Elaine recovered from her shock quickly enough. Quickly enough to be notable, in fact.
But if the things she suspected of these two were even remotely accurate, then perhaps that was not surprising.
Charles glared, not with anger but with simple, stark intensity. She was holding a deadly weapon, after all, confronting them with it in their kitchen. A matter best served with respectful awareness.
Elaine spoke first, surprisingly.
She sighed, as much to release some measure of the tension that suddenly ruled her, but obviously with no small amount of resignation as well.
"So what do you think you have there, T'Pol?" She asked, evenly.
T'Pol raised the blade in her hand, considering it.
"A Vulcan knife." She said. "Thresh-rasahk, specifically, I am certain. An ancient ceremonial weapon, supposedly dedicated to slaying e'shua mazhiv. Sand demons."
Charles just nodded at that.
"I bet that'd be worth a lot of money, if it was authentic." He said, carefully.
"It is." T'Pol affirmed. "I had it appraised while you were away."
She looked back and forth between then, at their surprise.
"I took pictures." She explained, seeing the unspoken question on their faces. "I believed at first that you may be dealing with rare weapons or various artifacts of that nature. That you may be dealing in such items illegally, in fact."
"And who says we aren't?" Charles countered.
"I read the journal." She said. "The one you keep in the bedside table, along with the ballistic pistol with the silver bullets and the psychotronic projector. An electromagnetic weapon that is itself exceedingly rare, as well as being illegal to possess…"
"Alright then, let's start with your poking around where don't have a right to, T'Pol…" Charles said, getting angry now.
"Charles." Elaine said, quietly.
"No." He said, sharply, folding his arms now. "Let's start there."
"I have been tasked with caring for and protecting Charles the Third." T'Pol pointed out.
"And that's what this is about?"
"In part." She said. "But I have come to care more for this family than perhaps I should have allowed myself to. You have become more than associates to me, as you accurately noted earlier."
That at least silenced him for a moment, cooling his anger a little.
"I have come to care for this family." T'Pol continued. "And you have become family to me, at least as much as that is possible without…certain uniquely Vulcan connections that normally bind a family together. But the contents of the journal suggest that you are either both insane or at the very least involved in activities that are perilous and illegal."
"Things it would best if you didn't know about, T'Pol." Elaine suggested.
"But now I do." T'Pol countered. "And I am concerned for Charles the Third. You have made two supposed business trips since his birth, leaving him with only myself and a Human adolescent to protect him from the consequences of your actions. Should those consequences follow you home, as you spoke of prior to my entering the kitchen, and I am to protect him in such an instance, then I must know what exactly threatens…"
"No." Charles said. "You don't need to know that."
"I do." T'Pol insisted. "Of course I do."
"No, because you're not going to be here anymore."
That stifled her now. Because what it suggested was not at all what she'd expected here.
"I…of course must…"
"I think it's time for you to go, T'Pol."
"Charles." Elaine said, suddenly pleading.
"No." He said, firmly. "I'm sorry it has to be like this, but it's for the best."
"That is not reasonable." T'Pol argued. "I am already well invested in the infant's safety and have already formed an attachment to this family. I am the logical choice to protect him in your absence. And to provide whatever support I may to you as well. All that I require is the assurance that your…business is ethically justifiable, so that I may do so without betraying logic."
"And we've formed an attachment to you, too, T'Pol." Charles said, a little less harshly now. "Like we said, you're family. But that's why we can't bring you into this. I'm sorry but I'm afraid you'll have to go."
Elaine turned her face away and sighed painfully. And T'Pol could see tears just beginning to suggest themselves there.
So already she'd lost any possible support from Mrs. Tucker before the discussion had barely begun. And Charles was obviously taking a firm position at the outset.
"Let's reason through this matter together, Mr. Tucker…" She began.
"No, I've said my piece." Charles said, with a dreadful air of finality. "You can stay the night and we'll contact the exchange program in the morning. They'll find you another family you can help out with or set you up with a place of your own…"
"And if I contact the authorities, informing them of the things I've become aware of?"
"You won't." Elaine said, quietly.
T'Pol turned to consider her for a moment.
Because…no, she wouldn't. But that didn't necessarily render it an ineffective bargaining point…
"It would be logical to do so, lacking even the attempt to assure me your 'business' is justifiable…"
"You won't." Elaine said again, more confidently now.
