—Chapter 1—
"Morning, Captain," said Trip, as he entered the Captain's Mess.
"Good morning, Trip," said captain Archer.
"Commander," said T'Pol, with a slight nod of her head.
"How is my little Vulcan princess this morning?" said Trip with a grim smile towards the SubCommander. "We doing ok, SubCommander? Did you sleep all right?"
I should learn to let things go, thought Trip, but he was still annoyed over last night's argument with T'Pol.
He'd had to work late last night, supervising a tricky job in Engineering and T'Pol had come to his office, food in hand, so they'd eaten a late dinner in his office. She'd come in order to discuss some theoretical suggestions on how to goose up engine performance during their meal. She'd laid out her case logically, quoted some recently published Vulcan studies in warp field mechanics and no doubt expected him to kowtow to her superior Vulcan intellect. But he was a better engineer than she imagined herself to be, and he'd read the same studies the day they came out, which clearly surprised T'Pol. When he'd politely pointed out the problems with adapting these findings to the Enterprises' engines, he expected T'Pol to agree with him, because she was sharp enough to understand the mechanics of the issue.
Instead, she all but called him a fool, in the politest of words, then seemingly went out of her way to bait him into a fight, even when he held on to his temper and logically pointed out the problems in question from a different angle, reasoning that perhaps he had not been clear enough in his first explanation. However, that approach only increased T'Pol's efforts to bait him into an argument, and when he'd had enough of T'Pol attitude, he'd obliged the Vulcan in a display that brought Engineering to a standstill. He was winning too, despite T'Pol verbose responses to his concise verbal jabs, until his eyes were drawn to the SubCommander's plump lips, as she slowly bit her lower lip. He'd always found the Vulcan attractive, but this was the first time he'd spaced out while looking at her, and it was a clearly a tactical mistake, because he immediately lost track of the argument and T'Pol rolled right over him. Worst of all, before she'd left Engineering he'd seen a victorious look in her eyes, a look he didn't understand. She'd won her share of arguments before, no reason to take such pleasure in this particular one.
Hell, I'll never understand Vulcans, thought Trip.
"I am just fine, Commander Tucker," said T'Pol, in a voice that was just shy of a purr, "and I slept quite well, thank you for asking."
Behind her mask of Vulcan serenity, T'Pol was quite pleased. That Commander Tucker had come out 'guns blazing', so to speak, first thing in the morning, proved beyond doubt that he'd acknowledged her victory last night, if only to himself. She should feel ashamed for provoking the man so mercilessly, for he'd been correct in his technical appraisal of the theoretical suggestions and improvements she'd brought to his attention, but truthfully, she found the man fascinating. Where other Vulcans anger was a cold thing, a thing of sarcasm, clipped words and short sentences, for they would be ashamed to display anything remotely emotional, Commander Tucker's anger was hot, and alive, and intoxicating, and most wonderful of all, completely without rancor, like a sudden summer storm, quickly roused, and quickly passing in order to let the sun shine forth once more. Some flaw in her character enjoyed provoking an emotional reaction out of the Commander, and she wondered, simply out of idle curiosity, if such passion would be just as intoxicating during the Commander's mating time… or even more so. She blushed now at that thought, though neither captain nor commander noticed that fact, and wondered why her thoughts should run in that direction. She would have to meditate on the matter. She'd also have to meditate on the pleasure she took from the fact that Commander Tucker was driven to distraction by her, for she'd bit her lip on purpose, having read of it in a Human book, and seen it recommended as a way of flirting with a man. That it had worked so well to derail and distract the Commander meant he had at least a slight sexual interest in her, no?
The captain's steward stepped up to take the commander's breakfast order, and Archer took the opportunity to grin at T'Pol, and say, "I heard the two of you had a hell of an argument last night. One enterprising engineer even recorded the whole thing and posted it on the ship's net. I'm getting some popcorn after my shift is over and settling in for a good show. Forty-seven minutes, you guys went at it."
"You should take up a hobby, Captain," said T'Pol. "You would find it much more interesting than my arguments with Commander Tucker."
"I don't think I would, SubCommander. What's this make, like your thousandth fight?"
"One thousand and one," said Trip, turning his attention to the discussion at hand. "So, what's up, Captain? The last thing I want to see first thing in the morning is that busted up mug of yours. You look like shit this morning, sir."
Archer chuckled, and said, "I couldn't sleep 'till right before dawn, so I watched water polo matches all night long."
"No kidding?" said Trip. "I was up half the night myself, 'cause of the way T'Pol aggravated the hell out of me."
It must have been tricky to pull off a smug look, given a Vulcan's cultural restrictions on displaying emotions, but T'Pol managed it somehow.
Still, she must have felt at least a twinge of guilt at being the cause of the commander's loss of sleep, for she said, "Next time I have that effect on you, Commander, get in touch with me. I can press a few neural points on your neck and back in order to make you sleepy, through the use of Vulcan neuro-pressure."
"Yeah, I'll do that, T'Pol," said Trip, shooting a suspicious look in T'Pol's direction for she had not made that same offer to the captain, before turning his attention back to Jon. "Anyway, if I'd known you were awake, Captain, I'd have joined you."
"We'll have to work out some kind of a system for such occasions," said Archer. "Anyway, this is a working breakfast, Trip. The Enterprise has been contacted, through StarFleet HQ, and invited to pay a visit to Krios Prime, for the coronation of the First Monarch, Kaitaama, and then invited to take a shore leave there. Her people are curious about Humans, so we'll be on our best behavior."
Trip smiled at the thought of seeing Kaitaama again, though he hid it well, behind his napkin. Hid it well enough to pass the captain's scrutiny, but not T'Pol's. The SubCommander gave a slight frown.
"Really?" said Trip. "Are we taking them up on the invitation?"
"StarFleet insists on it," said the captain. "The diplomats are angling for the chance to open formal relations between Earth and Krios Prime, and StarFleet is eager to discuss the construction of a StarBase in that sector eventually, as our fleet grows. So, we make a stop on Vulcan, to pick up one of our diplomats from our embassy, then we're off to Krios Prime."
"I see," said Trip.
"How do you feel about that, Trip?" said Jon.
The captain grinned, for it was widely suspected that Trip and the princess had consummated their, ah, 'friendship', though Trip, man of discretion that he was, neither confirmed nor denied the rumors, for he believed that would only keep the narrative going on much longer than ignoring the questions.
"I will do my duty for Earth, and the Fleet, in the interests of diplomacy," said Trip, raising his glass of milk. "To the future First Monarch of Krios Prime."
"Really, Commander Tucker? Duty to Earth and the Fleet," said T'Pol, displeased for some reason at these developments, and refusing to toast the object of the Commander's perverted desires. "Your willingness to visit Krios Prime is motivated solely by such noble sentiments?"
"What else, T'Pol?" said Trip, an utterly innocent look on his face, a look which fooled the Vulcan not in the least.