Disclaimer: Paramount owns them if you recognize them.

Author's Notes: This story stands alone, but follows the version of how Trip and T'Pol get together that I put forth in "The Question of Suitability."

Trip groaned as soon as he saw the crowd gathered around his parents' driveway. "I think every reporter in the whole dang county's here, T'Pol!"

"We anticipated that the media would scrutinize our movements during our leave."

"Yeah, but I didn't think this many people'd show up. How're we s'posed to get to the door?"

"We will walk, just as we have planned." T'Pol, contrary to appearances, was no less unsettled than he was, which comforted Trip to a small degree. He paid the driver, tipping generously in the hope that it would ensure that he was as tactful and immune to the media as Starfleet claimed.

"Here goes, then." As the door opened, T'Pol reached out and lightly grasped his hand, which provided mutual comfort.

They hadn't even cleared the door when the photographers started taking pictures. Questions were shouted over and over and all the voices seemed to blend together. The reporters parted just enough to make a path to the Tucker's driveway, careful not to step on to their property (due to his father's forethought, they were well aware that no reporter was welcome on Tucker land). The couple walked by without a word, Trip smiling as he looked over at T'Pol, and she putting on a face much braver than she felt. Their touch strengthened the weak mental bond shared in the traditional Vulcan manner.

As agreed, they turned once they were on his parents' property. Trip spoke first. T'Pol had not wanted to speak at all, but he'd convinced her it was the best way to keep rumors from getting really out of hand. She had made an unfavorable comment about human media, but agreed.

"I just want everyone to know," he began, "that I'm proud to have T'Pol as my wife and bondmate, and that I love her with all my heart. Nothin' can change that."

He could feel her trepidation and encouraged her. She spoke without a tremor in her voice. "I am aware that many humans and Vulcans are unsettled by our union. Do not doubt our sincerity. We have not made a mistake."

She allowed herself to feel relief when Charles spoke again. "I'm askin' as a man an' a husband that ya'll give us privacy. We aren't all that different than you, an' we just wanna be able to relax while we're on leave. Thanks."

Questions rose again behind them, but they did not look back as they walked down the Tuckers' driveway towards the open door. "Why did you thank them for accosting us with questions and invading our privacy?"

"I was thankin' them in advance for leavin' us alone."

"You anticipate that we will not be bothered by the media again?"

"No, but it's just the way things're done."

She didn't get to answer because they'd reached the steps, and Trip was immediately pulled into a hug by his mother upon entering. Once she was done, his father hugged him.

"Mom, Dad, this is T'Pol."

The Tuckers looked distinctly uncomfortable, but to their credit were polite and attempted to welcome her in a manner that was fitting. "Trip tells us Vulcans don't like hugs or anythin' like that."

"He is correct. However, since you are family, we have determined that a handshake would not be inappropriate." She wanted her bondmate's parents to accept her, though the desire was not entirely logical. Thus she suffered the handshakes.

Lucy Tucker had made up her mind that she was going to try her hardest to get along with her daughter-in-law, no matter how little she understood the woman in front of her. Charlie had agreed, though he seemed to think that the details of this were better left to his wife.

"We've fixed up your old room with a queen-sized bed, Trip."

"Great!"

"T'Pol, we didn't really know what ya like for accommodations."

"I require little except space to arrange my meditation candles. Charles has told me much about your hospitality, so I have no doubt that your arrangements will be more than sufficient." After a moment's pause, she added, "Thank you for your concern."

"There's a lovely little candle store in town. They've been makin' candles for three generations, so the whole lot of 'em are experts. If ya like, I could take ya there." Lucy was not entirely sure if this was appropriate, but it seemed like a nice, friendly gesture.

"That would be agreeable. However, I do not wish to have another experience with the multitude of reporters congregated around your property."

"I'm friends with Annie. She'll open up for an hour or so on the weekend for us if I ask."

"I have never been in a store devoted entirely to the handmade production of candles."

