Okay, here we are.
Let's hope that, just as we would wish, in this second chapter this unidentified Puck is willing to explain something.
Yeah, because of stuff to explain there's really a lot.
Actually, still talking of that Episode seen on the screen, well, there is a lot in it that gives to think
For example, there is a tasty scene in the gym where T'Pol puts Archer in his place. With a lot of determination, to tell the truth; you could say even with a hint of malice. Possible?
In another scene, she is constantly saying "that Commander Tucker needs his Dilithium for the engines". Okay, we know that Enterprise needs Dilithium to keep on moving, but this means, if you well think about this, that it's Enterprise, not Trip, to be in need. And yet T'Pol speaks of Commander Tucker. Is there anything unspoken, by chance? Once again, how we have by now learned to know?
There's more. There's a scene where T'Pol brings Archer some food. A little weird on her part, don't you think? Could someone else, maybe just Trip, have inspired her to do so?
And most of all, when Archer finally makes his excuses, T'Pol and Trip exchange a look. They both seem to roll their eyes and think "finally our plan worked and we forced the Captain to make his excuses". It's a long look and you really get the feeling that there was more going on behind the scenes between Trip and T'Pol than what you could see.
It really brings to think that there is "something" very "hollow" between Archer and T'Pol .
And you must think that these words come not from me, who could appear a little suspicious-looking about such a matter, but from another person, another writer, a great writer, who, unlike me, doesn't lie. Never. I'm talking of Panyasan.
Is this enough, my friends? Or do you want more? Well, then think about this.
a.That Archer is unfortunately shown very often acting like an idiot, it's true, but frankly in that episode he exceeded the measure. Why?
b. Phlox is undoubtably a meddler, but definitely not a fool, and yet in that episode he had this crazy idea that there could be something between Archer and T'Pol. Not only that: he seems to work in order to bring this supposed "something" to some sort of realization, in some way. Basically, our dear doctor appears to act even more stupidly than Archer, if possible. Once again, why?
c. When Archer gives vent to his crazy idea about the existence of a sexual tension between him and his Vulcan First Officer, T'Pol seems almost to abide by the Captain's unlikely thoughts, as if reluctant to mortify him and limits herself to reply, sternly, yes, but not too much, all in all gently enough: "We're not in a position to allow ourselves to become attracted to one another, hypothetically. If we were, the friction that you speak of could be much more problematic." This sounds proper to T'Pol, but only up a certain point. From where has she drawn such words, such conduct, in balance between her Vulcaness and something that sounds as a kind of Humaneness? Is there, by chance, someone else, who gave her some tips? Someone with whom she makes a hell of a team?
Well, my friends, I believe it's really enough right now. Perhaps even too much.
So, do we want to try to find some answers? Yes? Okay.
Puck, hey Puck? Are you there? Do you want to tell us something?
Let's hope that, just as we would wish, in this second chapter this unidentified Puck is willing to explain something.
Yeah, because of stuff to explain there's really a lot.
Actually, still talking of that Episode seen on the screen, well, there is a lot in it that gives to think
For example, there is a tasty scene in the gym where T'Pol puts Archer in his place. With a lot of determination, to tell the truth; you could say even with a hint of malice. Possible?
In another scene, she is constantly saying "that Commander Tucker needs his Dilithium for the engines". Okay, we know that Enterprise needs Dilithium to keep on moving, but this means, if you well think about this, that it's Enterprise, not Trip, to be in need. And yet T'Pol speaks of Commander Tucker. Is there anything unspoken, by chance? Once again, how we have by now learned to know?
There's more. There's a scene where T'Pol brings Archer some food. A little weird on her part, don't you think? Could someone else, maybe just Trip, have inspired her to do so?
And most of all, when Archer finally makes his excuses, T'Pol and Trip exchange a look. They both seem to roll their eyes and think "finally our plan worked and we forced the Captain to make his excuses". It's a long look and you really get the feeling that there was more going on behind the scenes between Trip and T'Pol than what you could see.
It really brings to think that there is "something" very "hollow" between Archer and T'Pol .
And you must think that these words come not from me, who could appear a little suspicious-looking about such a matter, but from another person, another writer, a great writer, who, unlike me, doesn't lie. Never. I'm talking of Panyasan.
Is this enough, my friends? Or do you want more? Well, then think about this.
a.That Archer is unfortunately shown very often acting like an idiot, it's true, but frankly in that episode he exceeded the measure. Why?
b. Phlox is undoubtably a meddler, but definitely not a fool, and yet in that episode he had this crazy idea that there could be something between Archer and T'Pol. Not only that: he seems to work in order to bring this supposed "something" to some sort of realization, in some way. Basically, our dear doctor appears to act even more stupidly than Archer, if possible. Once again, why?
c. When Archer gives vent to his crazy idea about the existence of a sexual tension between him and his Vulcan First Officer, T'Pol seems almost to abide by the Captain's unlikely thoughts, as if reluctant to mortify him and limits herself to reply, sternly, yes, but not too much, all in all gently enough: "We're not in a position to allow ourselves to become attracted to one another, hypothetically. If we were, the friction that you speak of could be much more problematic." This sounds proper to T'Pol, but only up a certain point. From where has she drawn such words, such conduct, in balance between her Vulcaness and something that sounds as a kind of Humaneness? Is there, by chance, someone else, who gave her some tips? Someone with whom she makes a hell of a team?
