A/N: Thanks for all the support! Keep it coming!

Chapter 3

Once the seal was broken between the two ships, the Vulcan shuttle made its way down to the surface quickly. The Vulcan male who escorted the pair did not talk to either T'Pol or Trip, but did glance at them in what Trip could only assume was curiosity. Although the attempted not provide ample space between the two of them it was still apparent that there was something between the two. T'Pol's face was giving away no trace of her feelings, but Trip was picking up slight anxiety that he knew was not his own. He glanced at her quickly, and saw that she was staring at a particular spot on the floor quite intensely.

"We're approaching the landing site." The Vulcan pilot said suddenly. T'Pol looked up quickly from the spot on the floor, and exchanged a quick look with Trip. The shuttle landed a lot more gracefully than Trip was expecting, but then again, they had the same warp ring drive that most of Vulcan's starships had. The shuttle didn't just have the dinky impulse that Earth's shuttles had. Once the shuttle had come to a complete stop, they were ushered out of the shuttle. T'Pol held up her hand in the traditional hand gesture, the Vulcan male responded in kind, and then reentered the vessel, leaving Trip and T'Pol alone outside of it. Although many people were milling around, none were close enough to see Trip lean in and whisper in T'Pol's ear,

"Now what?" T'Pol slung her duffle bag farther up her arm and motioned for him to follow. She was walking at such a fast pace that he almost had to job to keep up. "Where are you goin?" he nearly yelled, as he was beginning to run out of breath. T'Pol turned suddenly, causing him to almost run into her.

"I am simply attempting to navigate through the mass of people so we may obtain transport." She turned again quickly and resumed her previous.

"Oh." He jogged again to keep up with her, and when he reached her, kept an even pace. While she looking only straight in front of her, he was looking around the many landing bases. There was an array of people, including species he had never seen before. There were several humans, both getting on and off of shuttles. Those getting on the shuttles looked sunburned and exhausted. He wondered how long they had been on Vulcan to get them to that state. He motioned towards some humans getting on one of the transports, "wonder how long they'd been on Vulcan. Looks like they're beat." T'Pol followed where he was pointing, then looked away again.

"Humans are not suited for Vulcan's environment. It was likely too warm for them here. They possibly were only here for several days before succumbing." Trip blanched at this remark. He was planning on staying on Vulcan for several years, if humans couldn't master staying on Vulcan for a few days, then he was likely screwed.

"You mean I can't stay here for more than a few days?"

"On the contrary, you stayed at my mother's home for several weeks." Trip rolled his eyes at this. He was disguised as a Vulcan male, and had been living with two other Vulcans at the time. He wasn't sure that he would have made it without the guidance of his two friends.

"That was different." If T'Pol had been human, he knew she would have rolled her eyes. They finally maneuvered their way out of the busy shuttle area, and looked around for a transport. Trip figured that it wasn't probably like on Earth where a transport was hailed down. Vulcans were too "classy" for such an act. He was correct, they stood silently holding their duffle bags in front of them waiting for a transport.

"I believe that with proper instruction, you should be able to live on Vulcan for a substantial amount of time." T'Pol said, picking up their conversation from where it had ended.

"Proper instruction from whom?" He began, the corners of his mouth began to lift. Before he could continue, a transport pulled up in front them. Their ride was here, he supposed. They lifted the back of the transport and put their belongings there. Then they got in the transport. T'Pol told the driver where to go. He couldn't help but remember the last time T'Pol took a transport. He was supposed to go with her, but had realized he couldn't abandon a mission he needed to see through. He wondered if the driver of that transport had seen T'Pol lay one on him like that. A chuckle escaped before he could contain it. Although she didn't say anything, the way her gaze lingered on his face was enough proof to him that she was remembering her last transport ride as well. He wished he could gather her into his arm and reassure her that this time she wasn't going anywhere without him. But that would be inappropriate in front of the driver, and besides, it might blow his cover. He settled for casting a wide grin in her direction, while playing the scene over in his head. He didn't know if she could see or sense it, but a sense of content settled over him, which he couldn't help but think was coming from her. They came to a gentle stop outside of T'Pol's house. As she was paying the driver, he was getting the luggage out of the trunk. Then, the transport was gone, and they were alone outside of the house. Trip felt some trepidation; he hadn't seen this house in years. And it would be the first time they'd ever been alone in it before. He reached for T'Pol's hand, and surprisingly she let him take it. Then he led her to the door and put in the codes. Together they pushed open the door.

