Missing missing scenes: Addiction
Summary: T'Pol finds some habits are hard to break.
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise and its characters are copyright CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the author of this story, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit.
A/N: A short angstidote best read after Alelou's missing scene for The Augments.
She flung herself out of bed and paced the short distance between the doorway and the viewport. How could she ever have slept like this? It was far too cold, the sheets were too scratchy and it was impossible to ignore the clatter of the recycling pump just beyond the bulkhead. And even if she did manage to get to sleep, she would be disturbed within minutes by a crewmember stomping past her door. It didn't even smell right.
She hugged herself against the cold. At one time, none of this had bothered her and she had considered her quarters quite adequate. But not any more.
She was honest enough to admit the true source of the problem. It was so easy to become accustomed to life's indulgences, but so hard to do without them when they were suddenly unavailable. It was obvious that tonight was going to be just as sleepless as the night before, and the one before that. It was illogical, she decided, to deny it any longer. She knew exactly what she needed.
It was only a deck away. She could be there in minutes. At this time of night there would be nobody to see her weakness, and her security override would let her in. It would be logged, of course, and she had no conceivable excuse for being there at this time of night, but she would have to hope that nobody reviewed the logs.
Decision made, she pulled her thermal suit on and twisted expertly to do the zip up, then pulled the boots on and slipped out of her quarters. Soon she was at her destination. She made a last check that there was nobody to see her, and keyed in her override.
He was tangled in the sheets, curled around his pillow with his face buried in it, and both arms hugging it tightly to him.
Her pillow, she realised, after their latest exchange.
She sat gingerly on the edge of his bed. When he still didn't wake up, she poked him gently and waited until he opened one eye and squinted up at her, blinking against the dim glow of the emergency lighting.
"T'Pol? Why are you here? Is something wrong?" he asked.
She looked at the floor, suddenly unsure where to begin.
"Can't sleep?" he guessed.
She nodded. That was a good a place to start as any.
Wordlessly he held the pillow out to her.
"That's not working any more," she said. "I need ..."
That was the crux of the matter. What did she need?
"I have had to give up my Ashayam, and now my T'hy'la won't even talk to me," she complained bitterly. "Have I lost him as well?"
He looked at her in surprise, and then looked away in shame. She saw him swallow several times. "I'm sorry, T'Pol. I never expected it to be this hard," he whispered, finally.
"I can't do this any more," she said. "Not like this. Not on my own. You said you didn't want to come back out without me. Do you think I want to be here without you?"
"You're not ...?" he said. Was that alarm that crossed his face at the prospect of her leaving?
"I thought I would be able to complete the mission with you," she said. "They allowed me that, at least." She held her hand up as he started to object. "You've already made it clear. But I thought that even if I couldn't be with you, I would have my friends, and my T'hy'la. But instead ..." she broke off, suddenly aware of how strident her voice was getting.
He watched her as she fought for composure.
"What do you need?" he asked softly.
It took her a moment to realise that she'd known the answer all along. She looked him squarely in the eye. "I need to know I'm not alone," she said simply.
He watched her silently for a moment and then nodded suddenly as if he'd reached a decision. Pulling back the blanket he held it open in wordless invitation.
The thought of sleeping in her thermal suit wasn't appealing, but she was fairly sure that if she started undressing their fragile accord would be broken. Quickly kicking off her boots, she rolled into bed beside him and waited while he pulled the blanket over them both.
"This doesn't mean ..." he warned her.
"I know," she agreed hurriedly.
She pushed back against him and lifted her middle off the mattress so he could wrap both arms around her, and with practised familiarity they settled into their usual sleeping position. As he snuffled gently against the back of her neck the events of the last few weeks fell away and her eyes drifted closed. She had lost a lot, but she still had her T'hy'la.