OctPoWriMo Day 30: Apart With Love

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Hello, and welcome to OctPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Nine!

What’s OctPoWriMo, you ask? Well, it’s a whole month of poetic creation – 31 poems in 31 days. It’s the creative baby of Morgan Dragonwillow and Julie Jordan Scott.

This year, I’ve followed many of the prompts, and had the double joy of play and discovery…

I hope you’ll stop by, settle in, and find a little bit of magic here!

Today’s prompt was to write a poem about “the day before”….I picked the day before an arranged marriage, from the point of view of the soon-to-be jilted lover….

Apart with Love

The day before

The world fell apart

Apart like we would be

Apart from now on

On my own now

On her world

World that owned her

World that claimed

Claimed her rights

Claimed her choices

Choices stealing away

Choices gone tomorrow

Tomorrow too soon

Tomorrow shredding joy

Joy in our journey

Joy of yesterday

Yesterday spent in bed

Yesterday a feast

Feast of lovemaking

Feast of sorrows

Sorrows in her touch

Sorrows in her eyes

Eyes holding so much

Eyes flinching with pain

Pain she felt

Pain we shared

Shared life shared stories

Shared love to be severed

Severed without options

Severed and surrendered

Surrendered to culture

Surrendered to tradition

Tradition a prison a trap

Tradition strangling hope

Hope for tomorrow

Hope for new beginning

Beginning a life a love

Beginning with another

Another man to hold her

Another type of life

Life without her

Life not worth living

Living without her touch

Living so near and so far

Far from the freedom

Far from my love

Love burns so bright

Love blooming too late

Late

Bright

Get more of days before!

WIPpet Wednesday: Pickle Juice and Leverage

Welcome to the Halloween version of WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

And, speaking of our incendiary duo….

Here’s another snippet from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge project. This is a Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploring the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip.

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

I’ve got something a bit different for you today. A few weeks back, someone, and I’m sorry to say I don’t remember who (Emily, maybe?), posted a “blooper” – a scene that didn’t make it through revisions. I loved the idea, and I wasn’t the only one. So…

Story a Day May provided me with lots of good TnT stuff – but also a few bits that wandered off into weird places. So today, in honor of tricks and treats, I give you a bit that didn’t make it into the slot eventually filled by “Strangers in Sickbay”.

Spoiler Alert! This occurs after the events in “Tigress T’Pol”, which we will return to next week. If you don’t want to know if TnT spend forever in that cell; don’t read this!!!

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is October 29, 2014.
  • My math is – Halloween, baby! Call it a trick; call it a treat; call it a tenth birthday gift for my nephew; call it whatever you want! =D

This story is an add-on scene for the episode: “Acquisition. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon. I haven’t edited it; it’s as-is!

So T’Pol and Trip have just bamboozled three alien thieves into captivity, thereby saving the ship….

T’Pol looked at the three big-headed aliens she’d just dispatched. “I trust you will disarm them, Commander? Their scent is – powerful.” She wrinkled her nose; I tried not to notice how cute that small uncontrolled gesture was. Suddenly, I was very aware that we were two of only three people awake on the entire ship.

“What about that nasal numbing agent you used to talk so much about?” I said it mostly to distract myself.

“I no longer use it. I’ve grown accustomed to the scent of humans. However, these people possess a markedly different body chemistry. I find it somewhat – overpowering.” She swallowed. “I would prefer to go no closer.”

“You all right? You’re looking a little green around the gills.”

“The smell is rather -nauseating. Once I am out of close proximity, I suspect the sensations will fade.”

I went to kneel by the aliens, and now my nose wrinkled, too, and I cleared my throat. “These guys don’t smell as bad as Klingons, but this is a little like being too close to an entire vat of pickle juice.”

“‘Pickle – juice?'”

“Mostly vinegar, with some spices, then cooked. It’s a powerful scent – even to my nose.”

“Then I suggest you complete your search quickly.” Her voice wavered a little.

“Good suggestion. Good shooting, too.”

Their skin was like worn leather when I brushed it, and I had to fight the impulse to wipe my hands on my coveralls like I was back to being a kid. “They all have something like phase pistols, and those handcuffs they used on the captain, and then there’s this whip plasma contraption…”

“We will confiscate their weapons, and study them. As for my aim, I had the element of surprise, and a contained area. I believe our phase pistols are the more powerful.”

