Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 6 Jan 2004 09:41:45 -0800  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.co.uk (shouldknowbetter) 
 

Title: Someone To Watch Over Me
Series: ENT, Third in a series of 9 stories.  
Part: 2/3 Story 9/34 Series
Author:  Shouldknowbetter

Rating:   PG13
Codes:    Tu/T, all "Enterprise" characters, later in series, Soval,
Forrest, action, angst, drama
Disclaimer 1:      Paramount owns the characters, the Star Trek franchise
and the universe.  I just use them for my own private, non-profit
making amusement.


SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME

Part Two


Two sighed.  "This is proceeding no better than the previous pairing."

"At least they are talking."  One was still hopeful but only because
he couldn't think of anything else to try.

"But at the most trivial level."

"I believe that to be a promising sign."  Three was maintaining her
air of confidence.  "The woman does not engage in trivia with anyone
else and he touched her when he arrived."

"But not since."  Two had never like Three, probably because she was
so much brighter than he.  "If you are correct and they wish to mate,
they obviously need encouragement."

"Chemical compounds?" One suggested.  He rather enjoyed synthesising
chemicals, even though he didn't really think they worked.

"I was considering a change of scenario.  Their ship's database
indicates that placing two specimens in a dangerous situation
inevitably makes them acknowledge their desire to mate."

Three sighed.  "That is a literary device, not a behavioural rule.  I
believe it no more likely to work for these specimens than for our own
people."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Wait."

"One?"

"Oh, very well, select a scenario.  But don't get them killed.  We are
investigating mating, not death.  I'm sorry, Three, but this is
getting a little tedious.  What are they doing now?"



"This isn't working," Tucker grumbled.  "I can't see a flame."

"You are not trying."

"Yes, I am.  I just can't see it.  I've never been into candles."

"Not even when entertaining women?"

Tucker's eyes shot open and stared accusingly at T'Pol.  "What d'you
know about candlelit dinners?"

"I am aware that they are a sentimental clichι."

"How d'you know?"

"Ensign Sato has told me."

"Huh!  Thought someone'd been romancing you," and he knew who to
accuse.

The scene flipped without warning.  One moment they were sitting
facing each other on the bedroom floor, the next they were on sand,
hot red sand with red light overhead.  Tucker literally ducked from
the sudden intensity of the heat.  "Shit!  What happened there?"  It
was a rhetorical question.  He clambered to his feet, staggering a
little as the high gravity hit.  "Any idea where we are?"

T'Pol had also risen and was studying their surroundings closely.  "It
would appear to be Vulcan."

Tucker stared around, frowning.  "Earth, now Vulcan.  D'you think
we're really there?"

"I believe not.  This would appear to be the great southern desert but
it lacks the … depth of sensation I would expect to experience here."

"Yeah, know what you mean.  Like that view out the window of the
bedroom.  Holographic projection?"

"A logical hypothesis although there are other possibilities."

"I guess we still can't find the off switch.  Or even the
environmental controls."  Tucker was already sweating and T'Pol looked
at him in some concern.  Vulcan was a harsh environment for its
natives and a killing one for humans.

"We must find shelter."

"Fine.  Do we toss a coin or what?"

"There."  She pointed to a rock outcropping just visible to human eyes
in the low light levels.  "If we are fortunate, it may contain
emergency supplies."

"And if we're not fortunate?"

"It will not."  She started walking, keeping to a slow pace although
Tucker was already breathing faster in the high gravity and thin air.

"Why would there be supplies in the middle of a desert?"

She presumed he wanted to talk to keep his mind off his discomfort. 
"We are not in the middle of a desert.  I believe we are close to the
main pilgrim route to the monastery on the plateau of Gol where the
rite of Kolinahr is performed.  The masters leave caches of water for
the pilgrims."

"They walk in?"

"Of course.  It demonstrates their commitment and piety."

"If you say so.  Is it always this hot?"

"During the day, yes."  She took pity on him.  "This is the most
inhospitable region on Vulcan."


"Hence the masters?"
"Indeed.  Even I find it … unpleasant."

"You must freeze on Enterprise."

"Vulcans can tolerate a far wider range of temperatures than humans." 
She glanced up at the man beside her.  "It surprises me that for a
species that evolved in Earth's equatorial area, you are so vulnerable
to heat and dehydration."