Well, my friends, I believe it's really enough right now. Perhaps even too much.
So, do we want to try to find some answers? Yes? Okay.
Puck, hey Puck? Are you there? Do you want to tell us something?
Mh ... judging from what we can read, at present this Puck doesn't seem to have a strong desire to resolve our doubts.
Oh to the hell! What say you, friends? In the teeth of this damn Puck, do we want to try? Yes?
Oh to the hell! What say you, friends? In the teeth of this damn Puck, do we want to try? Yes?
Okay. In this case...
Chapter Two
Never could I have suspected that I may stay so, in his arms, loved and in love. Never. And still, it is so.
Fortunately, it's so.
Sure, because even though I felt his puissant attraction from the beginning, I felt afraid.
How was it possible that I desired so mightily to be his? That his scent was so exhilarating, was claiming me so powerfully to belong to him? That such a logical woman like I am, a Vulcan, cold and rational, was dying to give... her prettiest flower, as he would say, to him, to a Human man?
That such a frightening and... and wonderful destiny would await me?
Just me, the most... the luckiest Vulcan in the Universe.
Fortunately. Fortunately, yes.
Fortunately, or maybe and more simply, rationally and logically, I understood very swiftly that logic wasn't ignoring or, worse, combating my desire, my attraction. My feelings.
(*Cast out your fear... *)
"Cast out your fear," said the founding father of our civilization, the one to whom we Vulcans owe our salvation. That's what I did, and no one can understand the rightness of Surak's precept more than me.
I snuggle up to my Trip even more, closed eyes, savouring blissfully the warmth of his body against mine, the strength of his arms around me, the...
I sigh softly and joyously, at peace with myself .
... the unspeakable sweetness of his touch, of his hands, so strong and callous and still so gentle, of his fingertips, while stroking my ear tips so lightly...
... the prolonged shivers of pleasure which he makes run across my spine with his loving and exciting caresses.
Cast out your fear...
The fear that logic is not compatible with love, that Vulcans cannot be allowed to be free. Control of emotions doesn't mean that they must be ignored. It is impossible... and unfair... not to savour them...
There are no boundaries for an Ashaya which is pure.
I seize my Ashayam's hand. I hold it firmly and press it against my cheek.
Why was I afraid to take this hand when he offered it to me the first day?
Because of the fear for the unknown? Of the scary depth of what I espied inside my katra?
Because... because of the fear that the rigour of my people would ostracize me from my own race?
Or more simply, because of fear. Mere fear. Incomprehensible fear. Crippling fear. A feeling, an emotion, which Vulcans don't have.
Because they lie! To the Universe and to themselves.
Fear is what compelled us to come out from the mud, to reach the stars, and we lie when we say that we don't experience it.
Simply... as Surak said... we must cast out the fear from our hearts, so as to make room for what the fear what fear would deny to us.
Like Ashaya, love.
Like the love I feel for my Trip.
I open my eyes and look at him. He is watching me, tenderly, smiling sweetly at me.
Tenderly... sweetly...
What a world of warm sensations he disclosed to me!
Since... since that day, not long after we met, when he... shamelessly... called me... Hon.
Honey.
And his eyes were strange; they were sparkling... and full of fear. Fear, yes. He, too, was feeling fear, because he had done one thing I hadn't dared to do; he had found the courage to peer into the depths of his heart and to bring to the light what he was feeling for me. With only that word, in his Human and in his typical way, he wanted to reveal to me what he had found inside himself.
And, with fear, he was asking me to reciprocate.
And I did cast out my fear. I called him Trip.
And I gave to him - I smile to myself, remembering the way my Trip voiced his thoughts - the most precious treasure I had. Precious, because it was for him.
And we became the one of the other.
I go on staring at him and softly caress his face. Still smiling, he lovingly strokes my face in return, as he continues to watch me.
I don't smile. I did it with my T'hai'la from time to time, but it's difficult for me to do it. I am Vulcan. I can't be what I am not. But I know that my Trip knows that I am smiling with my katra and my heart. Of delight and of love.
A love - I close my eyes again, with a hint of sadness - a love hidden, so as not to be... forbidden.
