Notes: I'll apologize now for this installment. I was feeling a lot of pressure to churn out a second chapter. LOL! Thank you to everyone who requested more. And many thanks to Joe for being on the same page, James for trying to help with the 'boy stuff' and to Ruth who only got to betaread a small portion. Sorry bella!
Shuttlepod Two
Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol had made their way back to the launch bay for their shuttlepod as quickly as they could. Neither one of them had spoken about what had just occurred in the corridor. Once they were settled in their seats and the launch sequence completed, the silence was much too loud.
T'Pol sat straight up and looked forward through the window. In her peripheral vision, she could see Commander Tucker was fidgeting. She could feel the copper blush creeping into her cheeks each time her companion would steal a glance at her. This was not logical. She was avoiding his eyes. She did not understand her own reluctance. Why did she not want to look at him?
They were just pretending back there. They were blending in with the local riff-raff. It meant nothing. Didn't it? It was true, Commander Tucker had gotten physically aroused, but it was logical enough to explain off as just a reaction. Perhaps in human males it was more instinct than reaction. Being a lesser evolved species, it was logical to conclude they could not control those instincts, thus Commander Tucker allowed himself to be aroused.
Yes, that must be it, T'Pol thought. It did not, however, explain her growing discomfort and nervousness
(excitement)
as she looked down in her lap to find *herself* fidgeting. She still did not dare look the Commander in the eye. His hands had not stilled since their departure back to Enterprise. T'Pol was curious, what he was doing in that chair. His scent had changed, was thicker somehow. The realization that she didn't mind it struck her like a photon torpedo. This thought appalled her. In fact, his scent was doing something to her own instincts. Her stomach flip-flopped again.
T'Pol wondered for a fleeting instant if she and Commander Tucker had somehow initiated a bonding progression of sorts, and now she was simply responding to a mutated version of Pon Farr.
She inhaled slowly, taking a deep breath and risked a peek at Commander Tucker. He had leaned back comfortably in the pilot chair with his head thrown back and his eyes were closed. He looked as though he was dozing, except that his right hand was idly stroking a bulge in his uniform below his waist.
Curiosity got the best of T'Pol as she leaned in quietly for a closer look. Her slight movement made her chair creak. She froze, not daring to even breathe. She glanced up at Commander Tucker's face and saw one blue eye looking back at her. The corner of his mouth turned up in a half grin.
"Y'interested, Sub-Commander?" he asked quietly.
T'Pol sat up again, though did not break eye contact. "Interested in what, Commander?" she asked softly, arching a brow. He was leaning forward in his chair now, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"You wanna watch?" he asked bluntly. T'Pol glowered at him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she huffed. She noted that her heart rate had increased, her breathing becoming shallow, and was it getting hot in this shuttle? She cleared her throat and looked out the window again. Enterprise was getting closer.
"I thought Vulcans were above pretending," Commander Tucker stated. T'Pol turned her head and glared at him. He glared back. "C'mon, admit it T'Pol," he continued. "You're curious. You want to see me *do it* don'tcha?" His tone was softer, almost understanding. "You were pretendin back ther'e on the station. At first, anyway. Then you started ta like it. And you're pretendin' not to be interested now."
He was unzipping his uniform now. T'Pol watched, unable to turn away this time. She followed his movements as his right hand reached inside his uniform.
"You're a bad actress, T'Pol," Commander Tucker breathed, as he freed his erection from the confines of his jumpsuit. He began to stroke himself again. "You know about human sexuality. You musta studied it for awhile at the Vulcan compound on Earth. Brush up on the mating habits of us 'primitive' people..." He swiveled his chair so he was facing her directly. "You musta read about *this* act. About what humans do to please themselves. You probably thought it was illogical and blew it off. But now that it's right here in front of you, you're intrigued. Curious. *Thirsty*, T'Pol. "
Her gaze was fixed on his actions, his words sinking in slowly. He was teasing her, but yet he was also correct. She had indeed read about this. She did think it was illogical for a person to please themselves. She saw it as a lack of self-control. Like emotions, sexual urges must be kept in check. It must be disciplined. But now, as he sat in front of her yanking and stroking, she felt her own sexual urges begin to rise.
"Don't be ridiculous, Commander," T'Pol snapped. She turned away from him and glared at the wall of the shuttle.
"Don't fight it, T'Pol," he said quietly. "It's perfectly normal, even for a Vulcan. If we didn't get aroused, none of us would be here. I won't tell anyone you got all hot and bothered by the chief engineer."
She could see him smiling. She could tell he was leering at her behind her back. T'Pol *did* want to explore this, but it was illogical. If she permitted herself to watch this act of personal intimacy, she was allowing only for him to get any pleasure out of this. But that wasn't true, either, was it? She was very curious about human masturbation, and it did get her 'hot' watching him. Perhaps there was something in it for her after all.
T'Pol turned her chair so she was facing him again. He did indeed have a grin on. He saw the look of conflict on her face and his features softened. "Do you want to try it?" he asked.
"Try what?" she whispered, her throat suddenly very dry.
"C'mere," Tucker said softly and motioned her over to his chair. "I'll help you."
She glanced out the window again and saw that Enterprise was almost taking up the whole span of window. They would be docking in a few minutes.
T'Pol rose from her chair and kneeled in front of Commander Tucker, between his legs. She reached out a tentative hand and he took it gently, guiding her to his erect penis. He put his hand over hers, grasping him lightly. With his guidance, they began to stroke again. He showed her just the right amount of pressure to apply, the tightness and tempo that he preferred and moaned softly as they increased the strokes. Trip's hand fell away and T'Pol found an exhilarating sense of power she had over him. She was pleasing him! Commander Tucker's head had fallen back against the chair again. He was gripping the armrests with white knuckles, moaning.
"Archer to Commander Tucker," the captain's voice came over the comm.
Trip's head snapped up as T'Pol released her grip on him and quickly scrambled back to her own chair. They both knew Captain Archer couldn't see them. Trip leaned forward, covering his exposed penis with his hands.
"Tucker here, Cap'n," he said, with a roll of eyes.
"I see you're almost there," Archer said.
"Almost," Trip sighed. T'Pol noted that his penis had begun to shrink, rapidly going flaccid. She felt...disappointed somehow.
"Everything ok, Trip?" the captain asked.
"Oh everythin's just fine, Cap'n," Trip said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He tucked himself back into his uniform and looked at T'Pol. He shrugged an apology. 'Later,' he mouthed to her. She nodded and put the mask of professionalism back in place.
"I'll see you two in my ready room in a few minutes then," Archer stated. "Archer out."
Commander Tucker sighed loudly, and they began the docking procedures.
Go to next part.