T'Pol placed a cup into the resequencer, briefly glancing around the Mess Hall.
"Camomile tea," she instructed, and the drink filled the cup within seconds.
She turned and paused, once again scanning the tables in the large room. She had arrived for breakfast more than thirty minutes earlier than usual, and the Captain would not be in his private dining room for some time.
She saw the distinctive tied dark hair of Ensign Hoshi Sato, and approached the table.
"May I join you, Ensign?" T'Pol asked, and Hoshi looked up from the PADD she was reading.
"Of course, Sub-Commander," the younger woman replied with a smile, gesturing to the seat opposite.
T'Pol nodded and sat down, taking a sip of tea as Hoshi watched her expectantly.
"Have you submitted your report regarding our mission yesterday?" T'Pol asked, more due to the other woman's obvious discomfort with silence rather than any real interest in the topic.
Hoshi nodded, smiling once more. "Last night," she replied. "The mission seemed to go off without a hitch."
"Indeed," T'Pol replied, and once again an echo of the strong, troubling emotion rose up. She chose to ignore it as she continued. "It is refreshing to conclude a mission without armed conflict," she said, raising one eyebrow almost imperceptibly.
Hoshi laughed, nodding and rolling her eyes. She couldn't understand why people thought that their Vulcan first officer had no sense of humour; she clearly did, and simply chose to express it subtly.
"I think we have the Captain to thank for that," Hoshi said, drawing a further raised eyebrow from T'Pol. "I thought he handled the negotiations really well."
"The Trade Minister certainly seemed impressed with him," replied T'Pol without the slightest pause, and she was unsettled to hear a distinct note of what her human crewmates would call sarcasm in her voice.
Hoshi's eyebrows shot up for a moment, and then she giggled spontaneously.
"Oh god, I know!" she replied in a quieter but considerably more animated tone, placing both her hands flat on the table and leaning forward slightly. A solicitous grin had sprung onto her face.
"She was definitely flirting with him," Hoshi continued, and T'Pol felt the unpleasant emotion flare again, this time seemingly in the pit of her stomach. She took a measured breath before speaking.
"Do you believe the Captain reciprocated her feelings?" she asked, and Hoshi frowned, glancing down at the table for a moment as she considered the question.
"No," Hoshi replied after the briefest of pauses. "No, I don't think so."
The emotion T'Pol was feeling altered. It remained disquieting, but its nature had changed. It seemed less unpleasant, somehow. She knew it would be best to abandon this topic of conversation, but she had spoken again before she could stop herself.
"Then you do not believe the incident with his jacket was of significance?" she asked, and Hoshi looked momentarily confused.
"His jacket?" the younger woman asked, and then a look of recognition passed over her face, followed by a small smile. "Oh, that. No, that's just Captain Archer," she said. "I don't think there was anything in it."
T'Pol nodded slowly, glancing down at her tea. Her emotional state had once again altered, but this time the feeling was directed towards Ensign Sato.
Gratitude? she wondered, frowning slightly, but her mind offered neither confirmation nor denial. She looked up to see that Hoshi was looking confused once more.
"I mean, you don't think that he-" Hoshi began, but she was quickly cut off by the other woman.
"No," T'Pol said flatly, her face once again impossible to read. Hoshi nodded slowly, her smile fading.
"Because I'm sure he was just being gallant," Hoshi continued, choosing her words carefully. "He'd do the same for you or me."
She was surprised to see a slight tinge of green colour appear on the Vulcan woman's cheeks, and only with an effort managed to keep her own eyebrows from shooting up.
She was jealous? Hoshi thought, and then immediately chided herself for thinking it. T'Pol would have been the first to say that Vulcans do not experience jealousy. And yet Hoshi's instincts told her loud and clear that there was some animosity regarding the Captain lending his jacket to the female official yesterday.
Hoshi's train of thought was interrupted as T'Pol pushed her chair back from the table and stood up.
"I must prepare today's duty roster, Ensign," she said, nodding towards the younger woman. "I shall see you on the bridge shortly."
Hoshi gave a small smile and nodded as T'Pol left, unable to stop herself glancing after the departing woman.
That was weird, she thought, frowning again. It already seemed ridiculous to believe that the Sub-Commander would be experiencing jealousy, though it wouldn't be the first time that Hoshi had wondered whether there weren't some unresolved feelings between her and the Captain.
The temptation to interfere was strong, and right on cue she heard Trip's accusatory voice in her head.
Hoshi, quit with the matchmakin'! You're playin' with fire, darlin' - and one of these days you'll get burnt!
She smiled. Commander Tucker had warned her against interfering in other people's relationships on more than one occasion, and she reluctantly had to admit that it was good advice. That didn't mean she was going to take that advice, of course.
Her smile widened a little and she shook her head, pulling the PADD towards her once more.
T'Pol stepped inside her quarters and sighed with relief as the door closed behind her. This was certainly becoming a day for lack of emotional control.
She would join the Captain and Commander Tucker for breakfast shortly, but for now she required a few minutes of quiet in order to regain her calm after the conversation with Ensign Sato.
Ensign Sato likely realised the nature of my emotional response at almost the same moment I did, she thought.
She found this mildly frustrating, but then such matters were unfamiliar territory for her. Far more troubling was the fact that she had had the emotional response in the first place.
It would appear that I experienced a moment of jealousy, she thought, attempting to maintain a clinical detachment. Another side-effect of being surrounded by unchecked human emotions, no doubt.
That was at least plausibly logical, and she resolved to think no more about it. She glanced out of her cabin window and saw the reassuring streaks of light that indicated they were at warp. There was little point dwelling on the issue when the incident, and the planet on which it had occurred, was now falling further and further behind with each passing minute.
For that, she would admit to a small measure of gratitude.