Just so, forbidden, because both of us, he and I, were perfectly aware that neither his nor my countrymen were ready and willing to accept our relationship, our... romance. Let alone the violation of Starfleet rules. Even though there are too many things which are still incomprehensible between our two races, these differences are the salt of our love. They are the daily challenges which push us toward each other more and more, day after day. They compel us to open our minds, drawing us together, growing together. Once, I was incapable of believing that such a hard challenge could be won, but we, together, win it, day by day, because...I cling to my T'hai'la...because our Ashaya is greater than any obstacle.
I don't dare to think of what would have happened to me if I had denied what I feel for my T'hai'la. If Logic - the one truth - hadn't guided my steps, if I had succumbed to my fear, what would my life have been? A lifelong inner struggle, without aim and without rest, torn between regret for what I had lost and the despair I felt because I was unable to have him in my life anymore. I don't know what I might have been capable of doing. Would I have ended up searching for some dangerous solutions? It's strange this thought which hits me, but probably it isn't too far from what could have occurred to me if I hadn't chosen sagely. Which solutions? Dope, for example? Dope, in which I would have been able to find the annihilation of my problems and myself. Or which, maybe, would have allowed me to finally be open with my Ashal-veh. To take from him and to give him what I desired with my whole heart.
I open wide my eyes, bewildered and dumbfounded. But what kinds of thoughts are crossing my mind? From what foreign territory, from what unknown land, from what diverse dimension do they come? I nuzzle the neck of my beloved, squinting with quiet delight, purring happily in his protective embrace. HE is my drug! My night-after-day-after-night-after-day, diurnal and nocturnal, indispensable elixir of happiness. How can I think that my life could be different? That there could be a space and a time where I could be trapped in a dreary solitude? Without him? Without belonging to him? Body and katra?
I wrap up myself joyously in his arms, even more strongly. This is my life. And no one, even unwittingly, can think to change it. No one can dare to do something able to perturb my life, mine and my Trip's. Before they act, people should realize that their schemes could have unwelcome effects. The Doctor was perfectly aware of the Captain's propensity toward me, and he DELIBERATELY pushed him to try to test me in regard to the possibility that I might be willing to reciprocate his feelings. What The Captain revealed to my Trip doesn't leave any doubts.
The Doctor wanted to test his own personal skillfulness by means of the Captain's awkwardness.
The Doctor knew that Vulcans don't like anyone meddling in their private business.
The Doctor knew PERFECTLY what he wanted to achieve.
And if the Doctor is really the clever beholder that he claims to be, I'm sure he wasn't unaware that there was the possibility that I wasn't free.
He acted in a way that was disrespectful of the other persons involved. Irrespective of the rightness of his opinion about the Captain's hidden compulsions, he didn't bother to tell me anything in regard to his underhand manoeuvres, despite the fact that, after all, I am an adult woman, capable of defending myself. And while there isn't anything bad about a man who wants to open himself with a woman to whom he is attracted, that doesn't mean that our smart Doctor didn't vex me. Me and my Trip.
And about that, about my relationship with my T'hai'la, whether this relationship is hidden or not, I am incapable of being placid, of thinking and acting with all the logic I normally use.
This thought strikes me unexpectedly. It's true, it... it hasn't been logical what my Trip and I...
Could it be... could it be factual what people of my race say under their breath, about Vulcan sexual behaviour? They murmur... they murmur that a Bond, a body and mind link, can develop between two people who love each other... deeply, and that no one must dare to put their fingers into this Bond, voluntarily or involuntarily. Logic is unable to guide the... lovers who share this Bond, because the logical Vulcans don't know any logic in their love.
My T'hai'la and I love each other passionately and profoundly. I don't think another woman and another man might share a love so intense. Could we... could we share a Bond? Even if my Trip is not Vulcan? And could this explain the... the disproportion of our reaction toward the Doctor? Because that's true... our reaction hasn't been proportionate and... and logical.
Why? Because there's something between us, a...a Bond, which doesn't grant derogations? Which works to keep away any interference, totally heedless of any logic and any civil policy? And to such an extent that I haven't even minimal remorse? And... and it is possible that something that my T'hai'la and I didn't really plan, functioned so nicely, because we are able to act and to think as a very close-knit team? In reality? As a unique person?
I wiggle, ill-at-ease in the arms of my beloved and he perceives my discomfort. He is capable of sensing my inner troubles... always. I thought it was his sensibility, but... what if there was also something else? The Bond?
The hands of my T'hai'la smooth my skin to try to reduce my uneasiness. His lips cover my whole face with soft kisses.
I calm down. Always, his caresses and his kisses manage to quiet me, more, much more, than any meditation.
Probably I need meditation, but... I prefer something else. The wait was too long and I haven't been sated yet.
I stretch voluptuously in my Ashayam's arms and reach for his mouth with mine, and brushing it lightly against his, I talk softly upon his lips.
"I would like to experience again some of those pleasant circumstances where we are able to function as a very close-knit team."
His soft laugh fills the air and my heart, then his hands and his mouth and his body become greedy for me, and I plummet headlong into the all-consuming pleasure to be his.
