Chivalry is Dead

Chapter 1

Rating- NC-17 and I intend to earn it too.
Disclaimer: I own nothing

Author's Note: Finally, I got this done in a way I like it and I gonna finish this story line before it drives me nuts. Now if only I can finish that Buffy fic...

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Prologue:

T'Ven briefly allowed herself to feel the annoyance that from stemmed the outrageous behavior of her two daughters before suppressing it with one of the many small meditation techniques she had developed since becoming a parent. While she had never labored under the illusion that raising children would be easy, she had certainly expected it to become easier as time passed which was not at all the case. But she had learned to add patience to her life, much more then a Vulcan should normally need but far less then was required to be a mother. Today, that patience was tested to the limit after being forced to interrupt yet another violent quarrel between her two daughters, T'Pol and Seri, who now sat with looks of pure hatred passing between them

T'Pol, her oldest, was now twelve years of age and rapidly reaching her time of soveck ma or society age. In less then two years, she would be expected to cast off the emotional behavior of her child hood and conform to the rules of adult society as dictated by the teachings of Surak. But despite this fast coming milestone in her daughter's life, T'Ven could see no evidence that she had matured at all. She was still as emotionally expressive as she had always been and now had begun a most disturbing habit of using human like deadpan humor and highly emotional sarcasm in the most awkward situations.

Seri, the younger of the two, seemed to contrast her sister's 'wilder' temperament. She was calm and well collected for a ten year old, very mature and intelligent and well on her way to the path of Surak. But she was simply too Vulcan. Her devotion to the path felt as though it was simply that of a young girl following indoctrination, something that was obviously her father's doing. T'Ven had never approved of blindly following the Path of Logic; a true devotee must logically draw their own conclusions for why that path is the best possible life choice. And they certainly should be willing to allow others to make that choice in their own time, Seri's intolerance towards her sister's oddly emotional being had made it clear she was unwilling to do that.

Over time T'Ven had hoped that the two sisters would reach some kind of middle ground, but much to their mother's dismay, Seri blindly followed the path set out for her and would deny any attempts to change her overzealous ways while T'Pol continued to show an increasingly emotional personality. It certainly would not have been quite so bad if they had simply learned to get along with one another, never had T'Ven seen two sisters quarrel over such inconsequential things.

T'Ven stifled another sigh and stepped forward to punish her wayward children who she silently feared would never come to terms with one another.

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Chapter One:

"You sure you don't smell that?" Archer sniffed the air again, still unable to pinpoint its exact location. Beside him his oldest friend, Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker III, shrugged wordlessly as he looked over the daily engine room reports with a slight frown. "Nope, nothin'. Now about those engine reports, I'm actually a little worried."

"Do you mean you don't smell anything or that you don't smell what I smell?" Archer began walking around the deck of his office searching everywhere for the source of the unusual odor that had invaded his personal space.

"Oh fer god's sake, Cap'n!" Trip couldn't stop himself from chuckling loudly at the sight of his fearless captain wondering around his office like an old woman in pursuit of some mysterious odor. "Cap'n, if it's bothering you I can send a team in here to figure out what's wrong. I'm just sayin,' I don't smell anything."

"The only thing that's bothering me is that I don't know what it is!" Archer said as he poked his head under his desk, "If I just knew what it was I wouldn't be so bent out of shape."

"Well, what exactly does it smell like?"

Archer felt his brow furrow in concentration for a moment as he placed the stench in the easiest category his memory could place it under. It just seemed so familiar. Where had he smelled it before? Then it hit him "Actually," He said with a sudden realization, "It kinda smells like you."

Tucker looked at his friend in shock, "Huh?"

'Well, not you exactly, more like that god awful cologne you always wore when you had a hot date back in the Academy." Archer sniffed again, "What was that stuff called again?"

"Paradise."

"Yeah! That was it!" The Captain eyed his friend suspiciously as he put two and two together, "You aren't wearing that stuff right now are you?"

