Title: Guilt and a T'hai'la (friend)
Rating: PG
Category: Trip/T'Pol
Summary: Sometimes we all need a friend
Disclaimer: Trip and T'Pol are not mine. I just enjoy exploring their characters.
A/N: This is a repost of my story that I posted and removed a while back.
"Look at her." Stipes said with disgust. "She just orders 'green tea' and sits off by herself."
"Something wrong with sitting by yourself, ensign?" Commander Tucker asked as he looked up at the engineer.
"She's acting all Vulcan superior again."
"Is that so?" He muttered absently.
"Of course. Just look at her." Stipes sat back in his chair with a sullen look. Trip did just that, but noticed nothing particularly different about her. Tired perhaps, maybe even a little unhappy, but not the old superiority complex that she'd originally brought on board.
"I wonder if she felt anything when Davis and Kendell died." Stipes's words brought His head around.
"What the hell do you mean by that?!" He asked.
"Repressed emotions... she sure didn't blink when that Klingon cut down Davis." Stipes words grew increasingly bitter. Inwardly Trip winced, knowing T'Pol could hear every word they said. He wanted to pop the younger guy a good right hook right here and now but it wasn't the time. Instead he gave him a warning. "Watch your words, Stipes."
"Or what?"
"The brig..."
"Hell, it'd be worth it. Maybe she'd feel something I beat you up here?" Stipes challenged.
"Don't do it, Stipes." Tucker warned, but he barely had time to react before Stipes landed a blow to his jaw. He was on his feet in an instant. Several blows were fended off before Stipes managed to hit him again. Finally, he turned the fight in his favour and managed to catch the younger man off guard. Before Stipes knew what hit him he was pinned to the floor with his arm twisted behind his back.
"Done?" Tucker asked. Stipes nodded his defeat and Tucker let him get up.
"Brig?" Stipes wheezed.
"Yeah."
~~Enterprise~~
"I'll just give you an analgesic and some anti-inflammatory medication, and you should be fine in a few days." Dr.Phlox said cheerfully as he injected Trip in the neck. Trip swung his feet over the side of the bed.
"Take it easy for the next while, Commander. You are very lucky that you don't have a severe concussion." The doctor said, looking him straight in the eye.
Trip frowned. "Its not like I was asking for it." He said. "He threw the first punch."
"What happened?" Archer asked
"Stipes and I were eatin' in the mess hall. He began to bad mouth the sub-commander, saying stuff he had no business sayin'."
"Such as?"
"Blaming T'Pol for the attack that killed Kendell and Davis... anyway, I warned him."
"Then he attacked you?"
"Yes." Trip got a really serious look on his face. "Captain, i swear i did not hit him back. The only thing i did was restrain him."
"I believe you, Trip." Archer assured him.
"Stipes' other victim corroborated you story." Phlox added.
"Other victim?"
"Minor abrasions." Phlox said. Trip nodded, sliding off the biobed. He and Archer left sickbay and headed down the corridor.
"Stipes is going to be court martialed." Archer said.
"It's a shame." He frowned.
"You know as well as I do that we can't allow that behavior onboard ship."
"I know." Trip agreed with a sigh. "Its just... if things had been different, maybe if I hadn't intervened, he'd still..."
"What would have happened if you hadn't intervened?" Archer asked.
"He probably would have gone after her." He admitted.
"And T'Pol would be in sickbay." The captain shook his head. "He's a good officer most of the time. It may be enough to get him a post on earth. The fact remains that he was for all intents and purposes ready to assault T'Pol. You did what you were supposed to. Don't feel guilty."
"Still..."
"Do you feel guilty for protecting T'Pol?"
"Hell no!" Trip's face shot up to meet the Captain's look. "Not for one moment do I feel bad about defending T'Pol. She was treated even worse than we were. Her own people lied to her and she takes the fall."
"Then go get some sleep. I'll get someone to cover your shift."
"Yes, sir."
Trip pressed the keypad to open his door and stepped inside.
