Disclaimers, etc. in Chapter 1
Author's Note: Okay, shippers, this is where things get more interesting for you. (And thank you so much, reviewers.)
Stephen Hayes had always figured the rumors about T'Pol and Commander Tucker were the result of Amanda Cole not liking to be turned down for no good reason.
Just in case he was wrong about that, though, he'd asked Reed about it when the man had finally started working with him instead of regarding him as the greatest threat to his existence after the Xindi.
"I'm not going to say there's no attraction there," Reed had said. "They are pretty close – anyone can see that. But I don't see romance as very likely. One, she's Vulcan. Two, Commander Tucker takes his duties a lot more seriously than you might guess from his general manner."
Hayes found it peculiar that Reed, like many others in the crew, still referred to Tucker in present tense. And duty seemed an unlikely reason for Tucker to turn down Cole, who wasn't even in his chain of command. Besides, Hayes had never seen Archer raise the slightest concern about fraternization even among people who were, even when they held hands right in front of him! It wasn't just Archer, either. In the wake of Earth's destruction, the crew had begun to pair up pretty frantically, and T'Pol had not said a single word to discourage it. "I don't suppose it matters, now, anyway," he said.
Reed's tone turned distinctly frosty. "Let's not give up on Commander Tucker yet, please, Major."
"No, of course not, Lieutenant." Perhaps this touching but irrational faith that they would someday reunite with Mr. Tucker was somehow helping the crew to cope with all their other losses, or the uncertainty of their current situation. Or maybe it was some strange hangover from that bizarre episode with the clone.
Hayes just hoped they wouldn't all fall apart when they finally arrived at North Star if the engineer was nowhere to be found.
x x x
When they entered orbit, T'Pol had been in the captain's chair – or pacing around it – for hours. Hayes had been cross-training with Reed on Tactical, and casually stayed on the bridge even after his training session ended. Fortunately, their CO appeared too distracted to ask him what he was doing on the bridge off-duty. After weeks and weeks of tediously dodging anomalies, he didn't want to miss this.
T'Pol crisply requested scans of the settlements.
"I'm not seeing any significant change," Baird at the science console told her. "Approximately 6,100 Humans, almost 1,000 Skagarans."
"Commander!" Sato said. "I'm reading Commander Tucker's communicator!"
T'Pol stood up and stared at the communications officer.
Everyone in turn stared at T'Pol, waiting for the expected command.
Finger poised, Sato finally asked, "Shall I hail him?"
"Are we certain it's him?" Reed said, and looked at Baird. "Is there anyone with him?"
Everyone looked over at Baird, who zeroed in on the location. "The bio-sign is Human," he said. "But there are also a number of…" He frowned and did a little adjusting, then looked up, clearly bemused. "Horses."
"It's the middle of the night down there," Sato said. "That's kind of an odd situation in which to be sleeping."
"I believe I am familiar with the location," T'Pol said calmly, but Hayes noticed that her hands had tightened into near-fists at her side. "Perhaps Commander Tucker traded his communicator for the use of a horse. Major Hayes, gather a small team and join me at the transporter. Lieutenant Reed, you have the con."
x x x
They materialized in a dark cavernous room that smelled strongly of horses, horse piss, horse crap, and hay, smells that vividly reminded Stephen of his horse-crazy Aunt Margie – gone now, along with everything else on Earth. Equine whinnies greeted them.
Hayes hurried to keep up with T'Pol as she turned decisively on her heel and headed for the last stall, her flash light illuminating the way. Once there, she pulled open the rustic wooden gate and shined her light on a man who had just begun to rise from a blanket on a bed of hay. A couple of barn cats crouched and stared, their eyes eerily glowing, before slinking into the dark.
The man shielded his face. "What the-?"
"Trip," she said softly, surprising Hayes with her informality. She redirected her light towards the floor, but there was enough still bouncing around that Hayes could see the man's mouth fall open in stunned recognition.
"T'Pol?" He leapt up. "For real?" Tucker's hair was long and mussed with sleep. He was sporting perhaps a week's growth of facial hair and his clothing consisted of a wrinkled undershirt and a pair of slightly-too-short brown pants that must both have been native to the settlement. His feet were bare.
"Yes, for real," she said, and subtly inclined her head back towards Hayes.
If that had been a warning to Tucker that they were not alone, it went unheeded. Grinning broadly, he ran to their CO, picked her right off the ground in a tight hug, and buried his head in her neck.
To Hayes' astonishment, the Vulcan not only accepted this embrace, but wrapped her own arms around him in return.
Embarrassed, Hayes backed out of the stall and checked that his men had taken their perimeter stations as expected. And yes, of course, they were exactly where they were supposed to be.
