Reference: The Voltaire quote that Jonathan refers to, can be found in the second to the last paragraph in ch. 9. It is as follows: 'Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses.'
Ch 10 Setting Up Camp On The River Denial
A contented smile spread across Jonathan Archer's face. He was having a wonderful dream. He was back on Enterprise and T'Pol filled his arms and his mind. This was the best dream he'd had since the Klingons had taken him into custody. It was unbelievable, but he could feel the gentle touch of her relaxed thoughts as she slept. They spoke to him of things he had only imagined in the past, and others that he had only hoped for. To further pull him from reality, it felt as if her hair brushed against his cheek, and the scent of lemon and spice that he always associated with her, filled his nostrils.
The sensible part of his sleep drugged mind knew that soon guards would wake him with rough shouts, and another day of work and cold in the mines of Rura Penthe would begin; but for the moment he lay surrounded by sensations, floating in that foggy time between sleep and awake.
"Mornin' Doc." Trip Tucker came whistling into Sickbay. The engineer's voice floated through the room.
Archer's eyes flew open. He really was back on Enterprise. It hadn't been a dream he realized, as he listened to his friend chatting with the Doctor. Malcolm really had snuck into the mines, to help him escape out from under the watchful eye of the Klingon Empire. It had been a risky plan that had been formulated by the woman who had fallen asleep with her head tucked under his chin. From the ruckus Trip was raising on the other side of the privacy drapes, Jonathan figured they had about three minutes before the Engineer came bounding in.
"T'Pol," her name formed on his lips and slipped through his mind. He hated to disturb her sleep, but he knew she wouldn't want them to be discovered curled together like a pretzel on his bed, even if they were almost sitting against the bulkhead. "Wake up." He whispered in her ear, and gave in to the urge to caress her cheek, when he remembered how she'd run her finger over his still unshaven beard, hours earlier.
As he looked down, clear green eyes opened. In less than a second he saw them fill with pleasure, then confusion, and finally shock. T'Pol blinked and all emotion was shuttered behind a blank stare. Her body stiffened and pulled away from his, while her silent protest echoed through his mind and then it was gone. The warm sensation of her mental presence was replaced by cool emptiness. He was alone, where a moment ago…. a moment ago, what? He didn't understand what had happened, but he knew he had to battle back a wave of loneliness that swept across him, where before he had been filled with a feeling of completeness he'd never experienced. But time was running out, he was going to have to save his questions for later.
"Shhhh…" He placed a finger over her lips before she could speak. Then nodded his head in the direction of the argument between Trip and Phlox, which was taking place on the other side of the curtain that separated them from the rest of Sickbay. It was evident the Doctor was trying to give them privacy, but was losing the battle with the engineer.
T'Pol looked around and quickly assessed the situation. She realized that she couldn't get past the men, and out of Sickbay. Unless something was done quickly, she and Jonathan were going to get caught in a compromising situation. For once her ironclad mind refused to move beyond the here and now to formulate a plan to play down the intimacy of their position.
Archer tapped her on the shoulder then pointed toward the chair beside them. She moved quickly and quietly off the bed. As he slid deeper beneath the covers, his arm snaked out and pushed her head down beside him, and a conspiratorial grin flashed across his features, at her expression of doubt. With luck it would appear as if she had fallen asleep with her head leaning against his bed, while keeping him company.
Seconds later Commander Tucker and Dr. Phlox walked through the curtains and found what appeared to be the Captain and the First Officer sound asleep. Archer flat on his back in bed, and T'Pol slumped in a chair with her head on her hands, using the edge of the bed for support.
"She been in here all night?" Trip whispered as he and Phlox moved quietly out of the sleeping area, not wanting to wake the two sleeping people. He didn't understand how anyone could've slept in that position, but then T'Pol had been awake for days. He supposed even Vulcans gave out sooner or later.
"She came in at about 0300, just as I was waking Captain Archer, but when I checked on him later, that chair was empty." Phlox shrugged as he neatly skirted the truth. When he'd realized that an hour had passed, and she still hadn't left, he'd gone back into the Captain's bay to send T'Pol to her quarters. Her lack of rest had begun to show and he'd been worried about her. When he'd found them asleep, slumped in Archers bed, holding tightly to one another, he'd let the peace and contentment on their faces overrule his better judgment.