“Well, their handcuffs seem just about perfect for what I’ve got in mind.”

It took a little shoving and arranging, but, when I was done, they were all attached to one another. “With the way these guys bicker, they’ll be too busy blaming each other to figure out how to get themselves out of this.”

“Splendid.”

She looked at the pile I’d created, and there was smug satisfaction in her tone. She withdrew something from somewhere around her waist – where the hell did she manage to hide anything in a uniform that fit her as though she poured it on every day? – and held it up. It caught the light with a metallic glint. It was a key. “I believe it is time that I released the captain -“

“T’Pol!”

My voice was sharp, and it bounced and ricocheted off the pipes. She tensed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so loud. But, if you’ve had that key; does that mean Krem is disabled, too?”

“It does indeed.” She watched the key spin, almost as though it had her mesmerized.

“Then why didn’t you unlock the captain?”

She looked at me, and there was something a little reckless in her glinting eyes. “I have unfinished business with Captain Archer, and this key represents leverage.”

“For someone who claims she’s motivated by logic, you certainly seem to be enjoying this.”

What will T’Pol say to that? What business does she have with the captain, and why does she need leverage? Is she enjoying this? How come they’re both keeping their hands to themselves?

Nope. Not telling. That’s the trick part…but you know the drill by now– you can watch the episode, or wait till I post this on a fan fiction site and share the link!

These posts are the seeds of a project I’ll be expanding in 2015, so your input is always valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

OctPoWriMo Day 27: Just a Dream of Broken Hearts

Hello, and welcome to OctPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Seven!

What’s OctPoWriMo, you ask? Well, it’s a whole month of poetic creation – 31 poems in 31 days. It’s the creative baby of Morgan Dragonwillow and Julie Jordan Scott.

This year, I intend to follow many of the prompts, and get the joy of discovery…

I hope you’ll stop by, settle in, and find a little bit of magic here!

Today’s prompt was to write a poem that dealt with sleep or dreaming….

And they’ve been in my head, showing me what happens, when they dream…

So I gave them 1300 words or so to each say their piece; of course, they both surprised me. Then I went through both passages, and created a list of found phrases, which, adapted, became the components of this blended dream.

If I pulled it off, you will feel two distinct voices throughout….

Warning: this is a rather epic poem, at over 700 words. No, I didn’t plan that!

And for those who care – SPOILER ALERT! This poem has MAJOR, HUGE, BIG-TIME SPOILERS for the Star Trek: Enterprise episode “Home” and points surrounding. Don’t go further if you don’t wanna know…

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

Word Prompts:

sleep (sleepy, sleeping)

dream (dreaming, dreamer)

nap

awake

insomnia

Just a Dream of Broken Hearts

“oh god, T’Pol – why can’t

this be just a dream?”

you watched her get married

she’s Koss’s wife not yours

you have no right to her now

it’s his bed she’ll share tonight

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

her beautiful face blurred

and ran with my tears and hers

an old oil painting melting

beneath her hot red sun

What right had Koss to me?

Angry blood seared my veins.

“oh god, T’Pol – why can’t

this be just a dream?”

not the friendly sands of Florida

sands of another world

red sands where she

sacrificed herself

on the altar of her logic

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

My nails dug into my palms.

“I must meditate.”

To whom did I speak?

There was no one here.

“oh god, T’Pol – why can’t

this be just a dream?”

“She’s mine – “

“Yes, Trip – I am yours – “

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

Koss had the right

to take me as wife.

“oh god T’Pol – why can’t this

just be a damned dream?”

we moved together

no hurry but unspoken urgency

bodies and minds and souls

tangled together

inseparably forever

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

In this space, I could pretend…

Pretend if I went out the door,

turned left, rounded the corner,

and crossed the corridor,

felt it rising surging

bursting forth – power

and crushing pain

that I would be at Trip’s door -

he would welcome me in,

her citrus-and-sandalwood

arousal scent blended

with the salt air of home

He’d take me into his arms

and I would come fully to life.

“oh god T’Pol – why does this

have to be just a dream?”

her eyes glowed and it was almost

as if I could feel what she felt

touch what she touched

know what she knew

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

hot fingers trailed down my chest

plasma arc of sharing

everywhere she touched

Peace slipped away and popped

like the soap bubbles on Trip’s chest.

