Chapter 5: The Long Way Home

Morro Jable, Fuerteventura, March 10th 2158

"Navgation: Coffee Table, North face."

Following Hoshi's command the wheel chair set in motion and delivered Trip to the ordered position, giving him time to memorize the movements of the craft until he arrived at the small table in the living room. Once there she put his fingers on the correct location on the wooden over-head model of the apartment, giving him time to explore the miniature surroundings to put the location in the right context in his mental image of their new home.

She could see that he was exhausted and, even if he wasn't showing it, he was also frustrated.

He had been home for almost two months now and for all it was worth, his progress in accepting his new circumstances was nothing short of amazing. T'Pol's theory that, as an engineer, he had fairly sharp tactile senses to begin with had proven true and learning to imagine his surroundings by feeling them was one of the easier parts of his learning curve. The same was true for his memory. For someone used to memorizing intermix ratios, plasma flow rates and a whole host of other numbers and specifications, remembering where the couch was and which way it was facing, had been no major problem.

She didn't know when it had happened, but somehow she had ended up being his personal trainer. T'Pol, having used up all her back-logged shore leave had taken her new post as an instructor at the academy. Starfleet would have preferred that she returns to her ship, as captains were on short supply, but she had let them know in no uncertain terms that Starfleet had but one choice. Giving her a posting that allowed her to return home every day or take delivery of her resignation. Since that wasn't really a choice at all, Starfleet had done the sensible thing and chose option one.

Malcolm, well he was a problem all of his own, and she had to fight the urge to sigh. He had tried to make good on his promise to involve himself more in Trip's rehabilitation and had spent more time with them. Unfortunately, for all the progress Trip had made by now, the first two weeks had been disastrous. His movements had been unsteady, as his muscles were unused to any refined movement after eight months of immobility. Glasses were swept off the table, objects dropped more often than not, to Trip's massive frustration. Unable to cope seeing Trip completely helpless, Malcolm had fled back to the sanctity of his office in the factory.

She couldn't even fault him for that. She had been a hair's width from running out of the house in despair on more than one occasion herself. T'Pol was devastated, but not showing it. The only one, who seemingly had accepted the situation as it was, was Trip himself. He was frustrated when things didn't progress as fast as he would have liked, but that was the only sign of him struggling with the new life fate had had thrown him into. Patiently he went through his daily training, even making the occasional joke. His bluntness was still there, but even though Phlox had said he would not see it as a 'new' facet of his personality, he seemed to have noticed that they were affected by his forthright speech. Even though he was still prone to deliver verbal blows, he had started making a conscious effort to soften those blows if he could catch himself in time.

While she helped an exhausted Trip hoist himself out of the wheel chair and onto the couch, she considered her options of keeping this four-way relationship from imploding. For all their apprehension of how Trip would react to the not exactly foreseeable inter-personal developments between herself, T'Pol and Malcolm, it turned out that he had been not only the one to be aware of it first, he was probably most accepting of them all. Just like he had accepted his disability, he had taken the new dynamic between them as if it was the most normal development in the world.

Putting the blanket over him, she left him to his afternoon nap with a kiss. A fleeting smile appeared on her face when she remembered those first two weeks at home with him. The breakfast had become somewhat of a 'Waltons' style routine with everyone exchanging a good-morning kiss with everyone else, except Trip and Malcolm. For all of Trip's bluster and Malcolm's secret confessions, there wasn't the same level of intimacy between them that had developed between her and T'Pol.

They were what they had been before - best friends, perhaps with the added layer that they both knew their respective wives loved both of them, but there was no real sexual attraction, which was certainly also influenced by Trip's condition. It always came back to that blasted topic of having sex, why couldn't they just do it and return to concentrate on the really important things in life, like doing all they could to heal Trip?

All the less did she understand why the big white Elephant was still in the room. Each of them had accepted the three others as an integral part of their life, yet when it came to that last step, everyone but Trip seemed to shy away from it and as a result there was not only a constant unresolved tension in the air, the damned topic also took up a lot more time and thought than it should.

She had even considered getting them all together and ordering a blasted orgy, just so that the damn topic would be off the table. So far everyone had stuck to his 'regular' partner and that by far not in a frequency that anyone would call normal. Yes, they were in their twenties and thirties – well, T'Pol in the Vulcan equivalent – so the times of hormone driven perpetual horniness was in the past for all of them, but once a month might be normal for Granny and Granddad, but not for young people, who used to have a normal intimate life.

The most difficult part in that particular equation was T'Pol. For all his limitations, Trip certainly seemed to have lost nothing of his gentle technique, if the very vocal orgasms of the Vulcan were anything to go by. She had heard that from a whole floor above, but in her stubborn denial T'Pol refused to believe that Trip was getting anything out of it unless he could stick his meat somewhere into her. That she not only tormented herself for nothing, but also hurt Trip, completely eluded T'Pol's understanding and Hoshi definitely needed a plan to make her understand that he was a fully adequate intimate partner, who did indeed enjoy it, too. If necessary she would be the test subject herself. If nothing else, everybody was paying lip-service to how okay they would be if she took him to bed – it was time to replace words with actions.

She would no longer be sitting idle watching their wonderful relationship sour over something as mundane as sleeping with each other.

"I hope everything is according to your specifications, Doctor?" Malcolm asked, walking into the newly built clinic of his expanding factory. Since they were now employing over five thousand workers, the law mandated a fully equipped doctor's surgery with the appropriate staff, except that his clinic featured a full-fledged laboratory full of equipment to give Phlox every resource available for his research into helping Trip.

