Damage Control

by Kat NC-17

Spoilers: season three, mostly Hurlbringer er Harbinger, and E2. Consider it an episode addition to E2.  I take creative license to rewrite the scenes to better suit my story.

Special thanks to Monica for her betaing, and encouragement. You are the best my friend. Thanks. And also for Mana for the "Smut Smut Smut" chant (insisting that it has been too long since I've posted smut, and for insisting she isn't the only one who'd like to read a new story). I also want to send a thanks out to Ra for being a secondary sounding board.  This story almost didn't get posted because I'm still not sure I like it.  Hope you do however.  Sorry gang, I'm a little rusty.... snirk.

 

Sickbay, after receiving the news that Lorian was the son of Trip and T'Pol.

"Trip? You married and made a child with Trip?" Archer's disbelief was palpable. He walked around her, his eyes considering. "Do you... want these things with him?"

As they faced off, Phlox wisely slipped from sight.

T'Pol shrugged. "Commander Tucker and I have grown closer over the last year, but I do not wish to share a life with him. Our one intimate encounter was less than satisfactory and..."

Hurt radiated off Archer as he interrupted. "You were intimate with Trip?"

"Yes, but..."

"Why?"

"I wanted to experiment with human emotions and sexuality. Commander Tucker was... convenient."

"I see." He didn't say anything else, just turned and left. His thoughts were racing. How could she? How could he? His best friend and the woman he... no, that thought was taking it too far. He wanted to scream and rage at the injustice of it, but how could he? What right did he have to object to anything T'Pol chose to do? He was her Captain, not her keeper. What he wouldn't give to be her keeper though. He pushed the thought aside abruptly. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Hell, he couldn't afford any distractions on this whole damn mission.

T'Pol stared at the door for several moments after Archer left. She was about to leave when Phlox came back into the room. The physician didn't give her any time to comment as he spoke. "The Captain was disturbed by your revelation." A brow rose sharply at his comment, but she remained silent. "Perhaps you should explain things to him?"

"It was his choice to leave before I could say anything. It is not as though he has the right to object."

"True, true, but human males are much more possessive than Denobulans, and far more emotional than Vulcans. I believe he has feelings for you."

She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts. "We shall see Doctor." With that she left, her thoughts in turmoil. Why would Archer care that she had been intimate with Tucker? It wasn't like they had a personal relationship beyond friendship, and they had barely had that since this mission had begun. With yet another shake of her head, she ruthlessly buried those thoughts. Now was not the time, for she simply couldn't afford the distractions.

 

Ready Room, after crossing the tunnel

Archer moved closer to her.  "Since we weren't thrown into the past... maybe history somehow corrected itself."

"Are you suggesting that the other Enterprise never existed? If you're right...then why would we remember them?"

"I don't know why we remember. It was one possibility... You could still make your part of it come true."

"It is fascinating to know Phlox will be able to help us overcome the issue of cross species breeding."

Jonathan's hands clenched into fists and he faced the monitors, hoping to find a measure of calm. "Lorian was a handsome blend of you and Trip."

"Yes. My older counterpart encouraged me to explore my relationship with Commander Tucker." She couldn't say what prompted her to tell him, some devil she wasn't sure she should listen to, but seemed unable to deny.

"I see..." He didn't, not really. Why couldn't the woman see what was in front of her, namely him?

She tipped her head to the side. If anything he seemed pale and perhaps angrier than he had  been over the last 8 months. "We shared tea. She said he helped me explore so many human emotions. She couldn't imagine her life without him."

She jerked as Archer growled and spun toward her. "I wish you well then, and everything you want." He started toward the door, but she stepped in front of him..

"Do you?"

"What?"

"Wish me everything I want?"

Jealousy warred with his affection for her. The stars drew his eyes and duty laid down the final coat. He sighed scrubbing his hand over his face. "Of course I do. You are my friend and I want you to be happy. I want all of us to be happy."

"If you want me to be happy and you say you are my friend, then why have you pulled away from me? You've pushed me away. You've been surly and anti-social. I have missed... our talks and dinners."

