Spoiler: The Expanse, ch 7 from A Trip Through Dark and Rocky Places
Notes: **Double asterisks will be on either side of dream sequences, or things that are remembered from the past. With luck those sections will also be italicized. It doesn't always upload correctly, no matter how many times I try.
Thanks: To Monica, my ever patient beta reader
Pairings: Archer/T'Pol, Hoshi/Trip & Malcolm/Other
ENJOY!
Ch 14 Passages
Jonathan Archer propped his head on the biobed where T'Pol was sleeping. Her deep even breathing told him she was resting quietly and the touch of his hand on hers assured him her fever was gone. He was sorely tempted to crawl in beside her so he could hold her like he really wanted, or even stay where he was, so her hand could remain in his, but he was smart enough to realize that if Phlox caught them, he'd get sent back to his own quarters. And if anyone else caught them!!! He didn't even want to think of the complications it could cause. It was bad enough that Phlox knew he cared about her. It was best no one else did for the time being.
"I'll be less than two feet away." He smiled as he spoke softly to the sleeping woman and pulled the covers tighter around her shoulders. "Right here for you if those dreams come again." Between the little she had mumbled to him when she was somewhere between awake and asleep, added to the bits and pieces he'd gotten from Phlox, Trip, and Malcolm, he believed it would be best if there was someone here with her if she awoke in the night. Or so he told himself.
He grabbed a blanket and pillow from the drawers where he knew Phlox kept them, then extinguished the light and crawled onto the biobed beside hers. Lying on his side he smiled to himself as he thought that they looked like the picture of propriety. She on her side, covered to the neck and he on his, with a blanket over his sweats and t-shirt. His last waking thought was that if he had Porthos beside him, it'd be just like back on the Catwalk.
……………………..
Hoshi Sato stretched and looked around the bridge. As suddenly as things had gotten out of control the day before, they had righted themselves. It was only the time in-between that had seemed to last forever. The Captain was back, and from the look of him when he'd made a quick stop to the bridge, a few hours earlier, she'd bet he was asleep, by now. If she had to hazard a guess, she figured it was in Sickbay, not too far from T'Pol, who according to Dr. Phlox was well on her way to recovery from the strange fever she'd picked up.
"Boy, Graham, am I ever glad to see you!" Hoshi rubbed her eyes as Ensign Graham Elizabeth Morgan, the acting beta shift communications officer, appeared at her station promptly on time.
"You could've given me a call, and I'd have come in early." The redhead grinned and looked around at the tired alpha-shift bridge crew. None of them had been willing to leave their stations during the search for Captain Archer. They all looked blurry-eyed and bushed, as they handed over their positions to their counterparts on beta-shift. "You've been manning the comm. board for the last nineteen hours. It's part of my command rotation to learn from the best, but how can I do that if you're too tried to teach me."
"I know, I'm sorry, but I couldn't leave him," Hoshi whispered and nodded toward Trip where he was leaning exhaustedly against the Captain's chair, deep in conversation with Malcolm.
"With a view like that I can see why you stayed." Morgan sighed as her eyes strayed to the slim dark haired Tactical Officer.
"He needed me, and there isn't much he…." Hoshi's sentence trailed off as she realized that the men had stopped talking and she found herself staring into deep blue eyes. "I gotta go Graham, the logs are current, they'll bring you up to date on all the repairs that're going on." She practically threw down her earpiece and jumped out of her chair. But standing caught her by surprise. Her right leg cramped, and she almost fell.
"You all right?" Graham gripped her elbow to help her keep her balance.
"Sure, I was sitting in one position too long, that's all. I just need to loosen up a bit." Hoshi pasted a smile on her face and tried to lie her way off the bridge before she caused too much of a spectacle.
"I'll cover your retreat, but you'd better hurry." Her friend whispered, as she watched over Hoshi's shoulder. "Almost everyone else from your shift has left, and we're beginning to attract some attention."
"Damn," Hoshi muttered, as she estimated the distance to the lift and told herself she could do it. She'd been careful when coming and going from the bridge to be sure there was always a crowd around her.
Her forehead was damp with sweat and her lip throbbed from where she'd dug in her teeth to keep from gasping in pain, but she'd made it with only a minor limp. In the background she heard Graham attempting to make conversation with Trip and Malcolm to keep them occupied, while she waited for the lift. If her calf hadn't been threatening to give way and send her tumbling to the deck, she would have smiled in delight. Hoshi's shy friend had had a crush on Malcolm since the mission began, but this was the first time she'd ever approached him.
Moments later it arrived and she breathed a sigh of relief that she was alone as the doors closed behind her. It had been a close call. She leaned over and tried to rub the knot out of her slowly tightening calf muscle with one hand, as her other awkwardly grasped for the control panel. But before she could reach it, the doors opened again, and spilled bridge noises into the silence of the little enclosure. Without looking up she knew who was standing there by the way her stomach jumped and her skin tingled.
"Ya know Malcolm, if you don't have the command codes, ya gotta share the lift." Trip never took his eyes off Hoshi who was trying to straighten and stand casually, as if nothing had happened. "Isn't that right Ensign?"
"Ahhh…" She had the good grace to flush. It was obvious that he remembered when T'Pol had locked him out of the lift using her overrides. Hoshi had hoped he'd been too drunk to realize the Vulcan had done it to protect her from having to come face to face with him when she'd been crying.
"I'll take that as an affirmative." His eyes twinkled as he nodded at her. He finally had her alone and he was going to keep it that way until he got some answers.
"Trip, I just remembered I needed to talk to Ensign Morgan about something." Malcolm chimed in. "Go on and eat without me, this may take awhile."
"Yeah, sure thing old buddy." The tall blond nodded and walked with measured steps toward the woman who meant everything to him.
………………………
Graham's jaw dropped as Trip looked over his shoulder and winked at Reed, then closed the lift door before letting anyone else got on. It'd been a set up, and Hoshi had walked right into it! She was sure of it.
"You two planned that." She knew if she looked up into Malcolm's deep brown eyes, her hands would begin to shake and she'd never get through the systems check that was required at the beginning of each shift.
"Not me, I took my cues from the Commander, and he was too tired to plan anything, but if he'd given it a bit of thought I'm sure he would have." Reed watched Graham's slim fingers dance over the communications board. It was hard to believe this woman possessed the sure strong grip that made her the top marksman, he knew her to be. "In case you haven't noticed, we've been a bit busy, up here." He blinked and cleared his throat when he realized he'd been staring.
