NX-01 Enterprise

Earth orbit

After a few twists and turns they arrived at the Conference Room on Deck E. Archer preceded them through the door, jabbing a finger at the table when they entered behind him.

"Have a seat." He said.

Naturally, the two sat completely apart. On opposite sides of the table, across from one another. It didn't take a professional counselor to read that.

He moved to the head of the table, where he had clear line of sight on both of them. And they on him.

"First, let me remind you that I have a speech to deliver before the entire delegation at Starfleet Command in six hours." Archer began. "A speech I still have yet to prepare for. So I'm not going to appreciate it if I have to drag this out."

Archer folded his arms in front him. A defensive posture, he knew. But let's reinforce the 'shut up and listen' part of this.

"I've seen both of you grow quite a lot over the last four years." He said. "It wasn't that long ago Trip, that you shared my…lack of appreciation for Vulcans."

Trip glanced furtively over at T'Pol at that. But she didn't meet his eye.

"And I remember your opinion of us wasn't all that better, T'Pol." Archer pointed out, causing her to glance, despite herself, over at Trip. He didn't look back either.

"I've seen you both change your opinion of one another's species." Archer said. "And your opinions of each other as well. In less than a year I had an Executive Officer and Chief Engineer that worked well together. Enough that I was proud to have both of them on my ship."

With a slight pause, to emphasize his next statement…

"And I've noticed a few other things that I suspect neither of you knew I had. Things I'm not supposed to know."

"Number one." He said, taking a deep breath.

"I know that this neuro-pressure treatment Phlox recommended for you, Trip, was nothing more than our good Doctor taking advantage of the situation to play matchmaker." Archer said. "I think we're all aware of Denobulan boundaries when it comes to…romance. They haven't got any. So I don't believe for one second that neither of you considered there might be some other way to accomplish the same thing that didn't involve half-naked Vulcan massage therapy."

Both of them opened their mouths to object then…but he was ready for it.

"Be quiet!" He snapped. "This is not a discussion!"

Jaws snapped shut at the table.

Good. He was going to have to remember that phrase. It had proven effective two for two so far.

"Now maybe the two of you are too pig-headed to recognize what you were doing but I wasn't. Nor was anyone else on this ship." Archer pointed out. "I'm sure you're both aware that scuttlebutt began circulating rumors about the two of you behaving in a manner unbecoming that same week. It wasn't the neuro-pressure that convinced everyone, it was the two of you both going along with it!"

Pausing only long enough to glare properly one good time at each of them, he kept his momentum going.

"Number two." He said. "For this one we'll skip all the other gossip regarding you two up to this point. A certain 'morning after' conversation…in the middle of the Mess Hall…comes to mind. But I think another Enterprise coming along, captained by your son, speaks for itself! By that point even I would have said if Enterprise had been cut off from Earth and we were all forced into that same situation…the two of you would have stumbled all over yourselves to get a room!"

Trip was beginning to grit his teeth at that point…and sweat a little. And T'Pol was looking, in an odd enough twist on the phrase, rather green.

So, yes, he was yelling at them. But the situation warranted it, he was certain. They should feel lucky he wasn't smacking them around the place.

"By that time everyone on the ship had every reason to believe the two of you were a couple." Archer said, tightly. "There wasn't any question. We all knew it. But we didn't talk about it. Because there are certain regulations we all have to be aware of….everyone except the two of you, apparently, considering you decided to run off to Vulcan together on leave!"

Archer began pacing then. "That's when I was first faced with the prospect of having to call the two of you into this room and have this conversation! Because that's not the sort of thing that goes unnoticed. Not on this ship, not at Starfleet Command and not even with the civilian press!"

Not surprisingly, neither of them were looking anywhere near each other then, Archer noted.

"Except the strangest thing happened then." He continued. "Trip comes back alone and T'Pol returns days later. And the marital status on her personnel file suddenly changes. And it's not Trip's name on that form, either. So you can imagine I found all of this a little confusing. Especially when your relationship didn't seem to have changed at all. I was sure then that I'd been wrong all along. That you two really were just good friends."

"Which brings us to 'number three'." Archer said, folding his arms again and staring the two down. He could tell they both knew exactly what was coming.

