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Games

"…the tan line."

Trip overheard the statement once more as he moved through the line to gather his lunch. He'd caught snippets of conversations the last couple of days. While never quite hearing the entire exchanges, he assumed that since he and the Archer were the only ones sporting either a tan or sunburn at the moment – thanks to their experience on Toratha – it was a pretty good bet they were talking about him, the captain, or both.

He hadn't wanted to go down to the desert planet with Jon to start off and the results from that trip would take a long time to be forgotten. Once more the heat and sand had conspired to turn him into total jelly. If not for Jon, he was sure he wouldn't even be here now. He also knew that his friend felt guilty, because he'd pressured Trip to go. Archer had even made sure that Trip's first meal outside of sickbay had been prime rib, mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, and broccoli. And for dessert, Jon had asked Chef to make him his own pecan pie. Trip almost allowed that alone to make up for the experience. Almost.

Now, he was hearing a little of the fallout from that trip. It was embarrassing in a way…and strangely an ego boost as well—to think that the ladies on the ship appeared so…interested. He figured that the group of female crewmembers that had been in the exercise room the day after Jon and he had returned to the ship was the reason for this topic of conversation. It had been the only time they'd been out of uniform in front of any of the crew that he was aware of.

He was about to sit down when he heard Hoshi calling over the comm. Putting his tray on the table, he went to the closest module. "Tucker here."

"Sorry to delay your lunch, Commander, but you're needed in engineering again."

With a sigh Trip asked, "Did they say why?"

"Only that the injector balance is still off."

"Right." Trip looked back at his tray. Nothing he couldn't take with him. "Let them know I'm on my way."

ENTENTENT

T'Pol hit the buzzer by the door of the captain's ready room. "Come," she heard him respond before she opened the door to reveal Archer, his hand rubbing across his forehead as if he had a headache. Based on the format of the document on his computer screen, she surmised he was in the middle of reviewing a report.

She decided to get straight to the point. "You've been effectively cloistered in this room for the last two days, Captain. I was wondering if your experience on the planet with Commander Tucker is bothering you."

His grin crept upward to his crow's feet. Scratching the side of his face, he appeared amused at her statement although she couldn't fathom why. His words, though, confirmed her suspicion. "I can't say that I've put it all behind me, no."

"You choose to initiate a visit with a person you believed was a dignitary of a legal government. The fact that he…" She considered the vast array of human colloquialisms before choosing one, "…pulled one over on you was not fully your fault."

Archer shrugged. "Zobral was convincing and I can't say the visit was all bad. Geskana is a fun game. Wasn't real thrilled when the bombing started though." His forehead crinkled at that last. He was obviously concerned about the results of the enemy fire.

"Commander Tucker has made a full recovery."

"Physically, yeah. He's never going to willingly go into a desert again."

"You don't know that."

"You don't know Trip."

She acquiesced to his greater knowledge of the man. "In any case, the commander's angst with such environments is an issue he will need to address. You, on the other hand, do not need to dwell on it."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Archer's eyes widened. He appeared to be surprised at her perception.

She stood taller, certain she was on the right track. "It is yet another reason I believe shore leave would be good for you outside of the…other issue."

"Yeah. That," he responded with a shallow grimace, remembering the conversation when she'd brought up the suggestion of R&R for the crew – himself particularly. They were currently back on course to Risa. "I'm not sticking to my ready room because of Trip. Well not…exactly."

"Then what? Exactly?" Her timing of the words matched his precisely.

He bit his lip slightly as if considering whether he should go on with the conversation. "Let's just say I'm not comfortable with the grapevine at the moment."

"The grapevine?"

"Yeah. Scuttlebutt? Shipboard chitchat?"

"You are worried about what people are saying in non-official channels?" she interpreted as she unconsciously raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand."

"I think they're talking about me and Trip. Since we returned from the planet. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the current speculation as the ship's CO."

"I haven't heard anything."

"You probably wouldn't. Not about this. It's more…" His eyes suddenly darted away, his reactions nervous. If T'Pol could put a name to the emotion in his reaction, she'd choose embarrassed. "Well, I'm just not comfortable so I've been hoping it would just die down."

Definitely embarrassed. "Captain, would you like for me to inquire…"

"No!" His reaction was immediate and adamant. He took a breath and his expression softened. "It's ok, T'Pol. I have a lot of reports to read through anyway. Just let me handle this my way," he finished as if the matter had been settled.

She still wasn't sure what the matter was. "As you wish."

"Thanks. Was there anything else?"

"No. I'll leave you to your reports."

He nodded and turned back to the screen, a look of resignation on his face.

T'Pol walked out of the ready room. The captain had specifically told her not to inquire but that didn't mean she couldn't have a chat with the one person she knew wouldn't need to inquire. Hoshi was off duty today. She excused herself and went looking for the communications expert, hoping to find out exactly what was distressing Jonathan Archer.

ENTENTENT

It was 1800 hours when the two men arrived at the cargo bay that had been used for various Earth recreational pursuits. Basketball, volleyball, badminton and other area intensive sports had been played on its deck plates. Trip had once commented that Archer would have requested a pool if it wasn't completely impractical on a space faring vessel, at least at the current level of technology. Now the field of play for a new game was laid out on the floor.

"What's this," Archer queried, trying to figure out the various squares, circles, and lines laid out in a semi grid pattern.

"Denobulan Renwallen," T'Pol answered. "A pastime sport played by the women of Denobula."

"I'm not familiar with it."

"Crewman Cutler ran across a reference to it and asked Dr. Phlox about it. He told her the best way to explain it was to show her how it is played. The game has been a hit with the crew's females."

"Males can't play?" Archer asked.

"According to our resident Denobulan, it is traditionally played only by the women of his species. Crewman Cutler asked that the crew respect that."

"Good for them. Hess mentioned a new game but I didn't know what she was talking about." Trip supplemented. He looked over to Archer. 'You know anything about this?"

"News to me as well."

"That is probably because it began to be played while you were both down on the planet at your Geskana match," T'Pol explained.

"You bring us down to show us how it's played?" Trip asked walking over to examine the game field closer.

"No. I brought you down to address a misconception."

Archer's forehead creased in confusion. "Misconception? I don't follow you."

"The tan line. I spoke with Ensign Sato and…"

"You what?" the Captain sputtered, his embarrassment coming to the fore once more.

"…and I got to the bottom of the misconception."

"I told you I'd handle this myself," he said through gritted teeth. His blush took the edge off of the effect.

Trip looked between the two of them before addressing the Vulcan. "You noticed too, T'Pol? I didn't think Vulcan's would appreciate a tan line."

"Yes. Regarding that…if you had used more sun block, you would doubtless have avoided this misunderstanding altogether."

"Huh?" Trip's face bloomed with confusion.

"The subject of the grapevine. The tan line. It isn't referring to the difference in pigment color along the waistline of a human body.

"But that's what a tan line is," the Captain explained.

"That's what a tan line can be. It is not always." She moved to an area on the grid and pointed to a pale brownish, tawny color line. "A tan line. Reaching it is what ends the game."

"Tan li…" Archer started to chuckle. "They were talking about this game?"

"Yes."

"You're kidding. They weren't checking us out?" Trip asked.

T'Pol licked at her lips slightly before responding drily, "I believe the correct human response would be, 'In your dreams,' Commander."

That was all it took. Archer began to laugh uncontrollably, the reality of the situation presenting a release he sorely needed. His eyes were watering by the time Trip too joined in. Now that they understood the misconception, both found the humor in the situation. The three walked out of the cargo bay, the two human males much more relaxed than when they'd walked in.