"She was mighty worried about the Cap'n." Trip looked over his shoulder at the closed drapes then at Phlox, hoping for more information. Something didn't feel right.
"We all were. Now if you'll excuse me, Commander I have a patient to see to." The Doctor smiled and moved behind the curtain. When he was sure Tucker had left Sickbay, he whispered, "Captain, Sub-Commander, the coast is clear." As two pairs of green eyes opened, he smiled and shook his head.
"Phlox, we appreciate your discretion." Archer sat up and reached for T'Pol's wrist, to stop her, as she inched away from the bed, and toward the curtain. "Not so fast, Sub-Commander." His eyes bore into hers. "If you'll excuse us, Doctor?"
"Captain, you have five minutes." The Denobulan warned, but from the look of determination on their faces, he doubted anything would get settled in that amount of time.
"Are you going to tell me what that was?" Jonathan watched T'Pol carefully. Her cheeks had darkened, in what he thought of as a green-blooded version of a blush, though she appeared cool, calm, and collected in every other way.
"I must have been more tired than I had anticipated." She stood straight with her hands neatly behind her back; thankful he was not touching her anymore. "I apologize for falling asleep in such an unusual and inappropriate position." Her brow rose to underscore her disapproval.
"Damnit all, that's not what I'm talking about, and you know it." His frustration mounted as she attempted to stare him down. "I could feel your thoughts."
"That is impossible, you must have been dreaming." She gave him the same skeptical look she did when he talked about time travel. "Now if you will excuse me, I have duties to perform."
"T'Pol, wait, come back here." It wasn't until his feet hit the deck that Jonathan remembered he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. "Come back here!" But he found himself shouting at swaying curtains. The only hint that she'd been there was the slight scent of lemon and spice that drifted through the air. "Damnit, that's an order, Sub-Commander!"
Phlox heard the Captain's shouts from his office, and came around the corner in time to see T'Pol's back, as she charged out of Sickbay. It caught him by surprise when she stopped and almost stumbled at the sound of Archer's voice. Her right hand shot out to grip the wall for momentary support, before she righted herself and slipped silently out.
"Too late, Captain, she's gone." Both men knew that she had heard him, but neither knew what to do about it, nor were they about to acknowledge it to the other.
"Where the hell did you put my pants?" Archer sat on the edge of the bed with a sheet across his lap, long muscular legs reached to the floor and his body coiled to spring.
"I sincerely hope someone burned them." The Doctor grimaced in disgust. "They smelled like you'd been bedded down with the targs."
"I've got to get out of here." Jonathan stood and grabbed for the corner of the sheet.
"Not so fast. I haven't released you from Sickbay yet?" Dr. Phlox glared at the expanse of exposed hairy flesh. "Now get back in that bed."
"But…"
"Do not argue with me, Captain. I am aware of Star Fleet's regulation that allows a doctor to outrank even an admiral, when the occasion arises." The Doctor paced beside the bed, not sure how to broach the topic on his mind.
"I'm fine and you know it." Archer glared, but sat down and leaned against the bulkhead, a sheet thrown hastily across his middle, his only concession to modesty. "How soon are you going to release me?"
"All in good time." Phlox rocked on the balls of his feet as he checked the monitors over his patient's bed, and decided the situation called for the direct approach. "Captain, you do remember that T'Pol is Vulcan?"
"It's something that's rather hard to forget." Jonathan gritted his teeth, as he glared at the man who watched him with unwavering eyes.
"Good, because no matter what happens, she's never going to react exactly as you expect. She isn't a Human female and won't respond like one." The Doctor's words hung heavily between them.
"I know," Archer sighed as he gave into the confused and doubt that had begun when T'Pol had marched out of Sickbay. "I've been telling myself that for a long time now."
"It's something worth remembering. I'd hate to see either of you get hurt." Phlox smiled as he handed Archer the bundle of clothes Commander Tucker had brought for him on his visit. "You're free to go, but I'm restricting you to light duty for the next twenty-four hours." He turned to leave then thought better of it. He hadn't been completely fair to the man. "She was very worried when you were taken away. She hid it well, but it was evident all the same."
"What did she?…Never mind." Archer shook his head. As much as he wanted to know how it had been for her, it was important that he hear it from her, or not at all.
