Author's Note: This story is right after Silent Enemy in Season 1-it's part of a Trip/T'Pol romance series that looks at their developing relationship from Season 1 onwards as they go on shore leave. It's totally AU in the sense that it adheres to the basic characterization of the series but I have placed shore leave wherever I wanted it to be to make this story work. I'm not sure how many parts the series will be. All characters belong to Paramount and not infringement it meant. I make no money from this writing. Please read and review!
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Trip Tucker rushed through Union Square anxious to get to the shop before it closed. He was due to leave and visit his parents this evening and he needed to get to the Eastern European bakeshop before the damn placed closed at 4pm unlike every other business in San Francisco. But they made these cookies that his mother loved that looked like little peaches and he always tried to bring them when he visited.
He was practically running past a café when he saw a familiar pair of ears sitting at a table.
"T'Pol?" He asked.
The Sub-Commander turned to face him, surprised by the sight of him.
"Commander?" T'Pol asked, trying to compose herself.
Trip looked at her then looked towards the bake shop before checking his watch. It was 3:56.
"I'll be right back," Trip said before he sprinted towards a group of shops.
T'Pol thought he was a strange human being already, and now his behaviour seemed extra odd.
Six minutes later, he returned to her out of breath and carrying a box from a bake shop.
"Sorry about that," he said as he pulled up a chair at her table and placed the box down. "But my mama would kill me if I visited without her favorite cookies."
"You're going to visit your parents?" T'Pol asked, slightly bothered by his assumption they would be sitting together.
Trip raised his hand to call the waiter over.
"I'll have an espresso and do you have any cannoli's?" Trip asked the waiter when he appeared.
"Yes, we have Sicilian and…"
"I'll take one…no make that two, Sicilian cannoli's," Trip said with a smile. "You need to try one."
"Commander, I don't need to try…"
"Oh yes, you do," Trip smiled at her as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
T'Pol furrowed her brows at him; he was being awfully presumptuous sitting with her, ordering food and drink, and even ordering for her.
"You haven't answered my question," T'Pol noted.
"Oh, my parents?" Trip asked as he casually crossed his ankle over his opposite knee. "Yeah, I leave to see them tonight but the Mali Bakeshop is only open until four so I had to be quick. Been stuck in meetings all day and barely made it here in time."
"Their business closes early," T'Pol noted before she reached for her tea.
"Mom and Pop operation, the couple that owns it is almost a hundred years old, but my mama likes these little peach cookies they make," Trip explained as he gestured toward the box. "I guess they figure they'll close when they feel like it."
T'Pol nodded and said nothing.
"What are you doing outside the Vulcan Compound?" Trip asked her.
"I…" suddenly T'Pol stopped. Her reason was not logical; she had found the Compound to be oppressive and needed to get away from it.
Trip narrowed his eyes at her and said nothing.
"I decided to go for a walk and get some exercise," T'Pol said. "This café had refreshments."
"It's a nice café," Trip said as he looked around. "Have you been here before?"
"No," T'Pol said as she looked toward the table. "I just came upon it."
Trip folded his arms across his chest and looked up at the sun.
"Ahh, that feels nice on the skin," Trip smiled.
"Do you have a protectant spray on? With your fair colouring…"
"Yes, I'm wearing sunblock, mom," Trip joked.
"Why would you call me that?" T'Pol asked, affronted.
"It was a…"
"Your espresso," the waiter said interrupting him as he placed the small cup and a plate with two pastries down between them.
"Thank you," Trip said before the waiter left. He reached for his drink and took a small sip before she saw contentment pass across his features.
"Why would you call me mother?" T'Pol insisted.
"It was a joke, come on, T'Pol, you know I don't think of you as my mother," Trip sighed.
"Are you going to tell your mother about the child you carried?" T'Pol asked him, trying to get the topic away from her age; it had been an obsession of his, it seemed.
"Uh, that's not really my choice at this point," Trip stammered. "It's been on the news."
"I forgot," T'Pol noted.
"After the fifteenth scientist interviewed me, it's kinda hard to forget," Trip mumbled.
"Your psychosis in the caves?" T'Pol inquired.
"I'd rather not worry my mother even more," Trip shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You talk to your parents about P'Jem?"
Then it was T'Pol's turn to shift uncomfortably.