“oh god T’Pol – why does this

have to be just a dream?”

to lose myself in her fierce bliss

popping like soap bubbles

under her virgin fingers

as she learned at last how

to play just play

without purpose

but just

for fun

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

“You don’t play nearly

enough, pepperpot.”

Vulcan children did not ever

Play simply to play.

she was opening receiving

all I could give

giving so much more

than I thought she had

“oh god T’Pol – why does this

have to be just a dream?”

What he’d fanned into vibrant life,

now dull, numb, broken toys.

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

“don’t suppose that’s sugar-free pie?”

sugars hit her hard and fast

take logic and inhibition

toss them out the airlock

we don’t need them now

My hot touch excites him

Into vivid human flame.

“oh god T’Pol – why does this

have to be just a dream?”

she rained kisses on my face and I

kissed her pecan pie tasting mouth

deeper and deeper breathing her in

but never breathing her out

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

hot sticky smears over my chest

before I could say anything but “hey!”

well she certainly learned how to play

“oh god T’Pol – why can’t this

be more than just a dream?”

Tempt me from solitude

And quiet meditation

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

her hot breath came sharp and quick

cutting through the sounds of the waves

and the gulls and the setting sun

Cool human fingers soothing

The heat of my hungry skin.

“oh god T’Pol – what does it mean

that we’re dreaming the same dream?”

Our tumultuous bubble of peace

Punctured by tradition and duty.

she kissed my cheek and

gave me the gift of

her thoughts and her tears

“Trip, is this what humans mean,

When you speak of ‘broken hearts’?”

Find more dreamy OctPoWriMo poems here!

OctPoWriMo Day 25: Cowl Invites Touch

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Hello, and welcome to OctPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Five!

What’s OctPoWriMo, you ask? Well, it’s a whole month of poetic creation – 31 poems in 31 days. It’s the creative baby of Morgan Dragonwillow and Julie Jordan Scott.

This year, I intend to follow many of the prompts, and get the joy of discovery…

I hope you’ll stop by, settle in, and find a little bit of magic here!

Today’s prompt was “Magic and Possibilities”. We were encouraged to freewrite for 10 minutes, and offered a list of word prompts:

  • Fascinating

  • Captivating

  • Enchanting

  • Magnetic

  • Irresistible

Well, I was a bit of an overachiever with today’s poem.

When I looked at the word list, I noticed it used several words or ideas with my 100 word flash fiction story for Story a Day May. Since that story’s part of my evolving Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction project, The IDIC Romance, I’ve been intending to expand it.

I chose the first time Trip encounters T’Pol, in a jazz club in San Francisco (see the episode “Fusion” for more), as the basis for my frewriting – and I wrote 2,000 words!

I do love me some Trip and T’Pol, but that’s another story, and not a poem at all…

I decided that Trip’s poem would be a blitz, which seems to suit his rapid-fire yet laid-back personality well…and this poem might even become part of the story that inspired it…

I love it when a challenge becomes more than the sum of its parts!

Cowl Invites Touch

Alien woman prowls in

Face framed by a cowl

Cowl hides pointed ears

Cowl names her Vulcan

Vulcan eyes search

Vulcan eyes stare

Stare into me

Stare and declare

Declare alien yearnings

Declare Vulcan fires

Fires hot and unexpected

Fires like plasma arcs

Arcs sear and burn

Arcs scorch through soft jazz

Jazz binding us together

Jazz winding through us both

Both caught in arcing music

Both caught up in a breath

Breath tangles into music

Breath exhales wanting

Wanting this to never end

Wanting so much more

More music more time

More whatever this is

Is she feeling what I do

Is she even able to feel

Feel her heart beat faster

Feel hot blood in her veins

Veins green-hued not red

Veins from mind to heart

Heart opening to heart

Heart conquers mind

Mind pleads for reason

Mind begs for logic

Logic burned by plasma fire

Logic utterly undone

Undone by Vulcan eyes

Undone by shadows

Shadows moving softly

Shadows on her face

Face transformed by music

Face inconvenient facts

Facts of human man

Facts of Vulcan woman

Woman breathing in music

Woman I long to touch

Touch her deep within

Touch her man to woman

Woman

Within

Find more OctPoWriMo magic!