T'Pol took a deep breath, suddenly finding herself scrambling for an argument.
She'd obviously made the simple mistake of assuming reason and logic would avail her now. With Humans.
"There remains the issue of Charles the Third. He will have no one reliable to care for him…"
"We'll be staying to home for a while." Charles said.
"Mr. Tucker, I believe you should consider…
"We're done talking here, T'Pol."
And…
That was that. She was suddenly quite firmly certain…the discussion was already over.
They would not listen to reason, nor would they deign to illuminate her on what she'd discovered. Not even to reassure her of the infant's safety.
"You have already made your decision." T'Pol reasoned. "Even before tonight."
"Yes, we did." Charles said. "I didn't want to go like this but…yeah, we've already made our decision here, T'Pol."
"It is not a logical decision."
"It's the right one."
T'Pol left the bundle of unusual weapons in the kitchen, as it had clearly been established that it was not her concern.
She went immediately to her studies and gave them her full attention for the next two hours, even deflecting Elaine's attempt to engage her in discussion a short time later.
She meditated for another hour, as that was required. And she showered before leaving her room again, passing the Tuckers in the hallway and politely wishing them adequate rest, as they were going to bed then.
She made her rounds, checking the locks and security system, turning off unused lights. Making certain no electrical devices were left on or even plugged in, as that would nonetheless use power and increase the electric bill unnecessarily.
And she stood at the rear patio door, gazing out on the woods behind the house while she contemplated the situation.
It was indeed unfortunate and she was significantly concerned for the family's safety.
She had not only failed to convince them to cease their dangerous and illegal activities, but she failed even to convince them to avail themselves of her support. She had never even been granted the opportunity to examine the situation critically with them.
Humans were far too often illogical and to a distressful degree. She had forgotten to account for that.
There was little that she could reasonably do here. And even contacting the authorities…however logical that might be on the one hand, the prospect of tearing this family apart in that manner was simply unacceptable. Even the thought of it was deeply disturbing.
Charles the Third would be taken away from his parents, most certainly. And at an age where such a thing would have lasting repercussions, perhaps even effecting his ability to connect emotionally with others as an adult. Something T'Pol was well aware was crucial for Humans.
The statistics were clear on that point. It would impact his studies as an adolescent to a marked degree. He would be three times more likely to exhibit serious behavioral problems as well. Twice as likely to suffer depression or even attempt suicide. Gang recruitment, brushes with the justice system if not outright criminal activity and correctional rehabilitation, increased likelihood of habitual violent behavior, higher likelihood of divorce when he eventually mated…the long term effects were all well documented and very distressing.
It was simply not an option.
And she could not betray this family to begin with. They had long become k'war'mah'khon, perhaps not genetically related nor bonded to her, but family in every other way that mattered.
They had opened their home to her when she came to Earth, having afforded herself of the exchange program to receive an education conducive to future service with the Vulcan Space Program. And not merely opened their home, but opened their hearts as well. Accepted her fully, even taking the time and effort required to understanding her people, so that they could more fully understand her. Doing that at a time when few on Earth found the Vulcan people especially agreeable.
They had supported her when her mother passed away unexpectedly on Vulcan. And suddenly left with no immediate family any longer…no bonds to support her at all…they had still managed to make it possible for her to stay and continue her studies here. The environment they provided had proven every bit as supporting and accepting, much more so to be honest, than any of the distant relatives on Vulcan could hope to offer her, even granted the benefit of any vague and scarcely perceptible familial bond they might have claimed.
She'd stayed, because this had become her family. Because she had a place here.
But no longer, it would seem.
And she accepted that.
It was hard and it was difficult, but she was an adult and had been for some time, whatever her appearance to Human eyes. She was quite aware that life was not fair and that the universe cared nothing for your concerns.
So she accepted it and began turning her mind toward how best to respond. Where to go from here. Whether to relocate to the Vulcan Compound in the city and perhaps transfer to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the spring.
Perhaps…even returning to Vulcan.
She contemplated these matters for two hours, standing at the rear patio door, gazing out on the woods behind the house. And she made her decisions in that regard, as much as they might not be preferable to her.