He could've just ended it right there. Ended all the lies and dishonesty that had been hanging over his head like a dark cloud. Tucker had been planning on eventually telling Jon everything at some point, they'd been friends for so long and it seemed only right to tell him. Maybe now was the right time. "N-nope, I haven't worn that stuff in years but funny you shoul-"

Before Tucker could even begin to form the words the wall comm beeped loudly and T'Pol's monotone voice flooded the room like a sonic blanket. "T'Pol to Commander Tucker."

Saved by the bell Tucker thought wistfully.

Dropping the reports he'd been holding on the desk, he rose and touched the comm with his finger. "Go ahead T'Pol."

"I have some urgent matters to discuss with you concerning the sensor realignment you proposed earlier this week."

The Captain immediately grew concerned at hearing the word 'urgent', T'Pol never used words like that lightly. "T'Pol is there something I need to know about?" the last thing he needed right now was to be informed of something.

"No Captain, the information has little effect on general ship's functions, however if Commander Tucker is truly committed to the continuation of this project he it would behoove him to make an appearance." Despite the constant emotionless quality of her voice, there was an unmistakable tone of superiority tingeing its outer edges, which never failed to drive Tucker ballistic.

"Behoove me? Why you condescending little!"

All the worry he had felt moments before melted away and Archer felt his face breaking into a wide grin. No matter how many times he saw them do it, Jon always got a good chuckle out of seeing his two best officers fighting like small children.

T'Pol's voice seemed to grow more aggravated than before or at least as aggravated as she would allow them to hear over the intercom. "I am merely attempting to remind you that we have arranged similar meetings like this before and you have occasionally failed to appear."

Jon watched Trip begin to steam visibly at her words. What was it about that woman that seemed to drive his friend so crazy? "Trip, calm dow-" His assurances came far too late.

"I failed to appear because I was stranded with Malcolm on the friggin' shuttlepod!" Tucker growled through gritted teeth, "Now what I wanna know is exactly how many more times are you going to keep reminding me about the ONE SOLITARY TIME I didn't show up when you asked me to?!?"

"Commander, I am currently drawing from past experience if you wish for me to amend my--"

The Captain sighed softly remembering how long these things usually lasted. While it was entertaining, it was also a tad inappropriate for the setting of a Starfleet vessel. "Trip, please calm down. T'Pol, the Commander and I are done talking so I'll send him down to meet you in the-" he suddenly realized that he wasn't exactly sure where on the ship she was calling from. He didn't hear anyone talking in the background so it couldn't have been the Mess Hall.

"My quarters will suffice for now, Captain."

Tucker snorted but kept whatever mean spirited comment he had formulated to himself, much to Archer's over whelming relief. "Good, fine, everybody's happy."

"I am Vulcan, Captain, I am never *happy*."

"You got that right!" Trip fired back, his insults were rewarded with only stony silence that stretched for a few long seconds before they both heard the Vulcan finally respond icily
"T'Pol out." The comm beeped again as T'Pol ended her transmission and a tense silence passed over the room riding a wave of unexpressed rage emanating from Tucker as he scowled at the foul device that moments ago delivered a message from his most bitter enemy.

"Tucker!" Archer's concerned voice seemed to snap him out of it suddenly, leaving the engineer with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Sorry bout that, Cap'n, sort lost my head for a second."

"Guess so.' he replied with a smile, "So, I guess you have a little appointment to get to.'

"Guess so.' Tucker said with remembered rage but quickly maintaining his good mood, "I can send a team up here to check out that smell for you. Lemme know if it's still bothering you."

"Thanks." Archer replied as Tucker headed for the door.

As the door closed, Jon shook his head in combination of bewilderment and amusement. Only those two could fight about something as inconsequential as a sensor realignment.

Picking up the reports Trip had just filed, Archer wondered, not for the first time, if there was something else going on he didn't know about. But he just shook the notion away as usual instead focusing on matters of Command.

He was the Captain, what could possibly be going on that he didn't know about?

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T'Pol panted as her lover ran his soft fingers over her quivering body towards her supple breasts. She tried hard not to cry out at he began to stroke them with small brushing touches on the very tips of each erect nipple but her mouth betrayed her and she released a small gasp of unreleased pleasure that only encouraged him to continue his slow torture.

