Title: Shore Leave

Author: JennaTripped

Archive: Trip/T'Polers has permission, as does this place. All others, please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Trip brings T'Pol home while on leave. T'Pol gets licked by a dog with a strange name.

Rating: G

A/N: This story was originally written midway through season 2 when I was no longer even watching Enterprise. It's been heavily rewritten to reflect recent events. If you guys find any glaring inconsistencies, let me know.

The couple emerged from the taxi that had transported them from the bustling airport to the tiny town. The street was quiet. Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III frowned. While he hadn't expected – or wanted – a big to-do over his return, he was surprised his parents weren't waiting for him.
"Did you not specify a time for your arrival?"
The woman beside the human hero removed the hat she had become accustomed to wearing since reaching Earth, revealing a brunette head and a pair of delicately pointed ears. SubCommander T'Pol had discovered that while she alone might not be considered a source of media attention, her choice of companion had sparked civilian interest. She and Commander Tucker had been hounded mercilessly by over-eager paparazzi from the moment they had stepped off the shuttle and onto terra firma. They were not alone. The rest of the crew had received similar treatment. Captain Archer had ensconced himself within the StarFleet command center and showed no signs of leaving any time soon. It was unpleasant, but as much as she had craved peace over the past two weeks, the unnatural stillness of the pretty house and street disturbed her. Perhaps it would have been wiser to spend her leave at the Vulcan embassy if her presence was enough to drive her... friend's... parents away.
"Yeah, I told 'em we were comin'. Mom said she'd have a pie waiting for me."
As Trip lifted their luggage off the ground, T'Pol's sensitive ears detected a rustling in the nearby shrubbery. A strong odor quickly followed, and before she had time to react two large, hairy, quadrupeds leapt from the bush and landed squarely on Trip, knocking him to the ground.
T'Pol reacted, recovering from her shock, and reached to push them off the Commander, who was rolling on the ground covering his face. Her heart raced... until she realized Commander Tucker was – laughing? T'Pol took stock of the situation a second time. The dogs were not biting Trip as she had originally suspected. They were vigorously licking the hands shielding his face, their tails moving back and forth in a crazed rhythm.
Her fear faded to amusement tinged with disgust. They really were very smelly, much more so than Captain Archer's sanitized beagle.
"Easy guys! Get off, now!" Trip managed to stop laughing long enough to stand, only to break into another fit when he saw T'Pol's expression. He reached out a hand in apology. "Sorry T'Pol. They're just happy to see me."
T'Pol eyed his hand warily, noting the canine saliva. "I see."
Deprived of their favorite target, the dogs turned to T'Pol and began sniffing around her feet. "Please ask them to refrain from this activity." She took a step backward, and raised her eyebrow at the animals when they pursued her.
Trip smiled brilliantly at her, watching her nose wrinkle as the dogs sniffed her clothing. He wished he could do that sometimes, just walk up to her and inhale the scent that was entirely hers. She was so beautiful. He couldn't believe she'd wanted to spend her leave with him.
"Commander?"
Trip belatedly noticed his dog had started licking T'Pol's hand. She was looking at him, pleading with her eyes, a distressed expression gracing her features. She would never admit it, but he'd been able to read her subtle facial expressions for months now.
"Bedford! Come 'ere!" The larger of the two animals pranced eagerly to Trip's side while the other raced up the path to the house.
"Bedford?" T'Pol took a moment to compose herself, breathing in the warm, dog-free air.
"Yep. Bedford Tucker IV. The original Bedford died when I was 11. This is his great-grandson."
"What breed is he?"
"Ya know, I'm not sure. Part lab, part giant? I used to ride around on his great-grandpa's back when I was little."
"What is the other dog's name?"
"Uh..." Trip nervously rubbed the back of his neck and avoided her eyes. "Ya know, I'm not sure what they named him...."
While T'Pol digested this, Trip dragged the subject of their discussion over to a hose lying on the lawn. He wanted T'Pol to be comfortable here, and she wouldn't be if his dogs smelled like they'd been chasing a skunk. Bedford thought the spray of the hose fun for a moment, before Trip caught him in the side. The dog shook vigorously, raining dirty droplets of water on his perturbed master.
