Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Star Trek universe. Paramount owns the show, the characters, the ships, etc. I'm only playing with them.

Now, on with the show.

Chapter 1 – A Surprising Turn of Events

As she stepped into the shower, she closed her eyes and let the warm water flow over her tired body. Seconds later, warm, strong hands caressed her shoulders and back, turning her to face him. Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck, and his lips met hers in a deep kiss. Finally, breathless, they drew back and gazed at each other . . . and T'Pol suddenly woke up.

Sitting up in bed, she drew her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs tightly with her arms. Another dream about Trip. They were recurrent, these dreams. Sometimes they were dreams of actual events, sometimes they were fantasies, but they all featured Trip Tucker. Lost Trip, loved Trip, the only man she'd ever love.

T'Pol rose from her bed and walked to the window. Gazing out at the predawn San Francisco skyline, she remembered that day when Trip had died. It was a senseless death, really. So illogical, and even six months later, grief rose up in her, threatening to overwhelm her. She missed him. Vulcans didn't miss those who died, after all it was illogical, but she missed Trip. She walked over to the chest of drawers in the corner of her bedroom. Opening the top drawer, she removed a blue Starfleet uniform. Trip's uniform. She had given the rest of Trip's things to his parents, but this she had kept. It was a terribly un-Vulcan thing to do, but she'd reached a point in her life where she didn't care if it was un-Vulcan. She raised the uniform to her face and rubbed her cheek against it. Her keen Vulcan sense of smell could still pick up the faint scent left in the fabric, Trip's scent. She replaced the uniform in the drawer, and, sighing, she decided to prepare for her meeting at the Vulcan Consulate with Ambassador Soval. Afterward, she had a meeting with Phlox regarding a special project she wanted to pursue. She showered and dressed, then lit her meditation candles. She needed to get her emotions under control.

T'Pol began her meditations as usual, focusing on the clean white space in her mind. She was still getting used to meditating without Trip Tucker accidentally popping in and out, although she would not have minded it now. It had been six months since his death rescuing the Andorian, Shran's, daughter and the Enterprise from alien smugglers. As she focused on her emotional control, she heard a voice she hadn't heard in six long months, echoing words she'd heard before.

"What the hell is this place?"

Opening her eyes, she saw a familiar person outlined against the stark white space of her mind.

It was Trip.

Startled, T'Pol was abruptly pulled from her meditative trance. Or was it awakened from her sleep? For, indeed, she thought that she must have been asleep in order to have had another dream about Trip, unless she had started to hallucinate. She dismissed that thought. Vulcans did not hallucinate.

Focusing once more on the white space in her mind, T'Pol resumed her meditations, and this time they were undisturbed.

T'Pol's duties with the new United Federation of Planets kept her busy. Not as busy as her assignment with Enterprise, but busy enough to help her through her daily life. She had almost forgotten about seeing Trip during her meditations.

Until it happened again a week later.

And again two weeks after that.

"So, you've seen Commander Tucker three times in your meditations." Phlox, who now worked at Starfleet Medical, ran the bioscanner over T'Pol's head and neck to check for any physical abnormality that could be causing delusions. Upon examining his findings, he shook his head. "There's nothing physically wrong with you. You're a little anemic, but some medication will alleviate that."

"Then what could be the reason for seeing Commander Tucker during my meditations?" she asked. "It is not logical for a Vulcan to have hallucinations."

"No," Phlox agreed. "But, you and the commander were bondmates. The breaking of that bond by his death could cause some psychological distress."

T'Pol looked at Phlox with a raised brow. "Would I not have experienced this distress six months ago when he died?"

Phlox shrugged. "Not necessarily." He walked over to his pharmaceutical cabinet and removed a small vial of pills. "You were under a great deal of stress at the time. That initial stress has now passed, causing you to be more open to feeling the broken bond."

T'Pol tentatively and delicately probed her own mind. She could detect no distress, psychological or otherwise. In fact, she felt something else, something very strange. She hadn't really allowed herself to examine the pain of losing someone she had cared about, much less been bonded with. She became very still, an odd look on her face.

"T'Pol? Are you all right?" Phlox queried gently. He knew that she and Commander Tucker had ended any romantic liaison they might have had years before, even though the bond was still there. Still, his loss must have been doubly painful with both the bond and her feelings for the commander. The relationship may have become platonic, but that did not mean the feelings went away.

"Yes." She once more focused on Phlox. "Thank you, doctor."

"You're very welcome, Commander." Phlox gave her the prescription for her anemia. "By the way, I'll soon be ready to start on your project."

"Do you have a definite time frame?" she questioned.

"Oh, I'd say not more than three weeks from now. I'll contact when everything is ready," he smiled.

"Very good." She nodded to him. "Thank you, Doctor." Then she exited the examining room.

T'Pol quickly hurried to her quarters. Something was definitely wrong. If her suspicions were right, something very wrong had happened six months before.

T'Pol focused on the white room. She had chosen this as her focal point for meditation because of its lack of distractions. As she concentrated on controlling her breathing, she steeled herself for what could possibly happen.

And it did happen.

"Here we go again," said a voice with a Southern accent.

T'Pol opened her eyes. There he was. She exerted every ounce of emotional control she had and managed to speak.

"Trip." She felt as if she were choking. His name was really all she could manage at the moment.

"What? You again?" he asked. "You want me to trip?" He took a long look at her and rubbed his eyes. He seemed quite perturbed. "I'm dreamin' about a Vulcan. I must be losin' my mind."

"I don't think this is a dream," she informed him. "We thought that you were dead, Trip." Even just saying this disturbed her.

"Oh, Trip's a name." He looked at her oddly. "My names not Trip. It's Tom. Tom Clark." He crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed the inside of his cheek with his tongue, then he narrowed his eyes and asked. "Who's Trip?"

It took every bit of emotional control for T'Pol to remain in the meditative state. Seeing the gesture that was so clearly Trip's was difficult, but his denial of his true identity was odd.

"You are Commander Charles Tucker III. Your friends call you Trip," she informed him matter-of-factly.

"And you're sayin' we're friends?" He gave a little laugh. "Yeah, right." He shook his head. "No disrespect intended, ma'am, but I only know two Vulcans, and they're definitely not female, they are not my friends, and they most definitely don't look like you."

"Then you are suffering from amnesia." She paused, then continued. "I know that you are Commander Tucker. Our bond is proof of that." She raised her chin and continued. "Have you been having extremely vivid daydreams of me?"

"Daydreams?" He looked at her in some trepidation. "Yeah, I've been having some really wild daydreams. Night dreams, too." He took a deep breath. "You were there." Trip's eyes wandered down her body as if trying to see what she looked like without her clothes. There was nothing sexual in his gaze, so she knew that he was trying to gauge if the shower dreams had been based on fact or fantasy. "I don't know why I'd be fantasizing about being with a Vulcan. An imaginary one at that."

T'Pol was about to say something when suddenly she was back in her quarters staring at her meditation candle. The whole incident left her feeling exhausted.

But, she had learned something. A name. It was a start.