Disclaimer - Paramount own them. No infringement intended.
A 'North Star' episode addition, so spoilers for that episode. Trip/T'Pol, rated PG. Those outfits they're forced to wear have quite an effect...
*gropes nel*
*
There is no logical reason for the shuttlepod to suddenly feel so much smaller because there are only two of you.
There is no logical reason that - for the first time - you find the sight of him wearing nothing but his underwear uncomfortable. Decon is not a new experience, and there have been many instances of neuro-pressure where a lack of clothing has been a decided advantage.
There is no logical reason for you to feel pleased that he is just as unable to look at you.
You are always committed to your work, but now you face it with a deeper vigour, perhaps for a reason you don't wish to examine.
You wonder if you should feel grateful towards Lieutenant Reed or not.
Waking in sickbay - and despite the grogginess you feel from the effects of the phase pistol - you hear his voice asking after you.
You don't open your eyes.
He and the Doctor continue to converse (as you had already deduced, you are going to be 'just fine', though you disagree with the assessment that you 'may be somewhat crabby - for a Vulcan'). Long after they lapse into silence you're almost certain you can feel a hand resting on top of yours.
Just for a moment.
You spend a long time in your quarters attempting to meditate, but the constancy of the flame seems somehow less reassuring.
All of life is fragile, easily broken.
You're not sure why you realise this today.
A short time later you arrive at his quarters. He's not surprised to see you.
You share out the clothes you brought with you and - again, without studying each other - you both change into them.
He doesn't ask why. About this part he's confused, but he doesn't ask why.
And then he's there, dressed as you remember, looking as you remember, and you wonder: is this just some fantasy you're bringing to life? Are you supposed to have those?
He smiles at you and even though you're the one who has been giving orders to him since arriving, you absolutely know that at this moment he has complete power over you.
But you know him. This is not a responsibility he would take lightly.
"There is no logical reason for this," you tell him, "none of it."
You expect something that sounds like him. "Logic's highly overrated, T'Pol" or "Maybe that's a good thing."
It's something else.
"That doesn't mean this isn't you."
As he stands there in the varying shades of brown, waiting to see what you want, you lean forward to kiss him.
And when he pulls you close (or perhaps it's the other way around), the scarf freed from your hair, his mouth moving to your neck...you wonder if this is love or lust.
You wonder if either one should bother you.
~FINIS