He seemed to deflate with her words. "Yes, I've pushed you away. I've had to harden myself for this mission, do what had to be done. I knew coming out here that even more lives would be lost in this senseless war we fight. I'm an explorer. I want to take the time to get to know all these people. I want to study the wonders around me. Instead I'm forced to lead an army into battle. I'm forced to see people I care about die. I keep telling myself, maybe if I don't care as much, if I push them away, it won't hurt as much to lose them. It doesn't work, so I push harder, all in an effort to finish it off and make it end. The sooner this is over, the better." He paused, taking her in. She had changed in the last year, in more ways than one. Her appearance captivated him. She seemed softer somehow out of that Vulcan cat suit. Not that the outfits she wore now were any less revealing, but they were more flattering with their colors. Her hair was longer, giving her a much more fragile, ethereal look, and her eyes, well they spoke more fluently than before. He wanted to draw her close, hold her tight, and protect her with everything in him. Yet fighting in that same space was the desire to take all that she was and consume it and her. The very force of it was enough to make him shake and he cautiously stepped away from her. The need to know drove him, especially now that he knew the rumors were true. "Why Trip? Why did you choose him?"

She studied him for a long moment before responding, as if she were measuring him and her answer. "He was... convenient."

That sucked the air from his lungs. "And if I had been convenient?"

Her eyes were almost sad, though there was something else there as well. "You have never been convenient, Captain."

Pain slammed into him, and for the second time he turned away. "I see..." he stated, though he didn't. He left without another word, more hurt then he wanted to admit.

T'Pol stared after him, unsure of his reaction. How could she explain when she didn't understand the emotions behind the words? Archer was so much more than convenient. She debated a moment and decided she had to explain, but first, she needed to meditate to put it all in perspective and enhance her calm.

 

>>>>

Archer paced his quarters. Thoughts roared through his head. He plopped down on the edge of his bed and rested his head in his hands. He needed to think it all out, let it flow, then maybe he could bury them again.

There are some days when it simply doesn't pay to get out of bed. Of all the things I've learned in my life this is one of the consistent and sometimes the most unfair. There are times when it doesn't matter who you are or what you do, how kind you are or how evil. There are times that no matter what you have to do and who needs you, that life is going to slap you down. If you're of a pessimistic bend, the simple response tends to be, why bother. Me on the other hand, I take the slap and attempt to pick myself up off the ground. If the slap knocks me cold for a couple of hours, I eventually stumble to my feet, grab an ice pack and pray it doesn't leave a bruise. The worst, however, is when it knocks you down so hard you lose touch with who you are. Those are the worst knocks in creation and everybody experiences them at one time or another. So what do you do then? Well, I like to pull the covers up over my head and pray tomorrow will be a better day. Unfortunately it rarely works, and I have to get up, stretch out all the kinks, and try to find my path again. Sometimes it ends up being an entirely different path. The worst thing about these blows, is the damage they do to the soul. Invariably they alter and shake the belief in oneself. In some ways that can be a good thing, in that we look at ourselves differently. However, looking at yourself in a new way can harm as well. I prefer to keep an open mind and try to find the positive in things, but sometimes, I just want to be a child again, and allow my parents to tuck those covers around me and attempt to protect me by worrying about the big stuff.

And so I ramble in my thoughts. They are foremost in my mind today because I've had a couple of those blows. Because I am Captain of a Starship, I can't cover my head and hide. Instead I have to face my demons head on and I really don't like what I see. What could I possibly have to complain about you ask? Well, there are the little things. The mild punches that have knocked me down but not out for the count. And then there is the Xindi and the Expanse. I hate this place. There is nothing here for me but anger and death, and a loneliness so pervasive that it eats away what little bit of myself I've managed to keep. I have pushed everyone away, drawing the mantel of command tight about me. I have even pushed away T'Pol. She has me so wrapped up in knots, I don't even know what to say to her. Who would have thought a Vulcan...