"That was about half a million years ago!  What were Vulcans doing
then?"

"Slaughtering each other."

"Oh."

They were barely 100m from the rocky outcropping when the desert's
silence was broken by an animalistic howl.  T'Pol didn't hesitate. 
"Run."

Tucker did his best but Vulcan's gravity won out.  He had fallen
several metres behind T'Pol when he stumbled and pitched headlong.  He
had barely dragged himself to hands and knees when a large, shaggy and
noxious beast barged into his side, sending him flying again. 
Instinct rolled him onto his back and saved his life as it also threw
up his arm to ward off the rows of teeth aiming for his throat.  Luck
played its part too as his forearm jammed into the creature's jaws. 
For frantic seconds he was pinned down, unable to do anything but hold
the animal off, then the downward pressure relaxed into a dead weight
that was pulled off him and he was looking up into T'Pol's face.  She
looked as scared and shocked as he felt, quite unlike her usual calm
self.  They simply stared at each other for a long moment then she
dragged him up, hand tight on his.  "They hunt in packs.  We must
run."  As she pulled him away, he got another sight of the creature
that had attacked him; its neck had been snapped.



Archer was getting irritable which was in turn upsetting Hoshi.  "I'm
going as fast as I can, sir!  This equipment wasn't designed to
operate in theta band.  If Commander Tucker was here …"

He swallowed his annoyance, knowing it was unjustified.  "I'm sorry,
Hoshi.  I know you're doing your best."

She sighed.  "I'm worried about them too, sir."  Particularly about
the notion of Tucker and T'Pol alone in a bedroom together.  Hoshi
knew something was going on between science officer and chief
engineer, she just didn't know what it was exactly and whether it was
likely to lead to the Vulcan hurting Tucker if he pushed his luck with
her.  "OK, I think that's got it."  She crawled out from under the
comm. station and accepted Archer's hand to help her up.  "Initiating
comm. signal now."  There was a short delay and then she said in some
surprise, "Link established, sir.  Someone's responding."

"On screen."

It had to be one of the most alien species Archer had yet encountered.
 There was only the suggestion of a mouth; the rest looked remarkably
like a jellyfish, but the response came through clearly without the
benefit of Hoshi's language skills.  "Oh, it's you.  You have
contacted us."

"That's right."  Archer was being cautious.  "You know us?"

"Oh, yes.  Yes, indeed.  We didn't think you could talk back, however.
 We were just observing."

"Observing?"

"Yes, yes.  We're exo-anthropologists.  We spend our time viewing
primitive specimens like you."

"I see."  Archer held his temper.  "I seem to be missing two of my
crew.  Would you know anything about that?"

"Ah, yes.  My apologies, but the captain wanted us to finish up
quickly.  We had to encourage the behaviour we wanted to observe."

"You kidnapped two – three! – of my crew."

"Well, I suppose – yes, we did.  But don't worry, you can have them
back as soon as they have mated.  They'll be quite safe with us." 
There was a noise off screen.  The jellyfish swayed in that direction,
said something that sounded very much like, "Oops!" and the screen
went blank.

Archer stared at it in consternation and after a moment Hoshi said
doubtfully, "Did he say mated?"


T'Pol dragged Tucker up the first rocky stretch of the knoll then
halted in frustration at the sheer face before them; she had taken the
wrong route, not that there had been a great deal of choice.  Beside
her, Tucker had collapsed to hands and knees, sobbing for breath,
clearly incapable of going further.  With scant hope, she turned to
check if they had been followed and shivered.  There were too many. 
Even if they had both been Vulcan they wouldn't have stood a chance
and Tucker was human, hurt and already exhausted.  "Charles."  She
hardly ever called him by his personal name although he had been
urging her to do so for months, but it had the advantage of getting
his immediate attention.  He dragged himself up, holding onto the rock
wall behind them, and swore softly at the sight of the half dozen
beasts crouching below them.

"Can we do anything?"

"No."

One of the beasts roared and started forward.  T'Pol took a step in
front of the injured human in an entirely futile gesture of protection
and he pulled her back, holding her tightly to his side.  T'Pol gave
in to the inevitable and held him back just as tightly; it didn't look
as if it would matter.  The beast howled again, crouching to spring,
and they clutched convulsively at each other.



"They're responding again, captain," Hoshi informed Archer and he
nodded.

"On screen."