~~Enterprise~~
T'Pol stared deep into the flame of the meditation candle. It flickered briefly, dancing across her eyes, but she didn't really see it. Her eyes were seeing the horror of Klingon warriors cutting down two officers, the roar of their victorious battle cry. She could smell the iron tang of human blood in the air as she and the remaining two others made their hurried departure. Metal rang on metal in the distance. One of the men stumbled and she pulled him to his feet. Hurried steps through dusty soil, carefully placed to avoid revealing themselves. The clouds of dust thrown up the feet of their pursuers. Blood. Sweat. Pain. Fear. Terror. Dust. Darkness as they found the caves. The remembrance of the rushing of her blood competing with the thump of boots even now increased her heart rate. Hours had passed through that long night before the sight of Tucker and Archer signaled safety. Another smell, precious in its familiarity, as they returned to Enterprise. Guilt. Standing silently as Captain Archer spoke the eulogies of the two slain officers. Looks of anger. Faces turned away as She entered rooms. Loneliness. Rejection. Finally, she could stand it no longer and left her quarters.
~~Enterprise~~
Four hours later Trip re-entered the now empty mess hall. He blew out a tired breath. Trying to sleep had been a failure. He just kept seeing Stipes and then T'Pol, and wondering why. 'Pecan Pie, if only chef had made some Pecan Pie.' He moved over to the food stasis chambers and quickly checked the labels on each. To his surprise, there was a slice of Pecan Pie. Placing it on a tray with a fork he moved to pour himself some hot cocoa.
"Is there more pie?" A voice echoed across the mess hall. Trip looked up.
"T'Pol... didn't know you liked it." He said.
"I find it pleasant." She said, moving toward him.
"I'll share mine if there's none."
"Thank you."
Trip carried his tray over to one of the tables near a window. He could hear T'Pol ordering her tea in the background but he paid little attention until she sat down next to him.
"I would like to accept your offer." She said. Trip turned to look at her and noticed her empty plate.
"Certainly." He cut the slice in half lengthwise and slid one half onto the second plate. Then he held the two slices up.
"I cut. You choose." Trip said. T'Pol gave him a quizzical look but accepted the slice on 'her' plate.
"What do you mean by 'I cut. You choose.'?" She asked as he was savoring his first bite.
"I have three older siblings." He told her. "We would fight sometimes over who got the biggest slice so whover cut the piece had to let the other one choose which piece they wanted." For a moment a smile tugged at his mouth. "Of course, then we'd fight over who had to cut."
"Over pie?"
"Pie, cake, candy... even pepperoni sticks ." At that Trip did smile. "We were a scrappy bunch but we held our own and we still squabble over mum's pecan pie."
"Do you miss them?"
"Sometimes. Amy is livin' in Ireland with her family. Both of my brothers are on Mars... got a brother working at Utopia Planitia. The other one's on the terraforming project." He said.
"I have one brother studying at the Ha'Gel Monastery." T'Pol said.
"Just one?"
"Yes." They were quiet for quite some time after that, both deep in their own thoughts.
Trip found himself returning to the cause of his late night wanderings, the ambush at Kendrin IV, the events leading up to it, and the events since. It had been a rare overnight stay planetside for the five members of the away team. Sometime during the night they'd been ambushed and Davis and Kendell had died at the hands of Klingon warriors. T'Pol and the other two survivors had managed to escape but were injured and seriously dehydrated when they reached Enterprise. Blame had been tossed around but had eventually landed on T'Pol. As far as most people thought, it had been her careless, or perhaps intentional, with holding of information which had led to the deaths. Very few, including Trip and Captain Archer, actually knew the truth, which actually exonerated T'Pol and cast shadows on the Vulcan High Command. He sighed.
"Am i to understand that whatever kept you up at this hour is still troubling you?" T'Pol asked, not unkindly. Trip glanced over at her before looking out the window again.
"Yep." He said, feeling depressed.
"Can i help?" She asked and this time he turned to look at her.
"They had no right to treat you the way they did." Trip said. "No one, not a Vulcan nor a human, should ever have to put up with this crap."