He looked back. Those two were still entangled. He turned his back and doggedly monitored his scanner for any nearby movement.
So had Reed been covering for his colleagues or had he simply not known?
"Earth?" he heard Tucker ask, and then, "T'Pol?"
Tucker would not have known yet, of course. Hayes felt a lump rise to his own throat, helplessly reminded of the moment he'd first received that terrible news.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Everyone?" Tucker's voice was thin and stunned. "The whole planet?"
"It's a cloud of debris," she said, which struck Hayes as unnecessarily brutal. "The colonies were also attacked, but with more conventional weapons. Shran was unsure of the survivor count, but there are some."
There was silence.
"I grieve with thee," she added.
More silence. Hayes checked. Yep, still in each other's arms.
Another minute passed. His men glanced his way. This simple retrieval operation was taking too long. He decided to engage in a little strategic throat clearing.
"Are you quite all right, Major?" T'Pol asked. She extricated herself from Tucker, who bent down and started pulling on a rustic pair of socks, then some rather battered-looking Starfleet-issue boots.
"I'm fine, Ma'am," Hayes said.
Tucker straightened up. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what about the cap'n? The ship? Everyone else?"
T'Pol said, "Captain Archer is on the Kumari with Commander Shran, presumably still attempting to disable the sphere network. Enterprise is in orbit. The crew has not suffered any further losses." She pointed at the small collection of possessions neatly stacked next to his bed of hay: a book, a hat, and next to it, his Starfleet uniform and a harmonica. "You got it back?"
"Tom didn't really have the knack." Tucker shrugged on a striped shirt that had been hanging on a nail and quickly buttoned it up. He picked up the small instrument and shoved it in a pocket. "I sure hope you used your nasal inhibitor today. Bath day isn't until tomorrow."
"You are somewhat aromatic," she said, to which Tucker smiled grimly. "I imagine you are eager to return to Enterprise."
"You imagine right," Tucker said, but he also scratched his head and looked around anxiously. "How long before dawn?"
Hayes checked his scanner. "Two and a half hours."
Tucker sighed. "Okay. Let me rouse Tom, and then I can go."
Hayes and T'Pol both stared at him. "Why would you wish to delay your departure?" she asked.
"I can't just walk off the job. Horses need to eat. Horses can also can get stolen."
"Can you 'rouse Tom' without alerting him or the rest of the town to our presence?" To Hayes' ears, T'Pol sounded a bit testy.
"Yeah, sure," he said. "Stay here. I'll be right back." He put on the hat and jacket that were hanging on the wall, struck a match to light an oil lamp, and said, "You might want to keep that light down. Anyone who sees that blue glow will know something strange is going on in here."
Hayes stared after the man as he exited out the back. T'Pol reduced the power on her light to a faint glow and stared after him, too.
"Shall I have Chang shadow him?" Hayes asked her softly.
"I would hope the commander can survive the local conditions for ten more minutes," she said, and walked back into the stall Trip had been sleeping in. She sat down on the blanket stretched across the bed of hay and looked around. A kitten blundered out of the shadows, meowing for attention, and rubbed itself against her legs; T'Pol just stared down at it.
"Not exactly officer's quarters," Hayes commented.
"No," she said. Ignoring the persistent kitten, she reached over for Tucker's folded Enterprise uniform and drew it onto her lap.
"I didn't realize that you and the commander…"
"I don't believe that the commander and I necessarily realized either, Major." She compulsively smoothed the worn blue fabric of his uniform. "Please update Lieutenant Reed on our status and ask him to stand by with the transporter."
"Ma'am," he said, and moved away. He assumed she was referring to the mission's status rather than her relationship status, and reported in to Reed accordingly. He was going to enjoy correcting him about the commanders' obvious intimacy at some point soon, though.
As he concluded the conversation he glanced back and noticed that T'Pol had lifted the man's uniform up to her nose and was smelling it.
She must have really missed him. Hayes had already gotten a whiff of unwashed engineer and thanked his lucky stars that they were transporting up instead of taking a shuttle pod.
x x x
Trip blinked as the transporter alcove sparkled into view around him.
Had Enterprise always been this cramped?
Alex was operating the transporter – and grinning hugely. "Welcome home, boss!"
Trip headed towards him to give him a hug, but Phlox's voice over the speaker interrupted. "Commander Tucker, please refrain from close contact with crewmen until I have cleared all of you through decon."
"And hello to you, too, Doc," Trip said, and turned to look a little apologetically at T'Pol. He shouldn't have hugged her, obviously. "Sorry."