"As you are aware, it was also in the news," T'Pol said, clearing her throat.
Trip immediately felt sorry for the question; he was just trying to get the spotlight off himself. They both sat silently for a moment and then Trip noticed the cannolis.
"Now, you have to try this," Trip said as he picked up a cannoli and took a bite, trying to change the subject.
"There are no utensils," T'Pol said as she looked toward the other table to ascertain it there were any nearby.
"I know you are not fond of eating with your hands," Trip said. "But a cannoli is eaten with your hands."
"Humans have a great affinity for eating many things with their hands," T'Pol said, eyeing the cannoli with disdain.
"Just pick it up," Trip said, leaning in to whisper to her. "I won't tell anyone."
T'Pol shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn't like the challenge or the conspiratorial tone of his voice.
"T'Pol, you're on Earth, not in the Vulcan consulate," Trip said as he pushed the plate toward her another inch. "This is a delicious dessert and we eat it with our hands."
T'Pol tentatively reached for the dessert and delicately picked it up with two fingers. She watched the smile play across his lips at the sight. She brought the dessert to her mouth and took a tentative bite. The icing sugar spilled slightly onto her chest and she allowed the cream filling to sit on her tongue before she began chewing.
"Like it?" Trip asked with a grin, taking a bite of his own.
She did. The play of crunchiness, the soft cheesy filling and the sugar sweetness was a nice combination. She didn't like the mess it created on her fingers or her person, but it was a compromise, she supposed, for the dessert.
"It is acceptable," T'Pol nodded before she placed it back down on the plate. She wanted to eat the rest, but that was illogical. She only needed to taste it, not devour it.
"Acceptable?!" Trip snapped with his mouthful of the dessert. A piece of the casing dropped onto his lap.
"Please desist from talking with your mouth full of food," T'Pol said annoyed.
Trip chewed and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
"Acceptable?!" Trip asked, annoyed, he reached for a napkin to wipe his mouth.
"It is an acceptable dessert that is, I would estimate, 150 calories and about 8 grams of fat," T'Pol said as she pushed the plate away slightly.
"You're not going to eat the rest?" Trip asked, surprised. "Afraid you won't fit into your Vulcan uniform?"
T'Pol stared blankly at him.
"Well, I'm not letting that go to waste," Trip said as he reached for the cannoli and bit into it.
T'Pol looked away. The idea of sharing food was still repugnant to her.
"What are you doing for the remainder of your leave?" Trip asked her as he finished off her cannoli.
"I am working on a project with Dr. Moul back at the Vulcan compound," T'Pol explained.
"Sounds like a great vacation," Trip mumbled.
"He and I have similar ideas about bio-toxins and their effect…"
"You've mentioned him before," Trip said as he eyed her carefully as he finished his espresso. "He your new boyfriend?"
"I'm sorry?" T'Pol asked.
"You have spoken about him a few times, you spend your vacation with him, you're no longer betrothed to that guy back on Vulcan…"
"I have no romantic relationship with Dr. Moul," T'Pol said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "We are merely colleagues. As you and I are."
"You don't spend your vacations with me," Trip said as he waggled his eyebrows at her before he called the waiter over for the cheque.
"No, I do not," T'Pol agreed.
Trip reached for the bill as it was placed on the table and T'Pol did as well, their hands touched and she pulled back as if scorched. The electric shock of him stunned her.
"A gentleman always pays," Trip reminded her. "It's my treat."
T'Pol thought that the answer he supplied was ridiculous. He had merely planted himself at her table, ordered food and drink and had forced her to try a dessert. There was nothing planned about the encounter, nor was it questionable under the fraternization policy.
"Commander, I can pay for my own…" T'Pol started.
"No, I've got it," Trip said as he placed money in with the cheque and stood to hand it to their waiter.
"Then allow me to reimburse you for…" T'Pol said as she reached for her wallet.
"T'Pol," Trip said as he reached for his box of cookies. "My treat means just that. My. Treat."
"Fine," T'Pol resigned herself to his overture. "Thank you, Commander."
"You're welcome," Trip said with a slight bow. "Sorry I can't stay and chat, but I've got a shuttle to catch."
"Enjoy your stay with your parents," T'Pol bowed her head to him as well.
They parted and walked in opposite directions to spend the next two weeks apart.