"Well it's good to know that all those bangs and booms, that kept waking me, weren't just target practice." She looked up at him through her lashes and much to her surprise he was looking back.
"A little target practice never hurt anyone." Reed couldn't take his eyes off the pert redhead. When she'd rotated through the Armory, he'd noticed that she was efficient and capable, but he'd never looked twice at her as a woman. Maybe he'd been in space too long, or on duty for too many hours. His eyes kept drifting to her throat and neck where short curls had escaped her tightly braided hair, and gently framed her face. "As you move up the ladder in the Command Rotation, you'll discover that a good officer makes the most of an opportunity when it comes his way." He had to fight to keep his eyes from roaming over her slim compact body.
"Spoken like a true tactician!" She couldn't believe it; they were talking and joking. She loved his sense of humor, it was dry and witty, the kind she liked best. Her grandmother had always said she could make conversation with a rock, but when it came to Malcolm Reed, her mouth went dry and she hemmed and hawed like a schoolgirl. "It looks like you helped Commander Tucker make good use of his."
"If I hadn't thought it was in Hoshi's best interest, he wouldn't have gotten on that lift." The growl in his voice left no doubts to his sincerity.
"That's sweet."
"Sweet," his brows rose in mock horror. "Please Ensign, do not let that get around. I'm the Amory Officer and sweet is not in the job description." He tried to scowl but when she chuckled at him, his face softened and he grinned. She was such a pretty little thing he didn't understand how she had escaped his notice up until now. "How much longer do you have on graveyard?" He didn't envy her the shift she worked, but knew it was a necessity. He hoped if they talked about work it would take his mind off the sudden desire to play his hands through her soft curly hair.
"This is the last night," she sighed. "I move over to days for my six months in engineering, the day after tomorrow." She glanced down at her board as a flashing red light caught her attention. "Oh no…the lift has stopped between decks. You don't think they've killed each other do you?"
"No, they have a few things to iron out, that's all." He reached across her and flipped a switch that turned the red light back to green. "Lets give them some privacy." As his arm brushed her shoulder, he heard her slight gasp. Deep brown eyes locked with large gray ones and Malcolm new that if he didn't act on his opportunity, it might never come again. "If you don't have other plans, Ensign, would you like to meet me in the Mess Hall at 0800, sort of a breakfast/dinner."
"I..I'd like that very much." Graham's mind froze and she was surprised she'd been able to get the words out. 'But did he ask me on a date, or is it ship's business?' She added…"Sir," just incase.
…………………….
The doors closed and Trip hit the button for B Deck before he turned around and took a good look at the woman behind him. "Hosh, this has gotta stop. Ya gotta give me a chance…."
"Ooohhh." She cried out and would have fallen hard, if he hadn't grabbed her and lowered her to the ground. When he reached behind him to hit the emergency stop, he said a silent prayer that Malcolm was still covering for him on the bridge or there would be a team crashing through the ceiling in about three minutes. He'd deliberately disabled the communicator at the same time he'd brought the lift to a halt. Nothing short of a Tactical Alert was going to get in the way of his time with Hoshi!
"Darlin' what's wrong?" He watched as she frantically pulled at the straps on her right boot.
"Cramp," she gasped and cried out as the muscles contracted even tighter.
"Easy Darlin if you fight it, it'll only get worse." He propped her against the bulkhead and shoved her hands aside, while he made quick work of the fasteners and boot.
"Trip, help me!" Hoshi cried out and twisted her body to take some of the pull off her calf.
"Easy does it, Darlin, ol' Trip'll take care of you." One of his large hands engulfed her foot as the other supported her calf.
"EASY does it?" She shouted and pounded her fists on the deck. "It's not your leg that's being cut off without benefit of anesthesia!" The muscles had begun to knot so badly, that they pulled on adjoining ones and caused her toes to contract and curl.
"Whoa, it's nice to see that temper of yours aimed at something other than my head!" He teased to keep his mind off the ripple of muscles as they tightened in his hand. He knew it had to feel as if someone was stickin her with a red-hot poker, and it broke his heart to know she was in pain, and he was going to have to cause her more. "Okay, Darlin, you ready? I'm gonna flex your foot and push real hard on the ball. It's gonna hurt like hell!"
"Just do it!" She snarled at him as sweat broke out on her upper lip and her eyes filled with tears.
He propped her foot against his chest and covered it tightly with one hand to keep it in place, then leaned forward, causing her foot to flex against him. All the time he muttered encouraging words and massaged her calf. Slowly he could feel the cramp begin to loosen and her taught posture slumped against the wall.
"Take some real deep breaths and try to stay relaxed. I'm gonna push harder," he warned as he felt her trying to pull free of his grip. "Damnit Hoshi, I said relax! If you fight me, it won't stretch out your calf muscles and they'll cramp again." He'd played enough sports and had enough cramps in his years in high school to know.
"I don't want to hurt you." She whispered as he leaned closer and jammed her foot tighter against his chest.
It was a lame excuse and she knew it, but he was too close and his kindness was going to be her undoing. All she wanted was to thrown her arms around him and forget the last few weeks had happened, but her emotions were too raw, and she wanted him too badly to think straight. Her stomach did a flip-flop, as she battled the rush of longing brought on by the familiar scent of him inches away. It brought back clear memories of the taste and texture of the hard muscular chest her foot was pressed against. Her breathing hitched as she fought new tears brought on by a deeper stronger emotional pain.
"You think this little foot of yours is hurtin me?" He grinned at her and kept massaging the back of her leg. "I remember getting tackled by Hulk Anderson, biggest guy on the Tallahassee High team, and they played dirty too. I was trying to get off a pass and he nailed me right in the number with his helmet. Couldn't catch my breath for a week."
Hoshi leaned back against the lift wall and smiled for the first time in days. He was probably telling her a huge story, to keep her mind off the pain. It was one of his most endearing qualities, but unfortunately, it was also keeping her mind off his hand that had moved further up her leg and become more of a caress than a massage. Suddenly she was the one who couldn't catch her breath. He was practically on top of her. Her left leg was held clamped between the taught muscles of his right thigh and left boot. Her right one bent, with her foot pushing against his chest and her knee against her shoulder. He was so close she could feel his breath on her face and his body heat surrounding her. For a moment everything stopped.
"Thank you, that's much better." She took in deep gulps of air between words and could feel her heart beating in her ears, as she reached for his hand and pulled it away from her thigh. "You can let me up now." Her eyes begged him not to make a fuss. She was too tired and they had been too close for her to think clearly.