She merely lifted an eyebrow. "We should adjourn to decon," she said. "Crewman Rodriguez, I believe that now includes you as well."
"It'll be a little party," Trip said a little sourly, then raised his voice. "I feel fine, Phlox!"
"I'm glad to hear it, Commander," Phlox's voice came back. "And welcome home. But let me be the judge of whether you've picked up anything interesting and potentially contagious since we last saw you, hmm?"
"I wanna see my engines," Trip grumbled, but comforted himself that he wanted to see T'Pol stripped down to her undies even more, and decon might just mean that. Not that he had exactly hoped to share that experience with three MACOs and an engineering crewman.
"I would think you might be looking forward to the chance to take a shower, sir," Hayes said.
"Oh bless me, hot running water," he said, with reverence. He'd forgotten in all the excitement that decon was equipped with showers! Hell, Enterprise could also provide him with clean underwear and socks and a fresh uniform, even a new pair of boots – and it would all be free!
He sighed happily. What, after all, was a little delay in decon?
x x x
"Oh bless me?" T'Pol thought. She'd never heard Trip use that construction before. Apparently he had picked up some local mannerisms. It was clear that he had assimilated somewhat to the culture of the planet. As they prepared to leave, his hand had hovered uncertainly over a book and a carved flute of some kind. "I should probably leave those here," he'd said, but sounded rather regretful. "Are we leaving orbit right away?"
"No," T'Pol had said. "We have much to discuss."
"I'm sure I have a lot of catching up to do," Trip had said, and smiled easily at her.
T'Pol was surprised at how cheerfully he seemed to be coping with the loss of his entire planet and almost everyone he'd ever known on it.
Waiting for them at the window in decon, Phlox demanded blood samples from all of them, then let Trip go back to get his shower. This news drew expressions of relief from the other men, though T'Pol personally didn't see what they found so offensive. It was rather odd that they would be so affected when she was not.
Then again, she was by now quite exquisitely aware not only that she had developed a certain preference for the engineer's person, but that his long absence had done nothing at all to weaken this. Indeed, there was nothing she would like better at the moment than to slip back into the showers and more thoroughly reacquaint herself with his person.
That would, of course, constitute a complete and utter abdication of her responsibilities, so she did nothing of the kind.
They waited for Phlox to run his tests. Hayes was already working on his report. He and his men obviously hoped to be cleared without having to go through all the usual tedious precautions. North Star was, after all, familiar territory.
Phlox returned and opened the window. "Did any of you have close contact with Commander Tucker or any of the local fauna?" he asked.
Hayes turned and looked expectantly at her.
"I had some moderately close contact with Commander Tucker," she reported stiffly.
"And a cat," Hayes reminded her.
"The cat merely had some minor contact with my uniform," she said. Really, Major Hayes could be rather officious at times.
Phlox said, "I see. The rest of you can go, but T'Pol, you will need to run through the standard precautions. Mr. Tucker has managed to pick up a few things that I'd just as soon didn't get the opportunity to spread any further. Fortunately, they are not particularly virulent."
The others left with a whoosh of pressurized air. T'Pol could still hear Trip's shower going. He was staying in there quite long, but that was perhaps understandable. "Doctor, you do realize that we hope to establish a base on this planet?"
"Yes, and I'll be requiring prophylactic immunizations for the entire crew," Phlox said. "It's actually rather fortunate that I have Commander Tucker to guide me in what kind of exposures to expect. For now, I've prepared a nice little cocktail for the commander against the various nasties he's picked up. As long as your blood work remains clear, all you will need is the inoculation I'm passing over. I would recommend sterilizing your clothing and getting a shower too. And try to avoid further close contact with Commander Tucker for the time being, hmm?"
"For how long?"
Phlox gave her one of his unnervingly large grins. "Long enough for me to examine him. I see you're glad to have him back."
She didn't say anything. Clearly, she had already said enough. She administered her hypospray to herself, set Tucker's aside, and went back to take her shower, resolutely heading to her own curtained stall instead of the engineer's.
She efficiently disposed of her uniform and soaped and shampooed and rinsed, the basic precautions. When she turned her water off, she realized that Trip was still in his shower. The room was billowing with steam.
Even with the accumulated grime of the planet, surely he was staying in too long?
"Trip?" she called. The tiny showers in decon were curtained for privacy but that was it.
He didn't answer.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she walked across to his shower and stood outside the curtain. "Trip!"
Still no answer.
She pulled the curtain back. Trip was leaning against the wall, under the water. His shoulders were heaving.
T'Pol stared, and quickly came to a decision. Phlox could lecture her about it later he wished. She went in, turned off the water, and pulled her mate into her arms.
To be continued