Lies for Breakfast

Disclaimer: Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

 Rating: R

 Time-line: This story takes place during the episode Harbinger.

 Author's note: Please be aware that this story is R-rated for good reasons. Thanks to my beta's Honeybee and EntAllat and to everyone who has encouraged me to write.

It was done.

She lay down on the bed, draped in a silk sheet that emphasized every curve of her body. Every curve of her body that had been touched in a hunger that seemed to grow instead of being stilled as their relations reached fruition. The coldness she now felt only made it worse. She felt a emptiness, a void in her katra, now that she was no longer wrapped in his arms.  An unpleasant ache inside of her made it impossible to deny what happened.  It was done. There was no turning back. She felt a panic rising as the emotions of the last hours washed over her again, especially when she closed her eyes and let the memories come.

She had intended it to happen. It was part of the plan she had formulated ever since she had realized she was going to lose Trip. In spite of his interest in her, the hours spent together and their friendship, he had taken to a Human woman and shared his heart with her about his sister. He had done neuropressure with her, as if their time together performing neuropressure had meant nothing to him. Cole had told T'Pol that they had so much in common, that he felt so at home with her.

If that wasn't enough he had allowed the Cole woman to touch him publicly on his behind. It was as if Cole had thought she owned him and wanted to make sure everybody knew they belonged together.

T'Pol knew that she should have simply accepted Trip’s relationship with Cole.  Cole was Human; she knew Trip’s culture; she could give him the emotional support he needed. It was a good match. But logic had abandoned T’Pol and left only a burning jealousy behind in its place. Flames had washed over her. She wanted Trip to be hers. Hers alone. And so she had planned to claim him, the way a Human would, before a Human – Cole – could.

 T'Pol kissed him. She kissed him with a urgency that she had felt ever since she knew he had feelings for her. Trip kissed her back, surprised first, then hungry, which only urged her on. The fire hadn't left her and under her cool appearance she burned to act. So she dropped the robe, a clear indication of her intent.

Trip gave her a shocked look. He was clearly not expecting this. To her disappointment, in clear contradiction of the feelings he just admitted and the arousal she could smell on him, he didn't act. Instead he seemed uncomfortable and asked “You know, I’m flattered, but are you sure?”

Why should she not be? Was the prospect so strange for him? She walked to him, wanting to kiss and feel him and to make him understand. “This is what I want.” Then she kissed him again, a deep searching kiss, like drinking water after a walk in the desert. He kissed her back, at first almost in disbelief, but then slowly with a growing hunger and passion. She felt a tongue in her mouth and she coughed.

What was that?

Then she remembered her study of Human sexuality. “I thought only the French kissed this way.”

Trip grinned. “Not only the French,” he said in a teasing tone. “Just follow my lead.”

T'Pol did just that, suppressing the thought that this wasn't very hygienic. She soon forgot about that, especially as Trip started to explore her body with his hands and mouth. It created waves of pleasure that she didn't want to stop.  

 She thought she had learn a lot at movie nights and that her studies had been thorough. But she suddenly realized she had no idea how to respond to what he was doing. So she started to mimic his movements. He seemed to enjoy her actions and she felt a deep satisfaction hearing his enjoyment. Their movements intensified. Everything faded away and there was only his cold skin beneath her fingers, her moving her hands on his chest, her mouth in his neck, tasting him, feeling him, smelling him. He nibbled on her ear lobe, letting her feel more and more, pleasure filling her veins. There was only a longing to become one.

 And everywhere there were the emotions: clear like bloodstone, real and intense.  Emotions like joy, desire, pleasure, and safety.  She tasted them.  She experienced them.  She enjoyed them with every fiber of her being.

 Then he stopped. He lay on top of her, pushing his shoulders slightly upwards. He searched her face. He looked at her if he wanted to drink every line of her face. On instinct, she caressed his blond hair, felt the soft structure of his hair. Her fingers slowly followed the lines of his face tenderly. She caressed his temples and he closed his eyes as she steadily showed him her love.

 She remembered his curiosity at the first meeting. His jealousy when she left with the captain on the mission to Pernaia Prime to catch Menos. His admiration, seeing her in the candlelight when they had neuropressure. His care of her after she was attacked by Raijin.

She removed her hands and it all faded. He opened his blue eyes; they were shining with a new light. He smiled in acceptance. Gladly, she returned his kiss when he started again.

 The waves of pleasure washed over her, when a piercing pain filled her. She was hurting.

 Trip stopped. He looked at her, rather perplexed. “You okay?” he said gently.

 “Continue,” she whispered. He did and soon he was losing himself in his rhythm.

When she finally experienced something  that only could be described as euphoria, she knew it was his pleasure she was feeling. Her inside was painful and parched, but the pain diminished when he kissed her again in her neck, on her lips, happy and pleased.