Tucker allowed himself a secret smile as he saw his ministrations take fruit in his partner's small (and rare) reaction. She was always so quiet during their sex that any time he heard her make noise or breathe heavier he treasured the moment, sometimes it made him feel like she was lowering his guard to him and allowing him a glimpse at the passionate woman he knew was somewhere in there underneath all that blasted control.

Of course she had to ruin it; she had to open her big mouth.

"C-Commander, I wish to copulate now." Despite the small struggle she experienced getting the words out, T'Pol's voice sounded terribly cold. It almost seemed as though she was ordering lunch or giving a standard Bridge order, it certainly wasn't the voice one used when speaking to a lover. Trip frowned with silent pain and displeasure.

This didn't mean anything to her. Bile bit the back of his throat and Trip's lip quivered in rage. How dare she ignore him, ignore what he was doing to her.

Angered by her complete lack of commitment, Tucker reached down with his left hand and pinched her. The surprise pain caused unexpected jolts of pleasure to course through the Vulcan's body and left her gasping for much needed air. He smiled when he saw her buck and shudder from lust as the hold his fingers had on her tightened slightly. The sweet mixture of pleasure and pain seemed to drive her mad with lust and she finally released a long, loud moan into the air, leaving an evil grin plastered all over the Engineer's boyish features.

Once he felt he had regained her attention, Trip growled roughly in her nearest ear before biting the sensitive lobe softly. "What the hell did I tell you about calling me 'Trip' when we're off duty?"

"I will call whatever I wish." Her eyes were filled with an animal defiance that refused to relinquish to his ministrations for any reason. Trip frowned again as he realized this was not a battle he was going to win anytime soon.

They were playing this game on her terms after all, not his.

"Earlier I requested that we begin copulation, COMMANDER," He could see her teeth gritting in a very admirable attempt to keep from strangling him; "I must insist we do so now."

Tucker sighed before consenting to her wishes and lifting her roughly onto the bed. This woman had him by the balls and he knew it. She was giving the orders; she was setting the pace, and worst of all--

He couldn't resist her no matter how hard he tried.

Letting her legs wrap around him, Trip settled himself on top of her and made sure he was braced properly before entering her slowly.

Vulcans and humans looked so alike that Trip simply couldn't fathom how physically different his alien lover was from him until he had first entered her on their first night of passion. But in the short time that the two of them had come together, Tucker had grown to like it. The intercourse with her was a truly deep moment of pleasure that created an air of beautiful silence. It almost felt like a form of heavy meditation. Trip could remember times when he'd spent hours, nearly days, in her bed during only a few slow methodical couplings that felt like eternities.

This time was no different as they both prepared for a long evening of burning passion atop T'Pol's once neatly folded bed as the darkness flowed around them like a liquid.

Trip felt her push him onto his back and was too entranced to resist, even if he had wanted to.

Vaguely he remembered that he was an officer in Starfleet and that they were on a starship called Enterprise. But soon inconsequential things like memory, race, age, and even his own name faded into nothing as Trip Tucker's entire world began and ended with the exotic woman now riding atop his body and taking him to the edge of welcomed mental oblivion.

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He had seen great many things in his life.

A great many more after being assigned to this mission.

But Malcolm Reed could honestly say he had never seen a Vulcan ship as damaged as the one now on the viewscreen. It was burned with various scorch marks from battle hits and there were cracks in the outer hull almost half the size of a football field with copious amounts of atmosphere leaking through into space like strange, fluffy clouds marring the beautiful obsidian void of deep space.

Someone had really done a number on them.

"Sir?" the helm officer's careful inquiries snapped Reed out of his grim thoughts to focus on the matter at hand. With as stern expression he could muster, he prepared himself for what he could only imagine was going to be a very long day.

"Bridge to Captain Archer, we have a situation."

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There was no afterglow when they had sex.