"Just be careful, Captain, if you're successful in waking the sleeping emotions of a Vulcan, be very sure you understand the consequences." The Denobian nodded as he watched the younger man absorb his words, then turned and left him alone with his thoughts.
…………………
T'Pol took deep even breaths trying to find her center, and calm the raging sea of turmoil that kept splintering her thoughts. Flashes of memory mixed with dreams wove in and out of her mind. What had happened? Had she really let down her guard, or had it been another dream? She was certain, that when she had slept, her mental shields had fallen, but had her mind rested against Jonathan's? To have it happen at all was unthinkable; to have it happen with a Human was unbelievable.
As she stared into the leaping flames of her meditation candle, she carefully dissected what had happened. She had fallen asleep leaning against Jonathan… Captain Archer, she amended. It was a fact she could not dispute, and it had happened twice before. Again, something that was indisputable. Once had been after they had apprehended Menos, and then again the night before she faced the hearing of Vulcan physicians when her Pa'nar Syndrome had been discovered.
She looked carefully for any commonality in the occurrences, and could only come up with two. Each times, she had gone without meditation and sleep for a number of days. The logical answer was to maintain a normal Vulcan sleep regimen, and adhere strictly to her meditation schedule. That should assure that she would never put herself in a vulnerable position again.
But that still left the matter of what had transpired between them upon waking that morning. 'It was the dreams,' she nodded to herself, 'like the dreams that had begun when I had fought the Wisp for control of my mind.' What little she could remember of them centered on Jonathan…Captain Archer, she corrected. 'This was just another one of them.'
Sitting back, she looked at the situation logically. Archer was Human; therefore he lacked the mental powers to have touched her mind. Therefore, it was an impossibility. Even when they had meditated together, she had felt his presence in a physical way, because his hands had been resting on hers, and their knees had been touching, but that was all. It had been the strength of her trust in him that had helped her break through what was left of the memory lock from P'Jem, and nothing more. After all, the Vulcan Science Directorate stated that a Human's psyche was immature and hardly able to control his own emotions, let alone breach a disciplined mind such as hers.
Her mental shields had been down, due to exhaustion, so it was possible she had picked up his presence as she slept. That in turn gave rise to another of the odd dreams. But it had simply been the physical closeness of another person on waking, which had made Jonathan think he had felt her thoughts. Nothing more than that had happened! Everything was clear and simple, when approached with Vulcan logic. It was unfortunate the Humans chose not to embrace it.
………………….
Enterprise stayed at tactical alert until they'd put a significant cushion between them and the Klingon Empire. Though it was no joking matter, a number of the crew had begun calling it the Neutral Zone. Hoshi was kept busy monitoring all frequencies for anything out of the ordinary and Malcolm drove his team nearly crazy with upgrades to the tracking systems. He'd hoped to find a way to detect cloaked ships before they were within striking distance, but no matter how many simulations he ran, nothing proved successful.
The crew's quiet elation was a bit unnerving. Everyone was happy to have the Captain back, but most weren't sure how it had happened. They all seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, but as time passed, with no sign of the Klingons, and even Lt. Reed went back to working his normal eight-hour shift, everyone breathed a sign of relief
From her station at communications, Hoshi shook her head in sorrow as she watched T'Pol withdraw more each day, until she was as stiff and unfriendly as she'd been when she'd first joined the crew. The young Ensign's eyes strayed to the captain's chair where Archer sat in silent contemplation. Since his rescue from Rura Penthe, he'd become terse and broody. She wished she could chalk both their reactions up to stress caused by the Captain's capture. That was something that would fade over time, but she was afraid that it was something much more than that; something personal and private that had happened between the two officers. If that were the case, Hoshi was afraid it was never going to go away.
"Captain, you've got a message from Admiral Forrest." Sato looked up from her board with a smile on her face. It looked like some things were back to normal. Star Fleet had been keeping communications with them to a minimum, since T'Pol had put them under a blackout, after leaving Narenda III.
"I'll take it in my office." He snapped. "The bridge is yours Sub-Commander."
………………..