He laid next to her. “Can't believe this,” he uttered, his whole face smiling. He put his arms around her. Her body softened when he kissed her tenderly on her mused hair. She communicated her contentment by kissing him and he returned the kiss with the same eagerness. “You're the best,” he said.

She couldn't help it, but for some illogical reason his remark made her go back in time, every time she had been jealous of a woman that Trip seemed close to. It filled her with sadness. It was an overwhelming sense of grief and pain, which she tried to control. She couldn't. Her control was gone. Without control, only chaos and destruction would wait for her.

 Strangely, when he pulled her closer into his arms and fell asleep next to her, his touch was soothing. But it was not enough to still the storm inside.  She had lost control and now only chaos was there to greet her. The order on which her life was built was gone.

 How could she regain her control?

 Unable to answer that question, she stood up, leaving the sleeping man behind. It was normal for Humans to fall asleep, this she knew from her study of human sexuality. Or did it indicate he didn't find this so life changing as she did?

 T'Pol stepped into the shower. She washed herself. The water warmed her bones. A haze of steam surrounded her, as she placed her head on the stream of the water. Without seeing, she heard Trip entering the shower. His hands started to massage her back with soft strokes. She felt her body relax under his tender ministrations and she turned around. She kissed him and the passion stirred up again. Desire, longing, sweetness, she felt herself lost in the overwhelming emotions. Lips on her, hands on her back, her hands on his. Desire, longing, sweetness. To touch him and to be touched. Two parts becoming a whole -  never parted.

 They would be parted.

 It hit her hard.

 They would be parted. He would grow tired of her and she would be lost. Her emotions would lead to destruction. She never would understand him. Never would meet his needs. She was Vulcan; he was Human. Her emotional imbalance would lead to chaos, from chaos to destruction. His destruction.

 Panic overcame her and she pushed him away. Trip tumbled against her bathroom wall. He looked stunned.

 She ran out of the shower, leaving Trip behind and walked into her living quarters. T'Pol started absently to dry herself, when she heard Trip had followed her. She turned around to see him standing in the bathroom door, drops of water dripping from his body.

He just stared at her. “T'Pol,” he said her name, with a question in his tone she couldn't answer.

 “You need a towel to dry yourself,” she said. “I will get you one.”

 He kept on looking at her when she handled him one. Their hands touched.

 “T'Pol,” he repeated with a hoarse voice.

 Suddenly, the sharp sound of the alarm pierced through her quarters.  “It's tactical alert,” she informed him, avoiding to look at him. “You should go.”

 He quickly dried his body and he slipped into his clothes.  “I better run to my quarters to get my uniform and then off to engineering,” he commented.

 For a second he hesitated, and she thought he would kiss her. Instead, he stepped to the door. There he stood still and said “See you at breakfast?”

 She nodded and then he was gone.

Breakfast had been a disaster. That was only one word to describe it, even when that word sounded far too emotional.

 That morning T'Pol had made up her mind. She would explain to Trip that she understood they both had been curious. Curiosity was a good trait. However, their curiosity didn't mean she expected a commitment from him now they had been mated. She knew Trip didn't want that, and so she should prevent any more attachment between them. It was better, for him, for her.

 He had been in a good mood. But as soon as she spoke, she could see his face change. Trip sounded almost insulted, and he bizarrely mentioned experiments and lab rats. She didn't see the connection between her first statement about being curious.

 She hadn't said experiment, as she pointed out to him. Science dealt with fact, it was collected and never illogical. Not like this emotional Human.

 T'Pol had to contain the damage her words seemed to have done. He was her friend and his friendship was of great value to her.  At the end of their conversation Trip seemed to cool down and suggested neuropressure again. She had achieved her goal: logic had guided her again.

 During the day she held on to the thought, but when evening came and she was alone in her quarters, her control was slipping.

 She clutched the thin sheet, which still smelled of him, closer to her. She felt as if she was falling into a pit of loneliness and drowning in a sea of loss.

 She quickly stepped out of the bed, almost falling in the process. Her feet led her to the door, her hands ready to open it and walk into his quarters. She must see Trip and tell him the truth.

 Then she saw how her hands shook ever so slightly and she was reminded of her fragile emotional state. To find balance again was of the essence. Her logic, rooted deep in her katra, stopped her. She took a deep, cleansing breath, walked away from the door and searched for her meditation candle. She had to meditate and regain her control. T'Pol took her seat on the pillow, lightened the candle and started her meditation. She took every emotion and placed it under lock and key, deep within her mind. 

 The logical thing was to leave things as they were. Her loss of emotional control had let her desire and passion for him to engulf her. It was a consuming fire that would burn them both and in the end would destroy him.

 She had only to live with the fact that last night did happen, that in her quest for feeling she had forgotten the wisdom of Vulcan control. She had gone too far. There was nothing she could to change that.

 It was done.