Then she returned to her room and slept for the required three hours, so that she could rise again early, conduct her daily exercise regimen and prepare the morning meal for the family. Something no longer required of her as a guest, but something she continued to find gratifying.
So she was sleeping only lightly at 2400 hours and she woke easily when Charles the Third grew restless then.
Elaine met her in the hall, so she immediately altered her course. Heading down the hallway toward the stairs, to go to the kitchen on the first floor.
Elaine rubbed her eyes sleepily.
"He's probably hungry." She mumbled after her. "Can you fetch a bottle…?"
She stopped and chuckled when she realized T'Pol was already on the way to do that.
"I will." T'Pol affirmed. But she paused at the head of the stairs.
"Mrs. Tucker." She said, stopping the woman at the door to the nursery. "It is now zero hour and two minutes, August 21st. Charles the Third is six months old today."
Elaine smiled that. "Yeah, I was thinking about that yesterday. Think we should bake him a cake or something?"
T'Pol waited politely. Until Elaine was able to realize…no, they wouldn't be baking him a cake.
It was no longer her place to participate in such things, of course.
Elaine was quickly dismayed, realizing why she stared and said nothing. But T'Pol cut her off before she could engage in any form of emotional resolution, as that was entirely unnecessary.
"There is a bottle prepared in the refrigerator." T'Pol said. "One of the blue glowing models, which he typically prefers at night. I will bring that one to you."
And she left to do so immediately, heading down the stairs briskly before Elaine could say anything further.
Elaine hesitated a moment longer, more than a little unsteady. Realizing…
T'Pol would be leaving them. And maybe…
Well, let's be honest. There were times where she wasn't exactly a big fan of having a very cutely pointy eared young girl running around the house in those little thermal catsuits she seemed to prefer. And never mind how deceptively not a young girl she was to begin with. She was technically a couple of years older than she was and a hell of a lot smarter.
So, yes, some part of her would be relieved to see her go.
But mostly not. Not at all and not in any way.
She had become a part of the family. Probably…if you wanted to get right down to it…probably one of only two parts of this that were still…pure. Still good.
T'Pol and little Trip. They were really all that she and Charles had anymore. The only things they had to live for.
And they had to let T'Pol go.
Bad enough on its own. But what it suggested and what it illustrated quite perfectly about little Trip…
Things were going to have to change now. Because they had a child now and the couldn't afford the risks they'd embraced so comfortably before.
Elaine sighed, accepting that as much as she could having been woken at midnight by a fussy baby. And she entered the nursery.
Finding, to her quiet angst, that Charles had apparently risen quietly and beat them both to it. Not in the bathroom, as she'd assumed when she got up and found him gone a minute ago. So the last minute or so of having suffered so much discomfort on so many levels had rather been wasted.
Elaine snorted a little though.
"You know," She said, quietly, to the man standing in the dark over the crib. "If you were gonna get up, you could have let me know so I could go back to sleep."
Charles said nothing. He stood quietly in the dark, hovering slightly over the crib. Trip safely in his arms, judging from the way his shoulders were set.
So…maybe he was having a daddy moment there. And that was fine. She'd leave him to it and maybe kiss his face a bit when he got back to bed.
Elaine left quietly, closing the door behind her, and walked softly to the stairs, meeting T'Pol on the way up. Glowing blue baby bottle in hand, already warmed to precisely the correct temperature, of course.
"Charles is taking care of him." Elaine smiled. "Take him the bottle, if you don't mind. I'm going to get him a snack from…"
"Mr. Tucker is in the kitchen." T'Pol said, uncertainly.
Elaine's brow furrowed at that. But…
"No, he's in the nursery…"
T'Pol pointed back down the stairs, toward the kitchen.
"I just spoke with him there." She said. "He is preparing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to eat before returning to bed."
Elaine stared for only a moment…then, to T'Pol's surprise, her eyes flew open wide and she was suddenly running back up the stairs again, taking the steps two at a time.
Panicked, apparently. Which T'Pol found curious.
Had something occurred with the infant…?
T'Pol followed immediately. Quickly, in case there really was some cause for concern. But not running, nor taking the steps two at a time. Simply moving with a more reasonable degree of haste.
And so she barely exited the stairwell when Elaine began to scream from within the nursery.