"After watching your…'good friendship' devolve into constant bickering over a five month period…even after T'Pol's marital status changed again out of the blue…my Chief Engineer suddenly requests a transfer to the Columbia."

"Which didn't puzzle me as much as you seemed to assume, Trip." He said. "I knew the moment you made the request why you were making it. And I'm more than a little disappointed you wouldn't admit to it."

"Now I could go on to number four, where Trip suddenly returns again, in no hurry to leave." Archer shrugged. "Or five, the transfer request he put in, back to the Enterprise days before that. Or six, seven or eight and so on! But I think you're getting the point. You haven't fooled anyone. In fact, I'd guess I knew more about your relationship than the two of you did most of the time!"

"And that brings us to just a few days ago." Archer said. "Where no one on this ship has any idea what the nature of your relationship is. Which would be ideal, in regards to the regulations I mentioned, except that it apparently includes the two of you!"

"What I saw in Sickbay shouldn't have surprised me." He said. "After everything the two of you have been through over the last three days and the last few months, I should have expected at least one of you would…react badly. But the fact is that the current situation just doesn't allow for it. Considering Doctor Phlox hasn't paged any of us since we got here suggests his current prognosis is still in effect. And that leaves the two of you with a baby you have to decide what to do with."

He paused for a moment then. He'd made it through all that without allowing any argument or back talk, so he could tone it down a bit now as he approached the point of it all.

"So I'm going to speak to both of you as someone who used to be friends with both of you." Archer said, allowing some small amount of care to show through this time. "Then I'm going to speak to you as your Captain."

"First, as a friend." He said. "Get your damned act together. Figure out what kind of relationship you're going to have and have it. Friends, lovers, fellow officers, I don't care. But settle this. At least enough to sit down and decide what you're going to do about that baby. And whatever that is, I think you can count on all of us to be there for you."

"Now, as your Captain." He said, sternly. "I don't want to know what kind of relationship you two have. And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop bringing it to my attention. I prefer to be able to answer honestly that I have no idea, should the question ever be put to me. All I need to know is that my two senior officers have a reliable, strong, very professional working relationship. Anything other than that is and will remain beyond my comprehension."

Archer stared at them both for a while.

They didn't have anything to say, which would normally have just irritated him. But for this situation…it was ideal.

"I'm going to go prepare for that conference. You two are going to stay in this room until you come to an agreement on those two points. What exactly your relationship is and what you're going to do about that baby. Then you can go to Sickbay, assuming that's where you both intend to go. And when I get back…we're all going to sit down together and figure out how to make that happen, whatever it is you've both decided on."

"Otherwise…if you fail to come to an agreement…and if I don't see a complete reversal in your professional relationship as senior officers…then I'm going to be forced to start asking questions about your personal relationship. Asking as your Captain. And as Starfleet Officers, I will expect you to answer those questions honestly and without reservation, fully prepared to accept the consequences that result."

"Now, are there any questions?" Archer asked. He already knew there wouldn't be, though.

After a moment, he nodded. "Good. Then I'll see you both when I get back."


As the Captain left the room, Trip was more than a little relieved. The last couple of hours had already provided just about all the overwhelming stress he could handle for the week anyway. And despite the fact the he'd spent most of the time yelling at the two of them pretty darned harshly, he'd still had trouble focusing on Jonathan's latest tirade for worrying about Elizabeth. It had made him more than a little irritated having to deal with all this right now.

But he was right, of course. They were well overdue for settling a few things between them. And the baby left them no room to avoid doing so any more…

And he knew T'Pol well enough to know that allowing her to get the ball rolling was a terrible idea. Who knows what she'd come up with.

He cleared his throat. "Okay…" He said. Then found himself scrambling mentally for something to toss out there…

"Look, I'm sorry about how I acted in Sickbay." He said, figuring that'd be a good place to start. "I…was irrational, you're right. A little…but…I'm sorry." He said.

Then he smiled, chuckling lightly. "In fact, it's probably best you knocked me out like that. I might have embarrassed myself or something."

