Wrecked

CHARACTERS: Trip/T'Pol
RATING: R for sexual situations and profanity
SUMMARY: Sometimes love can be so destructive…
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise, Trip, and T'Pol belong to CBS/Paramount, not me. I just took them out and had a little fun with them. The situation I put them is my own idea, though, so nobody get any funny ideas about saying otherwise. This was a labor of love; no money was made from this little adventure. So relax.

Trip was still panting as he rolled onto his back. "That was good."

"That was…unexpected," T'Pol said breathlessly as she collapsed onto him. "Are you injured?"

Trip shook his head. "You?"

"No."

They lay there for an indeterminate amount of time, trying to regain their senses.

"The bond is getting stronger," T'Pol observed after a while. Unwilling to take her eyes off Trip, she blindly groped for a blanket to cover their cooling, perspiration-slicked bodies.

"That's not the only thing," Trip said wryly. He shifted, propping himself up onto an elbow. As soon as he saw their handiwork he burst out laughing. "Sonofabitch!"

Trip had heard locker room talk about this kind of thing before, but he thought it was the stuff of inflated egos and urban legend. The twisted metal and broken bolts and collapsed foam before him gave evidence to the contrary, and he made a mental note to rethink his skepticism. He was aware that things had been intensifying emotionally between him and T'Pol as their marital bond grew, but this…?

He grinned. "We just had a bed-wrecker!" It happened so fast, Trip hadn't been exactly sure how they ended up on the floor until he saw the poor, dilapidated bed frame. He and T'Pol had just reached a new level of telepathic awareness in their bond, in which their pleasures were mutually shared more now than ever. T'Pol seemed oblivious to their fall, so Trip had been determined not to stop until he felt her quivering in release against him.

"While I understand your self-satisfaction over your stamina and prowess," T'Pol began dryly, "I doubt you'd find it so humorous if your bed had been broken."

"Oh yeah, I would," Trip smirked. He felt her feigned annoyance at being bedless give way to contentment as his muscular arms swallowed her up.

T'Pol's fingers traced the curve of his triceps with gentle deliberation. "And where do you suggest I sleep tonight?" she asked almost coyly.

"Well, it wouldn't be right for me to break a woman's bed and leave her to sleep on the floor, now would it?" His lips found the tender spot behind her ear. "I think the gentlemanly thing to do would be to invite you to bunk with me tonight." Since committing to each other, Trip had spent his nights more often than not in T'Pol's quarters. It would be strange having her in his space for a change—strange, but definitely not unwelcome.

T'Pol shivered. "That would be agreeable compensation. However, I require…reparations."

Trip's mouth trailed down her throat, and he felt arousal wash away her contentment. "Don't worry," he assured her. "I'll fix it after my shift tomorrow. And I'll reinforce the frame…for next time." He carefully lowered her back to the floor.

"What are you doing?" The wondrous chaos inside was starting once more. T'Pol's body tingled as the little caresses on the insides of her thighs began.

His lips meandered back to her mouth. Their breathing became ragged again. "We gotta try to get this out of our systems now," he answered hoarsely. "Otherwise, we won't have anywhere to sleep tonight if we break my bed, too."

T'Pol raked her fingers through his hair. "Your logic is im…mmmmmmm…oh…"

END