Disclaimer: I do not own Trip and T'Pol in any way, fashion or form. They are toys of Paramount. I am simply borrowing them for a while.

Journal Entry

The day had been hectic and long. Every bone in Trip's body ached. Awww Hell. If only this ship wasn't worth it, he thought; rubbing his sore muscles. He undid his uniform and stood in the middle of his quarters. Blue tank and shorts. Eyes and head back. The pleasant cool of the carpet under his feet reminded him of T'Pol's hands the first time she touched him. If only it was for more than supporting policy. The image in his mind of her switched to their first time in Decon together.

Applying the sanitizing gel to her body was nerve-wracking. Her skin was so soft and tight. Her petite form standing there vulnerable in front of him. His eyes caressed her skin, taking in every tantalizing inch. When it was his turn, joy leapt within him in more ways than one. He closed his eyes while facing away from her and took in the cool, gentle touch.

A smile spread across his face as he opened his eyes again. The lonely dark of the cabin engulfed him once more. Forward his shoulders fell at the slap of reality.

"She'll never be yours. Ever." he said to the dark emptiness.

Removing his tank and shorts, he moved to the shower area. He laid a towel on the floor in a corner and turned the water on full force. Again, he closed his eyes as he stepped in to the spray and dreamed. He dreamed…of HER.

He lay in her quarters on the floor. Her delicate hands pressed into his flesh. The stress of the day melted away under her finger tips. He struggled not moan at her every touch. Suddenly, he turned over and pulled her to his chest. She didn't protest. That seemed odd to him.

The shower glass whined under his weight as he gave it the most memorable kiss every received by a shower. His eyes unfogged to reveal his tub buddy. He reached over and shut the water off. Depressed again. He dried off, yet remained in deep thought as he left his towel on the floor. He pulled back the covers on the bed and climbed in. Moist skin met warm sheets for the night.

He leaned over and opened the drawer of his night stand pulling out a brown book and a pen. This brown book could conquer all, in times like tonight, when the world seemed empty. It had been one of the last gifts he received from his sister before she was killed. Thanks to T'Pol, it no longer hurt to remember her. The pain he felt now was caused by the one who helped him threw that dark time. He opened the book to the next blank page and cleared his mind.

"Before I can sleep, I got to tell her how I feel. I'll write her a letter. It's the only way to get her out of my head".

And so, he began to write.

Dear T'Pol,

Wait. Just be frank.

Again, he started. This time the words came fast and steady.

T'Pol:

I lay here in my bed on this night of all damn nights and the only thing on my mind is……. IS YOU T'Pol. I realize you will never see this letter but I need to say what's on my mind. I LOVE YOU T'POL. I love you like a sonofabitch. You irritate the hell out of me. Sometimes. I have never wanted that from anyone until I meet you. You intoxicate me just by standing there in that outfit. GOD that outfit. I die every time you walk away. Longing to tell you all of this consumes me. Vulcans and their damn emotional suppression. If only you knew what I was thinking now. If only you guessed how our sessions had become the light of my darkest days. How my dreams filled up with the sensation of your touch every night. If only you knew T'Pol. If only you knew.

I Love You Always,

Trip

As he ended the letter, a single tear escaped his eyes. Rage filled his chest and he launched the book at the door. He fell back on his pillow and pictured her again. This time her body was bare.

She lay intertwined with him. He kissed soft rose petal lips he so longed for. The gestured was returned. She pulled him to her and encircled his body with her legs. Above her he rose like a phoenix rise from the aches.

Beep.

His eyes opened. He cursed the door and the creator of the door.

"Who the hell is it?" He yelled.

The door slid open as T'Pol stood in her usual stance waiting to come in. From the bed he rose. Not caring who saw him in this state. He was bare physically and mentally in the presence of the caused. Her brow rose as she observed his natural state.

"Well…? Are you just going to stand there and stare?" he screamed. His chest heaved and his patience sagged under the weigh of her invasion. T'Pol paused as if choosing her response carefully. She squared her shoulders and look into his blue eyes. She could see the pain in them. She could feel the longing but she had not idea of the degree to which she affected him. The weight of her stare angered and transfixed him. He took a step toward her.

"Well…? What the hell it is T'Pol?!" he barked. Anger burned in his ears for every moment his desires were unquenched.

She stared into his eyes and stepped as closed to him as possible. He could feel the heat of her body and smell the scent of her lotion. Lemon Spice. How dare you tempt me.

She leaned forwarded and whispered into his ear, "I know."

"You know? What do you mean you…..." His voice trailed off as it hit him. Touch telepaths. Vulcans don't touch because...

"We can read each other's thoughts," she finished aloud.

His eyes grew wide as he backed away and fell on the bed. She dropped her uniform to the floor and joined him upon the bed that was his throne of grief earlier.

"How long have you known?" he croaked. "A while", she stated simply.

She made up for the pain she caused him all of this time. He never needed the journal again.

THE END