A Vulcan... there it is in a nutshell. The root and source of my disquiet and misery. The reason I'm second guessing myself and wishing I were a child so someone else could be responsible for my issues. A Vulcan.... A beautiful, intelligent, sexy woman with a heart of gold. Oh she'd tell you that her actions were logical, not driven by her emotions, but dammit I've seen her eyes. I've seen the banked emotions there, simmering beneath the surface and damned if it doesn't make me want to challenge her, to push her, just to see if she will crack. And the worst part, I know she will eventually. I'm tied up because somewhere along the line I lost sight of her as a Vulcan and began seeing her as a woman, and not just any woman mind you, but one I admire and, well, love. So why would that tie me up in knots and scare the hell out of me? Because she is a Vulcan and I'm a human, her Captain, and never the twain shall meet. Sounds silly I know, but honestly, my people would frown on both of us and so would hers. I can't believe she turned to Trip, my best friend. I thought there was something between us. I thought he understood that. Apparently I'm only seeing what I want to see, and it hurts so much. How could she use Trip for that kind of experiment? It frightens me that I want and need her so much, so I keep pulling that blanket over my head, and wishing that it's not true, and if it happens again, that I am here and she turns to me.

The chime from his door interrupted his musings. Since he was already standing, he opened the door himself, surprised to see the object of his reflections on the other side. He couldn't quite bite back the bitterness in his tone. "What do you want?"

She blinked. "I needed to talk to you. May I come in?"

He was about to say no when a curious crewman passed by. Frustration radiated off him as he stepped back to allow her room to enter. As the door closed, he towered over her. "Make it quick, I've got things to do."

The brusque words confused her. She glanced at the door and then back at him. His anger she had faced before but this anger made her uneasy. "I can come back another time if you prefer, but I would prefer to take care of this now."

Archer grunted and crossed his arms over his chest.

She wanted to pace, but he was blocking the route. As he shifted again, her eyes were drawn to his chest, the defined lines of it, even through his shirt. "Why are you so angry about my relationship with Commander Tucker?"

He hadn't been expecting the question and the anger left him as he thought about it. "I'm not really upset about your relationship with Trip..." He focused in on her again, caressing the delicate features. Frustration sparked anew, filled with want for things he couldn't have. He turned abruptly, raking his fingers through his hair. "The hell I'm not... Dammit, I don't have the time and energy for this!" He faced her once more, his hands tunneling into the pockets of his trousers. "Look, I know I don't have the right and I shouldn't have let it get to me. I've just been feeling territorial. We've become friends and I care about you. I thought you felt the same way."

She studied him for a long moment. "You are my friend and there is no one I trust more."

His brow crinkled in confusion. "You trust me, but I'm not convenient for your explorations in intimacy?"

"No. You never have been."

His eyes closed as he tried to push away the hurt. They snapped open as she touched his arm. The very touch was out of sync for her. "I do not think you understand and I am not communicating well." Her eyes locked with his. "You have been my Captain, my friend, my mentor, my confidant, and my champion. All of those things have evolved over time and made an impact on my very being. They are memories and experiences I can never walk away from. They affect my decisions and how I interact with the crew. What they are not is... convenient. There is too much at stake for you and I to be intimately involved. You are not something I could walk away from."

He blinked at her dumbly. "Why didn't you talk to me about it?"

"When I first started thinking about experimenting with human emotions and sexuality, I couldn't approach you. Ever since we've entered the Expanse, you've been moody and focused on other things. I didn't feel comfortable coming to you. I knew you wouldn't approve." She sat slowly on the edge of his bed and focused on her hands. "There is something else I need to tell you." Her eyes met his briefly before flitting back to her hands.

He felt raw and uncertain, not sure whether he should rejoice in what she was telling him or to hide from it. He focused in on her as she began to speak once more. "After my experiences aboard the Seleya, I was concerned about the crew. I was certain you were taking an unnecessary risk for me." She grew silent for several minutes. "I was also intrigued by the emotions I felt. I thought perhaps if I exposed myself to the Trellium I could accomplish two things. The first was to develop a tolerance for it. The second was touchier and more personal. I hoped to expose myself to the vast array of emotions the Trellium provoked and learn to control them. Either way I would have a defense against the compound."

"You should have told me, T'Pol." His eyes grew speculative as he sat next to her. "Is this why you've been so emotional lately?"

"Yes." She placed her hands flat on the mattress and rocked forward a little.

"That wasn't the most logical thing you've done." His voice had just a touch of humor.

The slight twitch at the corner of her mouth intrigued him and for a moment he was tempted to explore it. Fingers, lips, both held massive appeal. "No... There was another side-effect from the Trellium, one I never considered. It caused an addiction."