One last thought flashes in my mind, before I lose myself in his love.
(*I won't be able to meditate this night. Sleep will grab me earlier, and so I will dream.
I will dream of my Trip. *)
Oh well! In one way or another, I must try to sleep.
The last events are behind me. All has been done, and it's useless to cry over spilt milk. Bad figures or not, I am still the Captain.
Yeah, sure. The great Captain.
I get up, unable to rest.
I reach the space window and watch through it. In the dark which surrounds us, there are only the continuous lustrous stripes of the stars, which stream by rapidly all around, in our warp velocity.
Our warp velocity.
Just so, the warp velocity due to the engines my father designed. And which Trip oversees, ensuring they can function.
Trip. My friend. The Chief Engineer. The one who everyone esteems and respects. And appreciates.
Even T'Pol.
Yeah. They argue and bicker and squabble and have tiffs.
Continuously.
And still, somehow, they give aid to each other.
Always.
Apparently they are constantly avoiding each other and still, ultimately, they... they seem to look for each other.
Always.
If I didn't know that T'Pol is a Vulcan and... and that she is T'Pol, and If I didn't know that Trip is Trip, I might be led up to believe... to believe...
Namely...
I mean...
Well! They... they could seem to behave like two... like two...
But... what the hell? What sort of thoughts...?
I turn around and return to my bed.
I tumble heavily on it. The silence encircles me. The only sound is the soft humming of the engines, which work safely... under the sure and steady hand of their lord.
Trip.
I look at the ceiling. Porthos has placed his muzzle on my thigh, and I absently start to caress his head, behind his ear.
Absently. Because my brain is straying into weird thoughts.
Trip.
T'Pol.
Trip... T'Pol...
"Commander Tucker needs his Dilithium for the engines". If I remember well, these were T'Pol's words.
"Commander Tucker needs his Dilithium for the engines."
Why didn't she say "Engines need the Dilithium"? Or "The ship needs Dilithium". Or "WE need Dilithium." Why... "Commander Tucker?"
Weird thoughts.
Weird.
That look. I noticed it, even in the middle of my toilsome apologies to those damned Aliens.
They... Trip and T'Pol... exchanged that look. It was long... it was... conniving... it was...
It was...
Damn... damn weird thoughts! But where the hell do they come? From... from...
There must have been something on that blasted planet! Sure. That's why I was so unreasonable. My inability to sleep, my troubles, my... my stupid dreams about T'Pol, my... oblique approaches to her... All must have a reason, for Pete's sake! NEVER, would I have behaved the way I did, if there hadn't been some sort of... of influence, of...
Also the Doctor... yes, also the Doctor...
Ohhh, to hell with him! And to hell with those exasperating Kreetassans, and their twat pretensions! And to hell with T'Pol, too! And with Trip! And with... and with me!
And to hell with these goddam absurd thoughts!
THESE GROTESQUE THOUGHTS!
How can I manage to sleep... with thoughts like these?
The last events are behind me. All has been done, and it's useless to cry over spilt milk. Bad figures or not, I am still the Captain.
Yeah, sure. The great Captain.
I get up, unable to rest.
I reach the space window and watch through it. In the dark which surrounds us, there are only the continuous lustrous stripes of the stars, which stream by rapidly all around, in our warp velocity.
Our warp velocity.
Just so, the warp velocity due to the engines my father designed. And which Trip oversees, ensuring they can function.
Trip. My friend. The Chief Engineer. The one who everyone esteems and respects. And appreciates.
Even T'Pol.
Yeah. They argue and bicker and squabble and have tiffs.
Continuously.
And still, somehow, they give aid to each other.
Always.
Apparently they are constantly avoiding each other and still, ultimately, they... they seem to look for each other.
Always.
If I didn't know that T'Pol is a Vulcan and... and that she is T'Pol, and If I didn't know that Trip is Trip, I might be led up to believe... to believe...
Namely...
I mean...
Well! They... they could seem to behave like two... like two...
But... what the hell? What sort of thoughts...?
I turn around and return to my bed.
I tumble heavily on it. The silence encircles me. The only sound is the soft humming of the engines, which work safely... under the sure and steady hand of their lord.
Trip.
I look at the ceiling. Porthos has placed his muzzle on my thigh, and I absently start to caress his head, behind his ear.
Absently. Because my brain is straying into weird thoughts.
Trip.
T'Pol.
Trip... T'Pol...
"Commander Tucker needs his Dilithium for the engines". If I remember well, these were T'Pol's words.
"Commander Tucker needs his Dilithium for the engines."
Why didn't she say "Engines need the Dilithium"? Or "The ship needs Dilithium". Or "WE need Dilithium." Why... "Commander Tucker?"
Weird thoughts.
Weird.
That look. I noticed it, even in the middle of my toilsome apologies to those damned Aliens.
They... Trip and T'Pol... exchanged that look. It was long... it was... conniving... it was...
It was...
