped out of sickbay before he could say anything else. The doctor’s offer of help was unexpected, but nevertheless appreciated. t&t As Trip settled onto his bunk, he grinned, remembering what T’Pol had agreed to a few days before. He thought he’d surprise her tonight. He lay back, relaxed his breathing just as she had taught him, and focused on both T’Pol and a favorite beach of his, hoping that she wouldn’t mind the redecoration he planned for her white space. And he silently hoped that he could manage it on his own. His eyelids drifted shut as his breathing evened out, and then Trip felt the subtle shift in his mind that he had come to recognize meant he’d reached the meditation space. He frowned, though, as he sensed that T’Pol’s presence was decidedly absent. He knew it even without looking. Did I do something wrong? Maybe because I divided my attention between her and the beach, I ended up here while she was somewhere else? He wondered to himself, still not opening his eyes. He absently twirled his tongue around the inside of his cheek as he thought of other possible reasons for her not being here. She could have been called to the bridge, or be on an away mission, could be doing paperwork… He tried to keep his worries at bay. She isn’t hurt, he reminded himself. She told me the bond would let me know if something like that happened. Feeling a bit better, he cracked open his eyes and stared in amazement. Wow, he thought as he took in the view. When I think of something, I go all out. The blank vista he was used to seeing whenever he arrived here had vanished. Instead, a wide expanse of sand met a sparkling ocean. He realized that he’d been hearing the repetitive sound of the surf breaking since almost the moment he’d felt himself shift into this place. The muted cries of seagulls overhead, the salty smell of the ocean, even the warmth of the sun-drenched sand beneath his now bare feet had all been present, but he’d been too preoccupied with T’Pol’s absence to notice. Guess I did it right floated across his mind as he looked around and spotted a large beach blanket not too far away. Glancing down at himself, Trip found that he wore nothing except a pair of colorfully decorated swim trunks. Raising his eyes towards the beckoning waters once more, he decided that he might as well enjoy himself while waiting for T’Pol to come, and headed off for a relaxing swim. Trip waded out into the warm surf, delighting in the feel of the water swirling around his lean frame as he made his way out far enough to dive under. This was the one thing he really missed while serving on a starship--not being able to go for a swim or diving except on the rare away mission. The brief thought that possibly there were predators lurking out here crossed his mind, but it quickly vanished as he remembered that he had created this place and why would he put something in it that could harm him? Diving down, he skimmed along the ocean floor, startling a school of colorful fish from his path. Then he headed back to the surface for some much needed air, feeling content, and floated along the surface as the warm breeze caressed him. He alternated between drifting lazily along the surface and swimming for close to an hour before sensing a change. He’d been searching the seafloor for shells, having had the vague idea of giving them to T’Pol as a gift even if this place only existed in their minds, when it happened. Knowing without a doubt what it meant, he swam quickly upwards, water cascading from him as he broke the surface, shaking his head a bit and turning automatically towards the shore. Trip spied her, standing on the sand, wearing his favorite of her uniforms, the red one. He met T’Pol’s searching gaze, a shiver of need slicing through him when he did so, and started back to the beach. t&t T’Pol entered her quarters finally after her frustratingly long day. After she had left Phlox, she had gone to the mess hall for dinner with the captain and Lt. Reed, who kept giving her worried glances whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. The captain too seemed to be watching her carefully, and she wondered if he had learned of her outburst on the bridge earlier that day. It is a reasonable assumption. Most likely the lieutenant informed him of it. He would certainly be remiss not to do so. The captain had explained to the lieutenant what he’d told her the night before about his difficulties with Trip’s transfer back to Enterprise, and Lt. Reed had offered to help in whatever way he could. So the captain had assigned him to help her, because of his connections which had recently come to the captain’s attention. The captain still wasn’t very happy with Lt. Reed’s former career, and that and Jon’s belief that he could get Trip transferred without anyone else’s help was why Archer hadn’t asked the lieutenant before. Afterwards, T’Pol had found herself in the Malcolm’s company until a short time ago, when she pointed out, as tactfully as possible considering her eroding emotional control, that she needed to meditate and he should get some sleep, so they could hopefully start out fresh in the morning. Reed had agreed, and left for his own quarters. So, filled with disappointment, she sat down in front of her meditation candles, reflecting as she lit them that it was unlikely that Trip would be in her white space tonight. As far as either of them knew, he couldn’t get there without her already being present, though they had never actually tested that theory. Even if he had made there, she reasoned, it would be illogical