Claimed

**Claimed**

**By Giggling Vulcan**

**Rating: R (language and sexual situations)**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, Paramount owns Star Trek, but that doesn't mean we can't have kinky MU Tucker fun for free…**

**Summary: MU Trip recalls Pon Farr fun with MU Polly.**

**Spoilers: "In a Mirror, Darkly Part I"**

Tucker crashed into his makeshift bunk aboard the _USS Defiant _in exhaustion. The ship was gone, the Tholians were everywhere…but he was somewhat content. They'd done what they'd set out to do. He wasn't too enthused about the mission at first, but stepping aboard the bridge of a 23rd century starship had gotten him into gear pretty quickly. To hell with _Enterprise_! Who needed her? She was a bucket of bolts compared the beauty they were on now. He'd had enough of the same old ship…this one excited him.

Yet as happy as he was to be here…his mind kept straying back to the reason the ship was sabotaged in the first place. He couldn't help but remember that it was his fault…

No, not his. It was that Vulcan bitch who put him up to it.

_Dammit, Tucker! She might have tempted you into it, but you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker._

He pounded his fist into a nearby bulkhead, wincing when he remembered it was the hand he'd burned trying to shut down the cloaking device.

_Smart, Tucker…real smart_

He sucked at the injury when it began to bleed again, mumbling to himself disgustedly. What was it about that Vulcan that he found so damn alluring? Sure, she was drop dead gorgeous…but so was half the female crew, especially in those half-jumpsuits…

Trip grinned lopsidedly and leaned back against the wall, quickly thereafter shaking those thoughts from his head. Now wasn't the time. He had greater things to ponder…or was she a greater thing after all? She was just another alien babe aboard yet another starship. But why, after telling himself this so many times, did he have trouble believing it?

She intrigued him from the moment she'd sauntered into the ready room in a form fitting, but elegantly simple Vulcan dress. She had his attention from the first time she looked him up and down. As she had turned away to face the captain, he thought he had seen her eyebrow quirk upward ever so slightly with…interest? Whatever it was, he knew it wasn't leaving any time soon.

He liked to tease her, perhaps a little too much at times. He loved the way she became highly alert whenever he invaded her precious Vulcan space bubble, the way those pointed ears of her seemed to stand a little stiffer when he was near her.

For a slave, she was bold, but only around him it seemed. She complied with the captain's requests, so why didn't she comply with his? She seemed to like playing danger with Tucker. Bantering was one of her favorite activities. Even though she was contemptuous, it didn't bother Tucker like it would others…and she knew it.

He remembered the particular week before all hell broke loose. There was something visibly wrong with her. Her emotions were closer to the surface than before…it didn't take much for her to lash out or use her words a bit more forcefully, an act that screamed emotionality to any Vulcan. To the Humans? She was just being a bit more "normal". Tucker knew there was something wrong. He never saw her in the mess hall or at any other ships functions she often attended. He only saw her on duty. From what he understood, she spent the rest of the time in her quarters meditating. Her relationship (whatever you would classify it as) with him grew stiff and she was avoiding him every time possible.

On that particular day, they were working on repairs in engineering together.

"Y'know, you seem to be avoiding me lately." He growled at her.

With her back to him, she visibly stiffened. "I've been busy." She didn't even bother to face him, but continued to work, brushing off his statement.

"Now what could a _Vulcan_ possibly be doing that's so important that she forgets to eat?" Was he concerned for her? Nah. Charles Tucker didn't have a caring cell in his body. Perhaps he just felt jealous. Jealous was something he could do…couldn't be care…

"I'd rather not discuss the matter." Her stony voice replied. He was leaning against a console, watching her carefully bend over to pick up a hypo-spanner. Needless to say, the view was worth watching.

He sneered and sidled towards her. When she stood, he blocked her against the console, one arm on either side of her body. It was one of his favorite tricks when flirting with her. He noticed her complexion was greener than usual and there was a thin line of sweat on her brow.

"Commander, would you please—"

"What's so bad that you had to keep a secret from me?" He hissed into her ear. He watched her eyes flutter shut when his hot breath hit her sensitive ears. She tried to suppress something that sounded like a moan deep within her throat.

Tucker narrowed his eyes. Was she feeling what he thought she was feeling? He decided to play around with her to find out.

"Are you feelin' alright, T'Pol? You look kinda green…or is that normal?" His lips were scant inches from the shell of her ear. He watched as she visibly trembled. "Y'know, I don't like being neglected, darlin'…"

When his lips lightly brushed her ear, she completely lost it. Before Tucker knew it, she had him pinned against the nearest bulkhead. He yelped in surprise and pain when she bit him. Her fingers slid seductively from his shoulders to his chest, threatening to compromise his demeanor. Her head still rested in the crook of his neck. He could feel her hot, heavy breathing on the wet blood that now trickled onto the collar of his uniform. Dangerously, she hissed, "I claim you in the rite of Pon Farr…"

It had taken four crewmen to get him off of her. She was eventually subdued by Doctor Phlox, who showed up with a tranquilizing hypospray. Stunned, and greatly confused, he had followed Phlox and the gurney carrying the unconscious Vulcan to sickbay.

