So after "Seleya"...I'll just leave you to guess the setting I've mangled mercilessly to fit here. - Mary
(Well, okay, since Rigil Kent already guessed before I even got the second chapter up...we're setting this in the universe of the "Supernatural" TV series. As in Sam and Dean Winchester "Supernatural". Mashing that right on top of ST:ENT, of course.)
Panama City, Florida
August 20, 2121
The public bus hissed to a halt at the intersection of Marissa Lane, letting off its only passenger for that stop.
The young Vulcan that stepped down onto the street would appear no more than fifteen to any Human observer, but she'd reached adulthood well over a decade ago. Her relative apparent age…relative to Humans at least…had slowed when she'd reached adulthood, something that continued to cause some measure of difficulty in adjusting to life on Earth. And she looked quite young for her age even by Vulcan standards, which only made matters all the worse.
Any Vulcan her age would have otherwise at least appeared to be perhaps twenty years old, according to Human perceptions. That would have made things much easier for her.
Legally, in accordance with Earth standards, she was thirty-three years old, and there were a variety of things forbidden to fifteen year olds by both North American and local Florida state law that a thirty-three year old could expect to take for granted.
Such as owning and operating a powered vehicle. She certainly possessed the legal right to do so and she was even very skilled at it, but an apparent fifteen year old operating a powered vehicle without supervision of some sort attracted the attention of local traffic officers, and they tended to be hyper-critical in such instances.
So she rode the bus, because it did not require her to pull over on a regular basis to produce a driver's permit, proof of insurance and vehicle ownership and, most egregiously, suffer questions, posed by strangers in a position of authority, regarding her age. As well as the accompanying tedious exposition concerning how remarkable it was that she looked so young.
She rode the bus instead of that.
And she got off the bus on Marissa Lane, even if that meant walking the equivalent of two city blocks every day to and from Millstone Trail. And another equivalent block to reach 1411, the second house on the left at the far western side of the subdivision.
Despite that requiring a total of nearly twenty minutes a day spent walking unnecessarily both ways. It was simply, and ironically, less tedious than driving.
She arrived, the satchel on her shoulder lightly weighed down with various study materials. Mostly two personal PetPADDs and one college issued study PADD, all containing far more detailed information and resources than most of her fellow student's bothered to avail themselves of.
She took her studies quite seriously. They were one of only three things in her life that, in her opinion, constituted her life. Nothing else was considered especially relevant.
Her studies, her Vulcan disciplines and the Tucker family. That was her life and she was quite satisfied with that.
Judging from the presence of the large, rugged all-terrain vehicle in the driveway, both Elaine and Charles Senior were home, so she didn't pause before entering the home. She would otherwise have availed herself of the electronic passkey and security code to bypass the alarm system, as the couple were away as often as not. Much less so since the birth of Charles the Third, but nevertheless often enough.
She'd had the house to herself for the last six days, with the exception of the infant Charles, so she was relieved they had returned. Tending to the child was gratifying enough, on most occasions, but it did detract somewhat from both her studies and her disciplines, and she had already decided to address certain matters with the couple when they returned from their most recent 'business trip'.
Elaine Tucker's apparent dedication to her career had prompted her to take to the road again with her husband after only four months of giving birth to the child…and that had been remarkable. Remarkable enough at least that it began to raise certain questions in the young Vulcan's mind. Questions she had not been prepared to evaluate too deeply until then. But having finally done so, she evaluated those questions quite logically and extensively.
And what she discovered disturbed her.
It required, in fact, a particular response. One that would likely prove uncomfortable and most certainly confrontational.
So she entered the home, closing the door carefully behind her, and left her satchel on the table by the door, as she normally did.
She greeted the Tuckers in the kitchen, where they were busy preparing the evening meal and chatting comfortably with one another.
She went to make her routine initial evaluation of the infant Charles the Third, verifying that the babysitting neighbor, an actual teenager, had cared for him adequately in her absence and that all his needs were currently met.
She relocated her satchel to her room, laid out her materials for study later, meditated for one hour and quietly left the house to pick the lock on the rear door of the all-terrain vehicle. Searching until she found again the hidden panel in the rear floorboard, in the cargo area, activating it and retrieving the leather-bound bundle from there.
Bringing that just as quietly into the house again, she stowed it temporarily in the supply closet in the hall, then joined the Tuckers for supper at the dinner table.
She ate quietly and she did not engage in conversation at the dinner table until prompted to do so. She was Vulcan and that was proper Vulcan behavior.
"So, T'Pol." Charles said, providing the expected dinner conversation. "Anything interesting while we were away?"
Elaine broke in quickly, before she could answer.
"Mm." She said, swallowing quickly so that she could do so. "I know we were gone a little longer than expected. I hope that didn't cause you any problems."
T'Pol put her fork down on her plate. While it was proper to engage in conversation now, she would not do so while eating.