to expect him to still be there. He knows that I should have been meditating over an hour ago. Most likely he would have waited a short time, then gone on to bed when it became apparent that I wasn’t coming. But then T’Pol should have remembered that her mate wasn’t the most logical of beings. And when she opened her eyes in her meditation space, she was astounded by the sight which greeted her. I was not thinking of a tropical beach. So why is there one in my meditation space? The gentle breeze which blew through the tops of the nearby palm trees rustled lightly through her hair, and as she watched, several small crustaceans scuttled across the sand. Then she spied a set of half-filled footprints heading towards the ocean, and delight filled her as she realized that Trip had been here. No, she corrected herself, he is still here, knowing he was responsible for what she saw. Squinting her eyes, she tried to spot him among the bright shimmer of the waves. She had no luck finding him until suddenly his head and upper torso broke through the surface of a small wave. Water scattered off of his now darkened locks of hair as he turned towards shore, searching for her as he treaded water. She felt his gaze meet hers, sending a sudden surge of desire through her body, though which of them it belonged to, she didn’t know. A smile lit up his face when he spotted her, and he started swimming back towards her, calling out a greeting when he was sure she would hear him. Walking out of the surf, sunlight making the drops sliding down his muscular chest glisten, he approached her, gesturing at their surroundings at the same time, “Now, isn’t this better than all that nothin’?” T’Pol raised her eyebrow at him, but waited until he was directly in front of her before responding. “The purpose of meditation, Trip, is to purge one’s mind of excess clutter, not add to it.” “Maybe so,” Trip replied, his enthusiasm no less dampened, “but this is a lot prettier place to do that in than that white space you’re so fond of. Anyway,” he continued, as he reached out to pull her close to him, “it’s worth it to see you in that string bikini. You sure look stunnin’, T’Pol.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead as he embraced her. She blinked. “You are mistaken. I am not wearing a string bikini.” But as she reached around him to return his hug, though, she spied her bare arms and felt the distinct lack of fabric on her legs and abdomen. And she could feel sand beneath her feet. Frowning, she pulled out of his arms far enough to inspect herself, while Trip’s appreciative gaze followed hers down her nearly naked body. T’Pol saw that she was indeed wearing nothing more than a red string bikini. Meeting his eyes, she asked him confused, “Why am I wearing this?” She knew perfectly well what outfit she had been wearing when she arrived here. Trip ducked his head in embarrassment. “Well, I guess it’s my fault. I was kinda thinkin’ of how good you look in red, an’ that you were kinda overdressed for a day at the beach. So I must’ve pictured you in something’ a bit more appropriate for the settin’, ‘cause it was right after that I noticed you had a bikini on.” He sheepishly admitted. “You really do look amazin’, though.” Warmth spread through her at his words, joy that he found her pleasing. However, she placed a stern expression on her face as she recalled what Phlox had told her a few hours before. “I need to meditate. This setting is not conducive to such an activity for me.” She held back the reason she needed to meditate behind a shield, not wishing to trouble him. “C’mon, T’Pol,” he cajoled her. “It’s only one night. What harm could it do? And you did say that we could try a tropical beach settin’.” He pointed out while giving her his best pleading grin. She stifled a sigh, knowing that she had as much agreed to it and he would pester her until she gave in. “Very well. But is it necessary for me to be clothed in such a fashion?” I suppose I can meditate afterwards, she told herself. “Oh yeah. Very necessary, darlin’, as far as I’m concerned.” Trip drank in the sight of her, growing more aroused by the second. His need flowed across the bond, increasing her own. He traced his finger along the edge of her right ear, from lobe to its tip and then back down again, and felt her shiver with desire. He repeated it on her other ear, and T’Pol leaned into the contact, moaning softly. He planted light kisses from her forehead down to her succulent lips, and then slid his tongue inside her mouth when they parted slightly. Their tongues met and twined about each other as the kiss deepened. T’Pol, for her part, was busy stroking his back with one hand, while the other twisted itself in his hair, trying to pull him still closer to her. She didn’t object when he started backpedaling her across the sand towards the blanket while they kissed. Breaking apart briefly for air, Trip once more started kissing her, this time starting with her shoulders and proceeding up her neck until he reached her earlobe, which he nibbled on before proceeding to the tip of her ear, which he drew into his mouth and began to suck on, his tongue dancing along the edge, causing her to moan involuntarily with delight. She knew it was the bond making them act this way, but right then she didn’t care. Reaching the blanket and still sucking on her ear tip, Trip gently laid her down. Finally pulling away from her ear, he turned his attention to other parts of her body. Starting at her lips, he slowly kissed his way down her neck to her breasts while one of