Damn... damn weird thoughts! But where the hell do they come? From... from...
There must have been something on that blasted planet! Sure. That's why I was so unreasonable. My inability to sleep, my troubles, my... my stupid dreams about T'Pol, my... oblique approaches to her... All must have a reason, for Pete's sake! NEVER, would I have behaved the way I did, if there hadn't been some sort of... of influence, of...
Also the Doctor... yes, also the Doctor...
Ohhh, to hell with him! And to hell with those exasperating Kreetassans, and their twat pretensions! And to hell with T'Pol, too! And with Trip! And with... and with me!
And to hell with these goddam absurd thoughts!
THESE GROTESQUE THOUGHTS!
How can I manage to sleep... with thoughts like these?
Her breath became soft and regular. She sleeps.
She is indeed knackered, as Mal would say, as far as a Vulcan can be. These days have been really nerve-wracking and irksome, both for me and for her. If her desire for me has been even less than half of what I've felt for her...
I smile to myself. Well! If I have learned anything about a Vulcan's desire during the time we became a clandestine couple, it is that a Vulcan's desire... and needs... are very strong, much more than a Human's.
I chuckle softly. Oh yes. I can testify on that on a personal, well-informed basis.
And - I become again serious - now I can really understand why Vulcans want to suppress, or rather to control their emotions, because if they didn't do it, they would be destroyed by them, unless... unless they had a safe harbour for them.
Like I am for my T'Pol, and these are her words.
I look down at her quiet face, resting peacefully on my chest.
Her lips - fragrant and swollen - are slightly open as she sleeps, showing a little of the white ivory of her lovely teeth. Her delicate eyelids hide the splendour of her eyes, too shy in the half-light to display their dazzling brightness. Her long and graceful eyelashes vibrate gently, while her small nose claims gentle kisses, like her soft and velvety cheeks. The marvellous, enchanting tips of her tiny pointed ears, which are made for nibbling, peep out from beneath her hair, tousled now after our lovemaking.
The vision of the perfect beauty.
I watch her. Incredulous.
She is mine. This unique miracle of nature, as gorgeous in her appearance as admirable in her intelligence... this chest of the most precious and most sparkling treasures...this woman wanted to give herself to me. For me to love.
I don't know what I have done to deserve such a wonderful destiny. No, that's untrue. I know what I did and what I do, and what I will do more and more with the passing of the days and the nights.
I sigh, lowly, to not disturb my T'Pol, savouring the warmth and the softness of her body against mine. My right arm is around her well-rounded shoulders and my left behind my nape, to support my head. And her sweet weight.
I know the reason. It is the love I feel for her, a love so great and so deep that she wanted to be wrapped in it.
But, on the other hand, how the hell could I not have fallen in love with her? She is my destiny. I can't follow any but this road.
I sigh again, still with bated attention. Yeah, yeah. I love my T'Pol more than my life, but if I love her in earnest and I care for her and our love, I must leave.
I would want to taste all the joy, all the pleasure denied to us. To wake up and find my sweet Vulcan girl yet sleeping in my arms, but that's impossible; it isn't allowed to us. If I want us to go on with our love story, I must return to my quarters now, before people start to move about the ship and my exit from her lodging is inevitably noticed. That is what I have to do, in the dark of night, every time we share our intimacy.
I chuckle again, softly and mischievously. Many, many times, I must say. Not to mention those little pleasurable trespasses we have here and there on the ship, now and then. The more forbidden they are, the more... satisfying.
Oh well, enough now. It is useless to complain about something which has no remedy. And what we two have is far beyond what any other people have. I mustn't destroy this unique treasure.
Slow, slow, extremely cautiously, because I know very well how light her sleep is. I disentangle myself from her embrace, then I get up and stand in front of her bed.
I look at her. She whines feebly and turns over between the sheets, in search of me and of a little of warmth.
Quickly, I bend down and, after covering her with the blanket, I place a soft kiss on her forehead.
She softens and quietens immediately. I smile, straightening up.
I will always be proud of the way she relaxes under my touch and my care, whether she is conscious of them or not.
I shake my head and turn around, looking for my clothes. I find them and grudgingly I get dressed again.
One last look at my petite Vulcan love.
Oh well. Let's go.
I head for the door, slowly and unwillingly. I halt in front of it and place my finger upon the opening button.
Oh, darn it! One glance yet!
I turn around, once again, and once again I contemplate my treasure.
I watch her, rapt.
She is small, soft, quiet. She appears confident, all enwrapped in the blanket.
She appears... vulnerable.
Like a little girl, defenceless and dependent on the one who is willing to comprehend her and to care for her.
ME!
I keep on observing her as in a daze, abruptly aware of the extent of what she gave me.
She gave me her reliance and the consciousness of her weaknesses, like only a woman really in love can do.
Only with her love.
Only I can know this side of her. The others can know only her strengths.
Strengths? Which strengths?