"It's the Vulcan mating drive," Phlox began to explain with a smirk. T'Pol had been taken, unconscious, to her quarters where she was confined after Phlox had finished his examination. "Every seven years, Vulcans are driven to mate or…" He plucked a beating heart out of a chameleon-like creature he was dissecting and chuckled triumphantly before finishing, "die."

Tucker shook his head in disbelief, grinning and chucking to himself. "So you're telling me that T'Pol's gonna die if she doesn't get laid?"

"Precisely. I'd rather not have her go insane and perish…or rather I should say the _captain _would rather not let her die. I think it might be beneficial…hmm…a hormonal interrogation drug that induces Pon Farr and…insanity, perhaps?" Phlox shook his head slowly. His mind tended to wonder to his favorite activities in the strangest times. "A shame, really. However, the captain seems to find her useful…"

"Are there any alternatives to mating?" Tucker asked, tapping his foot impatiently. Sometimes it took quite a bit to keep the doctor in the right state of mind.

"Well, she could always participate in a fight to the death. I doubt the captain would want to loose any necessary crewmembers…Some Vulcans have made it through the time with an intense meditation regimen, but the success rate is very low. I'm afraid the first…is her only option." Phlox raised his eyebrows suggestively at Tucker.

"Wait…you're not saying that I hafta—"

"Quite so, Commander. If I do recall your testimony correctly, she _did_ say that she claimed _you _in the rite of Pon Farr…"

"You mean she can just _claim_ me like some piece of property?" Tucker nearly shouted. He was outraged. He didn't like being controlled by anyone, particularly Vulcans.

"It is the Vulcan way, Commander. The drawing of blood seals the deal, I'm afraid. She will have no other. If she doesn't mate with you, she'll die."

Tucker sneered for a moment, crossing his arms defiantly. "Okay. I'll do it. Big deal…how hard can it be?"

"Harder than you think, Commander." Phlox said seriously, "And no pun intended." He turned back to carving up his lizard.

"If I can deal with holding an entire starship together by myself, I think I can handle a Vulcan bitch in heat." He barred his teeth defensively at the doctor. "Now, if you need me, you know where I'm headed." Without allowing the doctor to say anything else, he stormed out of sickbay and to the said Vulcan's quarters.

After hitting the entrance chime three times without reply, Tucker overrode the security code and stepped into T'Pol's quarters, letting the doors shut behind him. The room was dark and lit only by a few candles scattered about the room. One in particular was sitting on the desk with a distraught looking Vulcan sitting opposite, trying desperately to focus on its flickering flame. There were a few moments of silence before she noticed his presence. Her eyes regained focus slowly as she sniffed the air carnally. Detecting the presence she desperately required, she raised her head to look at him.

Tucker locked eyes with her, and was shocked at the extreme emotion and desire he saw reflected there. She was so completely un-Vulcan. She stood and began to saunter towards him, strands of hair hanging in her face and making her look wild, every move she made screaming seduction. He stood, entranced by her lithe movements. She never lost eye contact with him, as if it was vital to the process of sating her need.

She stopped a few inches in front of him, extending her hand towards him. Mirroring her actions, Tucker offered his forward. She began ritualistically caressing his hand with two outstretched fingers. Whenever she stopped, Tucker repeated her actions, not knowing, but somehow feeling it was what he was supposed to do. Slowly, her caresses progressed up his arms to reach his face. She cradled it in both hands, and began to kiss him passionately, slamming him up against the wall behind him. She pinned him there with her hips while her hands busied themselves with ripping off his uniform, neglecting the existence of any zippers or fasteners. She continued her merciless attack on his lips, wrapping a leg behind his, causing him to loose his balance and fall the ground. She landed atop him, the descent not slowing her down any. Tucker made quick work of her uniform, not wasting any time for foreplay for fear that she'd rip him to shreds in the process. She pinned his hands above his head, her grip sure to leave bruises. There was no doubt that she intended to be the aggressor in the act. For the first time, looking up into her smoldering eyes, Tucker felt apprehension, even fear, yet still anticipation. Whatever she did to him, he intended to enjoy himself, purposefully. He might as well take advantage of the situation at hand. As she positioned herself atop him, a fleeting thought crossed his mind…perhaps there was more to the Vulcan than met the eye…

Fin


End file.