He blinked at her owlishly. His hand came up and cupped her cheek as he angled toward her. With the slightest pressure, he encouraged her to look at him. He wanted to rail at her for taking such a risk. He wanted to rave at her for not coming to him, for allowing him to push her away. He did none of those things. The misery in her eyes was too much somehow, and concern for her well-being pushed to the front. Suddenly the increased air of fragility made sense, so did the bruises under her sad, sad eyes. "Are you okay now? Do you need some time off?"

"The doctor has been treating me. I still have occasional emotional outbursts and tremors, but I will not let it affect my responsibilities to you and this ship."

He nodded. As her tongue swept across her lips, awareness skittered down his spine. He didn't want to want her, didn't have time for these distractions, but she felt so warm, so compelling. As if caught in some web, he leaned forward, his lips lightly brushing hers. "I'm sorry I've been pushing you away. I wish you had felt comfortable coming to me with all of this. You're right, I don't approve of your experiments with the Trellium, but I admire the intentions behind them. As for the other, I really have no say."

Her eyes were steady as they met his. "Would you like to?"

Desire conflicted with duty. He was tired of this fight and wanted nothing more than to lay down his arms and sink into her, into everything she offered. "More than you can possibly imagine. But I can't sacrifice the mission or the crew for my personal wants." His eyes closed, as if in pain. "But I do want, so much it hurts." He stood again and paced the small room. "There are so many things I want to say to you, so may things I want to do, but I don't dare because this mission takes too much from me, from all of us." He stopped pacing and kneeled in front of her. "Are you willing to wait until this mess is over?"

She wasn't sure what possessed her. Reaching out, she cupped his cheek, marveling at the rough texture from his beard stubble. "I cannot." The hope in his expression dissipated. Her next words brought it back with a flash. "I believe your logic is flawed, Jonathan Archer. Life is precarious and unpredictable. We may never succeed at our mission or we may and then be thrown into another 'mess.' It seems foolish to waste time we may not have on a someday."

He was stunned. "Why now T'Pol? Are you still vulnerable?"

"To some extent I am still trying to cope with the assorted emotions my experiments caused, but you changed my mind. It first entered my head when I thought I would lose you.  It has since resided there. This incident with the children of Enterprise just reinforced it." She shifted, taking her hand back, clenching it to savor the sensations. "The older T'Pol encouraged me to explore a relationship with Commander Tucker, for she couldn't imagine her life without him. But after she allowed me to contemplate that, she mentioned that you had been her dearest friend, her rock after Trip had passed. You helped her raise and mold Lorian at a time when he needed a father figure. To her, you became so much more..."

His mind couldn't seem to process everything, but he knew what he wanted. His hands came up and lightly gripped her arms. "Be sure T'Pol, I don't want to be another experiment."

Her head tipped lightly to one side as she considered his words. "You could never be. Though I would not object to experimenting at some things with you."

His eyes hardened, desire flashing through him like fire as he jerked her toward him. "As long as I am the only person you experiment with."

The roughness of his hands startled her, but she softened against him. "Only you Captain."

A grin flashed across his face. "Under the circumstances I think you should call me Jonathan."

Her eyes flicked to his mouth. "Jonathan." She said as she pressed her lips lightly to his, taking the initiative.

With the touch of her mouth to his, all things that had mattered were lost. All that registered, all that was important, was the wonderful, warm weight of her against him. Time slowed, sensation intensified as hands sought, teased, tempted, and learned. His breath caught and held as her tongue delved past his lips to tangle with his own. The move was sensual and surprising. He had never imagined his Vulcan being so blatantly sexual. He didn't know how they came to be reclining on his bed, but he liked it. She was solid against him, warm and intensely female, all her curves pressing to him as if they were two pieces of a puzzle made whole. As much as he enjoyed her initiative, Jonathan wasn't one to lie passively. Here was the woman of his dreams, offering herself to him. He wanted to savor every bit of it. Wrapping his arms around her and twining his legs in hers, he rolled them until she was beneath him. Resting his weight on his elbows, he levered himself up slightly so he could look into her eyes. His fingers tunneled in her hair, as his body shifted, finding the natural cradle of her own. "I don't know that this is the best idea we've ever had, but I can't walk away from you again. I want you too much, have cared about you for too long. I...love you."