"Hoshi---"
"Please Trip, not tonight, we've both been through too much." With a shaking hand she reached up and cupped his left cheek.
As if it had a life of its own, his left hand covered hers and pressed it tightly against his face, while his head turned and he kissed the tender pad of her palm. When he finally pulled back his eyes were damp, but he had himself under control. "Alright, but you gotta let me help you to your quarters. I promise I won't try to come in. I just wanna be sure you're okay."
"Thank you." Her whisper barely reached his ears as he gripped her around the waist and pulled her to her feet.
"You think you can stand?"
She nodded as he reached for her boot and released the emergency stop on the lift, but the trip to B deck went all too swiftly. It felt wonderful to have his arm around her again, and she was glad he kept it there while he helped her down the corridor to her quarters. "I'll be fine, really I will." She smiled at him weakly.
"Well goodnight, then." He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt, but he didn't dare. She was at least speaking to him again and he wasn't taking any chances of pushing her away a second time.
"Trip," she took a deep breath and gathered her courage. She loved him and that wasn't going to change. She was sick and tired of hiding because she was afraid of what ifs. But she was also smart enough to know that neither of them was in any shape to make a sane decision tonight. "Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night, here in my quarters?"
"You sure that's what you want?" He had a vivid memory of the last time they'd had dinner in her quarters. Chocolate mousse had been on Chef's menu, but Hoshi had given it a unique flavor all her own.
Before she could lose her nerve, she stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Very much so."
………………………..
In the early morning hours T'Pol turned over in bed and sighed in her sleep as she became aware of a familiar comforting scent, which had been hiding in the background all night. 'Jonathan,' her sleeping mind replied, but her internal clock told her they had plenty of time before their shift began, so she relaxed and let his presence surround her thoughts.
**'But something must be wrong.' She shifted again, trying to find the large warm body that always held her as they slept. And what was that other odd smell that tried to mask the one she sought?
'Sickbay!' Her mind shouted. She was in Sickbay. Fear shivered through her, as her hand slid to her flat stomach, searching, searching, searching…but for what?**
"NO!" She shouted herself awake. As suddenly as she knew something was very wrong, her mind locked a door on the memory and she fell tumbling back into herself. Whatever thoughts had thrust her awake were hidden behind a wall of her own making, while she tried to shake free of Jonathan's voice repeating in her mind, 'you must not remember.'
Archer was brought suddenly awake by T'Pol's shout, and rolled off the biobed beside hers. He gripped her with one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist. "Wake up T'Pol, you're having a nightmare."
"Vulcans do not have nightmares." Her hoarse voice whispered as she fought to catch her breath and orient herself. She had vague memories of spending hours with Phlox in decon and something else... "You are back!" She turned and gripped his t-shirt collar. "You are safe."
"Yes, I got back last night." He moved around and held her hands in his as he looked at her bruised and banged knuckles. "I wasn't hurt, but it looks as if you weren't as lucky."
"It is nothing." She tried to pull free, as a vague memory of ripping apart the wall in decon, surfaced. "It was the pathogen I picked up on the planet." She shuddered as she realized what had happened, and hoped her behavior had not been too disruptive.
"T'Pol, it's alright. The reports I've read said you were very ill, but Phlox took good care of you."
"He did." She remembered bits and pieces of the night before, and the doctor had assured her that nothing inappropriate had happened between them. "It appears as if we are both safe now."
"Safe?" Archer frowned at her unusual choice of words. He would have thought she would have said they were both all right. Her illness must have made her feel insecure, which was why she had been crying out in her sleep. "The microbe must have caused the nightmares."
"I told you, Vulcans do not have nightmares. We do not let ourselves dream." It was a statement of fact, and she hoped it would keep Jonathan from asking more questions.
"Oh?" He shook his head as an old memory surfaced. He could see her in her darkened quarters, with only the light of her meditation candle between them. Her face was ravaged with pain as it was now, but that time a flesh and blood man had caused it. Tolaris had used force during a mind meld and she was attempting to meditate away the horrors of it. The renegade Vulcan had used her dreams against her to try and turn her from the path of logic. "It seems to me you told me something very different once." Jonathan reached around and held her again, to add his body heat to hers. She shivered against him, as she absorbed the warmth he offered.
"To dream would be to let emotion take control when I slept." As a species, Vulcans found it difficult to lie, but when necessary were perfectly capable of it. But as she looked into his concerned eyes, she knew he was one person she would never be able to lie to, so she dodged the question with a statement of fact, while she fought another dream. A more recent one, where Jonathan lay dead in a pool of blood. Tolaris had killed him!
"Captain, stop badgering my patient. You appear well enough to be released from Sickbay." Dr. Phlox arrived carrying a breakfast tray. His eyes rested momentarily on the rumpled bed beside T'Pol's. Both men knew Archer had been released from the doctor's care the night before. Phlox was covering for his captain, but the Doctor's first loyalty was to the one who had been ill. "Besides you have a message coming in from Earth. If you like, you may take it in my office. That nice young Ensign was quite insistent that I wake you."
"Thanks Phlox," Jonathan could tell from the blue twinkle in the Denobulan's eyes that he realized he was being thanked for more than the use of his office.
"Anytime I can be of service, Captain."
Jonathan nodded and looked back over his shoulder at T'Pol, who had been sitting silently watching him.
………………………..
"Have you been ill Jonathan?" Forrest squinted at Archer on his view screen. It was clear the man had been sleeping in Sickbay. He needed the captain of Earth's only warp 5 starship healthy and he needed him that way now, too much was at stake.
"No, Sir." Archer tried to focus. The Admiral looked terrible. "I had another little run in with the Klingons. Phlox was keeping an eye on me my first night back, that's all. What can I do for you?"
………………………….
Graham Morgan's stomach heaved as she chose toast and tea over her usual hearty after-shift meal. She'd spent the last few hours on an adrenalin roller coaster and was drained. Her heart ached when she realized that in the amount of time it had taken her to answer a hail from Earth, everything had changed.
**She'd been pinching herself to try and stay awake, in the dawn hours of her shift. A mixture of excitement and worry about her coming date with Malcolm Reed had made it hard to concentrate, so she'd used twice the usual energy to stay on task. When the first 'flash' message had come in from Star Fleet, she'd told herself it was just another drill, but the expression on the face of the communications officer on Earth, had made her want to lock down her board and pretend that she'd never received it. Even then a gnawing intuition had told her that things would never be the same again.
