Title: Lullabies
Author: JennaTripped
Rating: G
Pairing: T/T
Summary: Pure fluff, and don't ask for a sequel. :-P
A/N: This is by far the cheesiest fic I've ever written. But hopefully it will counter some of the god-awful angst of reality. If you hate it, don't tell me. I'm fragile like that. :-P
T'Pol paced around the room, her movements measured, precise, and the path well-worn. She closed her eyes and hugged the crying infant in her arms to her chest. T'Pol had learned within days of her daughter's birth that the baby would not be calmed through usual Vulcan methods; which, she freely admitted, were supremely logical but not very practical. T'Mir craved physical reassurance. She wished to be hugged. And yet, every night T'Pol still tried the Vulcan ways first.
As soon as T'Mir was settled against her chest and her cries had been downgraded to quiet whimpers, T'Pol allowed herself a relieved sigh and sat down in the rocking chair Trip and Commander Reed had constructed. T'Pol did not like the contraption. She trusted Trip that it was stable, but the motion of the chair was unpleasant to her. Of course, this meant her daughter loved it. In fact, she would not sleep until she had been adequately rocked. T'Pol tolerated it, because it pained her to see her child so distressed. She pushed against the ground with her feet to move the chair, and snuggled T'Mir closer.
She began to sing softly, in Vulcan, and did not stop when she heard her husband's footsteps approaching the door.
Trip heard T'Pol's voice drifting musically from his daughter's room when he opened the door. He grinned, tossed his jacket over the back of the couch, and climbed the stairs. He paused at the door and watched T'Pol snuggling the tiny baby in her arms. T'Mir's little fist was stuck halfway in her mouth and she was sucking it loudly.
Trip listened to the words of T'Pol's lullaby and nearly laughed. At the sound, T'Pol stopped singing and looked up at him, disapproval etched across her features. He made himself stop smiling, but humor still danced behind his eyes.
She stood and walked over to him and let him enfold both her and T'Mir into an embrace.
"Is something amusing?"
He laughed. "You're singing our daughter a lullaby about scary emotions?"
"No. It is a lullaby about the dangers of the loss of emotional control. I assure, you it will not frighten her."
"Well, I know... she doesn't exactly understand words yet, T'Pol." He enjoyed another moment of fun at her expression and then relented. "I think it's sweet."
"She enjoys the sound of your voice more..."
Trip smiled gently and lifted his sleeping daughter out of T'Pol's arms and settled her into her crib. He placed a soft kiss on her downy head before turning back to T'Pol and hugging her close.
"She likes your smell more..." He nuzzled her ear.
"She prefers that you bathe her..." Her fingers played with the hair at the back of his head.
"She always wants you to feed her..." Trip laced his fingers through hers and kissed her hand.
"She calms more easily with you..." T'Pol looked up at him.
"T'Pol, she laughs for you..." Trip leaned down and kissed her warmly.
"Trip, she loves you."
"I know. I love you too."
The End