Her eyes softened as she reached between them to cup his cheeks. "You are a necessary part of me as well, Jonathan." She drew his face to hers and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Soft kisses continued in a gentle rain over his cheeks and nose, finally settling on his mouth. "It is time."

He nodded as he studied her, and then he was kissing her, his hands moving over her body, sweeping away clothes as though they were imaginary things. T'Pol returned the favor, exchanging caress for caress, kiss for kiss.

She gasped at the slide of skin against skin, marveling at the sensations of strength and gentleness that emanated from him. It was too much and not enough. Her mind swirled in a wild storm of emotion and physical stimulation. She was hot and cold and dizzy, swept up and away in the madness of it all. She could barely keep up. When his lips followed the path of his hands, she shuddered with delight. Each touch mapped her body, a foray over terrain unused to such things, then his lips would slide over the same sensitive planes in affirmation. Her breath caught as he both guided and demanded. As his lips closed over the tip of her breath, her body arched like a bow into him. Her hands clenched his shoulders, and whimpers of pleasure spilled from her lips. Jonathan was a drug to her system more addictive than Trellium. For the first time in months she felt truly, exquisitely alive. As he slid down her body, there was no awkwardness and no shame. This was Jonathan and this was right.

Jonathan was lost. The textures of her, the scent, the way she moved, the soft little sounds she emitted, they were all designed to set him on fire. He wanted to take, to conquer, every bit as much as he wanted to savor and learn. The only thing that kept his control was the fact that this was T'Pol, the woman he loved and had wanted for so long. He wanted this first time with her to be perfect, special, imprinted on her mind, her very soul. He wanted to erase everything before and have only himself as her point of reference. He couldn't deny the jealousy that ate at him, anymore than he could walk away from her, but there was more to it than that. It was possessive, but it was also love. He used everything he knew, and could imagine, hands, teeth, tongue and body to bring her to the edge of pleasure, and when she was panting and as needy as himself, he slid home. As her body clenched around him he shuddered at the sheer strength of emotion. He remained still, giving them both time to adjust to the wonder of each other. After raining kisses on her face and pressing his forehead to hers, he began to move in slow steady strokes. His hands caught on her hips and lifted her to him, encouraging her to move with him, and as she caught the rhythm, he increased the tempo. Once more the urge to take pressed in on him and he fought it back until the first tremors shuddered through her. Then he left himself go.

Jonathan laid sprawled across her, his face buried in her throat. He could feel the rapid beat of her pulse and it seemed to match his own. He knew he should move, suspected he was crushing her, but he just couldn't seem to. She felt so good beneath him. Finally he started to shift, only to find her arms tightening around him, her legs as well. With a soft sigh, and another nuzzle to her neck he settled against her once more.

T'Pol tightened her arms and legs once more, a full body hug, designed for comfort and affection, as well as to keep him in place. The need to breathe seemed insignificant to the need to remain attached to him. She was stunned. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for Jonathan Archer. She should be uncomfortable. She was certainly wet, sticky and mildly sore from the unaccustomed activity, and yet it didn't bother her. She felt surrounded by him, inside and out, and it made her feel close and connected. How she had ever imagined Commander Tucker to be an accurate instructor in human sexuality was beyond her now. But she had been right about one thing, she would not be able to walk away from Jonathan. Her hands stroked over his hair and she pressed a light kiss to his temple. Her voice was whispery soft as she spoke. " My Captain, my friend, my mentor, my confidant, my champion...my love and lover." As he lifted his head, she waited until their eyes met. "Will it always be like this between us, Jonathan?"

"I certainly hope so." He rose up, until only their lower bodies touched. She wiggled against him and his body responded. Her eyes widened in surprise as he began moving once more, this time in an almost circular motion. He leaned down to steal a kiss. As his arms slid under her knees, he grinned wickedly. "Consider this an experiment in stamina."

She pulled him down for another kiss as she caught his rhythm once more.

 

Fin~

Kat's contemplating a series... Experiments in Human Sexuality.....  Let me know if it sparks an interest.