That had been two hours, and seven messages from Earth, ago. When Hoshi had taken over the station, Malcolm had been right behind her. Instead of meeting him in the Mess Hall for their combined breakfast-dinner, they'd had a few terse words on the bridge, which left her feeling empty and a bit lost.
At shift change, no one but the Captain had known what was really going on, but from the look of the people who had been called for an early morning meeting, Graham knew it couldn't have been good. Even Sub-Commander T'Pol, who had looked pale and drawn from her recent illness, was there, though Dr. Phlox had clucked his disapproval at her presence.**
Now they all knew. An alien probe had attacked Earth, which left thousands, maybe even millions dead, and Enterprise was being recalled. The idea of what had gone on at home was so incomprehensible that Graham had trouble accepting it. From moment to moment she'd forget. Then realization would hit her all over again, and she'd catch her breath in horror of what had happened.
"Ensign," Malcolm Reed stood beside her table with a cup of coffee in his hand.
"Please, sit down." She nodded toward the empty seat across from her. "I thought, with all that has happened…well I assumed you'd be too busy." The man who stood beside her had never looked harder or tougher. His eyes didn't sparkle with dry humor, nor did he attempt to smile. He looked like the man she always suspected was there, once the layers of civilization were peeled away, a deadly warrior.
"I can't stay long, I just wanted to say I'm sorry." He put down his empty coffee cup and would have left if she hadn't reached for his hand.
"Wait, answer one question for me first." Graham licked her lips and gathered her courage. During her long night of worry, she'd come to realize she had a lot more than a crush on this strange quiet man. If she was going to care deeply about someone like him, it would take nerves of steel, and a strength of character that would match his.
"I can't give you anymore information than has already been released to the crew."
"I know," she smiled at his stiff formal behavior. "I'd never ask you to. My question is about last night. You were asking me on a date, weren't you?"
"Ensign, last night no longer exists." He had been trying to cut her from his mind ever since he'd heard about the probe. They'd served on the same ship for two years and it was his bloody luck to finally see her as a woman, the night before Earth was attacked.
"I beg to differ with you, Sir. When we start erasing parts of our pasts, we are destroying our future."
"We have no future." Malcolm fought to keep his emotions under control. He was hurting Graham and he was doing it on purpose. His primary goal was to stay focused on what lay ahead. He was a soldier, first and last. There was no room in his life for the softer things.
"Sir I was referring to mankind's future." She was furious at him, and even angrier with herself for letting him make her mad in the first place. "There's gotta be more than fear, confusion, and death waiting for us around each bend in the road, or what's the use in even getting up in the morning." Her words were coming fast and hard as all her doubts and fears spilled out. "So please, just answer my question."
He'd lain awake last night trying to figure out why it had taken him so long to notice her. The only thing he could come up with was that she was what he'd always called a 'girly-girl,' definitely not his usual type. He liked his female companions to be tall, tough, and athletic. She was short, slim and small boned. He'd bet a month's pay that she liked ruffles and all the female things he found so annoying. But there was something about her that made him want to reach and touch. To find out what she thought and felt, to be close to her in more than the physical way he usually settled for.
"Malcolm, please tell me the truth." She whispered. "I won't bother you again, I promise, I just want to know." She reached for his hand, but pulled back before she touched him.
His knees buckled when he saw her pull back. He hid it by taking the chair across from hers. She was a gentle soul who had the unfortunate luck to care about him. "I was, but now things are different."
"Thank you for being honest with me." She touched his hand and was surprised when he held onto hers.
"You deserve more."
"We all do, but it looks like this attack on Earth is what we got instead." Suddenly Graham was too tired to think straight, all she wanted to do was curl up in her bunk and sleep forever.
"I'm sorry but I need to get back to the bridge." He gave her hand one last squeeze and stood.
"If you ever need someone to talk to, a friend or…whatever." She shrugged and stumbled over her words. "I'll be here for you."
He nodded as he escaped from the Mess Hall. 'What have I ever done to deserve someone like her?' The thought played over and over again in his mind, as he made a quick detour to Engineering to see how Trip was doing.
……………………………
T'Pol had spent most of the day waiting, first for news from Earth, then for an open channel to the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco. She knew that if anyone could get them more answers it would be Soval. He had the power to call in help from the High Command, something Earth needed. By early afternoon, she had completed her task, but the news was unenlightening. The Vulcans had offered their help to Earth's government, but they had not been able to find out much more than anyone else. The probe had been sent by an unknown species, for unknown reasons. It would take time and investigation to find out who and what was behind it.
………………………………
The Suliban came out of nowhere. One moment everyone's concentration was on getting back to Earth, as fast as the warp engines could take them, and the next they were surrounded by pod ships, the power fluctuated and Enterprise was crawling with enemy soldiers.
T'Pol felt her stomach clench as she and Jonathan rushed from his office and saw two Suliban slither across the ceiling of the bridge. Then power failed completely and they saw nothing at all. She had to battle back her fear with every technique of concentration she had ever learned. The presence of the red clad beings brought back too many memories of the last time she had been face to face with them. That had been over a year ago, but she remembered every detail as if it had happened yesterday, because they had broken her will. It had taken hours, and the use of powerful mind drugs, but they had been successful in extracting information from her. She thought she had put the incident behind her, but it was evident she had not.
While she tried to restore at least partial power to the science station and monitors, she rationalized that due to her recent illness, the Suliban had been able to startle her. It was the only explanation for the reason they had caught her off guard and tapped into fears she had spent hours meditating away.
Possibly she had been overly optimistic when she had over-ruled Phlox and reported for duty, rather than spending another day in Sickbay, as he had requested. At the time she had told herself that she needed to get back to work to prove that the pathogen she had picked up, which had triggered an unnatural Pon Farr, was gone. After all she was Vulcan, and believed that any problem, when approached logically, could be solved. Her reason had had nothing to do with the stricken look on Jonathan's face when he had walked out of the Doctor's private office, after his initial conversation with Admiral Forrest. It had had nothing to do with the way he had walked over to her and had just looked at her as if he were drowning in sorrow.
As suddenly as the power had failed, it hummed to life. Lights blinked on, and stations came back online. In the background T'Pol heard Malcolm calling out that the pod ships were gone, but it hardly registered. Her eyes sought the secure bulk of Jonathan Archer, but he was missing!
It took her a moment to catch her breath, and then she was barking orders, to cover the rising tide of fear that opened deep fissures in her foundation of logic. A search of the surrounding area proved futile. The Suliban had evidently taken him, and with him a sizable chunk of T'Pol's calm.
