Lieutenant Simmons cursed her awful luck. All she could say was that it figured after some time spent with Trip, the officer with the best sense of smell on the whole ship would schedule her physical. She wondered if T'Pol would know that she and the chief engineer had been together simply by the way she smelled. Laura had written her thesis in medical school on the differences between human and Vulcan physiology, so she knew their chances of avoiding discovery were slim. And if given the choice, she would rather anyone else on the ship find out about their relationship before the science officer. At least she had a chance of convincing someone else to keep their secret. She knew there was nothing stopping T'Pol from reporting them to Admiral Forrest, or worse.

With a sigh, she straightened the PADD on the biobed, and checked her chronometer. 3, 2, 1...She looked up just as the sickbay doors opened, and the Sub-Commander entered right on time, hands clasped firmly behind her, as usual.

"Good Afternoon, Lieutenant,"she greeted, as she strode over.

"To you, as well, Sub-Commander,"she replied with a slight nod of her head. She picked up her re-calibrated tricorder. "I'll have you out of here in no time at all."

The Vulcan raised one eyebrow slightly. "Lieutenant, I see you have been fraternizing with Commander Tucker."

She nearly dropped the tricorder in surprise, looking up at T'Pol with wide eyes. Surely she couldn't have figured it out that quickly. Could she? "Um, pardon?"

T'Pol's face showed the Vulcan version of puzzlement. "I have never witnessed you to used such ambiguous human phrases. I assumed you learned them from the Commander."

Laura's breath of relief came out in a rush. Of course. T'Pol hadn't smelled him on her. She had used her much appreciated sense of logic to deduce that they were spending time together. As friends. She managed to recover from her shock, and nodded.

"Um, yes. He proved to be quite a conversationalist."

"You experienced childhood with Mr. Tucker, correct?"she asked, as she pulled herself effortlessly onto a biobed.

The Lieutenant frowned in concentration as she ran the tricorder over the Sub-Commander. "Yes, that's correct. My family moved in next to his when we were six." She reviewed the data that appeared on the PADD she had hooked up to the tricorder.

"You knew his sibling? The one who was killed in the attack?"

Laura hesitated for a moment, wondering where this line of questioning was going. She glanced up at T'Pol before changing the setting on her instrument. "Lizzie. Yes, I did. Why do you ask?"

"Forgive me if this subject is not appropriate for you. I was simply having difficulty understanding the Commander's inability to move on." She sat stock still, waiting patiently as the tricorder worked through it's results, and Laura tried to formulate a response.

"To be direct, Sub-Commander, you make it sound as if he doesn't want to. He's doubting himself, wondering if there was anything he could've done to stop it. Self-doubt is a common human trait." She shut the tricorder down, and set it on a nearby table. Picking up the PADD, she carefully read the results the different scans had given her.

"It is a pointless exercise. Commander Tucker could not have stopped the attack any more than he could save his sister had he been there."

Laura smiled sadly. "I've told him that many times. So have countless other people. To everyone else, it's obvious. To him, we're all just trying to make him feel better." She set the PADD down, and crossed her hands in front of her. "I'm all done here, Sub-Commander. You're in perfect working order. And thank you for being so prompt about scheduling your physical. It's very appreciated."

T'Pol slid off the biobed, and straightened, standing poised and ram rod straight. She inclined her head slightly. "Thank you, Lieutenant. You make the process somewhat bearable."

Laura smiled as the Sub-Commander left. She knew that her comment was as close to a compliment as she was going to get. She carried the PADD over to her computer and set to work on entering the new data. She wished it were as easy as T'Pol let on. Just push a button, push a lever, and whammo! Trip realizes the attack had nothing to do with him, and would've happened whether he was there or not. Despite his steadfast denials, Laura, and just about everyone else on board, knew that the Commander was having trouble coping. He wasn't eating well; meals were much too short, or non-existent all together. Being a doctor, it frustrated Laura that she could not help someone who was obviously in need.

All thoughts of Trip were pushed from her mind as the doors to sickbay opened, and Dr. Phlox entered, carrying a plate of greens from the mess hall.

"Did Chef have what you were looking for?"she asked, rising and joining the doctor on the far side of the room. He set the plate down next to one of various cages around the room, and peered in through the mesh top.

"He most certainly did. Although he was rather irate when I suggested that I was feeding them to a Tandarian mud beetle."

Laura chuckled softly. "I imagine he was. Mud beetles don't express their appreciation like people do." She handed Phlox a piece of lettuce.

"Oh, they do if you look in the right places,"he said quietly, placing the leaf carefully down on the floor of the dirt filled tank. "I understand the Sub-Commander had her physical?"

She nodded. "Yup. Everything up to specs." A slight frown crossed her face, as she considered how to phrase her next question.

"Um, doctor, has Commander Tucker been in to see you? Um, for his physical?" For a moment, Dr. Phlox didn't respond. He spoke quietly to the small six legged creature, stroking the hard mottled brown shell that covered its back. Then he straightened, replaced the lid to the tank, and turned to face Laura.

"Commander Tucker needs medical attention. He thinks it has escaped me just how much weight he has lost, and how much trouble he is having sleeping. However, he will not come to see me simply because I wish it. Perhaps you can talk to him. You two seem to have a fairly strong relationship."

The Lieutenant opened her mouth to get defensive, but changed her mind and shut her mouth with a snap. Like she had done earlier, she had assumed that Phlox knew about Trip and her. In reality, he was only talking about their childhood together.

"I'll do my best, but I can't give you any guarantees."

An hour after meeting the Captain for lunch, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed left the mess hall together, heading for the lift that would take them to their respective departments. After a few moments, Malcolm spoke up, with a forceful sounding casualness.

"So, you said you were doing repairs in engineering before lunch?"

Trip cast him a sidelong glance, before saying, "yeah, that's right. What's it to you?"

The Lieutenant suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Well, I went down to engineering this morning, to see if you could look over some specs. Your crew said you weren't there, hadn't been there all morning."

Trip's anger rose quickly. Instead of thinking for a minute, formulating a strong and believable excuse, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You accusing me of lying, Lieutenant?"

Oh, that's just great, he thought to himself. So unlike me to speak without thinking.

He expected the younger man to shrink under his gaze. Certainly, a few years ago, he would've. But partly thanks to Commander Tucker, Malcolm had changed. He stood tall and unmoving, and shook his head.

"No, sir, I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm not really used to this whole close friendship thing, but I was pretty sure it included some trust."

He turned sharply on his heels, and continued on to the lift. Trip watched him go, his jaw slightly open with shock. The way the Brit talked, one might think he knew about his relationship with Laura. But no, he couldn't possibly. He was talking about something completely different.

"Hey, wait up!"he shouted to Malcolm, breaking into a jog. He caught his friend just as he was turning the next corner in the corridor, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to a stop.

"Look, you're right about trust, Mal. I was just..."he trailed off, caught in the skeptical glare in the man's eyes. He sighed. "I was catching up on some sleep. You know I haven't been sleeping well, and it finally caught up with me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but you know the Captain. He'd probably confine me to quarters."

Malcolm smiled conspiratorially. Yes. Yes, I'm sure he would. You are alright, though?"

Trip nodded. "Never been better." He paused, thought for a moment. "Okay, that was a lie. But I've never been better in the expanse. How's that?"

The other man nodded. "That's good. You are still able to make dinner tonight?"

"You bet." Trip clapped Malcolm on the back, and they continued on to the lift.