"People are rarely treated the way they 'should' be."
"I know... but it doesn't make it anymore right. They should be taking the heat for their own lies instead of dumping them on you. It wasn't your fault. You shouldn't have to carry it."
He paused for a moment to pull his emotions under control before continuing. "The incident with Stipes today... how many crew members do you think look at you and wonder the same thing?"
"Many." T'Pol spoke quietly.
"You're innocent T'Pol. They're blaming you for deaths that you're not responsible for." Trip had to stop.
"I know." Her voice was husky and he could see her struggle written all over her face.
"The accident wasn't your fault." He said, watching her. T'Pol looked away, her gaze moving to the stars which streamed past. Logic told her that she was indeed not responsible. Emotions told a different story, one in which she was the wicked witch of earth childrens' tales. She knew that she could not have prepared for the situation any differently and yet... the High Command had intentionally with held the information from her and Davis and Kendell had paid the price. Maybe if she'd... the maybes and should haves whirled around her.
"T'Pol..." Trip's voice broke through her turbulent thoughts. She met his eyes.
"Talk about it." He said. "Humans talk to figure our way through things. Maybe...?"
"Perhaps with time." T'Pol closed her eyes, seeking control of her emotions. In the background she could hear Trip moving around. Then, when her emotions were calming, she opened her eyes and stood up.
She picked up her plate and carried it to the wash rack. Trip reached to take it from her, bumping into her hand in the process. For a minute they remained there, hands touching, and then he set the plate in the rack, smiling almost shyly at her. T'Pol's breath caught in her throat.
"Thank you." She said finally.
"You're welcome." Trip turned to leave, but looked back for a moment. "If you need something..." He said quietly.
"It is a... comfort. Thank you." T'Pol lifted her chin and he acknowledged with a smile and a nod before exiting the room.
T'Pol found herself growing increasingly sleepy as she walked down the quiet corridors. Once in her quarters she lit her candles and settled into her nightly meditation ritual. 'Nothing more elusive than a friend to gain, nothing more precious than a friend to lose..' The words drifted through her mind. She had a friend in Charles 'Trip' Tucker and a precious one indeed.
TheEnd
Rating: PG
Category: Trip/T'Pol
Summary: Sometimes we all need a friend
Disclaimer: Trip and T'Pol are not mine. I just enjoy exploring their characters.
A/N: This is a repost of my story that I posted and removed a while back.
"Look at her." Stipes said with disgust. "She just orders 'green tea' and sits off by herself."
"Something wrong with sitting by yourself, ensign?" Commander Tucker asked as he looked up at the engineer.
"She's acting all Vulcan superior again."
"Is that so?" He muttered absently.
"Of course. Just look at her." Stipes sat back in his chair with a sullen look. Trip did just that, but noticed nothing particularly different about her. Tired perhaps, maybe even a little unhappy, but not the old superiority complex that she'd originally brought on board.
"I wonder if she felt anything when Davis and Kendell died." Stipes's words brought His head around.
"What the hell do you mean by that?!" He asked.
"Repressed emotions... she sure didn't blink when that Klingon cut down Davis." Stipes words grew increasingly bitter. Inwardly Trip winced, knowing T'Pol could hear every word they said. He wanted to pop the younger guy a good right hook right here and now but it wasn't the time. Instead he gave him a warning. "Watch your words, Stipes."
"Or what?"
"The brig..."
"Hell, it'd be worth it. Maybe she'd feel something I beat you up here?" Stipes challenged.
"Don't do it, Stipes." Tucker warned, but he barely had time to react before Stipes landed a blow to his jaw. He was on his feet in an instant. Several blows were fended off before Stipes managed to hit him again. Finally, he turned the fight in his favour and managed to catch the younger man off guard. Before Stipes knew what hit him he was pinned to the floor with his arm twisted behind his back.
"Done?" Tucker asked. Stipes nodded his defeat and Tucker let him get up.
"Brig?" Stipes wheezed.
"Yeah."