While Archer waited for the signal to be routed through, he tried to shake the feeling of loss that had been growing since the morning T'Pol has walked out on him in Sickbay. As the days had passed, he realized his mind must've been playing tricks on him that morning. He couldn't have felt T'Pol in his head and in his thoughts the way he'd believed he had on waking. He'd wanted to tell her that on more than one occasion, but she'd closed him out completely. They'd become friends over the last eighteen months and she was carefully and concisely closing every door they'd worked so hard to open, and it made no sense. "Damnit," he whispered as he threw down the stylus to his hand computer. "We'd become more than friends."
"Sorry, Captain, I had to reboot the signal." Ensign Sato chirped over the COM unit. "I've got Admiral Forrest back for you."
"Thanks, Hoshi, put him through." The Captain pulled his thoughts back to business where they belonged.
"Jonathan, you're looking much better than the last time we spoke." Forrest smiled, he'd chosen the right person for the job, Archer seemed to have more lives than a cat.
"I'm feeling much better." Jonathan forced a smile on his face. "Is this a social call, or do you have news for me."
"A bit of both." Forrest cut to the heart of the matter. "We haven't heard anything from the Klingons, but according to Soval, we won't. He believes it's a matter of honor for them, and they'll never publicly admit you escaped."
"So that leaves us where?" Archer frowned. He'd hoped that it would never be noticed that he was missing, but he doubted they were that careless. The idea of having to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder didn't appeal to him.
"Earth is playing a waiting game, as if you're still a prisoner."
"Will the Vulcans go along with it?" Archer knew that both Earth and Vulcan had been applying pressure through diplomatic channels.
"Soval had little choice." Forrest laughed when he remembered his confrontation with the elderly Vulcan ambassador. "It was obvious that Sub-Commander T'Pol had engineered the escape using contacts she'd made when she worked for him. That's one hell of a women you've got there, Jonathan."
"Yeah…." He nodded; as a flash of possessiveness gripped him, only to be followed by the sure knowledge that one did not possess a Vulcan, one joined with them on life's journey, but there was no ownership involved. It wasn't until much later that he wondered how he'd come by that knowledge.
"On to the good news." The older man's face lit up the monitor, oblivious to the younger's response. "The telescopes on Mir V have picked up something very interesting. One of the planets in the Omicron system has shifted its orbit."
"That's about 30 light years behind us." Archer quickly did the calculations and estimated the amount of time it would take to get there.
"True," Forrest grinned. "But it's 30 light years away from Klingon space."
"That in itself makes the trip worthwhile." Jonathan had been worried that he'd have to give up Enterprise and return to Earth, if he were to stay safe, without endangering his ship. It appeared that it wasn't a worry shared by Star Fleet.
"I thought you'd appreciate that aspect of the assignment." The Admiral's eyes lit with anticipation, and a bit of envy at what he could only experience as a spectator, from a desk in San Francisco. "I'm having the full details sent to your science station. It should be a real show. If the planet follows the computer-projected path, it'll be pulled between two gas giants. The scientists in the observatory on the space station are predicting a huge fire works display, as the core is superheated, causing volcanoes to erupt over most of the planet's surface."
"We'll do our best to see that you're entertained." His mood lifted at the thought of the new assignment. This is what he'd come out here to do, explore and make friends with other races, not constantly defend his right to be there and fight with almost everyone who came along.
"I'll be looking forward to your report." Admiral Forrest turned serious when he thought about the tightrope Archer was walking. "Jonathan, be careful."
Enterprise hummed with life. The new assignment meant they were getting back to work! Everyone looked forward to the project, because it meant they weren't hiding and trying to look busy, anymore. They were busy.
The ship made a quick stop along the way to allow Ensign Mayweather shore leave on his family's freighter the Horizon. His father had recently died and this was the first time the two ships were close enough to allow any direct communication.
…………………………
Trip had worked on and off all day, applying teasing pressure to T'Pol. It was one of his favorite pastimes, but this time it had a purpose beyond his own amusement. Tonight was the first Movie Night they'd had since before the Captain had handed himself over to the Klingons. He'd been trying to lighten her mood, and get her back into the swing of life on Enterprise. The Commander would be the first one to admit his motives weren't completely altruistic. Dinner in the Captain's Mess had become stilted and uncomfortable, to the point that he was losing his appetite. Loyalty to Jonathan kept him going back night after night, but it was beginning to wear on their friendship and his nerves.
