Crossing Lines
by Bil!
Summary: She'd wanted him to be right. Tag to The Crossing. T'Pol, Archer. Oneshot.
Season: Two.
Spoilers: The Crossing.
Disclaimer: All hail Paramount, supreme rulers of all things Trek.
A/N: Will make no sense if you don't remember the episode.
She'd wanted him to be right.
T'Pol stared into the flickering meditation flame as she knelt alone in the dim heat of her quarters, but peace would not be finding her this night. Her logic had failed her and she was as yet uncertain as to how she should deal with the situation.
She'd wanted him to be right.
She'd wanted the captain to be correct about the aliens' motives because she didn't want to believe that he was so closed-minded as to fear the different. Where was the logic in that? There was none.
Why should it matter so much to her whether he was bound by insular human prejudice? Why should it be of any importance to her personally? It wasn't that she had any stake in his beliefs, for she didn't. As long as he continued to be an effective and competent commander, his beliefs should only affect her in the abstract. They should not consume her with a worry that he was too trapped in fears of the unknown that could only blind him to the diversity of the universe.
Yet here she was, concerned, and she didn't understand it. Couldn't understand it. Why should it matter? Why should she have wanted for him to be right?
But he had been. His strange, inexplicable human instinct had been right again.
And she was glad of it.
Why?
T'Pol closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it, letting it out slowly... Instead of fighting a losing battle against the questions that burned as bright as her candle flame, she turned the uncertainties away for the moment and reviewed her day. The advent of the alien spaceship and its swallowing of Enterprise, the strange and worrying behaviours of her crewmates caused by possession by incorporeal lifeforms, the crew's retreat to the catwalk... and her own deliberate attempt to initiate contact with one of the aliens.
In truth she hadn't left the catwalk for the sake of the ship or the crew. Those were the reasons, but they were not the cause. She had left because she needed to prove to herself that he was right. Because her captain needed her to do it.
These were not logical reasons. Although it would be a simple matter, should anyone ask, to provide logical and reasoned explanations that made her actions not only preferable but necessary, T'Pol was not yet at the point where she would betray herself by lying to herself. The valid, logical reasons existed and they did very well for explaining herself to others... but they weren't the true reasons and she was quite aware of that.
She just wasn't sure what to do about it.
When she had first come aboard this ship, the idea that she would consider a human her friend, trust his judgement over her own, would have been inconceivable. But that had been before she had been exposed to the chaotic, exuberant, illogical atmosphere of this ship, before she had been abandoned to live alone among humans with no contact with her own people.
If her younger self had known what was to come, she likely would have refused the posting. But she hadn't known, and the older, wiser T'Pol would not refuse. Enterprise was not an easy posting, it was not conducive to logic or to balance... but it was a stimulating environment. It tested her, pushed her to extend herself, to learn about ideas and ways that she would otherwise have passed by.
On this ship, among these humans, she had learnt to grow and change and adapt. Perhaps it was not an ideal situation for a Vulcan, but T'Pol was making it into an idea situation for herself. Her time aboard Enterprise, however difficult, was making her into a better person, possibly better than she could ever have become had she remained on her homeworld.
It was, perhaps, worth the challenges to her logic.
Perhaps.
The door chime sounded and T'Pol opened her eyes. The candle flame flickered at her as she said, "Come," and rose from her knees.
Captain Archer stood at the door. "I hope I'm not interrupting," he said with a glance at the candle, his eyes flicking across her meditation robes.
"I was..." She decided on the truth. "My meditation was not going well. You are not interrupting."
He grimaced, vivid human expressions twitching across his face with a force that still seemed slightly obscene to someone raised in Vulcan calm. "Sorry."
T'Pol tilted her head. "For what, Captain?" Although he was the reason her meditation was failing, it wasn't his fault – and he couldn't possibly know that he was the reason.
"I shouldn't have let you—I can't imagine what it was like having that thing in your head."
There was the touch of another's thoughts on Self, strange and new tasting, bitter and sweet and soft, blending greenly with Self's own being. In a swirl of inchoate thought, Self comprehended the plans Alien Self had for Self's own people and realised the need for Self to warn Self's own. Just as urgently determined, Alien Self forced its way through Self's barriers, skittering across Self's thoughts like melting tar, sticky and unpleasant.
Locked within Self's own thoughts, Self threw up shimmering walls of defence and warding. There was no fear, for Self was Self and there was no fear here, but for a few moments of struggle there was a place where there could be fear. If Alien Self succeeded Self would no longer exist.
"It was necessary," T'Pol said calmly, choosing not to correct his assumption as to the cause of her problem. "You didn't force me, I made the decision for myself." He was too prone to what humans called 'guilt trips'. T'Pol wasn't sure where the term came from, but occasionally this guilt did indeed make him trip.
"You shouldn't have had to do it."
She lifted one eyebrow at him. "I know of no other way in which we would have been able to obtain the information about the aliens' plans."
"No." Frustrated, he scrubbed his fists against his thighs. "Look, I just wanted to say thanks."
"For what, Captain?"
"For what you did today. For taking that chance, for helping me save the crew. For believing in me enough the question the aliens' motives." T'Pol stilled a moment at that, surprised by his perceptiveness. "That means a lot. I know you thought I was just being a typical scared human, so, well, thanks."
"I trust your judgement," she said. It would have been unnecessary to say this to a Vulcan, but he wasn't a Vulcan.
"You, uh, you do?"
"As your first officer it is my duty to lay before you alternative points of view. But you are the captain of this ship and I do trust you." She tilted her head. "Even if you are human."
A rueful grin crossed his face at that. "Well, I guess I can't change that, can I? I do try to listen to you, you know. I'm just not always very good at it."
"You are human," she repeated, deeming this explanation enough, and this time the smile stayed on his face.
"Yes, I am. I'm glad that hasn't scared you off yet." He tugged on his jumpsuit. "I just wanted to say thanks. So, thank you. And I'm glad you, you know." He waved a hand as if the gesture would explain everything unspoken.
T'Pol lifted an eyebrow again, but didn't dispute his characteristically human lack of precision. Among these people sometimes what wasn't said was more important than what was said, which was an inefficient process but one to which she was becoming accustomed. "I was merely doing my duty, but," she inclined her head, "you are welcome, Captain."
He grinned. "Okay. I hope your meditation goes better." He hit the door control and looked back at her. "Good night, T'Pol."
She met his gaze, this strange, incomprehensible creature who had somehow become... important to her. "Good night, Captain."
The door closed behind him and she turned back to her meditation candle, still glowing brightly on the floor against the dim of her quarters. She considered it pensively for a moment before kneeling back down before it.
Perhaps there was a time when meditation only caused more problems than it cured. Perhaps she should simply accept that serving on a human ship was bound to cause changes for which she wasn't ready. Perhaps... perhaps it was enough that she had wanted him to be right without wondering why. The answers would come in their time and if this was not that time then this was not that time. It was not logical to attempt to change that which could not be changed.
T'Pol blew out the candle.
Fin