Instead of lying in bed with their bodies snuggled together closely, Trip would always wake to find T'Pol getting dressed while politely asking him to leave. Then he would say something curt and neutral like "Guess I'll be going then." before zipping up his pants and walking out the door. All the while he would wish he could stay a little longer with her and they sit down and really talk for once about how her day was going or what was troubling her.

Much to his dismay, this time was no different. He was still half naked while she had nearly finished dressing, once again it looked as though T'Pol was not prepared to stay to talk afterwards. Like Tucker actually wanted her to.

"Thank you Commander that was most relaxing." She said as she returned her undergarments to their rightful place on her body and began sliding the cat suit to it's always skin tight position, "You must excuse my rush but I am in a hurry to perform several scheduled crew evaluations that I failed to complete earlier in the week."

She was ignoring him again, pretending he wasn't there, he felt the anger slowly welling up inside him. Tucker's teeth gritted into a wall of enamel that kept his unspoken feelings deep in his throat, he should let just let her go right on preten-

"I require that you please hasten your departure from my abode, I do not want anyone to see you leaving."

Suddenly Trip saw red and 'the wall' in his mouth was nearly ground into stubs. This was the absolutely last straw. "Hasten my departure? What am I your puppet?"

T'Pol turned to look at him with cold eyes and stone face. There was no shock anywhere in her expression; it was as though she expected this conversation to happen at some point. "What is the matter Commander?" She said the words as a question but there was no need for him to answer because she seemed to already know what he was thinking.
"What's the matter?" He repeated the words with a cruel, cutting edge to his voice so it didn't feel like the innocent question she had phrased, "I'll tell you what the fuckin' matter is, you treatin' me like some walkin' sex toy, that's what the matter!"

Her eyebrow raised as T'Pol fought back a sigh of resignation. They had discussed this already, many times in fact. "Commander, you were well aware of the boundaries I set forth before we began this endeavor together."

'Yeah, yeah, 'sexual contact without emotional consequences' but you didn't say a goddamned thing about being at your beck and fuckin' call!"

"I required your presence.'

"I was in a meeting!"

Her eyebrow lowered to its original position as the Vulcan version of annoyed "Commander, if your discussion with Captain Archer was more important than our appointment to relieve internal stresses, I am certain you would have told me so before arriving here."

Tucker knew she was right. He knew that she'd beaten him once again with that magical logic of hers. He just didn't care. "Now you listen here--"

All senior officers to the Bridge, this is a tactical alert!"

They two reluctant lovers stared at each other with an unmasked disdain in their eyes. Of course, Tucker's disdain was on his face as well as his eyes. T'Pol refused to admit it but this entire exchange was beginning to actually make her feel very angry. What part of the terms of their relationship had he not understood? And why was she was thinking about this when she was supposed to be reporting to the Bridge?

"This conversation is now finished." T'Pol said as she walked past his half clothed form to the door.

As the door closed, Tucker sneered at the spot she had just been standing on. "Like hell it is." Was all he said before hurrying to get dressed and report to the Bridge.

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T'Pol arrived at the Bridge approximately two minutes before Commander Tucker and the Captain, something that would prove to be advantageous to her because it allowed her a few short moments to compose herself in the presence of what she saw on the view screen. It was an old Vulcan colony ship, obviously converted by an exiled dissident group to contain their outlawed studies in emotion. The damage to the vessel was extensive but her eyes roamed across the one part of the bow that was unmarred by weapon's damage.

It was a name plate with the words "Surak's Path" written in clear Vulcan script. Far behind her thick wall of emotional control, T'Pol's stomach twisted anxiously. She knew this vessel. She knew this vessel very well.

"Shall I hail the ship, ma'am?"

Crewman Darby's voice intruded into T'Pol's thoughts and she paused for a moment to continue her introspection. Despite a passing illogical temptation to say "no", T'Pol nodded to Darby and gave the order to establish a com link with the wounded ship. The screen blanked for a moment and then faded into a weak, static filled link with the other ship. T'Pol forced herself not to grimace when a young, short haired Vulcan woman with a similar facial structure as her own appeared on the screen.

"Greetings, my sister."

"Salutations Seri."

TBC

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