Three: Perception.
"T'Pol?" Trip enquired as a slither of light from the open door hit his closed eyes, illuminating the otherwise dim room. Just how he knew dark shadow against the pink of his still closed lids was Enterprises resident Vulcan, he'd never be able to tell. Somehow, he just knew T'Pol had sought him out after his confrontation with the Captain. Tongue plastered to the roof of his mouth, Tucker realised his lips were moving, but no sound emerged. "Honest to God, I don't have the energy to move," he complained, suddenly aware of the cold, hard floor beneath the right side of his body.
"I am in your mind," she responded. Moving towards the prostrate man, T'Pol's superior Vulcan strength proved necessary to force Trip into a sitting position. Surprised the telepathic communication between them required only the lightest physical touch, her hand moved automatically to the Commanders face. Fingers shaking with apprehension and desperation, she initiated the meld forcing his out of control emotions to quiet. As his bleary eyes finally opened in wonderment, she encouraged Trip to stand while guiding him to the bunk. Striping Commander Tucker to his lauded underwear, T'Pol pushed Trip to lay in a comfortable position on his bed. "I wish to attempt the Vulcan art of Neuropressure. It will help relax your body and mind."
"Oh," Trip's thoughts, still a maelstrom of misery, felt soft hands begin stroking his neck before working their way down his back. Shivering slightly at the discrepancy between warm hands and cool air, Tucker relaxed into the calming motions.
Mental walls that started construction with the meld, increased in strength with each new stroke, separating the negative responses enveloping his mind form his usual positive outlook. Each time T'Pol moved lower, pausing over a new vertebra, his tension released slightly and Trip's thoughts became less chaotic. The ramification of this incident with the Vissian's would remain with him forever. However, his emotions receded to place he could visit, dividing them into manageable amounts, allowing his morality and ethics to sorted through the consequence of his actions and how to best deal with them.
"Sleep," T`Pol suggested in a low tone as she approached the small of his back and the band of his boxer shorts.
"Sound's good to me," Trip mumbled, unaware the entire conversation occurred in his mind. Within seconds, Commander Tucker gave into the darkness beckoning him.
T'Pol looked down at her mate, wondering how she would explain their bond. Trip stirred, reacting to the loss of contact, both physical and telepathic. Understanding he would need her touch to deepen the conection, any conversation between them would have to wait until Commander Tucker regained his mental equilibrium. Reaching over to the communications panel above his bunk, the First Officer touched the white button.
"T'Pol to Sickbay," her voice did not betray the emotions caused by Trip's mind within her own, nor the effects of the retreating Pa'nar syndrome.
"Phlox," came the overly optimistic doctor's greeting.
"You are required in Commander Tuckers quarters," she reported. "I suggest you bring a sedative."
"On my way," Phlox responded, heading for his supplies and packing his doctor's 'on call' bag.
The short journey allowed the Denobulan to speculate on the reason for the summons. He'd been privy to Commander Tucker's ideas about the cogenitor over the last three days. Captain Archer requested to see the data on the young woman's neural scans this morning. With the ships gossip running wild, Phlox was coming to his own conclusions. More than aware of the Engineers penchant of trouble, and sticking his nose, not to mention fingers, were they would not be well received, it took Subcommander T'Pol less than ten seconds to bring the doctor up to speed on current events and their sequalae. Applying the hypospray and treating the issue at hand, the good natured Denobulan turned his attention on the slightly agitated Frist Officer.
"That," Phlox stated simply, "explains Mr. Tucker's medical concerns, but not your presence in his quarters, or indeed how you found him so quickly."
Raising an eyebrow, T'Pol understood little escaped the doctor's attention. Like Vulcan's, Denobulan's were a very long-lived race and surprisingly logical when they wished to be. Many had participated in the medical exchange programme set up by the Vulcan High Command. Indeed, Phlox had practiced medicine on her homeworld for several years before transferring to Earth.
When the Subcommander continued to glare, Phlox began formulate a theory based on his observation of the relationship between the two senior members of Enterprises command team. "Tell me, why were you seated on Commander Tucker's bed when I first entered? I was led to believe Vulcan's reserve touch for those they are intimately acquainted with, such as a parent or bondmate."
Nose flaring, T'Pol forced calm on her mind. Allowing that eyebrow to rise, she stated, "you are correct, Doctor."
"Am I to gather," Phlox approached the subject with an unusual amount of tact, "Mr. Tucker was the individual whose opinion you sought with respect to your…personal problems in the past?"
"Indeed," T'pol answered. If she were human, she would sigh. Still, Phlox's enquiring blue eyes and knowing smile forced the words she'd rather not speak. "I have only become aware of the bond with this incident, although I suspect it formed on our first mission."
"Ah," the doctor made the sound, indicating he understood more subtext within the conversation. "Why sedate him, when your continued presence would be most effective?"
"I have not yet completed my duty shift," T'Pol stated disdainfully. "There is also the small matter of a standing order to dine with the Captain each night. If I am correct, Captain Archer will wish to discuss the results of the Vissian situation with his First Officer. Regretfully, I must inform him of these developments and how they will affect Commander Tucker, myself and out continued working relationship."
"With Mr. Tuckers frequent trips to sickbay," Phlox smirked, "I would say you have four hours at most until the sedative wears off, to accomplish your mission. Please come and see me tomorrow. I believe we have much to discuss as this is the first Vulcan/Human relationship. The Commander will need to be informed of Vulcan mating rituals and their consequences. Unless the bond can be terminated."
"It cannot," T'Pol almost sighed. "I was forced to meld with…Trip and solidify the bond, such was his emotional turmoil over the death of the cogenitor. His chaotic thoughts required silencing if my own repression system was to remain intact."
"I suspect the Pa'nar is partly responsible for your loss of logic and stability, allowing the Commander unintentionally into your mind," Phlox speculated.
"As do I, Doctor," T'Pol tone stated he had been dismissed. "As I suspect our meld has cure me of the disease," she whispered.
"Intriguing," Phlox stated to himself as he repacked his medical kit. "A rather unique cure, if I may say so, but, in true Vulcan sentiment, logical."
Checking Trip as Phlox let himself out of the cabin, T'Pol knew she could delay her discussion with Captain Archer no longer. Turning her back on the peacefully sleeping man, she needed to tackle the Captain within the privacy of his ready room. Commander Tucker had a saying, about approaching a lion in its den.