The universe of Star Trek and all related intellectual material is the property of Paramount. Some of us like to play in that universe and let our imagination run wild writing more stories. This is one of those stories [double-chime from Law Order].
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Trip walked into the transporter room, square duffel over his shoulder, whistling a happy tune, heedless of hitting any wrong notes. T'Pol looked up from where she was inspecting an assortment of hard-shell cases of all sizes and got up to her feet, hands behind her back.
"Have you decided against shore leave?" she eyed him quizzically, though he couldn't tell what she was thinking as she was carefully censoring the bond.
He turned around so she could see his duffel bag. "Three days shore leave with you on an alien planet, even if you haf'ta work – what'd make you think I'm not going?"
"I remember your customary shore leave sartorial attire as being somewhat more colorful."
Trip looked down at his well-worn pants and comfortable top, suddenly realized what she was talking about. "Ah" he drawled "you don't get it, do you? See, the tropical print shirts were so that I'd get noticed" an eyebrow emphatically stressed her acknowledgement of the thousand-watt truth of his statement "but I don't need to get noticed anymore, seeing that I'm already with you." He flashed his best smile at her.
The other eyebrow joined the first one in a mute exclamation point. "Is it a human male trait to seek a relaxation of standards as soon as a goal is achieved?"
Trip chuckled "Yeah, it won't take long before you see me grow nose hair and start turning in these beauties "he admired the cuff of his pants "for sweat pants – very stretchable sweat pants, to fit my expanded girth, you know."
"Nose hair? Commander Tucker -–"
Her retort was interrupted by Archer's arrival. Like Trip, he was in civvies, comfortable clothes that may have been in statis for well over a few years judging by the tightness in the waist and thighs of his pants. That may have been the reason for the Captain's somewhat grumpy mood. Or it could more likely be because there was no way he didn't hear the last few sentences of their exchange and the part about weight gain. Hoshi Sato trailed him, still wearing her uniform.
"Ok, you two" he snapped "enough with the bantering. The science teams have a job to do, even if Commander Tucker and I are forced to take shore leave." He gave T'Pol a pointed look, which went straight over the Vulcan's head. Once again Archer self-pityingly decided that he and Vulcans were simply destined never to understand each other. Archer looked at Trip. "Let's remember that shore leave is secondary. The science teams are going down to catalogue the existing flora and fauna. You and I are sidecars. Thanks to Phlox." And thanks to your wife. But he didn't say so.
As luck would have it, that was the precise moment when the doctor sauntered into the transporter room, his grin as broad as usual, quite oblivious to the disgruntled stare Archer threw him. "Well, well, well" the Denobulan was all asmile "I see everything is in order, hmmm?"
Archer glared back at him. "You don't have to come and throw your medical weight around, doctor. Commander Tucker and I are going on shore leave."
"Oh," Phlox grinned even wider, if that was possible "I was not coming to check on Commander Tucker and you. No, you see," it was obvious Phlox was absolutely relishing every minute of this "after I put you on medically-ordered shore leave, thanks to Commander T'Pol's report that neither of you had taken the regulatory-mandated time off in the last two years" he graciously inclined his head towards the resident Vulcan, who inclined hers back in response, though with a smidgen of reserve brought on both by the irate glances from Archer and Trip and by a keen sixth sense that the good doctor had something up his sleeve, "I decided to review the entire crew's RR history and update all records." The doctor stopped, bouncing slightly up and down on his heels, hands clasped behind his back. "And I found another exception, a member of the command team who has been derelict taking the required time off." He turned to T'Pol "Which is why as per Regulation M-2552.02 I am placing Commander T'Pol under a three-day medically-ordered shore leave, effective as of today."
Phlox's grin could have lit up a ballroom.
The wall of anger that came back at the doctor through the bond was so strong that Trip took a step back in fear, before he realized it had only been an emotional reaction from T'Pol, quickly suppressed. She was staring at the doctor through dangerously-narrowed eyes. Trip took the on-the-spot decision that there would be no nose hairs hanging any place around him. No siree bob, not with her as a wife.
"Doctor, you are interrupting a scientific mission of extreme importance." Funny how a calm tone could sound so ominous.
