In Confusing Abundance

Author's note: Takes place in Season 1 between "Unexpected" and "Breaking the Ice." Thank you to Dinah for being a good beta.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own Trek, or anything related to it.

"I don't like that man. I must get to know him better."- Abraham Lincoln

The first thing T'Pol noticed when she stepped out of the turbolift was quiet. The only activity present was the hum of the engines and footsteps of a few beta shift crewmen. It was strange to find this sort of tranquility in the chaotic environment that was a human ship.

But T'Pol was not here to bask in the silence. While she often found scents at this time unpleasant, she was now thankful that the diminishing strength of her nasal inhibitor would make her search easy. In no time, she tracked Commander Tucker to the reactor. When she saw no indication that he would turn away from the monitor, she wondered how he maintained such attention despite his hunger. Despite her dislike of him, she had to admit that the focus he displayed on his work could rival that of any Vulcan. Still, focus had its limits without sufficient food and rest. "Commander," she called out. "Do you have a moment?"

"Hold on. Just gotta finish this diagnostic," Tucker replied, without looking away. When the task was complete, he climbed down the ladder to meet her.

As he approached, she was surprised that his scent did not grow more repulsive with each step. In fact, it was pleasant despite mixing with the grease staining his uniform. "What can I do for you, Subcommander?"

"Commander, have you eaten?"

Tucker's jaw dropped. "What?"

If he responded immediately, T'Pol simply would have repeated the question. But his delayed reaction indicated something other than lack of hearing was at work. "Since you were unavailable all day, I planned to ask you for a status report before the evening meal. When I did not find you in the mess hall, I needed to know why."

Tucker sighed. "You were there for the solar flare. You know the number it did on the engines. I have to be here to fix it."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "At the expense of your health?"

Tucker rolled his eyes and exhaled through pursed lips. "Do I really have to explain? The engines are badly damaged. The mission can't go on if they're not fixed."

As a passing crewman stopped by with a shaking head, T'Pol did her best to ignore him. "However necessary your work is, you cannot be productive if your health is compromised from insufficient nutrition."

"Doesn't work that way for everyone. If you're interested, I'll show you my academy transcript and you can decide if skipping meals really damaged me. More importantly, what I eat is none of your business."

It was T'Pol's turn to be surprised. An image of the commander hunched over books rushed to mind. This irrational human often displayed traits she found disagreeable: anger, volatility, arrogance. Yet for all of his impulsiveness, he was willing to sacrifice health and leisure for what he perceived to be the good of the crew. As honorable as this was, the long hours of labor were unsustainable. She had an obligation to inform him of the fact, but how could she do this in a respectful manner? She took a deep breath. "As First Officer, it is my duty to monitor the well-being of the crew. I simply wish to ensure yours. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Tucker's eyes widened. "Look." He paused and exhaled. "I appreciate that you want to help," he said more gently. "But I can take care of myself."

Despite the Commander's effort to be more civil, T'Pol found herself more irritated. Humans had a way of arguing that they possessed certain capabilities when the evidence suggested otherwise. But to simply say he was wrong would be asking for trouble. And she could not risk testing the anger of someone who had missed dinner. A more indirect approach was needed. "Since you are capable of taking care of yourself, you would be aware of when you are tired. You would know if your hunger is enough to interfere with your concentration. The pain in your muscles-"

"Okay. I get the picture," Tucker cut her off. "I'll grab dinner and come back."

"Commander," T'Pol said with an edge creeping into her voice. "There is no enemy chasing Enterprise. We don't have an urgent destination. This means you're not needed here for a prolonged period. The logical choice is-"

"You won't see me for the rest of the night," Tucker interrupted, throwing his hands up in surrender as he left for the mess hall.

T'Pol was left to wonder if he saw the logic of a good night's rest or simply did not want to deal with her. As she watched him leave, the relief of ending their argument did not come. Was the usual time she spent in meditation sufficient for daily interaction with humans? Was she negligent for not anticipating situations like this?

She walked to the turbolift and made her way inside. As the car began to move, she now realized that Commander Tucker had a unique ability to confound her from even their earliest days in space. Though he had been adamant that she had no authority to take command when Archer was abducted, he had come to accept her as his superior officer. It had nothing to do with her Vulcan rank. It was because she had assured him that she accepted Archer's authority as captain. Surely this was not a logical reason for Tucker to accept a superior officer who was not originally part of the roster, let alone one he found disagreeable.

The doors opened and T'Pol continued into the corridor. Despite his illogical nature, Tucker was clearly not ruled by his base desires, at least when it came to his career. She did not know whether to admire his dedication to duty or be irritated by his stubbornness. Strangely enough, the most emotional human she had encountered was also the most disciplined.

Perhaps she should not have been surprised. Though Soval had frequently mentioned the humans' need for Vulcan guidance, he had told T'Pol that they were not the simplistic, primitive beings the High Command made them out to be. But being aware of the fact and seeing this with her own eyes were two different things. Her superiors would eventually ask for her observations on humans. How would they believe her when she was still coming to terms with what she had witnessed?

Perhaps Soval would have the answer to that question. Most importantly, it was only logical that she spoke to the only person who would understand her observations.

Keying in the code, T'Pol decided there were more urgent matters to take care of. Tonight, she would spend more time in meditation in order to make sense of the conflicting emotions Commander Tucker had elicited. Despite having a better understanding of humans than most Vulcans, T'Pol did not want to be too unsettled when she discussed the matter with Soval. She changed into her pajamas and began her work.