his hands traced idle designs across her abdomen. Glancing up at her momentarily for permission, he untied the top and tossed it aside, marveling again at her perfect bosom. Trip teased one of her nipples, while kissing his way in a spiral towards the other. He kept the fingers of his remaining hand busy dipping inside the bikini bottoms at erratic intervals and teasing her folds with his touch. T’Pol arched her pelvis towards him, wanting him do more but Trip took his time. After he finished with one breast, he moved to the other, not wanting it to feel left out. He squeezed the nipple on this one, then nibbled his way around it before planting a soft kiss on the tip. Then he slowly, agonizingly made his way down her stomach, twirling his tongue in her belly button as she moaned with desire. She again heaved her pelvis towards him, even as she tried to move his head and magical tongue towards the spot she most wanted him to touch, but Trip resisted her for the moment, intent on heightening her arousal still more. One hand now stroked her folds from the outside of the bikini bottoms, even as the other teased them from the inside. His lips moved closer to the spot, and T’Pol’s mind, aswirl with desire and longing, eagerly anticipated him reaching her core and delivering her from this pleasurable agony. But while he kissed, licked and nipped his way around the spot, he refused to go there. Frustrated, she yanked on his hair, making him yelp in astonishment, and pulled him to where she wanted him to be. He could smell her arousal, and his own was swiftly matching it. Relenting a little, he twined his fingers in the bottoms on each side, and slid them down her legs, trailing kisses again as he went. T’Pol, growing tired of his game, half sat up, intending to pull him once more back where she wanted him, when Trip returned there himself. He poked his nose in the now bare spot and breathed deeply, the scent going straight to his own most primitive instincts. His manhood hardened even further in response, as he danced his tongue all around the spot, darting it in and out, driving her to distraction. She wanted him in her now. Trip sensed her need, but wasn’t quite ready to relinquish to her demands yet. Instead, he gently worked one of his fingers into her hot core and wiggled it about, feeling her desire rebound back to him through the bond. A second finger joined the first after a few minutes, pushing T’Pol into further ecstasy as he added more kisses around her folds. Then he found the spot he wanted and pressed hard, and she gasped in surprise as a white hot sensation raced up her body straight to her mind, her eyes rolling back at the intensity, as she came around his fingers. Smiling, Trip withdrew his fingers as he watched her eyes slowly refocus on him, and sucked on each of them seductively as she watched. He moved back up her body to her lips and kissed her deeply, his tongue plunging in, bringing the taste of her own juices with it. T’Pol could feel his own arousal pressing against her, his own need unfulfilled, and she was determined that he would not have to wait long. Flipping him over as he kissed her, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She managed to work her hands inside his trunks and while one stroked him, the other was tugging them down his legs. She intended to take care of him as he had for her, and while Trip appreciated the gesture, he wasn’t done yet. He waggled a finger at her when she went to take him in her mouth, stepping just out of reach of her luscious lips, sending not yet, darlin’, I’m not finished, to her mind. He pushed her back down on the blanket, then positioned himself over her core, and entered her slowly until he was fully inside. They lay that way for a moment or two, then Trip began a slow rhythm that she eagerly matched. His lips were busy sucking on her earlobe, while his left hand twisted her nipple. She groaned with desire as their hips rocked in the ancient rhythm. Their movements increased, the sensations each was feeling buzzing back and forth between them thanks to their bond. Before long, both were near their respective climaxes, and while Trip wanted to make it last longer, he knew he couldn’t wait. He gripped her tightly as he shot his seed into her, both coming in a series of seemingly never-ending waves of pleasure, which overloaded their senses at the same time. Trip collapsed on top of her, exhausted and sweaty, once it finally subsided, then weakly pushed himself to her side, his eyes drifting closed. “That was amazin’, T’Pol. It was…it was...” Words failed him as he struggled to put two coherent thoughts together. “I mean, we’ve done this before, but it was nothin’ like that…” She reached over and caressed his face. “Heightened desire for one’s mate is one of the symptoms, if you recall, Trip.” Her voice was still husky, and her touch stirred his lower regions, which valiantly tried to regroup for another round of lovemaking. She continued to stroke his cheek, not wishing to break contact with him. “Yeah, but I didn’t expect anythin’ like that. I figured I’d have to take cold showers or somethin’, not be havin’ mind sex with you that was almost better than the real thing.” “When we’re back together, th’ai’la, I will give you a demonstration of how much better ‘the real thing’ is.” Her lips quirked upwards at the corners as he thought that over. She wanted to pleasure him as he had done for her, but reluctantly set aside that thought, as she recalled once again what Phlox had said. “But now we both need to rest.” She pulled