"Damn dog." Trip muttered and grabbed their stuff. Now T'Pol wouldn't come within ten feet of him 'til he showered. He sighed. He could never win. Trip picked up their stuff and the pair paused on the porch, T'Pol keeping a safe distance from her chagrined companion. "T'Pol, push that little button please. I can't believe they're not home!"
T'Pol pressed the doorbell and heard answering chimes play inside the house. She also thought she heard the patter of feet on hardwood floors, but when she looked at Trip, he was as confused as before.
"Try the knob."
Charles Tucker II crouched behind the living room sofa next to his wife. His back wasn't up to these charades anymore, but the family had insisted that Trip be given a surprise party. Personally, he'd wanted to walk up to his boy, pull him into a hug, and convince him to stay on Earth from now on. He'd seen Trip on the news and had been humbled by the haunted – if triumphant – look in his child's eyes. Charlie doubted Trip would appreciate any more suspense after chasing the Xindi all over the galaxy, especially since he'd brought the Vulcan gal – T'Pol – home with him.
Vulcans didn't like surprises. Heck, they didn't "like" anything.
But Charlie looked over at his wife. Susan was about to explode with happiness. It was the first real smile he'd seen on her face since Lizzie...
Charlie felt his eyes sting and forced the grief away. There had been time, and would be more time, to mourn his baby girl. Now it was time to be happy with Trip.
In the same room, plastered against the window seat, Trip's cousin Michelle grabbed her son Nicholas before he made any more noise running around and ruined the surprise. From her vantage point under the window she had watched her handsome cousin and his mysterious friend exit the taxi and try to make it to the house. Bedford and Soval were such pests. Michelle frowned as the woman refused Trip's outstretched hand, but Trip seemed to take it in stride. Nicholas chose that moment to wiggle free and dashed across the room as the pair approached the door. His grand-uncle Charlie nabbed him and clamped a hand over his mouth, making the little boy giggle harder. His blonde head disappeared behind the sofa as the doorbell rang. Michelle glanced outside again, trying to get a closer look at Trip's lady friend. She stifled a gasp. It was then she saw the ears.
"It is open."
"Well, then, go on in."
T'Pol arched a brow and was rewarded with a gentle smile as she cautiously entered the house. Now she was sure she heard something – no, someone – breathing heavily.
"I believe..."
"SURPRISE!!"
T'Pol suddenly found herself surrounded by humans. It was extremely overwhelming, since everyone seemed to be shouting and talking at once. Unconsciously she edged closer to Trip and took in the stunned expression on his face.
Trip dropped the bags on the floor and embraced his father, who'd been the first to reach him through the throng of people hiding out in the living room and kitchen. He felt tears stinging his eyes and hurriedly wiped them away as he dimly heard his dad welcoming him home. There was his mom and dad, his brother, his uncles, aunts, neighbors, friends, his cousins... it seemed like everyone he'd ever met and cared for was crammed into his home. His attention was fractured between the dozens of people he hadn't seen in over a year, which was the excuse he gave himself to slip his left hand into T'Pol's right and interlock their fingers when she pressed up against his side. With that taken care of, he felt like a million bucks and happily put up with the kisses and bear hugs of the rest of his family. He wiped the tears away from his mom's eyes and gave her an extra-long hug.
"It's okay. I'm back. I'm fine. Don't worry."
She nodded and retreated to the kitchen to allow the rest of the people a chance to greet her son.
T'Pol watched as a woman with long hair the same color as Commander Tucker's walked forward and, in direct contrast to the robust greetings of the rest of his family, gently wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed.
"Hello, Michelle..."
T'Pol felt a pang of envy, and emotion she had had some experience with since meeting and becoming... acquainted... with Commander Tucker. The feel of his hand within hers combined with the next words out of the woman's mouth erased the feelings.
"Hey yerself, Dog Breath. You smell horrible. Don't they let ya shower on that fancy ship?"
"Hey! I'll have you know I shower at least twice a day! Kinda mandatory..." He looked at T'Pol and winked. "Besides, it's only once I got back to this old rock that I started ta stink again."
"Well, you know Sov..."
Trip tensed and almost imperceptibly shook his head at his pretty cousin, letting his eyes shift quickly towards T'Pol and back again. Michelle got it.
"Em, so! Are you going ta introduce us?" The woman's gaze fixed on T'Pol, and blue eyes met brown and held.