Jonathan Archer paced his ready room, troubled. As was quite frequently the case, the focus of his consternation was his Vulcan first officer.
I just can't figure out what I'm supposed to have done, he thought.
She had been fine all during the mission yesterday; just her usual self. Very helpful to have along too. There didn't seem to have been any problems there.
Then she did a disappearing act after we got back to the ship, and today it's like she's... as near as she gets to being angry. With me.
He frowned, stopping in the middle of the room. He'd been thinking about this for almost an hour now, and was no further forward. The mission had been a huge success, and he thought he'd conducted himself admirably. If he was being honest, he'd been almost expecting her to congratulate him on how well the negotiations had gone.
Instead, she had been distant and uncommunicative at breakfast, scarcely making eye-contact, much less speaking. It had been uncomfortable, even when Trip finally arrived.
But not for long, since she used that as an excuse to get out of there, he recalled, somewhat bitterly.
He was sure he hadn't broken protocol or said anything unwise or offensive while they were on the planet; he was certain of it. So what had he done?
"The hell with it," he said aloud, crossing to his desk and pressing the comm button. "Archer to T'Pol; could you join me in my ready room?"
"Of course, Captain," came the response a moment later. Archer closed the channel and sighed, unconsciously straightening his uniform.
The door opened less than thirty seconds later, and T'Pol walked into the room. Archer gave her a cautious smile, which she of course did not return.
"Take a seat," he said, gesturing towards the lounge chair across from his desk. She hesitated for a moment, and then sat down.
T'Pol saw that Archer was regarding her with a pensive expression, and when he did not immediately speak she began to feel uncomfortable.
"Was there something unsatisfactory about the duty roster, Captain?" she asked carefully, but he only shook his head.
After a moment he stood up and went to the window, gazing out at the stars in silence. T'Pol was accustomed to these interludes, and sat in silence to await his next words. Almost a full minute passed before he spoke again, without turning around to face her.
"Have I done something to offend you?" he asked in a quiet voice, and she felt her stomach clench.
He has detected that my behaviour has altered, she thought. This realisation caused anxiety, for reasons which were not entirely clear.
"I... do not know what you mean," she replied, and at last he turned to look at her.
"That's not a denial," he said, and folded his arms.
"You have not offended me," she replied. "What has caused you to ask this?"
Archer sighed and gave her a look which she recognised well - it was his You know very well what I mean look. He would often use it after he had accused her of emotional behaviour and she had consequently reminded him that Vulcans did not experience emotion. Which, of course, was a significant but convenient exaggeration.
Especially today, she thought, and shifted slightly in the chair.
"You disappeared after we got back from the planet yesterday," he said, "and you've not been the same since. You hardly said a word at breakfast, and you seem... tense around me. More than usual, I mean."
He looked at her for any sign of recognition, but she only blinked. She was clearly uncomfortable, but as usual she wasn't about to admit it. He sighed again, and decided to try a different approach.
He crossed the room to stand in front of the chair T'Pol was sitting in, and crouched down in front of her, with a weak smile. He noticed with confusion that she visibly tensed up.
"If I've inadvertently done something wrong, then I apologise," he began in a kind tone, "but you're going to have to help me to figure out what it was or there's probably a good chance I'll do it again."
She knew that he was attempting to use humour to lighten the mood, and she was grateful for it, but she also once against felt the tug of the unpleasant emotion from the day before. She was suddenly aware of how close he was. Beneath the veneer of good humour, she saw that his eyes contained genuine puzzlement, and perhaps an element of hurt.
He was not attempting to return the woman's advances yesterday, she realised. In fact, she found that she could no longer understand how she could have thought so in the first place.
"I apologise, Captain," she said, seeing his eyebrows raise slightly in response. "I... did not manage to meditate with much success last night, and am slightly fatigued. That is all." With an effort, she met his eyes with a steady gaze.
He stared at her for a long moment, and she could see him searching her face. At length, he nodded and smiled.
"OK," he said, standing up and taking a step back. "If you're sure that's all it is."
"I am certain," she said, also standing up to face him.
"Why don't you take an hour to meditate now?" he said. "Things are pretty quiet. I'll sure we can manage without you for a little while."
His tone was warm, and she felt a slight flush in her cheeks. Ordinarily she would have refused his offer on principle, but with her emotions so close to the surface today it would be unwise to pass up the chance for additional meditation.
"Thank you, Captain," she said, "I believe I will do so."
"Great," he replied, and she nodded at him as she turned to leave.
"T'Pol?", he said, his voice quiet again, and she glanced back at him with one eyebrow raised in a silent question.
He stepped closer to her, and she felt her pulse quicken. Archer raised his hands and gently clasped her shoulders, and she felt another rush of warmth to her cheeks. Surely she must be visibly flushed by now? If she was, his expression gave no sign that he had seen it. She held his gaze as he looked deep into her eyes.
"You know that you can always talk to me, about anything, don't you?" he asked gently, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear despite being so close by.
She felt yet another emotion twist through her, and her gaze flicked momentarily down to his lips before meeting his eyes once more.
Archer felt a familiar pull in his chest, and for the hundredth time suppressed the urge to kiss her. Her large green eyes reflected every one of the stars streaming past the window opposite, and as her gaze flickered it took all his strength to keep himself from lifting one hand from her shoulder to caress her cheek.
Steady, Jon, he thought. It was always much more difficult to banish those thoughts when she was nearby. But that's what they had to remain: just thoughts.
She saw a note of sadness enter his eyes, and could only nod in response, but he only released her shoulders after several long moments. He seemed about to say something more, but instead simply returned the nod and then walked back over to the window.
He heard the door opening, then the sound of receding footsteps, and then the door closing. He saw only the stars.