"Ah, you again."  The alien didn't give him a chance to speak.  "I
told you not to worry.  We will return your crew when we have
completed our studies."

"Then we could have a long wait."  Archer made his voice firm. 
"You've misread the situation.  Sub-Commander T'Pol and Commander
Tucker are colleagues, friends.  They don't want to mate with each
other."

"Hmm."  The creature was undulating slightly.  "You know, I shared
your opinion at first but one of my subordinates insisted we had to
swap the males and I must say its looking promising.  Would you like
to see?"  Without waiting for Archer to respond, it waved a tentacle
and the screen split, one half continuing to show the alien, the other
an image of Enterprise's first officer and chief engineer.



They were back in the bedroom.  For several seconds they simply
remained pressed together, stunned, then T'Pol forced herself back
under a semblance of control; mainly because one of the arms clamped
around her waist was encased in a ripped and bloodstained sleeve and
there was more blood spreading down her uniform.  She freed herself
from Tucker's grip and turned to face him, gently tearing away the
remnant of the fabric to inspect the damage.

"Ow," he muttered belatedly and sank down on the edge of the bed. 
"What the hell was that about?"

"Perhaps it was a test."

"Did we pass?"

"We are still alive."

"Good point."  He was staring with distaste at his bleeding forearm. 
"Have I ever told you I don't like the sight of blood?  Particularly
mine."

"Frequently."  She fetched a wet towel from the vanity unit that
finally came in useful and knelt beside him to clean the injuries
where sharp teeth had scratched and torn the flesh.

"Ow!"

"Do not make such a fuss."  She had wiped away most of the blood and
assured herself that the wounds were not serious.  "The teeth did not
penetrate deeply."

"It still hurts.  Are those things poisonous?"

"No."

He scowled at the dark head bent over his arm.  "Would you be more
sympathetic if it had chewed my hand off?"  She wrapped a dressing
over the wounds and fastened it in place with strip of another towel. 
"Thanks."  She started to rise, head averted, and he laid a hand on
her arm, lightness gone.  "And thanks for saving my life back there." 
He thought she shuddered.  "T'Pol?  You OK?"

She definitely took a couple of deliberate breaths.  "I thought the
sehlat had killed you.  If the initial leap does not break the prey's
back, they rip out the throat.  When I turned and saw it on top of you
…"  She swallowed, fighting for control, but since those seconds of
terror had shattered her composure she had not had a moment to
re-build the walls.

"Hey," his voice was gentle, "don't underrate human survival instinct.
 We dodged sabre-toothed tigers for thousands of years."

"It is considered unlikely that sabre-toothed tigers preyed on
humans."

He laughed softly.  "Smart-arse.  Want a hug?"

"I see no logical reason why I should."

"Sounds like a yes to me."  He stood, drawing her with him, then
waited a second, hands on her shoulders, giving her the chance to move
away.  When she didn't, he took a half step forwards to bring them
into contact, sliding one hand down to the small of her back, the
other to the nape of her neck, long fingers caressing soothingly.

T'Pol knew she shouldn't but couldn't seem to stop herself, leaning
into Tucker, finding a comfortable position for her head under his
chin, listening to his heartbeat proving he was alive.

"I made an ass of myself with Jon once."  Tucker's voice was still
quiet and she recognised that he was offering her an excuse for her
weakness by referring to his best friend.  "He fell down a crevice on
Io during a training mission.  He wasn't answering hails and I was
sure he'd snagged his suit.  Took me twenty minutes to reach him, only
to find he'd done nothing worse than wind himself and smash the
transmitter on his suit.  I was so panicked I was hyperventilating.  I
ran out of oxygen on the way back and Jon had to rescue me!  Official
report didn't make nice reading."

She had to move.  It was certainly comforting to stand in Charles'
arms and let him stroke her but it wasn't doing anything to restore
her composure; and behind all the layers of control, the restraint,
the lifelong habits of repression, she loved Charles Tucker very much.
 The unwanted emotion would not be banished however hard she tried and
whenever he was in danger her feelings for him effortless surfaced. 
But she was Vulcan and Vulcans did not admit to having feelings for a
member of another species beyond friendship.  She stepped back,
regretting the loss of contact.  "Thank you, commander."