"Where have you procured this?" Phlox asked pointing at a Tarkellian microscanner.

"I have my contacts, Doctor," Malcolm answered evasively. "Do you think you have what you need to start your research?"

"You certainly weren't miserly on the equipment, Mr. Reed. I believe we can start scheduling regular appointments with Mr. Tucker, perhaps two times a week. The treatment will be very taxing and we do not need to inflict unnecessary discomfort."

"I'll let Hoshi and T'Pol know," Malcolm said and quickly turned to go when the doctor heaved a breath, no doubt to lecture him about his absence from home. He didn't have the power to endure that right now. The factory expansion was a twenty hour job and production was expected to begin in little over a week. As much as he missed all of them, he couldn't quite deal with his job and Trip's plight at the same time. Even a former operative in the section was only human, and a messed up one at that.

Hoshi was looking at the clock. Since T'Pol was punctual in an almost robotic fashion, she would be here in exactly seven minutes. Trip, well rested from his afternoon nap, had commandeered the kitchen counter, diligently practicing Braille using a learning program she had created for him. After all, she had all the time in the world at the moment.

But now was the time to put her plan into action. Someone had to do the first step and if it was her, so be it. She had enough of the dancing around each other.

"Trip, would you help me with something?"

"Sure, where are you, darlin'? The coffee table?" he asked back, stopping the learning program.

"North face," she confirmed, feeling happy that he had determined her position just by hearing her voice and the memory of a room layout he had never seen with his eyes. It was unbelievable, how quick he was adapting to his circumstances.

He instructed his wheelchair to deliver him right there with an offset of one meter and she turned to face him when his vehicle stopped next to her.

"Phlox has prescribed me breast massages and I ... um ... wondered if you would give me one?" she explained somewhat apprehensively, not telling him what kind of therapy that massage was a part of. T'Pol had given her the 'gift' in private.

He smiled.

"Tell me what to do darlin'. Just knead them?"

"No, linear strokes from the base towards the nipple," Hoshi explained and took his hands. She put his fingers around her right breast, spread them around the circumference and slid them along the slope of the tissue towards the pointed end.

"Hoshi, am I imagining things or are your boobs a little bigger than I remember them?"

Elated that at least someone noticed, she squealed in delight and planted a hot kiss on his mouth. Soon they were engaged in a desperate tongue-wresting match. They broke the kiss, heavily breathing.

"Navigation: Bedroom, right side, center," he ordered and the wheelchair set in motion. Hoshi followed him and on the way hopped out of her panties – the only thing she wore anyway.

"Lay down on your back, darlin'"

She did so, her body trembling in excitement.

"You okay if I just look at you a bit?" she heard him ask.

She closed her eyes, awaiting his touch.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to do that." she said in a husky voice. "Please look at me, Trip."

Her breathing got ragged when he gently ran his fingers all over her face, her neck and shoulders. His movements were slow, gentle and he didn't miss an inch.

"You're so beautiful Hoshi."

"I've not heard that nearly often enough," she whimpered as he started to circle his fingers around her erect nipples. His fingers ran along her arm and she gasped slightly, when he lifted her hand and caressed every of her digits with his lips.

Slowly his roaming hands ran down her body, shortly interrupted by Trip adjusting the position of his wheel chair. Her senses swam as his gentle fingertips explored every inch of her body. When his searching digits reached her pubic area, she spread her slender leg to give him better access, lost in the unspeakable pleasure of his gentle caress. She clawed the bed sheets, gasping for air as he ran his finger down the length of her labia and then outward along her upper thighs.

Gently he pushed two fingers into her drenched opening and used his thumb to circle her nub of pleasure. She bucked her hips in a desperate bid to get more of his touch.

"God, please, make me cum Trip, make me cum, sweetheart, please," she begged helplessly, crying out as his gentle ministration pushed her over the edge. She arched her back and with a low grunt her body started to shiver as the long-denied climax finally took possession of her body and mind.

When Hoshi came to her senses after the most intense orgasm she had experienced in a ridiculously long while, she noticed that instead of continuing to 'look' at her, Trip had started to administer the breast massage she had asked for in the first place.

"Bit more pressure sweetheart," she instructed with a loving smile that he could sadly not see. "It's supposed to stimulate tissue growth, not making me horny again."

"How long has it been for you darlin'?" he asked softly, continuing to massage the soft tissue methodically.

"Too long," she replied and failed to hide the giggle, when she noticed that T'Pol was standing in the middle of the bedroom, clutching a package. She had seen most of their encounter, just as she had planned. Now it was a matter of waiting if T'Pol's words of acceptance had been empty or true.

"One hour, Limey. And I hope you still know how to make sure that your personal PADD doesn't show any additional content when you walk out."

"Thanks, Falks. I owe you big time," Malcolm replied and shook the hand of his former drill sergeant before walking into the interrogation room. Arik Soong was already sitting at the table with his hands unshackled. Malcolm tilted his head to signal the guard that his presence was no longer needed.

"What do you make of this case?" he asked gruffly and slid the PADD over to Soong.

"T'Pol, why don't you join us?" he asked.

Listening to his surroundings, he noticed that she came to stand next to him. Her ragged breathing was hard to miss. Seeing him finger Hoshi to an explosive orgasm had clearly aroused her.

"Have you collected the package?"

"Yes, ashayam. I am carrying it. How did you know I was here?"

"Put the package aside for the moment and sit down for a moment, will you?"