WIPpet Wednesday: “Keep Your Shirt On”:

 

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

I’m sharing a story from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge project. This is a Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploring the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip.

This is the seventeenth installment of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

So, have you ever heard the one about the human and the Vulcan who got locked in a cell and played word games? No? Well, have I got a WIPpet for you! =D

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is October 22, 2014.
  • Slightly convoluted Tricky math: 22+11 (the ones from month and year) =33
  • And the last paragraph from last week, for context.

This story is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.

This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, Intense Reaction. Trip and T’Pol play…word games?!?

 

Last week’s conclusion:

Yes.” T’Pol’s voice was sardonic, now, and she dropped her gaze off to the side the way she did when she was uncomfortable. “You seem to elicit certain – instinctive responses – within me.” She met my eyes, and hers looked troubled and open – I wanted to fall into them again, but then she shifted her focus back to the side, and her voice was barely a whisper. “I was unprepared for such an intense reaction. In future, I’ll – restrain myself.”

And now for today’s treat:

“Well, now, T’Pol – keep your shirt on -“

Her look was just about priceless. “I certainly will,” she said, after a few breaths.

“Really? So it’s only my clothes you want to get rid of, is it?” I grinned at her.

“I -” She broke off, looked to the side, then back at me. She was turning a lovely shade of light burnished green, a little like old copper. I decided to take pity on her, and put a hand lightly on her shoulder. She tensed up, but she still had a low-grade vibration – did that mean that she was still aroused, too, and trying to resist? Just to be sure, I lifted my hand – and damned if she didn’t stretch just a little taller, like she was reaching to maintain that contact…and, even if it made me the biggest fool on Rigel Ten, I put my hand back, and T’Pol made a soft sound, like a sleepy puppy – first she reminds you of Lizzie, and then a dog?! What the hell is going on in your brain, Tucker?

T’Pol looked up at me, not quite getting to my eyes. Even those beautiful pointed ears were blushing, and I could feel her trying to figure this out. Poor woman’s got no chance; not if logic’s all she’s got to do it with…because whatever this is, it sure as hell isn’t logical!

I couldn’t keep teasing her. Wasn’t even fair, when I was the one who started it. I smiled and gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze, trying to ignore the way she seemed almost to surge up into my touch like a cat would – now a cat?! I must be as confused as she looked.

“Relax, T’Pol- it’s just an expression, and it wasn’t fair to let you think I meant anything else by it – even if it does kinda fit the situation to a T. It means is that there’s no reason to rush into a decision. This – ” now I was the one who didn’t quite know what to say, especially when she finally met my eyes, her pupils reflecting me back to myself, wrapped up in things she felt, and I couldn’t decipher – not yet, anyway. But I sure as hell wanted to learn how to.

I gestured vaguely into the space between us with my free hand. “Well, whatever this is -this isn’t the best time or place to explore it – but once we get back to the ship, and the doc says you’re all right – “

Beneath my hand, her shoulder was vibrating a little faster, a little deeper. She didn’t say anything, but that quiver spoke plenty, and her eyes were large and glowing as her lips parted slightly, her breath emerging in a soft sigh.

“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” I whispered. Gorgeous, passionate, and driving me crazy without even seeming to be aware of it. Who knew a Vulcan – a Vulcan! - could be like this?

“Are you suggesting that we engage in sexual activity?” Gorgeous, passionate – and she sounded like a prudish clinician with a seductress’ voice.

Somehow, that just made her even sexier..

 

What’s Trip’s answer to that? And will T’Pol accept it, and continue to restrain herself?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet! But, because I like you, I’m giving you a pre-Halloween treat: a story I wrote for the SoCS meme, The Shape of My Heart”.

Spoiler alert: it happens several episodes after the pilot, so be warned!

Until next week, live long and prosper, y’all!

Here’s a special treat…the scene that is my model for the TnT interactions in these stories…I gotta give this round to  the logical lady in  (and out of) the hot blue silk…

 

SoCS : “Shape of My Heart”

 

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme.

The idea is simple – post an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt – this week’s is to write a post that uses the word or theme: shape.

I thought immediately of this song, so I looked up the video, and then the story was born..