The thought strikes me suddenly and strongly.
Which of her strengths do the others recognize? WHICH SORT OF STRENGTHS? Which, for Beelzebub queue's sake?!?
The strength to be rigorous? And firm? And steady? And stern? With everyone and even with herself? The strength to be logical and determined? And icy? Glacial? Unapproachable? A real kick in the ass?
And the strength, the courage to be alone - the only Vulcan on a ship surrounded by unfriendly Humans? Doesn't this strength count?
Have we placed any value on the strength to try to understand these Humans, which are judged by her race as a sort of barbarous cavemen? To want to share their efforts and their hopes? Against her own preconceptions? Todefy her prejudices, the habits and the beliefs of her whole life, of the culture she grew up in?
Isn't this - THIS! - her true strength? The strength we Humans, so ready to blame her and her race, are constantly in search of?
And...
I lower my head, struck by the depth of understanding which powerfully invaded my brain.
And... the strength to cede to her love, digging down deep inside her soul, any fear and any doubt... the strength to break the barrier which seemed to rise as an insurmountable bastion between her and me, the man who is the complete antipode of a Vulcan male, and even more, of what SHE is...
This strength... will I be... will someone ever be able to comprehend the grandeur of this strength?
And... the strength... the strength...
I lift my eyes to watch my sleeping life reason with this new awareness, an awareness that I fully realize for the first time.
... the strength to give me the courage to dare to open my feelings to her, to want her love... this strength... this strength...
I fold my arms on my chest and clench my eyes, attempting to capture the weird thoughts which started hovering in my mind.
What would have happened - to me, to her - if I hadn't been capable of looking inside myself and understanding, with clarity, what I felt for her? And above all, what if I hadn't been capable of revealing these feelings to her?
What... what sort of Trip would I have become?
A Trip... a Trip different from the one I am? Unhappy and aimless? A... a Trip without her?
I open my eyes and look at my T'Pol, with something... a sort of dumb fear... rolling in my chest.
A Trip without love! WITHOUT HER LOVE!
This Trip... this Trip would be a very miserable man! A Trip like this one could meet hard problems and, without the sweet and strong support of his T'Pol, he could succumb to...
I clench my arms to my chest, unable to cease these absurd and... and scary thoughts.
I know the sombre side of myself, and I am not unaware of the gall I could be capable of spewing as I fight against the blows dealt by hard events. With my T'Pol in my life, with her quiet wisdom, with the certainty of her strength next to me, of her firm love around me, I can be only the Trip I am, but... without her?
And... if I hadn't been capable of making her understand that I was in love with her? What would have happened in this case? Would understanding come the moment I finally found the courage to reveal myself to her? Or would she have to be the one who would take the initiative? Or...or would we go on struggling within ourselves, without having the mettle to do anything? Or would she deny her feelings for me, yielding to her fear and to the fear of betraying her heritage? Or...
I wince suddenly.
But what the hell...?
What are these moronic thoughts? From where do they arrive?
There is no other Trip but THIS Trip! Me! The Trip who has his T'Pol. THIS T'Pol! The T'Pol who at this moment is sleeping before me in the bed where we have loved each other with passion and tenderness. The T'Pol who is in love with me, and who says this to me, and demonstrates it to me every day and every night with words and with deeds.
I unfold my arms and stare at her, smiling in bliss.
This T'Pol, yes. The T'Pol I love to such an extent that I am unable to express it.
The T'Pol who returns to me all the love I feel for her.
I shake my head, almost like attempting to clear my mind.
Indeed enough, now. Enough.
I open my lips in a soft and low sigh. "Bye, Hon. Sleep well. Tomorrow I will be again with you."
Like a tad at his first love games, I bring my fingers to my mouth, set a small kiss upon them, then make a gesture with my hand as if I am throwing the kiss to my T'Pol.
"Until tomorrow. Bye, my love."
It's time. I turn around and open the door. This is the most difficult moment because, if someone sees me, the fat would be in the fire. Surely it is not anyone's businesses that I am exiting the Sub-Commander's room at this time of the night, but... the village is little and people murmur. Better if we don't give the opportunity for any chatter.
Anyway, the fact that it's late is reassuring; it's improbable that there can be a living soul around, and there are no noises in the corridor.
I peep out the door. The corridor is empty. I come out very swiftly, while the door closes behind me.
I quickly round the corner. Now the game is over. Whoever I meet in the corridor won't be suspicious. It's usual for me to be late; all people know that I am a night owl.
My quarters. I sigh. My lonely room. Oh c'mon, man! Do not dare to complain. Your room may be lonely, but surely you are not alone!
I enter my room. Maybe a shower... Nah. Too late. Tomorrow morning, sure. Now it is better to go to bed.
I am tired. These days... I laugh softly. THIS NIGHT...
I undress rapidly and fall on the bed.
I close my eyes.
I smile while I fall asleep. I know I will dream.