"We gotta find him." Trip called out from where he was looking over Malcolm's shoulder at the tactical display. "We gotta turn around, if we keep goin' at warp 5, we'll never be able to track where they took him."
"Prepare to drop to impulse. We will run search pattern Delta 3 for the next hour." T'Pol's voice ground out as she moved slowly toward the center chair on the bridge.
"Whadda ya mean, the next hour?" Tucker scowled at her. "We gotta look until we find him." All his anger came to a head, as he gripped his fists, prepared to fight T'Pol for the bridge. The attack on Earth had left him irrational and in the mood to take a swing at someone. If he couldn't go after the perpetrators of the massacre, he'd take on anyone who got in his way.
"Our orders were very specific, Commander Tucker." She sat on the edge of Jonathan's chair, her feet pressed into the floor. "Star Fleet expects us home."
"But not without the Cap'n." He couldn't comprehend having to deal with the possible loss of his sister and his best friend all in the same day. "And since when was Earth home to you?" He sneered.
"Lt. Reed, Ensign Sato take thorough readings of the area and scan for any possible warp signatures, but unless we have something concrete to go on, we will only continue to search for 57 more minutes. Is that understood?" She looked around the bridge gauging the reaction of each of the members of the senior staff. Many looked dismayed, but only Tucker appeared as if he might continue arguing.
Malcolm stood, and walked slowly across the bridge to place himself between his angry friend and T'Pol. His hand rested lightly on his side arm. "Commander, it might be advisable for you to return to engineering."
"Lieutenant." Trip Tucker bared his teeth. He couldn't believe that Malcolm had chosen the Vulcan over him!
"Commander Tucker." T'Pol nodded her thanks to Reed, but this was her problem and she planned on dealing with it. The last thing she wanted was to cause a rift in the bridge crew. Her eyes were cool as she watched both men. 'Did the Humans think the decision was an easy one for me to make, just because I am Vulcan?' She wondered as she felt everyone's eyes on her. "Commander, I want to see you in Captain Archer's office in five minutes." She stumbled over the missing man's name, as she slipped out of Jonathan's chair and moved carefully to his office.
Part of her felt dead inside. The argument had only made it worse. She stopped her train of thought and regrouped. 'Vulcans do not argue, we discuss.' She nodded to herself, that sounded much better, but she knew if she did not get behind closed doors quickly she would make a spectacle of herself, and at the moment she needed all her strength to keep the crew together and get them home.
From her station, Hoshi had watched as anger had eaten away at the man she loved. It had blinded him to what was right in front of his eyes. 'How could Trip have missed how painful it had been for T'Pol, to make the decision she'd needed to make?' She was sure Malcolm had seen it. Her stomach clenched and her hands shook when she thought what the outcome might have been if the Tactical Officer hadn't stepped in. When she looked up the situation hadn't gotten any better. Trip's eyes shot bullets at Malcolm, who had stiffly returned to his console.
……………….
The swish of the door closing, behind T'Pol, cut off the noises from the bridge but the silence was like a shot to the heart. She caught her breath as she felt a strange sensation bubbling up in her throat. If she had not known better she would be sure it was tears. She breathed deeply and looked around the small room. "Please help me to find the correct words to deal with this," she whispered as she walked over to the window, where Jonathan had often watched the stars. She could picture him clearly and almost heard his voice from months ago, when he had found out that the she was not going to be sent back to Vulcan in disgrace due to her Pa'nar Syndrome. He had looked her in the eyes and told her he did not want to lose her. "Then why do I keep losing you?" She gasped, but the empty room only echoed back the sound of her voice, since there was no illogical Human to cup her shoulders and tell her everything would be all right.
Too soon her time alone was up. Commander Tucker knocked on the hatch. She reached deep for her slowly depleting supply of Vulcan calm as she turned slowly and called out, for him to enter. By the time the hatch opened, her spine was straight and she was prepared to settle things once and for all with the Chief Engineer.
"Sub-Commander, you wanted to see me." Trip Tucker's gait was stiff with anger and he stood carefully at attention, his gaze locked somewhere over her left ear.
T'Pol blinked to clear her face of any residual emotion and reminded herself that this man was Jonathan's friend. It had only been a few hours since he had learned that a portion of his planet had been wiped out and it was likely his family was dead. On Vulcan that would not have mattered, but she kept asking herself, 'how would Jonathan handle this?' "You realize that I could have you court-martialed after your actions on the bridge."
"Yes Ma'am." Though he was tempted to step closer and crowd her private space, he knew it would do him more harm than good.
She sensed his anger as it poured over her and she welcomed it. It distracted her from the other strange things she felt. This she could handle. Tucker had made no secret of his distrust of Vulcans. Though she and the Commander had gained a mutual respect of the others work over the last two years, and formed an uneasy friendship for Jonathan's sake, she chose to ignore all that. The overpowering emotions he had no practice shielding worked to her advantage. They made it easy to straighten her spine, clasp her hands behind her back and face him down.
"You have two choices, Commander Tucker." Her chin rose and her eyes grew frostier. "You will give me your word that this will never happen again, and then report to Dr. Phlox for a thorough check-up. You have been under a great deal of strain since you learned of the attack on your home world. I shall assume that was the cause of your outburst and nothing more will be said of it. Or you can continue to give me trouble and I will have you confined to your quarters, where you will remain until we reach Earth. The choice is yours!"
"Sub-Commander…" He looked at her closely for the first time, since he'd seen her with Phlox, the day before in decon. What he saw, threw a bucket of cold water on his anger. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were bright with a damp sheen. If she weren't a Vulcan, he'd swear she was fighting to keep from crying. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, I shouldn't of disagreed with you publicly. But we just can't leave Jon behind!" Over the years his commanding officer had become like a brother to him. It was too much loss to comprehend, both Lizzie and Jonathan in the same day!
"We have little choice in the matter." She turned away, uncomfortable that Tucker stared at her and unsure as to how much he could read on her face. "The longer we remain, the greater the danger that we will be discovered. Not only do the Suliban know our present course, but I believe that the Klingons who had the Captain are not far behind us. Jonathan's primary concern was always this ship and her crew."
"But he's alive, I just know it!" He watched T'Pol fidget with small items that Archer had left on his desk. Her hand kept going back to a palm computer that the Cap'n usually carried with him. For a moment he was hypnotized by the way her finger played across the small monitor. It was as if she were trying to wipe its surface clean of a stain only she could see.