Each night T'Pol forced herself to eat only enough to be considered polite. Then she'd leave, using work as an excuse. Trip figured she must have realigned and recalibrated every sensor at the science station at least three times. All the while Jon pushed food around his plate, and then muttered under his breath, after she left. The one time he'd asked his friend about it, Jonathan had bitten his head off, and then dismissed him. Something was very wrong between those two and it didn't bode well for the ship.
Dramatic reading of the book, instead of viewing the movie classic Frankenstein, Trip could picture that one, especially with a Vulcan evolved. It would have all the appeal of watching paint dry! "Book club my ass." He muttered as he left the bridge in exasperation. "That's the last time I try to help her. What the hell does Jon see in her anyway?" His rhetorical question was addressed to the closed lift doors, as he was whisked to the engineering level. He'd done his best to try and make things easier on them, but was damned if he was going to get caught in the middle of whatever was going on. The Vulcan was being as stubborn as any Vulcan he'd ever met, and Jonathan was approaching the coming Movie Night with a forced gusto that made him think of Joan Of Arc and large fires.
Just before the turbo lift doors slammed shut, Hoshi blew Trip a kiss and shrugged. Her big brown eyes shined with sympathy at his attempt to help, but it was obvious that he was getting nowhere. Then she heard the conversation across the bridge, and her mouth dropped open.
Had the Captain really said what she thought he had? She looked up to see if anyone else had heard what Archer had asked T'Pol, but everyone was working studiously at their stations. 'No, her ears must've been playing tricks on her.' She shook her head again, to bring herself back to reality. 'He wouldn't ask a Vulcan out on a date, especially so publicly!' But the Captain's quiet deep voice kept ringing in her ears. 'Let's make a night of it. Dinner in the Captain's Mess at 1800, movie at 1930, you'll be my date.' Finally Hoshi looked cautiously at the two officers who were talking beside the star maps. Captain Archer's back was to her, but she could see T'Pol clearly, and the expression of frozen shock on her face was unmistakable. But it was her eyes that gave away her real thoughts. For just a second the Communication's Officer saw something that looked very much like longing, followed by fear, in their deep green depth, then it was hidden behind a cool calm that could mean anything.
'Yup, the Captain had pulled it off!' Hoshi grinned to herself. As she watched, T'Pol was nodding her head in agreement with a mesmerized look on her face. Too bad Trip had missed the repercussions of what he'd started! Or maybe it was just as well, knowing her boyfriend considered it his patriotic duty to needle their resident Vulcan, every chance he got. If he'd said something that had caused T'Pol to change her mind, Archer would've probably given him the special assignment of scrubbing down the outer hull, until they returned to Earth.
………………………….
Jonathan paced his quarters and damned his big mouth. It'd been a long time since he'd joined Trip in the Chief Engineer's favorite game of 'lets bait the Vulcan.' He'd known that T'Pol had been avoiding him ever since his return from Rura Penthe, but that wasn't any excuse. Maybe the Klingons were right? Maybe he was impulsive, but Damnit, he wanted to spend time with her and the movie was a good excuse! When the chance had fallen in his lap, he'd taken it. The more he thought about it, the more he believed she hadn't been totally against the idea, or she'd have turned him down flat, even in front of the entire bridge crew. Vulcans were known for their tactless honesty, and there were times he thought his First Officer majored in it!
"Hmm" he whispered. "What's going on inside that head of yours, T'Pol?" Archer suddenly remembered the evening they'd spent at the monastery of P'Jem. They'd shared a blanket to keep the cold out. He couldn't remember what they'd talked about, but he did remember her response. It had been very female and familiar. She'd become upset by something he'd said and suddenly, she'd turned her back on him and whipped the blanket away, until it covered only her. At first he hadn't believed what he'd seen: a Vulcan in a huff. Now he realized it was a reaction he should have paid more attention to. Phlox had been right when he said she wasn't like Human females, but there were times she acted like one.
This time things were a lot worse than a 'huff.' He'd crossed a line with her, one he hadn't realized existed, and she'd shut him out. When dealing with women of his own species, he was experienced enough to usually figure out what his supposed transgression was, but Vulcans were a different thing all together. Even if he could figure out what he'd done to upset her, he doubted soft music and gentle words would get things back where they had been.