"It caused no problems." She assured, "Nor did anything of particular interest occur while you were away. I believe Bella may have entertained a male suitor during my final astrophysics class, but I remain uncertain, so I took the liberty of reminding her that was not acceptable while she was being employed exclusively to care for Charles the Third. Additionally, I have managed to achieve a 4.0 GPA again, having altered my study regimen to focus more on xenobiology."
Charles looked surprised and pleased at that.
"Well, that's great!" He smiled. "Now, see, I knew you'd pull that back up in no time."
"Indeed, it was a simple matter of redistributing my attention to individual areas of study in light of the new class schedule."
"I'll have a little talk with Bella." Elaine said, reaching for her glass of wine. "Anything new on your thesis?"
"I remain undecided." T'Pol admitted. "But I am leaning more toward an examination of the development of the warp two engine and the environment under which it was developed, comparing that with the historical Vulcan equivalent. The fact that something of this nature seems largely expected of me by the instructors being no small part in that decision."
"Not the micro-singularity thing?" Charles asked, frowning. "I thought you were real excited about that one."
"I would not characterize my interest as excitement." T'Pol corrected. "And it is logical to concede somewhat to the expectations of the instructors as it is their grade, and thus their approval, that is required."
"Your work should speak for itself." Elaine said, clearly disagreeing with that. "But I'm sure you'll knock their socks off with whatever you submit."
"I sincerely hope that I do not provoke that measure of emotional response, Mrs. Tucker."
The Tuckers chuckled, as expected, and that was gratifying enough.
"As for your delay in returning," T'Pol said, once the mild hysteria subsided. "Six days to travel to Texas and back is actually somewhat impressive. I would imagine you had only two days at most to conduct your business there, after taking time to rest and recover from the drive."
"Well, it turned out to be a bust." Charles said, dismissively. "Worth a shot but…you don't always find what you're looking for."
"I would have assumed you failed to reach a sale agreement due to the fact that you forgot the paperwork on the boat."
Charles blinked. "What? What do you mean?"
Elaine, however, stiffened noticeably.
"The bill of sale and the associated documentation." T'Pol explained. "I was unable to find a pacifier to satisfy Charles the Third's unrest two days ago, so I sought one in your study. You typically keep two there, in the top drawer. I noticed you left the documents…"
"It was just a pitch meeting, T'Pol." Elaine shrugged, smiling. "We didn't really expect to make the sale there."
"I see." T'Pol nodded. "And I'm sure you are aware the marine inspection stamp on the vessel is out of date, so no legal sale could have been made at this point anyway."
"Uh…right." Charles nodded. "Just a pitch. And like I said, it was worth a shot."
T'Pol said nothing further, picking up her fork to continue the meal.
While the Tuckers remained quiet, clearly uncomfortable now. Elaine sipped her wine, sharing a meaningful look with Charles.
Which T'Pol did not fail to notice.
Charles cleared his throat. "So, T'Pol…we've been meaning to talk to you about something."
T'Pol calmly put her fork down again, folding her hands comfortably in her lap to listen patiently.
Seeing that, Charles dove right in.
"We were talking on the road and we're a little concerned." Charles said. "You've been with us for a few years now and you've been a great help. The extra income renting the room hasn't hurt, but more than that you've always been trustworthy and reliable. That's hard to find, T'Pol, and you don't pass up on that when you find it."
"It has been a rewarding experience for me as well, Mr. Tucker." T'Pol acknowledged. "Not only gratifying in offering whatever help I can, I owe you both a great deal after all, but caring for Charles the Third has been especially rewarding."
Charles smirked a bit.
"Well, that almost sounds like an emotional indulgence, T'Pol."
T'Pol immediately specified her meaning.
"Rewarding in the sense that it has been helpful in preparing for the day when I have children of my own."
"Yeah, and we kinda feel like we might have taken advantage of that." Charles frowned.
"In what way?"
"Well, we know you've been with us long enough to consider us more than just associates."
At T'Pol's sudden tension, he rushed to explain.
"Now, I know that's a little impolite to point out, but it's important." He said. "Logical, I guess you'd say. And…well, we're worried you might feel like you have to stick around now that Trip's here. Maybe…you had plans to move off-campus somewhere and now you feel like you can't because we need you…"
"That is not the case, Mr. Tucker."
"I just want to be clear here, T'Pol." He insisted. "We love having you. Wouldn't trade it for the world. Hell, you've been a part of the family for a long time now. You are family. But we don't want to hold you back. In fact, that's why we don't want to hold you back."
T'Pol considered that for a moment.
"I see." She said, quietly.
Elaine jumped in then, seeing the sense of rejection she'd feared T'Pol would suffer here.
"T'Pol, please don't misunderstand." She said. "We really do love having you here and you really have been a huge help…and we really don't want to hold you back. Maybe it's not a comfortable thing for you to hear us say but…we love you. You're family and you have been for a long time. We don't want you to leave, but you're Vulcan. You're comfortable here, you're needed here and it's logical for you to be here…so you're reluctant to move on."