"Commander, I am not interrupting anything and your team is superbly qualified to handle the cataloguing of indigenous flora and fauna without you there. You're the one who trained them after all. You may take a tricorder down with you and putter around all you want looking at things here and there but you are not leading any science teams and you are not doing any work."
Trip couldn't remember seeing T'Pol at a loss for words before. The doctor had managed to pull the rug from under her feet. As if Phlox couldn't let go of a winning streak, he went on. "Oh, and of course, per regulations, you cannot stay in the Starfleet facilities at the spaceport, you're to spend the next three days in a lodging of your choice, at Starfleet's expense, at a minimum fifteen miles remove from the nearest work-related facility."
Archer turned to Trip "I take it you have some planning to do?"
Trip flashed his best smile back at him and T'Pol "I'm sure the facility I was planning to stay at can accommodate a room for two without any issue." And T'Pol had already packed for a stay planetside, whether at the Starfleet spaceport or in the city would make no difference. Actually, from his perspective, this whole shore leave was sounding better and better. Instead of having to go find her at the survey sites each day and keep himself busy while the scientists geeked around, he had visions of hikes and road trips and late mornings dancing around in his head.
The good thing with Vulcans was that once they accepted the logic of a situation, they embraced it completely rather than hold grudges or drag their feet. All he needed to do was wait a couple of minutes for T'Pol to mentally review Starfleet regulations and come to the realization she had no choice.
Archer's mood also had lifted, proving once again that misery loves company. That, and a certain aura of payback that the snitch who got him and Trip into shore leave was hoist on her own petard. "Perhaps the three of us can meet for dinner one day." Leaving a rueful T'Pol to mull things over, he turned to Hoshi "You'll be ok?" Lieutenant Reed would also be taking shore leave, having avoided the cold grasp of M-2552 by less than a week. Lucky devil.
The diminutive ensign comically snapped her heels in reply. "Everything will be fine, Captain. If I may remind you, you're not the only one going on shore leave. Half the crew will be on the planet." Apart from the three medical inductees, shore leave had been granted through a simple lottery. The lucky winners would be spending three days planetside in one of Luspypso's subterranean cities, just enjoying their time off.
"Everyone will be studying the birds and the bees" quipped Trip, rolling his eyes.
"Commander, while the planet does have species of theropods and endothermic vertebrates that are similar to birds, we do not know if their hexapod invertebrates include a paraphyletic group like bees." T'Pol paused when she realized from the Humans' facial expressions that she may be talking off subject. She quickly reviewed her knowledge of colloquial expressions stopping on the one that seemed to be the most closely related. "Unless you are referring to courtship and sexual intercourse?"
Hoshi snorted and Archer coughed, turning red. "Well, uh, everyone, since we're not allowed to play, let's focus on making sure the work teams have what they need." That drew T'Pol's attention back to the scientific equipment that was in the process of being beamed down. Behind her back, Archer threw a meaningful look at Trip, trying to impress that there were times when the engineer would be better off keeping his mouth shut.
He turned back to Hoshi "Just make sure the good doctor here doesn't decide you need more time off than you really do."
Phlox good naturedly let the remark roll-off. "Regulations, Captain, regulations. Intellectually, everyone knows that a well-rested mind is a sharper mind and a well-rested organism has more reserves against illnesses and general life adversities, but some have a harder time with the practical application. That's why the regulations are there."
"And you're not taking shore leave yourself?"
Phlox chuckled, inwardly giving Archer points for trying. "I did take shore leave over the past two years Captain, actually more than once. I have a bunch of medical journals to keep me entertained." He flashed another radiant smile. "Sharpness."
"The equipment is ready for transportation." T'Pol interrupted, all-business as usual.
"I will transport it down myself. And you all," Hoshi was already stepping at the controls.
"And the other shore leave teams?" a part of Archer wanted to make sure they wouldn't be the only ones relaxing on the planet, like some giant practical joke where he and half his command team were basking in the sun while his entire crew was working through the night.
"They're already lined up in the corridor. The science teams will go first, then the shore leave teams, seven at a time. The spaceport transporter is large enough." Hoshi was going into more detail than she had to but she understood Archer's vicarious need to make sure everything was in place. He simply wasn't used to taking shore leave.
Archer sighed, turning to the transporter pad. After all, it was only three days.
What could go wrong in three days?