Suddenly Jonathan stopped pacing. It wasn't only because T'Pol was Vulcan, that the situation was so difficult, it was because it had never mattered this much in the past. A little voice inside of him whispered: Rebecca? But he shook his head and smiled fondly as he thought one last time of the honey-haired chemist he'd dated for the last three years before Enterprise left Earth. No, not even Rebecca.
He knew in his soul that if it had been any other woman, he would have shrugged his shoulders and moved on. He thought he'd been dreaming, that early morning in Sickbay when Voltaire's quote about love had floated through his mind, now he wasn't so sure. It was both daunting and a relief to finally understand what had been eating away at him for the last two years. 'Damn, no wonder Phlox was worried about us.' He shook his head as the ramifications of the situation became clear. 'What did a Human do if he were in love with a Vulcan?' Then he remembered he might have some answers to that.
Jon reached under his bed for his footlocker. He didn't keep much in there, but there was something that just might help him. He pulled out the small trunk and stared at the deep blue letters that read: Enterprise NX-01. Quickly flipping open the top, he reached in and found what he was looking for, a thick red book he hadn't bothered to read. His hands curled around the leather binding and he ran his fingers over the title engraved in gold: The Teachings Of Surak. T'Pol had given it to him when he'd gone on shore leave to Risa.
As Jonathan opened the front cover, a note slipped out. The paper smelled slightly of lemon and spices, and the handwriting on the inside sheet was hers: 'To help you relax, T'Pol.' Sitting back on his heels he nodded in satisfaction.
At the time he hadn't understood why she'd been so adamant about not going down to the planet Risa herself, but after learning what had happened to her, when she'd tracked two Vulcan criminals there, he was amazed at the depth of her generosity. She had known the Earth crew would enjoy what it had to offer, and had planned a shore leave for them, even if it was a place that haunted her dreams.
Picking up the book, he settled on his couch and began to read. It was rough going, and often sentences had to be read more than once to make sense. Jon had an idea that it was a direct translation from ancient Vulcan to modern English. He couldn't imagine the High Command sanctioning anything less. Unfortunately the Vulcan language could be as complicated as the English one. Both had a number of words with multiple meanings. But he was determined and kept going. T'Pol's note, written so long ago, had told him the book was to help him relax. Better understanding of the woman who had become so important to him would do just that, he smiled at the logic of the thought. Maybe Surak wasn't so hard to understand after all?
…………………….
While Jonathan was studying Vulcan philosophy, T'Pol was busy in her quarters looking up the definition of the word 'date' in her Vulcan-English Dictionary. It calmed the churning in her stomach when she read what she had found. Though there were many meanings to the word, the first one that had anything to do with interaction between two people was harmless. It read, 'an engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person.' 'That must have been what the Captain meant.' She thought, as she remembered him using the term once before.
It had been after they had found an odd ship floating abandon in space. Its only occupant an ancient corps, which Dr. Phlox had insisted contained DNA strands from multiple species. For some reason her mind kept skipping over a large fragment of time during that incident. She assumed it was a residual effect from Pa'nar Syndrome. The Doctor had explained that the small amount of neural damage it had caused would be permanent, even though the disease appeared to have disappeared along with the Wisp that had tried to take over her thoughts.
Despite the small memory lapse, she remembered clearly, the Captain using the term 'date,' when they had planned to meet for tea in the Mess Hall. That time and the many times they had met since, had been soothing and pleasant, much like the tea they ingested. His conversation often stimulated her interest in his species. It seemed unnecessary to avoid his company because of a momentary lapse on her part, due to lack of sleep and neglect of her meditation.
……………………..
Sitting in the darkened Mess Hall, with the old movie flashing on the large screen in front of him, Jonathan Archer found it hard to think about anything but the woman at his side. He congratulated himself on how well dinner had gone. He'd been wise enough to give her space and to take his lead from her. For the first time since 'that morning,' she'd appeared comfortable in his presence. It had been a formal comfort, but at least she'd finished her food and they'd talked. Granted, it had been about the scientific phenomena they were about to witness, instead of what he would have really like to talk to her about, but it least it was a start.