T'Pol was silent for a little longer than he'd have liked, still staring straight ahead. As if the Captain were still on a tear and she continued to wait patiently for it to wind down. So maybe self-deprecating humor wasn't going to be very helpful with drawing her out a bit...

She sighed quietly then, turning to face him finally. "Trip…" She said, uncertainly. "I appreciate the admission. But I still think I…overreacted. Though I don't know what else I could have done."

She took another breath.

"I am finding it difficult to adjust to our bond." She admitted. "It continues to…I have no experience with being mated and it continues to elicit…behavior that I am unprepared for."

He decided to move carefully now. If she were stumbling over her words here then that was usually a good sign she was about to take to her feet and starting running.

"Well, whatever the Captain says I think we've been getting along pretty well the last few weeks." He suggested. "A lot better than we have the last few months. But…he's right about…I think we have to talk about what kind of relationship we're trying to have here. And…T'Pol, the baby, Elizabeth…that changes everything."

She nodded tiredly. "Yes, it does."

"Okay." He said. "Why don't…look, let's just lay our cards on the table here."

He ran his hand over his face, already frustrated, no idea where to start…except…

Well, yeah. She was probably going to end up getting all emotional and running down the corridor anyway, so…

"When I was on the Columbia…" He said, hesitantly. "I finally realized…I finally realized that I'd been chasing you around all this time and not getting anywhere. I wasn't ever going to get what…we just weren't ever going to have…that kind of relationship. So I just gave up on it. And…came back to Enterprise and stopped..."

He sighed, dropping his hand to the table with a slight smack. He was already frustrated. He was really terrible at this.

"You implied that we would work on our relationship." T'Pol said. Almost accusing.

It took him a second to put the pieces together there…

"You mean, in the corridor that time?" He asked.

She nodded. "Yes. You said, 'I guess we have a lot of…'"

"I know what I said." He interrupted, frowning. "I said, 'we'. Together, both of us. Instead of me chasing you all over the ship."

She frowned at that. "I object to your characterization." She said. "I don't think…"

"You can object all you like, T'Pol." He said, firmly. "I'm telling you how I felt and what I was thinking."

It was quiet for a moment. Trip waiting for her to respond and she trying to decide how to.

"Trip." She said. "I will tell you what I am thinking."

He frowned. She'd nicely edited 'feeling' out of there. But he listened anyway.

"I do not know how to…I have never been bonded...mate bonded...and I no longer have an example of this to refer to." She said, her voice almost trembling. Which put all of Trip's senses on alert.

"My parents are gone. And there are no other bonded couples I can look to for insight." She said. "And you are not Vulcan. I am still unsure how to…"

A light suddenly went off in Trip's head. A big glaring one. A flare bright enough to make him twitch a bit.

"Wait…wait a minute…" He said, his eyes closed. Trying to flail about and grasp at whatever had just lit up his brain.

"…I'm not Vulcan." He said at last, teetering on the brink of revelation. "What if I was?"

T'Pol stared at him. "What?"

"What if I was Vulcan?" He asked. "What then?"

T'Pol considered for a moment, not sure what the point of that was.

"We would not be having this conversation." She said. Obviously.

"What would we be doing, then?" He insisted, pressing the point.

She frowned a bit. This was entirely irrelevant. "We would likely be in Sickbay, caring for Elizabeth."

"Then what?" He asked quickly.

T'Pol thought about that for a moment. Her obscenely intimate behavior in Sickbay hours ago immediately came to mind. Quite strongly to mind, in fact. They would most probably be doing that again…

But at the flutter in her stomach in response to that idea, she shoved it out of mind quickly.

"I suppose…once Elizabeth's care had been seen to…" She hesitated. "We would retire and…rest. We would meditate together. And then discuss her health and…the impact all of this would have on our service to Starfleet. To determine the most logical response to the situation."

"In our quarters?" He asked.

"Of course." She said. They certainly wouldn't be discussing such things in the corridor, after all.

"We don't share quarters, T'Pol." He pointed out.

She started to respond…but something about that didn't seem quite right. She began searching for where exactly the two points diverged…

"So because I'm Human…" Trip offered. "We aren't taking care of Elizabeth, resting in our quarters and having logical discussions about things."