"Really? Oh, it's beautiful!"

"Lucy, we should let the kids put their bags down," reminded Mr. Tucker. That was fortunate, because T'Pol did not know how to reply to her mother-in-law's latest remark.

"Of course! Trip?"

"Down this hall, darlin'."

Once they had moved the few possessions they brought into Trip's old room, T'Pol spoke for the first time. "'Kids?' I believe that I am older than your parents, and you are hardly a child."

"We'll always be kids ta them, T'Pol. Other than that, whatcha think of my folks?"

She considered his question for a moment, arranging her candles as she gathered her thoughts. "They appear slightly uncomfortable with my presence, but have welcomed me into their family and accepted me as their son's wife in a short amount of time. I anticipate that our leave here will be pleasant."

"You're never gonna give me short answers, are ya?"

"As Lieutenant Reed is fond of saying, do not hold your breath."

He laughed and brought his fingers up to initiate what he persisted in calling a "Vulcan kiss," though she had told him that was not the correct term. She found that his term, inaccurate though it was, did not bother her as much as she'd anticipated.

Of course there was pan-fried catfish for dinner, which thrilled Trip. There was also a fresh salad, homemade rolls, and green bean casserole. Trip regaled his parents with tales of Enterprise all through dinner. T'Pol observed the interactions of his family and attempted to find out where she fit in the dynamics. His parents did not try to engage her in constant conversation, which she appreciated. She didn't get very involved in the conversation until the pecan pie came out.

"Sue and Robbie really wanted to come," said Mr. Tucker, whose accent was considerably weaker than that of his wife or son. "They just didn't want to risk it; you know they've wanted another baby forever, and their daughter is due so soon."

"Ireland is awfully far away, if you're not gallavantin' out in space," added Mrs. Tucker.

"Well, Starfleet has ta give us leave once in a while, so we'll spend more time with 'em next leave. We're stopping by before we ship out, though. I intend ta see my new niece before I set foot on Enterprise again."

"I, too, would like to meet Charles' sister and her husband." T'Pol's remark was genuine, although she was not looking forward to another round with the media.

"I wish you coulda met Elizabeth, T'Pol. My youngest daughter was very spirited."

"Charles has shared many stories of her from their childhood, and I regret that I am unable to meet her. Please accept my condolences regarding her death."

"T'Pol was a real angel when I was holdin' all the pain in." Tears glistened in Trip's eyes. "If it weren't for her, I dunno what I woulda done."

"Then we owe you our thanks, T'Pol."

"You are welcome." She didn't know what else to say.

"What with spendin' time on Vulcan and Earth when you're on leave, we're not gonna see ya nearly enough," sighed Mrs. Tucker.

Trip stopped with a piece of pie halfway between his plate and his mouth. "Uh, we're not gonna be goin' ta Vulcan."

"Why not? Surely T'Pol's family will want to see you."

"We are not welcome on Vulcan, Mrs. Tucker."

"What?"

"While my family has refrained from officially disowning me, they have made it clear that I am not welcome, and neither is my bondmate."

"Your parents are gonna cut off their own daughter just because she married a human? That's insane!"

"It is their choice to make. I have accepted the consequences of my actions, and though I would like to return to Vulcan, I do not regret the choices I have made."

"Well, you're always welcome here."

"Thank you."

"Have you thought about where you're gonna live, once you settle down?"

"Not on Vulcan," said Trip, spearing his pie.

"We have considered it, although we have not yet reached a conclusion." She took a morsel of pie. Pecan pie being very sweet, T'Pol ate only small pieces of it.

"Well, like she said, you're always welcome here," echoed Mr. Tucker.

"There are no catfish on Vulcan. I doubt that Charles would be happy." The three humans smiled, and T'Pol concluded that her bondmate's parents were pleasant people. Thus dinner ended, with all four Tuckers more at ease with the addition of T'Pol to the family.