I will dream of my T'Pol.
She is indeed knackered, as Mal would say, as far as a Vulcan can be. These days have been really nerve-wracking and irksome, both for me and for her. If her desire for me has been even less than half of what I've felt for her...
I smile to myself. Well! If I have learned anything about a Vulcan's desire during the time we became a clandestine couple, it is that a Vulcan's desire... and needs... are very strong, much more than a Human's.
I chuckle softly. Oh yes. I can testify on that on a personal, well-informed basis.
And - I become again serious - now I can really understand why Vulcans want to suppress, or rather to control their emotions, because if they didn't do it, they would be destroyed by them, unless... unless they had a safe harbour for them.
Like I am for my T'Pol, and these are her words.
I look down at her quiet face, resting peacefully on my chest.
Her lips - fragrant and swollen - are slightly open as she sleeps, showing a little of the white ivory of her lovely teeth. Her delicate eyelids hide the splendour of her eyes, too shy in the half-light to display their dazzling brightness. Her long and graceful eyelashes vibrate gently, while her small nose claims gentle kisses, like her soft and velvety cheeks. The marvellous, enchanting tips of her tiny pointed ears, which are made for nibbling, peep out from beneath her hair, tousled now after our lovemaking.
The vision of the perfect beauty.
I watch her. Incredulous.
She is mine. This unique miracle of nature, as gorgeous in her appearance as admirable in her intelligence... this chest of the most precious and most sparkling treasures...this woman wanted to give herself to me. For me to love.
I don't know what I have done to deserve such a wonderful destiny. No, that's untrue. I know what I did and what I do, and what I will do more and more with the passing of the days and the nights.
I sigh, lowly, to not disturb my T'Pol, savouring the warmth and the softness of her body against mine. My right arm is around her well-rounded shoulders and my left behind my nape, to support my head. And her sweet weight.
I know the reason. It is the love I feel for her, a love so great and so deep that she wanted to be wrapped in it.
But, on the other hand, how the hell could I not have fallen in love with her? She is my destiny. I can't follow any but this road.
I sigh again, still with bated attention. Yeah, yeah. I love my T'Pol more than my life, but if I love her in earnest and I care for her and our love, I must leave.
I would want to taste all the joy, all the pleasure denied to us. To wake up and find my sweet Vulcan girl yet sleeping in my arms, but that's impossible; it isn't allowed to us. If I want us to go on with our love story, I must return to my quarters now, before people start to move about the ship and my exit from her lodging is inevitably noticed. That is what I have to do, in the dark of night, every time we share our intimacy.
I chuckle again, softly and mischievously. Many, many times, I must say. Not to mention those little pleasurable trespasses we have here and there on the ship, now and then. The more forbidden they are, the more... satisfying.
Oh well, enough now. It is useless to complain about something which has no remedy. And what we two have is far beyond what any other people have. I mustn't destroy this unique treasure.
Slow, slow, extremely cautiously, because I know very well how light her sleep is. I disentangle myself from her embrace, then I get up and stand in front of her bed.
I look at her. She whines feebly and turns over between the sheets, in search of me and of a little of warmth.
Quickly, I bend down and, after covering her with the blanket, I place a soft kiss on her forehead.
She softens and quietens immediately. I smile, straightening up.
I will always be proud of the way she relaxes under my touch and my care, whether she is conscious of them or not.
I shake my head and turn around, looking for my clothes. I find them and grudgingly I get dressed again.
One last look at my petite Vulcan love.
Oh well. Let's go.
I head for the door, slowly and unwillingly. I halt in front of it and place my finger upon the opening button.
Oh, darn it! One glance yet!
I turn around, once again, and once again I contemplate my treasure.
I watch her, rapt.
She is small, soft, quiet. She appears confident, all enwrapped in the blanket.
She appears... vulnerable.
Like a little girl, defenceless and dependent on the one who is willing to comprehend her and to care for her.
ME!
I keep on observing her as in a daze, abruptly aware of the extent of what she gave me.
She gave me her reliance and the consciousness of her weaknesses, like only a woman really in love can do.
Only with her love.
Only I can know this side of her. The others can know only her strengths.
Strengths? Which strengths?
The thought strikes me suddenly and strongly.
Which of her strengths do the others recognize? WHICH SORT OF STRENGTHS? Which, for Beelzebub queue's sake?!?
The strength to be rigorous? And firm? And steady? And stern? With everyone and even with herself? The strength to be logical and determined? And icy? Glacial? Unapproachable? A real kick in the ass?
And the strength, the courage to be alone - the only Vulcan on a ship surrounded by unfriendly Humans? Doesn't this strength count?
Have we placed any value on the strength to try to understand these Humans, which are judged by her race as a sort of barbarous cavemen? To want to share their efforts and their hopes? Against her own preconceptions? Todefy her prejudices, the habits and the beliefs of her whole life, of the culture she grew up in?