"She's right." Charles said, seriously. "We don't want you leave. Hell, we need you now more than ever, but we can't be selfish either. So, we're not asking you to leave or even encouraging you to. God, I'm hoping you don't. But we have to be realistic and we have to be honest. If you take a good look at where you need to be right now and you find that this ain't it…well, then we care enough about you that we want you to do what's best for you. Not for us, T'Pol."
Elaine took a moment to watch her, to be sure she understood what they were saying. Then took another stab at making it perfectly clear.
"T'Pol, we love you and we want you here." She said, earnestly. "We do need you, especially now, with Trip. But because we love you we have to accept that you have to do the logical thing. So, whatever that is, we'll be happy with it. Just…take a good look and be sure this is where you need to be right now. That you aren't just staying with us because we need you."
T'Pol thought it over. Then spoke.
"I will consider it." She said. "I will inform you of my decision later tonight."
"Well, don't rush into anything." Charles said, hastily. "Take your time with it…"
"I do not expect I will require longer than two hours to reach a decision."
Charles didn't look especially happy with that. Elaine looked worried as well.
But they didn't say anything more, they just returned their attention to the meal and ate uncomfortably.
T'Pol waited until the majority of the concern and uncertainty had passed, then politely excused herself from the table, having finished eating already. She took her plate, glass and eating utensils into the kitchen to wash them and put them away.
She checked on Charles the Third and found him sleeping comfortably in his crib.
And she caressed his scalp tenderly for a moment, in case that might be the last opportunity for her to do so.
Then went to the supply closet in the hall and retrieved the bundle, bringing it with her into the kitchen where Elaine and Charles Tucker were already cleaning their own dishes.
Pausing in the hallway to listen for a moment before entering, because they were discussing her.
"We could have handled that better." Elaine worried. "That sounded for all the world like we wanted her to leave."
"Well, we do, don't we?" Charles said. "That's what this is all about, isn't it?"
"Not like that. Not like we don't care about her or like she doesn't have a place here, Charles…"
"I know that, but it's getting dangerous out there, darlin'."
"And it's just a matter of time before it follows us home, I know. But what about Trip?"
"We're just…gonna have to work something out. We don't have any right to risk getting T'Pol involved in…"
"Then we have to take some time off." Elaine insisted. "I know you don't want to hear that…"
"I'd like nothing better, Elaine, but how are we gonna do that? We've got a few fires to put out, you know. Stirred up a few hornet nests."
"Let the other hunters handle that. We're not the only two in the whole galaxy, Charles."
T'Pol stepped forward then, entering the kitchen with the bundle in hand.
Charles was shaking his head, looking over at Elaine standing beside him at the sink, where they had long since stopped washing dishes to have this discussion.
"Well, you wanna talk about trouble following us home…" He said.
Then he spotted T'Pol out of the corner of his eye, so he didn't finish that sentence. He didn't notice what she was carrying at first, though.
"How's my boy?" He grinned, in the obvious attempt to distract from anything she might have overheard.
"Charles the Third is sleeping." T'Pol said, placing the bundle on the counter near the oven, directly opposite the two.
Behind them, in front of her, where neither would see what she was doing until she turned away again.
"I believe he will likely sleep through the night." She added, as she unfastened the bundle and began rolling it out on the counter. "I have activated the baby monitor as well, in preparation for that."
"Good." Charles nodded, turning around to lean against the sink. "Any chance you're ever going to call him 'Trip', though?"
"That is not his name, Mr. Tucker." T'Pol pointed out, as she continued to work.
"And 'Mr. Tucker' ain't my name neither."
"An arguable point, but irrelevant." She said, having rolled the bundle out fully to reveal the assortment of deadly weaponry it contained.
"Mr. Tucker," She said. "And Mrs. Tucker as well, these designations convey the proper respect."
T'Pol considered the weapons laid out before her as both the Tuckers chuckled a bit behind her. Elaine, from the sound of things, returning to washing dishes, while Charles watched her. Just now beginning to be curious what she was doing over there.
T'Pol chose the long knife from the bundle. The Vulcan knife, with the ancient, mystic symbols etched into the blade. Symbols long since forgotten even by most of her own people.
She understood their significance herself though, having researched the matter thoroughly two days ago.
Having taken the blade in hand, she turned to face Charles. Stepping aside in the process so that he could see what she'd been working with while they talked.
He froze immediately.
Taking in the pile of blades, ballistic weapons and unusual energy armaments at a glance. And turning only his eyes to meet hers at last…after giving the very intimidating knife in her hand the respect that it was due.
He paused, but not for very long.
"Well." He said, grimly. "Can't no one ever say you ain't got guts."
Elaine turned curiously at that statement.
And she dropped the plate she was washing back into the sink at the sight. Staring in shock, while Charles just frowned severely and intently beside her.