~~Enterprise~~
"I'll just give you an analgesic and some anti-inflammatory medication, and you should be fine in a few days." Dr.Phlox said cheerfully as he injected Trip in the neck. Trip swung his feet over the side of the bed.
"Take it easy for the next while, Commander. You are very lucky that you don't have a severe concussion." The doctor said, looking him straight in the eye.
Trip frowned. "Its not like I was asking for it." He said. "He threw the first punch."
"What happened?" Archer asked
"Stipes and I were eatin' in the mess hall. He began to bad mouth the sub-commander, saying stuff he had no business sayin'."
"Such as?"
"Blaming T'Pol for the attack that killed Kendell and Davis... anyway, I warned him."
"Then he attacked you?"
"Yes." Trip got a really serious look on his face. "Captain, i swear i did not hit him back. The only thing i did was restrain him."
"I believe you, Trip." Archer assured him.
"Stipes' other victim corroborated you story." Phlox added.
"Other victim?"
"Minor abrasions." Phlox said. Trip nodded, sliding off the biobed. He and Archer left sickbay and headed down the corridor.
"Stipes is going to be court martialed." Archer said.
"It's a shame." He frowned.
"You know as well as I do that we can't allow that behavior onboard ship."
"I know." Trip agreed with a sigh. "Its just... if things had been different, maybe if I hadn't intervened, he'd still..."
"What would have happened if you hadn't intervened?" Archer asked.
"He probably would have gone after her." He admitted.
"And T'Pol would be in sickbay." The captain shook his head. "He's a good officer most of the time. It may be enough to get him a post on earth. The fact remains that he was for all intents and purposes ready to assault T'Pol. You did what you were supposed to. Don't feel guilty."
"Still..."
"Do you feel guilty for protecting T'Pol?"
"Hell no!" Trip's face shot up to meet the Captain's look. "Not for one moment do I feel bad about defending T'Pol. She was treated even worse than we were. Her own people lied to her and she takes the fall."
"Then go get some sleep. I'll get someone to cover your shift."
"Yes, sir."
Trip pressed the keypad to open his door and stepped inside.
~~Enterprise~~
T'Pol stared deep into the flame of the meditation candle. It flickered briefly, dancing across her eyes, but she didn't really see it. Her eyes were seeing the horror of Klingon warriors cutting down two officers, the roar of their victorious battle cry. She could smell the iron tang of human blood in the air as she and the remaining two others made their hurried departure. Metal rang on metal in the distance. One of the men stumbled and she pulled him to his feet. Hurried steps through dusty soil, carefully placed to avoid revealing themselves. The clouds of dust thrown up the feet of their pursuers. Blood. Sweat. Pain. Fear. Terror. Dust. Darkness as they found the caves. The remembrance of the rushing of her blood competing with the thump of boots even now increased her heart rate. Hours had passed through that long night before the sight of Tucker and Archer signaled safety. Another smell, precious in its familiarity, as they returned to Enterprise. Guilt. Standing silently as Captain Archer spoke the eulogies of the two slain officers. Looks of anger. Faces turned away as She entered rooms. Loneliness. Rejection. Finally, she could stand it no longer and left her quarters.
~~Enterprise~~
Four hours later Trip re-entered the now empty mess hall. He blew out a tired breath. Trying to sleep had been a failure. He just kept seeing Stipes and then T'Pol, and wondering why. 'Pecan Pie, if only chef had made some Pecan Pie.' He moved over to the food stasis chambers and quickly checked the labels on each. To his surprise, there was a slice of Pecan Pie. Placing it on a tray with a fork he moved to pour himself some hot cocoa.
"Is there more pie?" A voice echoed across the mess hall. Trip looked up.
"T'Pol... didn't know you liked it." He said.
"I find it pleasant." She said, moving toward him.
"I'll share mine if there's none."
"Thank you."
Trip carried his tray over to one of the tables near a window. He could hear T'Pol ordering her tea in the background but he paid little attention until she sat down next to him.
"I would like to accept your offer." She said. Trip turned to look at her and noticed her empty plate.
