"Trip?" the Captain called, joining his dearest friend on the San Francisco shoreline.

"Captain." Trip turned sombrely to him. His face was hard, pale, grim. He turned back to the sea, watching an incoming freighter. "What would you do if you knew your future? If someone had shown you your last moments?"

"Trip, I –."

The Commander cut him off with a shake of his head.

Trip looked over his friend's shoulder, his eyes immediately drawn to her, walking towards them. Strikingly beautiful, as she always had been, and she'd agreed, hook-line-and-sinker, that was maybe the best part.

He pulled a brown manilla envelope out of a shoulder back strung snugly across his back. "It's my resignation, John." he explained.

John took it tenderly, understanding the heaviness in his former-engineer's mannerisms. "Trip." he said sadly.

The Vulcan woman joined them, maintaining a distance appropriate for her species.

"T'Pol's too." Trip added quickly. He closed the distance between them, and wrapped an unprotested arm around her waist. "We're getting married, Captain."

John looked down at the envelope in his hands, and slowly back up to the lovers. His eyes were misty, but his face held a smile. "Congratulations," he choked, "It's just a shame I'm going to lose two such damn-good officers."

Trip smiled, not needing to say anything more. He turned the Vulcan love of his life with him. "Oh, Cap'n," he said as a final thought, "watch out for the Andorians."

John watched them leave, until they disappeared into the bustle of the San Francisco streets. He chuckled lightly to himself, only Trip.


It was still dark in the bedroom, neither of the Vulcan suns had yet risen for the day. Trip returned to bed, shaken.

"Trip," T'Pol questioned, "what's wrong?"

"The Cap'n." he stuttered, "He -, he was killed."

T'Pol said nothing.

"You don't understand, T'Pol, it was supposed to be me. I was supposed to save him – he was too important to the future."

"Trip." she soothed, "You are important to the future as well." She wound her fingers around his, wrapping his hand across the swelling in her abdomen. "To this future, Trip."

He let out a deep sigh. "I know." he said, snuggling into his unborn little girl, taking in T'Pol's ever-fresh scent.

He took a deep breath and sat upright again. "Enterprise is coming to pick us up, to take us to the funeral. They want me to say a few words. There's also the Federation founding – I can't believe he worked so hard for it, and now he's gone."

"He will never be gone, Trip, I expect he will live on forever in the Federation Charter."

Trip nodded a teary smile.

"Now come back into bed."