herself from his arms and stood up. Trip wanted to protest her assertion that they needed to rest, feeling just about ready for another round, but he sighed instead. “I guess we better, I’ve got a long day tomorrow.” He changed the subject. “Has Jon been havin’ any luck with my transfer?” Her expression fell. “No. There have been difficulties at Command. Captain Hernandez does not wish to give you up.” Trip chuckled. “Well, I coulda told ya that. She as much as declared war the first night I was back here, and declared I’m the booty. How much longer do you think we got?” “I’m not sure. Maybe a week and an half, two at the outside. The symptoms seem to be increasing with each passing day. I don’t think we will have more than that.” A worry line creased her forehead between her eyebrows, as she debated whether she should try to convince him that they needed to do something to remedy their situation now. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Trip asked, longing to pull her close again, but holding back, knowing if he did they wouldn’t stop with cuddling this time, not with the way he was feeling. “Have you been havin’ trouble?” Thoughts of his own problems with being away from her were shoved aside. “It is still within tolerable limits.” She told him, then added at his concerned expression, “but I am experiencing some difficulty, yes, with my emotional control. It seems to be eroding.” “I’ll resign if you want me to, I’ll find someway to rejoin you…” She shook her head. “I can tolerate it for a little while longer.” Four more days, she told herself. Then I contact T’Pau and Soval whether Trip agrees or not. There are Vulcan ships easily within range of both Columbia and Enterprise, they could bring us together before the damage occurs. She knew that because she had been monitoring their coursesever since Trip left for Columbia. Now he did stand and reached out towards her hands. “Honey, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t asked for this damn transfer in the first place…” She let him touch her hands momentarily before moving again out of his reach. “It is not your fault, Trip. Both of us made mistakes, that is true. But if you had not left for Columbia, I likely would not have realized what we shared, and we would still be suffering from our own failed attempts at communication.” “I suppose so. Still, I can’t help feelin’ as though it’s my fault.” He admitted. His guilt reached through the bond towards her, guilt over leaving her and that he had caused her pain.She wished she could soothe it away, but mindful of Phlox's words, T’Pol reiterated, “It’s late, th’ai’la. We should get some rest.” He nodded, not really wanting to go but knowing she was right, and vanished after planting a soft goodbye kiss on her forehead. t&t Erika Hernandez smiled as she lay back on her bed. As soon as she had heard of Trip’s attempt to get a transfer back to Enterprise, she had started campaigning to keep him on Columbia. Long before he had ever beamed back on board, her friends at Command had already stopped several of Jon’s cronies in their tracks. She’d be the first to admit that she didn’t have nearly the same amount of clout as he did--she wasn’t the hero of the Xindi war, after all--but she did have resources of her own and knew how to use them to her advantage. Bet Jon’s wishing he never let Trip leave Enterprise now. Her latest successful block of Archer’s attempts to get her chief engineer back to Enterprise was what she was smiling about now. Dear Uncle Jeff and Aunt Tara, she thought, or I suppose I should say, Admirals Montgomery and Resnick. What would I do without them? And thank god Tucker requested the transfer himself rather than taking Starfleet up on one of the earlier offers. That last fact had certainly helped her arguments in keeping him on Columbia. She pointed out that the commander hadn’t requested a temporary reassignment to Columbia, no, he had asked to transfer off Enterprise. And just because he’d now decided that he’d made a mistake in coming here wasn’t a valid reason to send him back there. After all, the regulations were there for a reason, and Commander Tucker shouldn’t be an exception to the rules the rest of them were expected to live by. And, she had argued, she needed his expertise on Columbia. Her own engineers, while all very capable, didn’t have anywhere near the amount of deep space experience he did. Nor had any of them rewritten the physics books lately like he had in the expanse. Enterprise had more than its share of highly intelligent engineers with lots of deep space experience, they didn’t need another, she had told them. Still, as she reviewed a PADD of some of the names of the people who had countermanded the orders cut by Archer’s buddies to send Trip back to Enterprise, she wondered what exactly they were getting out of this. She knew what she wanted: to swipe the best engineer in the fleet from her former lover for her own ship. Nothing personal, of course, against Jon--she was just focused on getting the best crew she could, and that included Tucker in her estimation. The list contained the names of friends of both of them, and others who owed those people, but a handful were unknown quantities. Why they were interfering with Tucker’s transfer back to Enterprise puzzled her, yet she was grateful for their intervention. She wondered idly what Trip had done to tick them off, or if they were mad at Jon for some reason… Shaking her head, Erika grinned again as she set the PADD down to go to sleep. Wonder how long it’ll take Jon to admit