Chapter 35

T'Pol was a surprisingly good cook, even if all of the food was vegetarian. Trip knew that it wouldn't kill him and he did like what she was cooking. But he also knew had to eat some meat or his cravings would overwhelm her. He knew that by the end of nine days he'd be ready to kill for some of Chef's BBQ ribs or really anything. So he had thought about some alternatives before they had left and the one that came to mind almost immediately was seafood. He had checked with T'Pol and she had agreed that fish didn't fall under the 'no animal protein' rule.

It seemed that vegetarianism was mostly a cultural thing for Vulcans, rather than a biological necessity. In ancient times Vulcans had eaten meat and the reason for the change was a logical one. Meat animals on Vulcan were just as empathic as Vulcans themselves. One of the basic reasons for the philosophy of logic in the first place had been to beat into stubborn Vulcan heads that killing feeling creatures, such as their fellow Vulcans, was wrong. Fish, which wasn't a class of creature found on Vulcan, didn't have a large enough brain to actually experience anything outside of sleep, hunt and mate. And for fish those things were barely covered most of the time; at least not that any Vulcan had ever been able to tell and shellfish had even less brains.

Which was why Trip was happily grilling up the large fish he had caught this morning for lunch and T'Pol was standing out in the shallow water of the smaller of the two coves collecting some type of clam that clung to the rocks for that night's dinner. Trip found the different formations of the coves to be a source of amazement. They were situated just yards from one another and yet they were completely different. The larger cove had a perfect beach that sloped down into perfectly clear water. It was a wonderful place to swim or build sandcastles.

Trip snorted as he remembered T'Pol's look at the thought of sandcastles. She had sat next to him and obviously still wondering why any sentient being would want to, had half heartedly attempted to help him build one. Her serious face as she poked the castle with her trowel was the funniest thing he'd seen in months. When he had explained that it was the basis for the art form of sand sculptures she had understood better. It had also led to a long discussion over the various forms of sculpture produced by their different species. In the end T'Pol had admitted that she was far more comfortable as a scientist than she was as an artist. Trip had disagreed and had pointed out just how many types of art there were in the universe and just how many different degrees of artistry. He insisted that she merely hadn't found her medium yet.

Trip wrenched his mind away from the conclusion of that discussion. He didn't want to set T'Pol off while she was out in the water. He was getting better at blocking his mental wanderings from her but thoughts of sex always set her off. He was still trying to get her to understand that just because he was thinking of sex didn't necessarily mean that he wanted to have sex right that minute. He never thought that he would have to gain even more control over himself. He had thought he'd mastered that subject once he'd gotten beyond his teen years.

Trip glanced over at T'Pol. She was standing waist deep in water next to the rocky shelf of the smaller cove. The U shape of the smaller cove was lined with a rocky shelf that plunged straight down to a sandy bottom. It was covered in different types of shellfish that clung to the rocks. T'Pol was gathering enough of these for dinner. She had made significant progress on learning how to swim, enough progress that she was no longer uneasy about going into the water alone. But that did not mean that she was up for an extended swim and Trip was keeping an eye on her.

This was their last day on Risa. The next morning they were scheduled to return to Enterprise and resume their interrupted tour of exploration. As much as he had enjoyed this little vacation he was eager to get back to his ship. Both he and T'Pol were fully recovered from their various injuries and he was starting to get antsy. "What is antsy?" T'Pol asked.

Trip snorted in amusement. He was getting better but he would never be as good as T'Pol at managing random thoughts. "It's a combination of nervous energy and anticipation I guess. Antsy is a way of describing a feeling; kind of like having ants run up and down your nerves."

"That does not sound pleasant," T'Pol stated as she carried the basket of shellfish inside.

"Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't," Trip said as he followed her with the fish. "It mostly depends on what you're getting antsy about. If what's coming is a good thing it can be fun but if it's something you don't want to happen, well then it isn't fun and you just want to get it over with."

T'Pol nodded. "And you are antsy because we have been away from your engines for too long, correct?" Trip just nodded. "We'll be back in the morning. For now, we must have lunch and then clean the house for our hosts."

"Of course," Trip said. It had never even occurred to him to do otherwise.

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Back on the Enterprise Archer met with his senior officers. "I'm sure by now you've checked in with your departments and realized that something was up." It had taken him a couple of days but he had soon realized that his crew was hyped up and not just about their shore leaves.

Trip laughed, "You should hear some of the rumors that are flying around Cap."

"I wouldn't have thought that the crew would be telling you Commander," Malcolm said surprised.

"They aren't but they keep forgetting that she can hear them whispering too," Trip said with a jerk towards T'Pol. More than a few people had been whispering the rumors where T'Pol could clearly hear them.

"They are being very foolish," T'Pol said. "They know that the Captain will provide them with the answers they seek and yet they do not ask. Nor do they wait for his explanations. They instead make up ridiculous stories and tell them to each other." They could all clearly hear the disapproval in her voice.

"You did explain to her that gossip isn't logical right?" Malcolm whispered exaggeratedly to Trip. The two men snickered quietly as T'Pol looked sternly at them.

Archer grinned at their antics but put a halt to them. "Ok guys, enough with the comedy routine. There is something up." That sobered the men faster than anything else could have done. "Daniels showed up while I was on leave. The 1701's little trip into our universe has really screwed things up. His people are working on stabilizing things the best they can but they also need certain things to still happen the way they are supposed to. We need to be here," Archer showed them a star chart, "at this location in two days. Daniels couldn't tell me why; just that we needed to be exposed to certain types of information and that is the only way we can get it."

Archer looked grim. "I don't know what we're heading into. I have no idea what will happen when we get there. What I do know is that if we don't show up for whatever it is that we're supposed to find out there, the entire timeline could and will collapse."

That was enough for the senior crew of the Enterprise. They had seen enough of the Temporal Cold War and its effects on their lives. Daniels had given his life trying to keep the Suliban from altering history right in front of them. If an earlier version of him asked them to be at a certain place and time, it was the least they could do for him.

"Enterprise will get us there right on schedule," Trip promised.

"Security is already on the lookout. Whatever is out there, we'll be ready," Malcolm chimed in.

"Sensors are operating at peak efficiency," T'Pol said. "We will find whatever it is that Crewman Daniels wishes us to find."

"Well, it's not the first time we've been asked to save the universe or the timeline," Phlox entered the discussion for the first time. "We'll be ready Captain, no matter what the trouble is. From speaking to Doctor McCoy, I'm beginning to understand that it likely won't be the last either. Apparently there is something about starships named Enterprise that my people would call crisis attractors."

"Did he just call my ship a trouble magnet?" Archer asked rhetorically.

"I thought it was just the Commander," Malcolm said. Trip rolled his eyes but took the ribbing with good humor. He couldn't deny his status as a trouble magnet. If something went wrong it was very likely to happen to him. He'd come to learn how to roll with the punches that life threw him without loosing too much of his sense of humor over the subject.

"Ok people, let's go save the timeline one more time," Archer said as he stood up. The others took this as the dismissal it was and filed out ahead of him. It was time to go back to work.