It was a tad dusty, and dark, but as Trip's eyes began to adjust, he could tell not much else had changed. He would later check on the garden, to see if all his hard work had been for naught. T'Pol was looking around as well, soaking in her home. "So, what'cha think?" Trip asked, dropping her hand to motion to the whole house. T'Pol continued to simply stare. "Look like how you remember it?" She hesitated, and then nodded.

"Yes. It is… difficult to imagine my mother not being here…" Ah, that was it. Although T'Pol liked to act that she was over her mother's death, Trip knew she wasn't. It's one thing to lose a parent, it's another to have her die in your arms. "I believed it would become easier, over time, to deal with her death. However; it appears that assessment was incorrect." He remembered telling her it would get better over time. He was sure that it did, but still, being in your house, when it used to be your mom's, couldn't have been easy. He stepped closer to her.

"Hey, it's alright. I know it can't be easy, owning this house when it used to be your mom's. If you wanna talk about it…" T'Pol shook her head, and hoisted her bag tighter around her shoulder.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I would not like to discuss it right now." Trip put his hands up to say, alright. T'Pol nodded and then walked in the direction of the main bedroom. He picked up his bag and followed. He had stayed with her in that room the last time they had been here together, and had stayed in the room after she left. The door was still opened a little and T'Pol opened it. He followed in shortly after she did. She placed her bag on the floor next to the bed, and then sat on the bed. He waited for a moment and then did the same. Her hands were in her lap, not moving. They sat next to each other, not moving. The first time they had been alone in this room, they had engaged in intimate connections, not only physically, but almost mentally. It was probably the first time they realized they could no longer deny how serious of a connection they had. And they no longer wanted to deny the connection. That seemed like a life time ago, and yet, the bond they could both feel was proof of it.

"So… should I move my stuff into that guest house?" T'Pol looked at him sharply. "What? You haven't said anything 'bout it in a while."

"I told you, we are mates." She replied curtly. Trip could feel his tempature rising, although he couldn't exactly explain why. He jumped off the bed suddenly, his temper rising.

"And I told 'ya that I didn't know what that means! 'mate?' We aren't dogs T'Pol!" T'Pol also rose, her anger held back by her controls, but he could tell he was getting a rise out of her.

"I did not suggest we were animals. Perhaps if you looked in the Vulcan database, our mating rituals would dispel any misconceptions." She replied coolly. Trip was beginning to smirk, they were bickering, like the good ole times.

"Well maybe if you were just upfront, then I wouldn't be so damn confused!" T'Pol suddenly looked deflated, and Trip realized that he had said the wrong thing. "T'Pol…" he reached for her, but she flinched away from his gesture. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

"You did not offend me." She said stiffly, turning away from him. He reached for her shoulder, to turn her back around.

"Horse apples I didn't." she still refused to look at him. He sighed. "Look, for me, mating is what animals do. I know it's not what 'ya mean, but I can't shake the thought of that." T'Pol seemed to steady herself, then said,

"On Vulcan, a mate is what humans call "husband or wife." The marriage ceremony, such as the one that took place between myself and Koss creates a telepathic bond, and makes the pair mates." Trip looked a little confused.

"Okay… so mates are like husband and wife. We didn't go through a ceremony though." T'Pol nodded.

"That is correct. However, because the bond exists, we are considered mates." Trip looked shocked.

"Then you and I…. are basically like husband and wife." T'Pol nodded in the confirmative. "I'll be damned." He sat on the bed and pulled his hand over his mouth. "Do we have to go through a ceremony or something?" T'Pol sat down gently next to him and turned towards him.

"That would be difficult, considering you are deceased." Trip grinned. "It may prove difficult to explain how the bond still exists with a man that is dead. According to the Syrrannite tradition we are considered married. No ceremony must take place."

"But no one will know we're married." He said quietly. That would mean that other men may try to become T'Pol's mate, especially now that she was back on Vulcan.

"That is correct. However; you and I will know." He smiled. "When my time for pon farr arrives, men may try to become my mate. Of course I will refuse them. However; we must come up with an answer for how I survive." Trip shrugged.

"We'll figure that out later." He looked closely at T'Pol. "Your parents had a bond like ours." She nodded. "Well then at least I've got somethin' in comm'n with your mom." He chuckled while he was reaching for his bag still on the floor. T'Pol's eyes widened. "So, where's that guest house, you know for the gardener?" She stiffened.

"I believe we just discussed where you would be staying." Trip raised his eyebrows.

"We did?" Before he could say more than that, his arms were suddenly full or T'Pol, whose lips found his. I could get used to this. He thought, before losing himself in the moment.

A/N: So, tell me what you think! I promise much more to come. I had an idea of a story floating around for so long, and it's just pouring out. So let me know if you like it!