that I beat him this time? t&t Early the next morning, Malcolm punched in a code he really had hoped to never use again. The captain and Commander T’Pol were both convinced that something odd was going on at Starfleet Command. Far too many people were involved in keeping Trip away from Enterprise, and they wanted to know why. Quite frankly, he was curious too. But he wasn’t sure if his old associate would help him or not. Captain Archer hadn’t been thrilled with his suggestion of asking Harris for help, but they were running out of options. And Malcolm knew if there was anyone on Earth who was likely to ferret out the information they needed quickly, it was his former employers. So the captain had given him permission to contact him. The security procedures to ensure that he was who he said he was, and that Harris was who he was supposed to be went through their checks, and after a few minutes, the older nondescript man himself was on his screen. “Well, Mr. Reed, I’m surprised to see your face again so soon. I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with us again. I believe your exact words were ‘Don’t ever contact me again.’” “Believe me, if it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t be contacting you.” Malcolm retorted. “Really? I don’t see how your captain’s inability to get your former chief engineer back on Enterprise is any of our concern.” Harris cut to the chase. Malcolm was momentarily taken aback that Harris already knew why he was calling, then remembered who he was talking to. “I see you have been keeping abreast of current events. Captain Archer believes that there is something else going on.” “There’s always something else going on, Lieutenant, as you should well know. I believe that several operatives of the Vulcan intelligence unit on Earth are already looking into the matter at your first officer’s request.” Malcolm didn’t deny his statement or even wonder how he knew about it. “The question is, what is in this for me?” Harris asked. “Why should I help you out?” “You could just do it out of the goodness of your heart,” Malcolm replied, “that is, if you had one.” Before the other man could reply, he continued. “The Vulcans will look for the logical reasons for why they would be doing this, but the people involved are human--illogical, irrational humans filled with emotions--hardly their cup of tea. But if you want a reason, I suggest you check the list of names of people that have stopped Commander Tucker’s transfer orders. While some of them are clearly just repaying favors for others, there are several getting involved who shouldn’t have any say whatsoever over where the commander is posted. And yet, the orders get squelched each time it reaches one of them.” “What makes you think that I haven’t already checked them out?” Malcolm leaned forward. “I have no doubt that you have complete dossiers on all of them by now, if you didn’t already. You probably know more about them than their own families.” Harris wore a small amused smile at Malcolm’s declaration. “I would think that if there is another group operating in a similar fashion to yours on Earth that you might be interested, if only so you could keep tabs on them." "And they could be members of our organization, Lieutenant, simply carrying out their orders."The older manpointed out. "That's true," Malcolm agreed. "And I'm taking a chance by asking you for help. But if they'renot, then I doubt you would be too pleased with another such group operating within Earth's governmental structure without your knowledge." Harris didn't respond, merely inclined his head slightly, indicating he was listening. "But even if there is no other organization involved, and it's just your group pulling the strings behind the scenes, I’m sure that Starfleet Command or perhaps the press would be interested to hear about it…as well as some of your other activities.” “Blackmail now, Lieutenant?” Harris asked, unperturbed. “It would be most difficult for you to prove any of what you believe you know about our activities. And both the press and Starfleet Command would most assuredly want proof.” “I have my memories of what I did for your organization.” Malcolm didn’t mention that he had proof hidden away of some of the things he’d done. “Oh, so now you’re making a valiant offer to sacrifice your own career just to get your friend back? Touching.” Harris eyed him for several moments, gauging how serious Malcolm was about doing this, then finally agreed. “I’ll look into it.” Malcolm started to smile in relief when Harris raised his hand, one finger pointing up, “But I make no promises that I will share any information I learn with you, however. After all, you no longer work for us.” Malcolm started to protest, but Harris continued on. “If, however, I see a way which could result in getting your chief engineer back on your ship, then I may pass that information on, Lieutenant. Out of the goodness of my heart. But you will owe us, like it or not.” Malcolm sighed, then nodded in agreement, knowing it was the best offer he was going to get. Harris cut the connection before Lt. Reed could say anything more. I hope he can help. And that I didn’t just make a big mistake by asking for his help. Thoughts of what kind of repayment Harris might want in return kept filling his mind the rest of the day. Best tell the captain that he’s agreed to work on it. Malcolm turned off his monitor and left his quarters to give his report to the captain. t&t To Be Continued... Return to Chapter 1 |
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