Racing ahead she realized just what she had implied. In point of fact, what she had confirmed. And found she was unwilling to examine that any more closely at the moment. Not at all.

So she changed the subject.

"And if I were Human, how would you respond differently?" She challenged.

"We wouldn't be having this conversation." He said.

She nodded, justified.

"Because there'd be nothing to discuss." He added.

Which didn't make any sense to her. "What do you mean?"

"T'Pol, if you were Human…then the morning we…" He hesitated then. "When you called the whole thing an 'experiment', I would have…"

"The word I used was 'exploration'." She corrected. "'Experiment' was your description."

"Well, whatever." He said. "The fact is I wouldn't have had anything else to do with you. In fact, you'd probably be a lot happier today. We'd have had a perfectly Vulcan relationship after that. I figured you just weren't…"

"What do you mean 'Vulcan relationship'?" She asked. Clearly offended.

"I mean we'd get along about as well as you and Mayweather do." He said. "Or you and Hoshi. Or Malcolm. You'd probably be closer to the Captain. We sure wouldn't be bonded. And Terra Prime sure would have never picked us for their little…whatever that was supposed to be..."

T'Pol flinched. Had he just…? He couldn't possibly…?

She stood up, cutting him off.

"This conversation is over." She said, glaring furiously at him. And stomped for the door.

Trip sighed. "Captain said we…"

"I don't care!" She snapped.

And she was out the door and gone.


Trip leapt for the door and darted through, hot on her heels…

…just in time to see her exit one of those heels and perform the most amazing faceplant he'd ever seen. Right in the middle of the corridor.

One shoe spinning insanely off into the air, as if shot from a cannon, to strike the ceiling with a 'pop'!

Face down, sliding at least half her length…both feet, one shod and one not, snapping back behind her…nearly touching her head…!

She even 'oofed'. Loudly.

And then she just lay there.

Face down in the carpeting, only one shoe on, her arms splayed out at an odd angle...

She's out cold! He thought. Alarm, like an icy bolt of lightning, struck him clear through at the realization.

But when he dived, almost bodily, to her side to care for her…he found she was still conscious after all. Staring at the floor beside her. As if she had simply lain down to examine the fabric more closely.

"T'Pol…?" He ventured.

And she looked up at him. As calm and centered as he'd ever seen her.

He offered his hand, which she accepted, helping her to sit up. But she let go sooner than he would have preferred, reaching to retrieve the errant shoe.

As she replaced it, fastening the clasp that had come undone, she spoke at last.

"I am fine, Commander." She said.

"T'Pol…you just fell pretty hard…" He said, awkwardly.

"I am fine." She assured, standing up again.

As he rose himself she spoke further.

"The Captain has ordered us to come to an agreement." She noted. "I believe that is not possible. So I will offer my terms."

Trip frowned, worried. "Your terms?" He said. "T'Pol…look, maybe we should go sit down…"

"We will work together to care for Elizabeth." She said, ignoring his interruption. "And at the first available opportunity I will return to Vulcan to have our bond severed. Once that is done…"

"Wait, what?" Trip exclaimed. "What are you talking about?"

"After that…" She continued. "We will meet again to discuss custody of the child. I do not believe it will be necessary…"

"Custody?"

"I do not believe it will be necessary to involve legal services." She continued, unabated. Calm, maddeningly rational.

Trip just stared. Amazed. Confused.

And angry. He was beginning to get very angry.

"T'Pol." He warned. "Don't you dare…"

"You are becoming emotional." She observed. "We will discuss this further at another time, when you have collected yourself."

"We will discuss this now!" Trip insisted, grabbing her arm.

With a raised eyebrow she looked down at his hand before meeting his eye again.

"Commander Tucker, if you do not remove your hand I will forced to remove it for you."

Something inside him snapped then. Something very cold.

He let go.

And let go of the snarl disfiguring his face as well.

Let go of every-damned-thing else while he was at it.

"Fine." He said, coldly. "I suppose we're done then."

She observed him for a long moment…then nodded succinctly.

"Good evening, Commander."

And she walked away. Leaving Trip hard and bitter in the corridor behind her.

For the last time.