"I would like him returned as much as you would." She cleared her throat as she felt it closing. 'I want him back so much more than you will ever know.' She blocked the thought as it surfaced. It would do her no good to dwell on something that was out of her control. "But I will not sacrifice this ship." Knowing she was doing what Archer would have wanted her to do was all that kept her going. "We are no match for the Suliban, and I have no wish to test our strength against a squadron of Bird's Of Prey. At the moment Earth needs Enterprise in one piece! That is my primary concern." Her voice ground to a whisper as her hand clasped the palm computer that had been found on Shuttlepod One when Archer and Tucker had been almost taken to Canamar. She was never able to look at the small device without remembering Jonathan's bloody fingerprint on the screen.
Trip couldn't believe what he was seeing. 'Was that honest to goodness emotion that filled T'Pol's face?' Suddenly it all made sense. He remembered other things that hadn't seemed to fit, but now fell into place. Her present bright eyes and pinched expression, her almost obsessive actions when Jon had been captured by the Klingons, and the expression on her face when he and Archer had been returned from the prison ship. 'Damn, she cares 'bout Jon, she really does and it's tearin her to bits to have to leave him behind.' She was grieving for his loss, but doing her best to hide it behind her Vulcan calm. Tucker had a sneaking suspicion that if she hadn't been ill recently, he never would have seen through the mask she usually kept tightly in place.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry." He wasn't sure which he was apologizing for, his actions, or her pain. Either way he wanted her to know he would stop fighting her. "I never shoulda questioned your decision in front of others. With Jon gone, it makes you actin Cap'n. I'll back you up sames I'd do him, and if I disagree with ya, I'll tell you bout it in private, just like I'd do him. Now I best get to Sickbay, so I can get back to my engines. Goin at warp 5 for the next month and a half is gonna be hard on em."
"Dismissed, Commander, and thank you." She lowered her mental shields for a moment, not completely trusting Tucker's actions, but all she felt was sorrow and loss, none of the anger and hostility that had accompanied his earlier exchange with her.
"I shoulda done it in the first place." He had been in the wrong and felt lucky he wasn't being locked up somewhere. As the words left his mouth, the lights dimmed again, and the ship stumbled in a momentary loss of power. In the seconds it took for it to right itself, T'Pol and Trip had made it from the captain's office to the bridge, where they found Jonathan Archer materializing in the exact spot where he had been standing when he was taken. His face was marked with anger and his eyes hard.
"Cap'n!" Trip called out and gripped his friend's arm. "What the hell happened!"
"How long was I gone?" Jonathan couldn't take his eyes off T'Pol. She leaned against the wall, as if she needed support to stand. 'Why is she gripping my hand computer, as if her life depended on it?' The random thought shook him almost as much as his time with the Suliban.
"If the ship's chronometer is correct, 37 minutes and 12 seconds." She licked her lips as she replied in a voice that only Hoshi, with her magic ear, could tell was strained. 'It had seemed like a lifetime,' but she could not admit it, even to herself.
"Why are we running at impulse?" He turned to the helmsman and ordered, "warp 5, for Earth, Mr. Mayweather." His eyes swept the bridge and he saw relief written on everyone's face, but there was no time for explanations. He needed to talk about what had happened to him, with the one person who would be the hardest to convince. Unfortunately it was essential to him, and possibly Earth, that he was able to make her believe him. "T'Pol you're with me." As Enterprise's engines throbbed to life, he turned on his heel and headed for his office.
…………………….
After the Captain and T'Pol left the bridge, Trip cleared his throat and walked quietly over to Malcolm Reed. "I'm sorry, I acted like an ass. Thanks for bein' sure I didn't get my sorry butt kick outta Star Fleet."
"Anytime, Sir." Reed grinned. "I'm sure you'd do the same for me." His eyes glinted with relief. It had always gone against his grain to fraternize with superior officers, but on a ship the size of Enterprise, during a long mission, it was hard to draw on the more traditional lines of military life. Sometime in the last two years he and Trip had become friends.
"Malcolm, I gotta ask, would you really have pulled that thing on me?" He nodded toward the phase pistol the tactical officer had started wearing after they had found out about the attack on Earth.
He shrugged and tilted his head. "I can tell you this much, I wouldn't have killed you. You still owe me money from last week's poker game."
"Remind me to always stay in your debt." Trip muttered. He had one more person he needed to speak with before heading to Sickbay.
Malcolm watched as Trip sauntered over to Hoshi's station. All he could do was shake his head. It had been a close call and one he hoped he'd never have to make again. Military tradition was deeply imbedded in his family. One obeyed a superior officer, even when the outcome was not always what one would like. It made his insides quake to think how close Trip had come to attempted mutiny. Reed hadn't liked the idea of leaving the Captain behind any better than anyone else, but he'd gained a huge amount of respect for the Sub-Commander in the last few months. He realized it wasn't a decision she'd made lightly: Earth's first warp 5 vessel, versus her Captain. He understood as he was sure T'Pol did, the important part Enterprise would play in Earth's future, if things were as bad as they appeared to be.
Trip stood looking down at Hoshi and prayed he had the strength to go through with what he had planned. When Jon had disappeared his one thought had been, 'God, now all I got is Hoshi, how'm I ever goin to keep her safe?' He knew deep down that too many outside forces conspired against him to be able to ever do that. She was in as much danger as the rest of them. He was already feeling the pain of the possible loss of a sister. The only thing he could do to protect himself from deeper darker hurts was to distance himself from those he cared most about. There was nothing he could do about Lizzie, the pain he felt told him that the worst had happened. But as long as Hoshi was alive he had a chance of pulling away before it was too late.
"Hosh," he leaned close to her station so no one overheard him. "I gotta cancel out on tonight. You were right in the first place. Involvement doesn't belong on this ship. It's too damn small!"
"But…" She could only look at him in surprise. All the pain and confusion of the last 24 hours was written on his face. All she wanted to do was pull him close and support him anyway she could.
"No buts, Ensign. I'll be in Sickbay if the Cap'n needs me." He turned and made it to the lift without once looking back, when all he wanted was to seek comfort in Hoshi's arms. He'd set a hard task for himself, but he could do it if he held tightly to his pain and reminded himself everyday, how much worse it could be.
……………………..
T'Pol listened to Jonathan's story about the Suliban and the man from the future for the third time. Something inside of her refused to believe it. It went back to the argument they had had months ago when they had found the unusual ship floating in space. Phlox had done DNA scans of the long dead pilot. If his information was to be believed, the dead man on that ship had been the descendent of a Human, a Vulcan and a number of other alien species.