T'Pol froze. It had been months since her Trellium-D addiction, and while she still felt emotion more strongly than before, she was better at categorizing it and dealing with it. She would define this emotion as dread, fear, or apprehension. Commander Tucker squeezed her hand, reminding her that she had allowed such intimate contact, but he would not let her pull away. She pulled her "Vulcan mask" on quickly. The room was very quiet.
"Yep. Family, friends, everybody. This is Subcommander T'Pol. She served as the Enterprise's science officer. Believe it or not, she got tired of those dignified old guys at the embassy and decided this might be a little more fun. We worked together real close up there, and she's one of the best friends I have."
T'Pol looked at him, confused and grateful. His eyes were smiling at her, and she instantly felt more at ease. Her expression softened imperceptibly to everyone except Trip, and he was suddenly very glad he'd said what he said. That look was worth everything.
Michelle observed the couple as Uncle Charlie herded everyone into the backyard to eat. They hung back behind the crowd, talking quietly. They were no longer holding hands, and once again the Vulcan was staying a respectable distance from her cousin. Michelle vaguely remembered that Vulcan females had a heightened sense of smell, and if SHE had thought Trip reeked, it had to be worse for the Subcommander. She saw Trip smile in that strange, gentle way again, and instead of walking outside, he detoured and headed up the stairs.
She looked into the yard to check on Nicki and saw him happily perched atop his father, David's, shoulders. He was really getting too big for that... Michelle noticed the Vulcan woman waiting at the back door leading to the yard and made a split-second decision.
"Where's Trip?"
"Commander Tucker expressed a wish to shower." She paused. "You are his cousin, Michelle?"
"Yep, that's me." A vaguely uncomfortable silence began to stretch between them. "So, what was it like working with Trip?"
"It was... trying. Space travel is frequently stressful, and our encounters were no exception. However, Commander Tucker is a brilliant engineer and a kind man. I was pleased to have the opportunity to know him."
Michelle was a more than a little shocked. She'd never heard a Vulcan talk like that. She had taken Trip's words about T'Pol being his best friend with a grain of salt, but now she wondered if he hadn't been just being nice. She certainly seemed to like him. Her words sounded affectionate even. Michelle began to re-evaluate what she knew of Vulcans.
"Well, while he's showerin', you can come outside. Aunt Sue's made some great chicken salad, if you'd like to try some."
"I will have to apologize to Trip's mother. I do not consume animal products."
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know that! We can whip up somethin' vegetarian. I'll tell Aunt Sue..."
"There's no need, Michelle." Trip father walked up behind the two women and smiled warmly. "Susan and I know Vulcans don't eat meat."
T'Pol met the forthright gaze of the older man. It appeared that Trip's parents had known she would be arriving with him and had not informed the rest of the family. She could not help but wonder why they had chosen to keep the information to themselves. She did not understand this need to have Commander Tucker's family accept her, but she was losing faith that it would happen.
"Indeed, Mr. Tucker. I am pleased to have been invited to this gathering anyway. I know it means a great deal to Trip."
Charles blinked. He'd been a little cool with T'Pol, but hadn't let his reservations about her move to rudeness. Susan had prepared several salads and even vegetarian lasagna.
"I know it does, Subcommander."
"You may call me T'Pol, Mr. Tucker."
"Well, then you may call me Charles." Charlie watched as the Vulcan's face lightened, and gave her a slow wink.
T'Pol was momentarily disoriented by how like Trip the wink made his father look. She said so on impulse.
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment. Hard to resist the Tucker charm."
"Indeed." T'Pol found herself charmed by this man. She had quickly realized that her perception of him had been incorrect. He was merely being cautious, as she had been.
"Susan made great veggie lasagna. It's got spinach, mushrooms, black olives, and a really great spaghetti sauce. You'll enjoy it, and you must be hungry."
"Thank you... Charles. Commander Tucker and I have no eaten since this morning."
"Well then, I'll show you to the buffet." He held out his arm and T'Pol took it, not wanting to appear rude. "May I ask you a question, T'Pol?"
"Of course." He steered her towards a long table on the lawn, where the family had lined up to serve themselves.
"You're on shore leave... why do you call my son Commander?"
"It is a... habit, Charles. He has refused to allow me to call him Charles, and I am not entirely comfortable using his nickname."