Tucker snorted and took a seat on the bed again, back resting on the
headboard, knees raised, focussing on solving differential equations
in his head.  It had been a mistake, holding T'Pol like that.  If he
could keep his interactions with the science officer either strictly
professional or casually light-hearted he could cope.  Whenever it
slipped onto a more intimate note, he was forced to admit how much he
cared for her.  Holding that warm, voluptuous body against his,
knowing that she cared enough for him to be shaken by the thought of
his death, were both enough to overset his firm resolution to have the
Vulcan woman purely as a friend.  He could still feel her curvaceous
body pressed against him, her hair brushing his skin, and he was
becoming as aroused as hell.  And she didn't even seem to notice,
which maybe meant Archer hadn't persuaded her into bed yet. 
Differential equations, nice solvable differential equations.  That
was definitely the way to go.



Archer stared at the image on his view screen and sighed, head
dropping briefly.  "They're friends."  T'Pol was leaning on Tucker,
head on his shoulder, his arms around her.  There was no sound but he
seemed to be talking to her, expression tender.  "Very good friends." 
He sounded less than certain of that even to himself.

"No."  The alien's tone was cheerful.  "We have observed friendship. 
It doesn't involve so much physical contact.  We'll return them when
we're done."  The screen blanked again.

Archer sank down into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.  "At
least we know they're OK."
"If it was them," Reed offered darkly.  "The image could have been
faked.  Vulcans don't like to be touched and Commander Tucker was …
well, cuddling the sub-commander."

Hoshi sent the armoury officer a pitying glance.  "Haven't you been
watching them, Malcolm?  T'Pol might not like the rest of us touching
her, but she's always let Commander Tucker get close.  I think she
really like him.  What do you think, captain?"

"I still think we've got a long wait on our hands."



T'Pol took her time washing her hands free of any lingering trace of
human blood, using the opportunity to start re-building the walls, to
put her emotions back where they belonged.  A substantial period of
mediation was required, but following that recent incident she did not
want to be caught anything less than alert by a scene-switch.  She had
to make do with sitting on the floor, away from temptation.  Tucker
seemed to have subsided into gloom, frowning at the opposite wall, and
she began to worry.  "Is your arm painful?"

He seemed to come back from a long way away.  "Huh?  Oh, no, just
sore.  What did you say those things were called?"

"Sehlat."

"Do they always eat people?"  Keep it casual, Trip.

"No.  When bred in captivity and hand-reared, they are considered
suitable pets for the young."

"You're kidding!  All those teeth!"

"They do not bite the hand that feeds them."

"I didn't think Vulcans had pets.  You don't like Portos, do you?"

"The care of a pet promotes a sense of responsibility in a child. 
Something that should not be necessary in a star ship captain."

"Did you have one?"

"Yes."

He gave her a half-teasing, half-thoughtful look.  "Did it keep the
hokeet away?"

T'Pol looked away; Tucker knew far too much about her.  "So my parents
told me."

"That's sweet."

"It was logical.  Vulcans do not act out of sentiment."

"Not even for their kids?"

"No."

"Don't believe you."

"You should."  She watched him shift uncomfortably again.  "What is
wrong?"

"I'm hungry," which was true if not the answer to the question. 
"Think they'll feed us?"

"I do not know."

T'Pol had barely finished speaking when a table appeared in a corner
of the room.  Even from where they sat they could see that it was
covered with dishes.

"Neat trick," Tucker muttered and raised his voice slightly.  "What
about a door?"  Sadly that provoked no response and he grunted and
slipped off the bed to inspect the content of the table, giving it a
hard scrutiny.

"A problem?"

"Not with the food.  Steak for me, mushroom risotto without cheese for
you."  He glanced down at her as she joined him.  "Get the feeling
someone's been watching us?"

"It would seem so."  Probably only chef, Archer and Tucker knew that
she was very partial to mushroom risotto.

"Shame to waste it."  He took one of the chairs that had also been
provided and tucked in while T'Pol followed suit more cautiously. 
"I'm starting to feel like I'm being experimented on."

T'Pol nibbled a mushroom.  "That would fit such facts as we have,
although it does not explain why you were substituted for Lt Reed."

"He was too boring."  Tucker's eyes were mischievous.  "If all you did
was sit and look at each other for four hours …"

"Then perhaps we should endeavour to be less interesting."

"At least they don't want us dead."

"Yet."


Continued in Part Three

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Stories Only Forwarding

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