Prior to that, she had been beginning to believe that Jonathan was correct, and the Vulcan Science Directorate's information was outdated: maybe time travel was not against the logical laws of physics. But from the moment the Doctor had told them about the Human-Vulcan cross breeding she had refused to budge on the issue. It had become a logical loop, if time travel could exist, then it was also possible that Humans and Vulcans would someday be mixing chromosomes. It was something that hit too close to home, especially after all the odd dreams she had been having lately.
"T'Pol…Sub-Commander?" Archer looked up and saw her staring off into space. It was the first time he'd taken a good look at her in hours. She appeared tired and drawn. He felt it pull at his heart, especially when he remembered how she'd looked the night before in Sickbay. 'I can't think about that now,' he blocked the soft warm feeling, by remembering instead stark pictures that had been taken of a trench of fire that still burned on Earth.
They were headed back home, armed with new information that might save his planet. If he had his way, they would be turning around and going back out, as soon as he could arrange it. Suddenly it had all come down to this moment and this mission. Everything he had thought he could do had been wiped away by one call from Admiral Forrest. If the man from the future was correct and the attack on Earth was not supposed to have happened, he was already feeling the change in history. Where before he had known in his heart that T'Pol would someday be his, now he only knew that she would not be safe with him. They had run out of time. With the shots fired from the Xindi weapon, it had forever separated his future from hers, and he'd better get used to it.
"Are you all right Sub-Commander?" He moved closer to her and touched her shoulder.
"I am fine, Captain." She whispered his title, very aware that he had called her by hers. Up until now, whenever they were alone, they had been on a first name basis. Things were slipping out of her grasp before she could figure out what they were.
"You don't look it." His smile was tight and professional. "You go to bed, we'll finish this discussion tomorrow, dismissed, Sub-Commander."
She blinked at his formality. His order was clear and it took her breath away. "Good night, Captain." She murmured as she headed for the hatch.
……………………….
Enterprise was quiet. Most of the crew, who didn't have the night shift, had gone to bed. The news from Earth had gotten worse all day and everyone was exhausted. Malcolm Reed walked though the empty corridors heading for the gym. He usually worked out in the morning, but tonight he couldn't sleep.
The small gym was empty, or so he thought, until he heard grunts followed by the clang of weights. He walked around the machines until he could see the free weight area, and there on a bench-press, was a small slim redheaded woman who had been in the back of his mind all day long. He couldn't help smiling as he watched Graham. She lay on her back, with her feet on the floor. He always admired women with long legs, and though hers were shorter than he usually liked, they were much longer than he'd realized. She was slim and attractive, even with her hair hanging free off the bench and her face damp with sweat.
"Ensign, you're not supposed to do that without a spotter." He had moved to her head and looked down at her as he grabbed the bar that held the weights to keep her from dropping it when he caught her off guard. "See what I mean."
"You startled me!" Her eyes looked way up, Malcolm Reed was the last person she had expected to see tonight. She was well aware of his workout schedule and always tried to be in the gym when she knew she wouldn't run into him.
"Sorry about that." He grinned at her and didn't look the least bit sorry. "Come on, finish up with the reps before your muscles get cold. I'll spot for you, then you can do the same for me."
"Thank you, Sir, I've only got one more set to go." She gripped the bar on either side of his hand, and felt the warmth of strength move through her muscles as her pecs, shoulders, abs, and even her back worked to push the weighted bar in correct form. Her eyes were locked with his and she almost forgot to exhale.
"You know, Graham, when Commander Tucker and I spot for each other, he calls me Malcolm, and I call him Trip." His voice was soft in the quiet gym and he reached for the bar that had begun to tilt as he had spoken. "Easy there. You really shouldn't be doing this alone."
"I was doing just fine until you came along and broke my concentration, Malcolm!" She gritted her teeth as she finished the set.
"Then I guess we're even, because you've been breaking mine all day long." He tossed her the towel and sweatshirt that was folded in the corner by the bench press and began adding weights to the bar. "My turn now." He couldn't help the grin that passed over his face when he looked at her. He'd been right, 'girly-girl all right!' Her sweatshirt was a faded pink, with the old slogan: Girls Pump Iron Too.
"Pardon me?" She gaped at him, as he positioned the weight bar in its holders and lay on the bench.
"I said it's my turn, since you're here I don't have to settle for the stationary bike."
"No wait, I was asking about what you said before that?" She automatically moved into place at the head of the press to look down at him and assist with the weights if need be.
"You heard me, and it's something we need to discuss." He pushed the weighted bar up as he exhaled. Stopping just short of completely straight arms he slowly inhaled while he fought gravity as the weights moved back toward his chest. "When we're through here, why don't we see what Chef left in the galley? We never did get to have that meal together." Since he was a man who never started a new task until he'd finished the one he was on, that was exactly what they did.
Malcolm wasn't sure why he asked to see more of her. It went against everything he believed to be correct standards of protocol. But ever since he had heard about the destruction on Earth, there had been a battle going on inside of him. The part of him who was the tactical officer knew it was folly to get involved with a woman when the odds were so high that Earth would be going to war. But the other part of him that was a man, wanted nothing more than to build a relationship. He had been thinking along those lines the night before, but with all that had happened, a new urgency was added to it.
Graham was lovely and she spelled disaster for his focus. He'd known that the night before, as well, but much had changed in the last twenty-four hours. He laughed at himself when he thought about it. He had gone through life as a solitary man because he'd always believed he would die in a great battle fighting against huge odds. Now that he was faced with the very real possibility of that coming true, he didn't want to do it, having never really loved or been loved. It was the realization of that selfish urge that had made him try to push her out of his life that morning. Now finding her again in the gym at midnight, he figured it was fate telling him to take a chance.
………………………
T'Pol tossed and turned as dreams filled her sleep, **she was asleep in Jonathan's arms, in his bed, in his quarters. It felt natural, it felt right, he loved her and she loved him. There was something more, but her mind shied away from it. Even in her sleep she knew she was seeing the future as it should have been, before the Xindi attacked and changed everything.**
"No," she gasped as she sat up in bed and remembered all she'd dreamt. Everything that Jonathan had told her she must not remember came crashing down upon her. She had traveled in time. 'I could not have. It was only a dream!' "That was it, another one of the dreams that have been plaguing me," she whispered. "I was only having a dream. I should have meditated for much longer tonight."
Even as the words slipped from her mouth she slid out of bed and pulled on a robe over her sleeping clothes. She hurried down the corridor to the lift and the one person she could talk to.