Shape of My Heart…

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

Trip Tucker heard the music before the hatch had slipped open enough to poke his head through – sweet, swelling notes, bouncing of the tubelike walls of Travis’s Sweet Spot. He thought of closing the hatch, but whoever was up there had to have seen it moving, and he figured it would be pretty rude to leave without announcing himself…

T’Pol was sitting, cross-legged and straight-backed, upside-down on the ceiling, watching him.

He wasn’t sure who he’d expected – but he knew it wasn’t her. He wasn’t sure where he stood with her, really – he was the only one on the ship who knew how close they’d come to losing her a few days ago – but he only knew because he’d poked his nose into her personal affairs…affairs, arranged marriage…

As if trying to figure out how to deal with the gorgeous Vulcan wasn’t hard enough without all that.

She was still watching him. Waiting. Why the hell did she always remind him of a hunting cat when she did that? “Want company?” he asked, not sure if she could hear him over the music.

As though reading his mind – good Lord, she couldn’t, could she? – T’Pol touched the datapad she held and the music cut off mid-note in a way that made him cringe a little. He never liked to turn off a song or a movie in the middle. “Please join me, if you wish.”

The ball’s in my court, then…Trip’s heart gave a ridiculous little throb as it sped up at the thought of sharing this small space with her- and he pushed off into the null-grav tube and aimed himself at the space next to her. Once he was settled, he looked at the pad she held. “You didn’t have to turn it off. What’re you listening to? It sounds familiar.”

“It is a selection from your gift,” she answered. “According to your notes, the performer is named simply Sting, and the song, although titled “Shape of My Heart”, seems to have nothing to do with anatomy, but rather with art, games, meditation, and mathematics.” She got that adorable little wrinkle in her forehead that said she was trying to work her way around to the real point.

“I think I remember that one – but I haven’t heard it in a long time. Mind starting over, so I can catch up?” Trip smiled at her, and a whiff of her citrus-and-sandalwood perfume hit him full force, reminding him of that damned Suliban cell and the way she’d been – would he ever get the chance to see where that could lead?

T’Pol said nothing, only touched the screen, which came back to life. Now that he heard the first few notes, he knew the song, and the video – he’d really liked this one in his early twenties- so he watched T’Pol watch the screen. She remained perfectly still and straight, but she got that look in her eyes again, and her face opened up, quick flashes of tiny muscle movements saying that she was feeling something intense, something she’d said she only felt with human music.

The song unfurled to a sweet ending – and then Sting snorted and laughed, the drummer lobbed off some random notes, and everyone guffawed.

“Why did they laugh? Is the song intended to be humorous?”

“I don’t know why – but it’s not a funny song. Maybe they just needed to vent a little after they played. Maybe they were laughing at a joke someone told that morning. “

“Human emotional responses are often erratic and ambiguous. I don’t understand them.”

“Wanna know a secret? Most of the time, neither do we. But maybe it would be better to explore what you feel when you listen.”

“He speaks of geometry, meditation, and probable outcomes. These are quantifiable terms, and suggest a logical mind and a level of self-awareness. And yet he speaks of luck and chance and the shape of his heart, as though those things are also logical and quantifiable. I feel that I’m intended to understand the message to be conveyed, but I don’t.” She regarded him with those almond shaped hazel eyes, and Trip knew she was looking for answers she could define – and that she expected him to provide them.

“Humans don’t necessarily make music to pass along a message, T’Pol – or at least, not like that. He might have been sharing a daydream, or telling a story, or just trying to evoke a mood. A lot of Sting’s music is like poetry – mood, imagery, deep thought, symbolism. I think he meant for everyone to take from it whatever they did – he was offering something from inside of him.”

“The ‘shape of his heart?’ ” T’Pol said, in that husky way she had when she was unsure of herself.

“I guess so.”

“Then – the ‘shape of my heart’ is what is contained within me -beneath logic and language?” Her scent was getting stronger, and her pupils were huge and dark, and Trip swallowed as she lifted paired fingers that quivered the tiniest bit- damn…

He could only watch as her fingers came for his; he knew what was coming, and he wanted it, was terrified of it…

And still, he lifted his fingers to meet hers, and, as her other hand began the song again, he felt the touch, and they melted together into a sharing that was reshaping his human heart to better suit hers…

Want more of these two?