"Why not?"
"Vulcans do not have nicknames. It is not logical to call a being anything other than it's given name."
"I see. Ya know, I think Trip would really like it if ya'd call him that. That's what we all call him, and I know he thinks of you as family."
"You are mistaken, Charles. Trip and I are good friends and associates, nothing more."
"I think you might be the one who's mistaken, but if you're sure..."
"I am. However, I will make an effort to call him Trip, if you believe it means as much to him as you say."
"That's good, T'Pol. Now, how about this lasagna?"
Trip stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel hanging from the bar. He brought it up to his face and rubbed the droplets of water off his skin. The towel smelled so achingly familiar. Like the soap his mom used to wash the clothes, and like sunshine. He rubbed it through his hair a few times and then wrapped it around his waist. He hadn't been home long enough to take a shower in years, but the motions of doing so brought back a flood of memories of this house.
He opened the door and after a quick check down the hallway, exited the bathroom and walked to his room. The whole family was still outside. He knew T'Pol was probably uncomfortable, but he also knew his family would make an effort with her until he came down. Trip unzipped his duffle bag and frowned as he perused the contents. His family didn't care what he was wearing, and T'Pol had seen him every day for the last three years so she wouldn't care either. But, inexplicably, he wanted her to see him with his family, looking nice. He upended the duffle onto his bed and walked over to the closet. He pulled out a pair of tan-colored slacks and his favorite dress shirt. Lizzie used to make him wear it all the time. She'd said it complimented his eyes. Trip figured it couldn't hurt.
He spent an unnecessary amount of time shaving and fixing his hair before finally dressing and descending the stairs. Before walking out onto the patio, he paused in front of the mirror in the main hallway and poked at a strand of hair that hung down his forehead. He buttoned the top button on his shirt. Then, he unbuttoned it. He unbuttoned the next one, revealing a few strands of chest hair. This is ridiculous. He left the top button undone and went outside.
T'Pol paused after a bite of the surprisingly adequate lasagna and looked across the lawn at the patio. He looked... beautiful.
T'Pol was not accustomed to seeing Trip in anything other than his blue StarFleet jumpsuit. He'd worn a dress uniform to the reception at StarFleet headquarters, but it hadn't fit him nearly as well as the fitted slacks and shirt that was stretched across his shoulders.
She licked her lips and swallowed. He saw her and started forward.
Michelle, who had been talking with T'Pol when her attention suddenly shifted, wasn't sure what to think about this. But, it really wasn't her business. She'd just never seen Trip look at a woman like this before. She'd certainly never seen a Vulcan look back. Maybe she really was completely ignorant, or maybe T'Pol was just a special member of her species.
"Excuse me, T'Pol. I'm gonna go check on my son. Trip's on his way though."
"Thank you, Michelle. I enjoyed your company."
"Oh, you're welcome. You haven't seen the last of me. Have fun at the party!"
T'Pol nodded absently, a human gesture she had picked up after several years on Enterprise. Her eyes never wavered from Trip as he made his way towards the table she was sitting at. He climbed over the bench to the picnic table and sat down across from her, a light breeze playing gently with his hair. This environment was almost too idyllic for T'Pol. She was used to finding the hidden menace in scenes such as this. It was a rare occasion when she could truly relax, but she felt herself doing so as Trip's blue eyes locked with hers.
"Good lasagna?"
"Yes. I will thank your mother when she has the time. You have a large family."
"Yep." He smiled at her. "I haven't seen some of these people in years."
"You should go mingle. I am sure they are eager to hear of your adventures."
Trip lazily bent an elbow on the table rested his head on his arm, all the while watching T'Pol. "There will be time for all of that. I'd rather stay here with you. If anyone comes over, we can both tell 'em about our adventures."
Trip tried to keep his breathing even. All of his focus was on the woman sitting across from him. She looks so perfect here... He barely noticed the activity of the people around him. They had faded into the comforting background of home. Trip slipped his feet out of the sandals he'd pulled on when he couldn't find his nice shoes. The grass tickled his toes. He slowly slid a foot under the table and rested it on top of T'Pol's.
She didn't react, so he didn't move.
He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, just watching each other and playing footsie.
The end. There may be more in the future. After all, she still doesn't know the damn dog's name, but I'll bet you guys found it. ;-)