Once the movie began he'd only had to remind T'Pol once, that she'd promised to give the film a chance. Then she appeared to be engrossed in it. He wanted to try a small experiment, but dismissed the idea as implausible and went back to watching Dr. Frankenstein and his creation. Surrounded by people in the dark, his mind began to wander to the woman beside him. Her scent fill his head and mind. The room seemed to drop away, the noises became a dull rush in his ears, and he was surrounded in fog. Then he felt something sure and strong. It was like a rope reaching out to him, but as he mentally followed the rope, it led to a high wall, that he wasn't strong enough to climb and that had no door or opening. There was something familiar about the structure that was blocking his mental path. He'd come up against it before, but couldn't remember where or when, but he knew it was important that he make it to the other side. Very gently he began to lean against it.
T'Pol's focus was being jarred. She had said she would watch this movie; with its unusual characters, monochromatic tones, and strange dialogue, but no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, something was breaking though. Then she heard it, Phlox's voice, behind her, carrying on a medical analysis of the film. She had to make him stop, for some reason it was affecting her mental shields.
Suddenly Jonathan blinked and he shivered, as if someone had startled him awake. What the hell had just happened? Had he drifted off during the movie? Somehow he didn't think so. Reading Vulcan mysticism was one thing, attempting to practice it was another all together! Why had he thought he might be able to contact T'Pol's mind? 'Get over it, Jon, it was only a dream,' he reprimanded himself. Even now, he could hear her soft voice over the dialogue of the movie, as she took the Doctor to task for something. From Hoshi and Trip's soft snickers, behind him, it sounded like he'd missed out on something he would've enjoyed hearing. His Vulcan was too perceptive to miss much. He was lucky her mind had been occupied by the movie and what ever Phlox had done, if she'd caught him at his attempt to recreate what had happened that morning in Sickbay, he'd have set Human-Vulcan relations back about a century.
The calm that T'Pol had felt all evening was broken by how easy it had been for her to become distracted. She'd attended Movie Night before and had always been able to focus on what was happening, or if she chose, to appear as if she were, when really working on a complex math problem or logic puzzle. At least this time it had nothing to do with Jonathan. As she thought his name she could not stop herself from looking up at him. Unfortunately he had chosen that moment to look over at her. For one heart beat she let herself look, and for once did not question why. Why she liked to watch him, or why his presence could calm her when she needed it most but shake her when she least expected it.
As they quickly broke eye contact, she tried not to think about the man beside her or his effect on her. The whole night was taking on an odd quality that she chose to ignore, as she took popcorn from Jonathan's bowl and quietly munched on it. It was an unusual food, the taste and texture surprisingly good, and seasoned with that unique Earth seasoning, salt. She felt her calm return, as she reached for more kernels, and her fingers bumped against much larger ones.
"I'm glad you were willing to forego the utensils this once." He leaned over and whispered in her ear, as he felt her fingers brush against his again. "I've seen how determined you can be with a fork, and I 'd hate for my hand to get in the way."
"If Commander Tucker had provided one, along with his movie, I would have used it." Her brow rose to her bangs, and her eyes flashed a challenge he didn't doubt for a moment.
Together they quietly finished the last of the popcorn and Archer leaned over and put the bowl on the deck. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her trying to figure out what to do with her salt covered fingers. He turned toward her and carefully licked off his own, as an example. T'Pol's eyes popped open and both brows rose completely under her hair.
"That Captain, is why Vulcans do not eat with their fingers." She leaned closer so others would not hear her words.
He froze, as a number of options flashed through is mind, but he'd promised her he'd be a gentleman and he was as good as his word, so he pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. He'd save the mental image of her daintily licking her fingertips, or better yet, him doing it for her, as his own private fantasy.
"Thank you," she nodded as she wiped her hands clean and handed it back.
"Anytime," he murmured, and they both turned their attention back to the images moving on the screen in front of them.
With a small sigh, T'Pol realized things were back to normal again, or as normal as they had been since she had been assigned to live among the Humans. She remembered in their first year, Ambassador V'Lar had predicted that she and Jonathan would form a bond of friendship, maybe the Ambassador had been right. But how had she known? And did she realize the pitfalls that being friends with a Human entailed?
………………………..
"Well, Darlin' what did ya think of the movie?" Trip Tucker smiled down at Hoshi Sato as they slipped quietly into her quarters.