"Yes?" A sleepy Hoshi answered her door. Some small part of her had held out the hope that Trip had changed his mind, though she'd tried one more time to talk to him, but he'd closed her out then, as well. She wasn't sure which surprised her more, the idea of Trip seeing reason, or finding Sub-Commander T'Pol looking back at her from the other side of the threshold.
"Ensign, you once offered me tea if I ever needed to talk." She held up a thermos of hot water she had gotten from the galley. "I'm sorry to have awakened you, I'll come back some other time when it is not an intrusion."
"No wait," Hoshi opened her door all the way and stepped back. Something must be very wrong to have T'Pol show up on her doorstep at 0145. "Please come in Ma'am." She pulled a robe on over her thigh length nightgown, then got her Grandmother's tea box from her dresser and began brewing the aromatic roasted green tea leaves in a plain brown glazed pot that had been in her family for generations. "Please sit down."
The two women sat on the floor of Sato's cabin; Hoshi with her back against her bed and T'Pol cross-legged as if she were about to meditate. Between them there was the delicate old teapot and two small handleless cups. As the tea steeped, it filled the room with a light fragrance that calmed the Vulcan and filled the Human with memories of an old woman who had taught her the joys to be found in complex languages.
"I'll pour for you and you for me." The young Japanese woman smiled at her guest. "It's considered bad luck to pour your own tea, when others are present."
"Luck?" T'Pol raised her eyebrow, but let her tea be poured for her, then reached for the pot and did the same for Hoshi.
"It is a custom my grandmother taught me."
"Family customs are import to Vulcans as well." When phrased that way, T'Pol understood completely.
"Now what is so important that it got you out of bed at this time of night?" Hoshi knew it wasn't ship's business, or they wouldn't be sitting here drinking tea.
"Dreams," T'Pol whispered as she held the small cup to warm her suddenly cold hands. "I am unaccustomed to dealing with them and lately my sleep is full of them."
"I know what you mean." Suddenly Hoshi's eyes filled with tears and she reached for a tissue. "I'm sorry, you didn't come here to see me cry. Lately I've been doing a lot of that." She tried to laugh it off, but it didn't work.
"You have been having dreams that make you hurt right here?" The Vulcan placed her hand below her right breast and slightly to the side. Approximately where the middle of a Human's liver was located.
"If you mean your heart, then yes." Sato giggled at the difference in Human-Vulcan anatomy. "For me it's caused by love." Hoshi decided it was safer to keep things on a personal level, she was pretty sure she knew who the man was who would cause a Vulcan to have such dreams, but it wasn't her place to name any names.
"I do not understand this emotion, love." She swallowed and tried to make her face appear cool and calm. "Vulcans have a high regard for family. It is especially strong between parents and children. Overtime it usually develops between bondmates, though I have heard of instances where it does not. This emotion is highly regarded by Humans. Songs are written about it. There are books and poems dedicated to it. It appears to be an all consuming emotion, but it is totally illogical that it should be so, when it can cause such pain even while one sleeps."
"It's an emotion that just happens." Hoshi shrugged. "I didn't plan on falling in love with Trip or anyone else for that matter. I came on this mission to do a job, but he and I became friends, then we were close friends and suddenly all I could think about was him."
"I see, then if it is an emotion like all the rest, it should be easy to submerge it with meditation." The words were spoken so quietly that Hoshi wasn't sure the Vulcan realized she'd said them out loud.
"T'Pol, many Humans believe that a person's dreams are their subconscious trying to tell them something, which they refuse to see when they are awake." Hoshi was on thin ice and she knew it, but something had happened to have upset her friend badly and she wanted to see if she could make it right for her. "Emily Bronte is one of my favorite authors. She wrote a book called Wuthering Heights, in there she says: 'I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas. They've gone through and through me, like wine through water and altered the color of my mind.'"
As Hoshi spoke, T'Pol could only stare. It was as if the younger woman had seen her thoughts. Had these dreams changed her or was she dreaming because she had changed? It was a frightening thought to a woman who did not know the meaning of the word fear until she had joined the Earth ship Enterprise and let its captain become important to her.
"Thank you Hoshi," she whispered. "I shall keep your words in mind." T'Pol rose needing the privacy of her own quarters to think through all she had discovered. "Commander Tucker loves you very much."
"No, he doesn't. If I'd had doubts, tonight proved it to me once and for all." A lone tear ran down Hoshi's face as she stood to follow her guest to the door.
"Vulcans are sensitive to emotions. It is necessary for me to keep my mental shields tightly in place or I would be overpowered by the feelings Humans express as a part of their daily lives." She held the door open but looked back over her shoulder at the young woman who had been so kind to her. "The Commander has suffered a great loss. Give him time. I can feel his love for you whenever, you are in the same room."
All the way back to her quarters, T'Pol could not shake the memory of what Hoshi had said. Dreams that had gone through and through her, like wine through water and altered the color of her mind. As she was drifting off to sleep she could not help asking herself, 'but what if they were not dreams?'
……………………………..
Jonathan Archer had been wandering the halls of Enterprise for hours. Restlessness and worry had kept him awake. When he had first started walking, he'd ended up in front of T'Pol's hatch. As he'd reached for the bell, he'd known instinctively that she was not there, and he'd gone on his way, never questioning how he'd obtained the certain knowledge.
He'd passed the open Mess Hall door and smiled to himself when he'd seen Malcolm and Ensign Morgan talking quietly over coffee and a shared slice of cake. He was happy to see the usually stern Tactical Officer relaxed, but the sight of the couple pulled at feelings he had hoped to bury deep within him. On any given night it was usually the Captain and First Officer of Enterprise who could be found quietly sipping tea in a partially darkened Mess. Another of the many habits he was going to have to break.
His restlessness took him to Sickbay. 'Maybe Phlox was in and would be open for a chat.' But tonight the lights were off and the Doctor was relaxing in his quarters, instead of minding a patient as he had done the night before. Jonathan slid up onto the biobed he'd slept on the previous night. Sitting in the quiet and dark his head fell forward onto his chest and he wished with all his heart that he could turn back time. He knew it was the coward's way out, but if only he'd told T'Pol that he loved her before the shit had hit the fan. If only he'd held onto her the night before and never let her go. He'd been a fool and made a fool's mistake to take her lightly. Now he would pay for it for the rest of his life.
"I'm sorry," he whispered because suddenly he felt her presence as if she were sleeping in the room where she had last night. "I'm so sorry it's come to this." It was one of those odd moments he'd been feeling for months now, almost as if their minds met in a dream that went through and through him, and stayed with him forever.
TO BE CONTINUED Please review, the author loves to be fed.