Isn't this - THIS! - her true strength? The strength we Humans, so ready to blame her and her race, are constantly in search of?
And...
I lower my head, struck by the depth of understanding which powerfully invaded my brain.
And... the strength to cede to her love, digging down deep inside her soul, any fear and any doubt... the strength to break the barrier which seemed to rise as an insurmountable bastion between her and me, the man who is the complete antipode of a Vulcan male, and even more, of what SHE is...
This strength... will I be... will someone ever be able to comprehend the grandeur of this strength?
And... the strength... the strength...
I lift my eyes to watch my sleeping life reason with this new awareness, an awareness that I fully realize for the first time.
... the strength to give me the courage to dare to open my feelings to her, to want her love... this strength... this strength...
I fold my arms on my chest and clench my eyes, attempting to capture the weird thoughts which started hovering in my mind.
What would have happened - to me, to her - if I hadn't been capable of looking inside myself and understanding, with clarity, what I felt for her? And above all, what if I hadn't been capable of revealing these feelings to her?
What... what sort of Trip would I have become?
A Trip... a Trip different from the one I am? Unhappy and aimless? A... a Trip without her?
I open my eyes and look at my T'Pol, with something... a sort of dumb fear... rolling in my chest.
A Trip without love! WITHOUT HER LOVE!
This Trip... this Trip would be a very miserable man! A Trip like this one could meet hard problems and, without the sweet and strong support of his T'Pol, he could succumb to...
I clench my arms to my chest, unable to cease these absurd and... and scary thoughts.
I know the sombre side of myself, and I am not unaware of the gall I could be capable of spewing as I fight against the blows dealt by hard events. With my T'Pol in my life, with her quiet wisdom, with the certainty of her strength next to me, of her firm love around me, I can be only the Trip I am, but... without her?
And... if I hadn't been capable of making her understand that I was in love with her? What would have happened in this case? Would understanding come the moment I finally found the courage to reveal myself to her? Or would she have to be the one who would take the initiative? Or...or would we go on struggling within ourselves, without having the mettle to do anything? Or would she deny her feelings for me, yielding to her fear and to the fear of betraying her heritage? Or...
I wince suddenly.
But what the hell...?
What are these moronic thoughts? From where do they arrive?
There is no other Trip but THIS Trip! Me! The Trip who has his T'Pol. THIS T'Pol! The T'Pol who at this moment is sleeping before me in the bed where we have loved each other with passion and tenderness. The T'Pol who is in love with me, and who says this to me, and demonstrates it to me every day and every night with words and with deeds.
I unfold my arms and stare at her, smiling in bliss.
This T'Pol, yes. The T'Pol I love to such an extent that I am unable to express it.
The T'Pol who returns to me all the love I feel for her.
I shake my head, almost like attempting to clear my mind.
Indeed enough, now. Enough.
I open my lips in a soft and low sigh. "Bye, Hon. Sleep well. Tomorrow I will be again with you."
Like a tad at his first love games, I bring my fingers to my mouth, set a small kiss upon them, then make a gesture with my hand as if I am throwing the kiss to my T'Pol.
"Until tomorrow. Bye, my love."
It's time. I turn around and open the door. This is the most difficult moment because, if someone sees me, the fat would be in the fire. Surely it is not anyone's businesses that I am exiting the Sub-Commander's room at this time of the night, but... the village is little and people murmur. Better if we don't give the opportunity for any chatter.
Anyway, the fact that it's late is reassuring; it's improbable that there can be a living soul around, and there are no noises in the corridor.
I peep out the door. The corridor is empty. I come out very swiftly, while the door closes behind me.
I quickly round the corner. Now the game is over. Whoever I meet in the corridor won't be suspicious. It's usual for me to be late; all people know that I am a night owl.
My quarters. I sigh. My lonely room. Oh c'mon, man! Do not dare to complain. Your room may be lonely, but surely you are not alone!
I enter my room. Maybe a shower... Nah. Too late. Tomorrow morning, sure. Now it is better to go to bed.
I am tired. These days... I laugh softly. THIS NIGHT...
I undress rapidly and fall on the bed.
I close my eyes.
I smile while I fall asleep. I know I will dream.
I will dream of my T'Pol.
********************************
Oh ... ah ... uh ... Was I right, my friends? This stuff, it is not so strange that it might be true? But .. but who are this Trip and this T'Pol? And yet they seem exactly them. And. .. yes ... they seem to have a sort of suspicion that there might be another Trip and another T'Pol, somewhere else. In love with each other, just as the two of them, but foolishly reluctant to admit it, and therefore doomed (mh..."almost" doomed) to an equally foolish loneliness. And. .. and also to do unworthy things, as a consequence! What kind of reality is this? Where are we? This damn Puck, does he know something? And, if so, will he want to be so kind to tell us something, finally, in the next chapter? Well, let's try. Click on the image, here beside, and let's see. |
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COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]
COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]