"Honestly?" She arched a brow as he began pulling the pins from her hair.
"Sure, I want ya to always be honest with me." He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose, something he had wanted to do all evening, but common sense had told him that a public display of affection would be pushing it.
"Well then, honestly, I think we need to find someone else to pick the movies." She grinned at him while her hands moved up the planes of his well-muscled chest.
"You're kiddin' me!"
"No I'm not." Hoshi sighed, she should have been more tactful, but she was getting sick and tired of watching movies that were geared toward the twelve-year-old male. "In case you haven't noticed, a good third of this crew is female. How 'bout showing something we'd like to see for a change."
"We're supposed to sit there and watch girl movies?" He couldn't believe his ears. First T'Pol had suggested that a dramatic reading of the book Frankenstein would be more interesting, now Hoshi was pushing to make them sit through a bunch of chick-flicks!
"Occasionally it wouldn't hurt." Hoshi grinned at the sick look on Trip's face. "Would it really be that bad?" She nuzzled his neck and nipped at the sensitive spot that was just below his right ear
"Well, when you put it that way." His hands moved to the zipper of her jumpsuit and began to inch it down.
……………………
Two Star Fleet uniforms were pooled together beside the bed. Boots had been tossed helter-skelter, and his standard issue under shorts covered the scrap of silk Hoshi had substituted for hers, but it was the sight of her bra with the torn strap that made him grin and sigh as his hand covered her bottom and pulled her closer to him as they snuggled together.
"How much damage did we do." Hoshi shivered at the texture of Trip's skin against hers.
"Well, it looks like I might owe you another bra." He tried to sound apologetic, but his grin ruined it. "It's your own fault, ya know. If your eyes didn't grow real wide and you didn't give that incredibly sexy yelp of surprise and passion when somethin' got torn, your clothes would remain in tact."
"You must be thinking of some other woman. The Hoshi Sato I know would never do that." She kissed her way over his shoulder and slid over him until her body covered his. She was warm and sated from making love, and wanted nothing more than to be exactly where she was at that very moment.
"That shows what you know." Trip ran his hands through her long silky hair and let it drape over both their shoulders. "Ya see, under the very proper exterior of the linguist, there's one hot blooded woman."
"I wonder if Vulcans are like that?" She murmured, her mind suddenly on another couple.
"What? Why're ya thinkin' about that?" Trip slid Hoshi to his side and cupped her face so he could see her eyes.
"You were there tonight, you couldn't have missed the Captain and the Sub-Commander whispering to each other during the movie." She didn't understand the blind spot Trip had when it came to his best friend and T'Pol.
"Yeah…so…That doesn't mean that they.." Trip sputtered. He knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't make his mind go there. "My God Hoshi, she's a Vulcan, and I don't trust the Vulcans!
"It's not you who is dating one." Hoshi pointed out logically. "Besides I trust her, even if she is.
"Jon is not dating her!" Trip insisted. "And I don't care what you heard him say on the bridge this afternoon."
"Why are you so thick-headed about this whole thing? They care about each other."
"He cares about her, don't ya mean?" It made Trip's blood boil every time he thought about how the Vulcans had tried to sabotage the Warp 5 program from the beginning and when they couldn't stop it had placed a spy aboard.
"No, Trip I don't. She cares about him as well. She was in almost physical pain when Captain Archer was being held by the Klingons."
"Then why did she give him such a bad time when he got back?"
"We don't know that she did." Hoshi sighed, she really liked T'Pol and hated the fact that Trip was blind to her good qualities.
"Well ya ever hear that old saying, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer'?
"That's such a guy thing to say!"
"It is? Yeah you may be right about that." Trip swung his legs out of bed and pulled his shorts on. "What is it with you all of the sudden, guy-movies and guy-sayings. I thought we were just people."
"But…" Hoshi watched in dismay as he quickly dressed. "Where are you going?"
"Well this GUY is going to go and sleep in his guy-bed tonight."
"Be sure to turn the light out as you go." She called after him. "And you still owe me a bra…" Her voice trailed off as her hatched slammed on her darkened quarters. She curled back down into her bed that was still warm from his body and for the first night in weeks they both slept alone.
To Be Continued