Enjoy stream-of consciousness writing? Anyone can play, so long as they are willing to follow a few simple rules. See you next week, for another live-streaming look into the lovely chaos in my mind! =)

Join in or read more SoCS posts here!

WIPpet Wednesday: Intense Reaction

 

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys (and who has placed the word “sardonic” in this snippet, because she reached her first 10K word goal! Way to go, Kathi, and it fit perfectly!).

I’m sharing a story from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge project. This is a Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploring the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip.

This is the sixteenth installment of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

So, two weeks ago, I posted about this story disappearing without a trace from Scrivener and Dropbox, and my intention to rebuild it from the existing blogposts.

The process is moving along – and the story is growing! This little 2K mini-gem is now nearly 8K long, and I haven’t gotten to the end (again) yet…

It’s almost long enough to qualify for novelette territory… by my guess, it’ll be at least 10K when all is said and done…and it’s a far better story than what I originally wrote, too. I’m kinda glad it went poof, actually…

And here’s the funny thing. All this amazing dancing between our two brave and tempting explorers happens in a tiny little bit of the original episode, between scenes. I always knew something had to have gone on between these two in that cell, but I’ll admit that I’m more than a little surprised at all they’ve gotten up to. This might possibly be the best use of an unexplained incarceration, ever…

Locked in a tiny room? No communicators?

No problem – they’ve got each other, after all…

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is October 15, 2014.
  • Slightly convoluted Tricky math: 10+15 (month+day)=25
  • Add 3 as a pre-Halloween treat (it’s my favorite number).
  • 28 sentences total, this week,

This story is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, Aftershock. Trip and T’Pol are one incendiary pair – but will they ignite again, or find some way to dampen the fires?

Maybe not this kind of intense reaction – but who can resist Vulcan zombies?!

Her cirtrus-smoke scent blanketed me, and she made a tiny sound as she quivered – if I’d forgotten how fast things could spiral out of control between us, I was about to get a reminder. My hips jolted up again, and T’Pol’s corkscrewed down to meet them, We both groaned, together. Her eyes were wide, and she was shaking, her body tight with strain -was she fighting herself again? I couldn’t take much more of this, either -

Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie,” I whispered to myself, to get my mind off the heat and friction and beautiful Vulcan, and rolled to the side. T’Pol wasn’t as light as she looked, but she didn’t resist me. She swung her top leg off, which put a little space between us. I thanked my sister, silently – no, I wasn’t going to think about why T’Pol reminded me of little-girl Lizzie, but only when we were all over each other – what the hell was wrong with me, anyway? No, not now – not till we were out of this. Right now, T’Pol was the important thing –

“Those bastards hit you hard enough to cause a concussion, T’Pol – and I think you’ve got a doozy.”

“I’m not concussed, Trip.” Her voice was still softly husky. She tensed the muscles in the leg that was still under mine, and I rolled back to let her pull it free. She made a smooth, dancelike move, and ended sitting, straight backed and cross-legged, facing me.

I sat up, although not nearly as gracefully as she had. “How can you be so sure? I mean, if you don’t know what – well, all this – is about -“

“Vulcan physiology differs from yours; it would take a considerably more powerful blow to cause a brain injury, even a minor one.” She sounded pretty damned sure of herself, even though her hair was mussed, her jacket dragged down over one shoulder, and she was still quivering enough that I could see it – damn damn damn!

“Then this is something else.” There! That would show her that I could be logical, too, if I wanted to – even if I was surprised as hell that I was able to think at all, under the circumstances.

“Yes.” T’Pol’s voice was sardonic, now, and she dropped her gaze off to the side the way she did when she was uncomfortable. “You seem to elicit certain – instinctive responses – within me.” She met my eyes, and hers looked troubled and open – I wanted to fall into them again, but then she shifted her focus back to the side,and her voice was barely a whisper. “I was unprepared for such an intense reaction. In future, I’ll – restrain myself.”

Maybe not quite this intense…

Now just what does she mean by that?! And how will Trip respond? Is T’Pol as uninjured as she says she is? Can we stop fanning ourselves now? Where is that Klingon, or the rest of the landing party, or even the Suliban who put TnT here?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet!

These posts are the seeds of a project I’ll be expanding in 2015, so your input is always valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

 

Ahhh. THIS one!

Bonus Intense reactions!