"Certainly." He cut the slice in half lengthwise and slid one half onto the second plate. Then he held the two slices up.
"I cut. You choose." Trip said. T'Pol gave him a quizzical look but accepted the slice on 'her' plate.
"What do you mean by 'I cut. You choose.'?" She asked as he was savoring his first bite.
"I have three older siblings." He told her. "We would fight sometimes over who got the biggest slice so whover cut the piece had to let the other one choose which piece they wanted." For a moment a smile tugged at his mouth. "Of course, then we'd fight over who had to cut."
"Over pie?"
"Pie, cake, candy... even pepperoni sticks ." At that Trip did smile. "We were a scrappy bunch but we held our own and we still squabble over mum's pecan pie."
"Do you miss them?"
"Sometimes. Amy is livin' in Ireland with her family. Both of my brothers are on Mars... got a brother working at Utopia Planitia. The other one's on the terraforming project." He said.
"I have one brother studying at the Ha'Gel Monastery." T'Pol said.
"Just one?"
"Yes." They were quiet for quite some time after that, both deep in their own thoughts.
Trip found himself returning to the cause of his late night wanderings, the ambush at Kendrin IV, the events leading up to it, and the events since. It had been a rare overnight stay planetside for the five members of the away team. Sometime during the night they'd been ambushed and Davis and Kendell had died at the hands of Klingon warriors. T'Pol and the other two survivors had managed to escape but were injured and seriously dehydrated when they reached Enterprise. Blame had been tossed around but had eventually landed on T'Pol. As far as most people thought, it had been her careless, or perhaps intentional, with holding of information which had led to the deaths. Very few, including Trip and Captain Archer, actually knew the truth, which actually exonerated T'Pol and cast shadows on the Vulcan High Command. He sighed.
"Am i to understand that whatever kept you up at this hour is still troubling you?" T'Pol asked, not unkindly. Trip glanced over at her before looking out the window again.
"Yep." He said, feeling depressed.
"Can i help?" She asked and this time he turned to look at her.
"They had no right to treat you the way they did." Trip said. "No one, not a Vulcan nor a human, should ever have to put up with this crap."
"People are rarely treated the way they 'should' be."
"I know... but it doesn't make it anymore right. They should be taking the heat for their own lies instead of dumping them on you. It wasn't your fault. You shouldn't have to carry it."
He paused for a moment to pull his emotions under control before continuing. "The incident with Stipes today... how many crew members do you think look at you and wonder the same thing?"
"Many." T'Pol spoke quietly.
"You're innocent T'Pol. They're blaming you for deaths that you're not responsible for." Trip had to stop.
"I know." Her voice was husky and he could see her struggle written all over her face.
"The accident wasn't your fault." He said, watching her. T'Pol looked away, her gaze moving to the stars which streamed past. Logic told her that she was indeed not responsible. Emotions told a different story, one in which she was the wicked witch of earth childrens' tales. She knew that she could not have prepared for the situation any differently and yet... the High Command had intentionally with held the information from her and Davis and Kendell had paid the price. Maybe if she'd... the maybes and should haves whirled around her.
"T'Pol..." Trip's voice broke through her turbulent thoughts. She met his eyes.
"Talk about it." He said. "Humans talk to figure our way through things. Maybe...?"
"Perhaps with time." T'Pol closed her eyes, seeking control of her emotions. In the background she could hear Trip moving around. Then, when her emotions were calming, she opened her eyes and stood up.
She picked up her plate and carried it to the wash rack. Trip reached to take it from her, bumping into her hand in the process. For a minute they remained there, hands touching, and then he set the plate in the rack, smiling almost shyly at her. T'Pol's breath caught in her throat.
"Thank you." She said finally.
"You're welcome." Trip turned to leave, but looked back for a moment. "If you need something..." He said quietly.
"It is a... comfort. Thank you." T'Pol lifted her chin and he acknowledged with a smile and a nod before exiting the room.
T'Pol found herself growing increasingly sleepy as she walked down the quiet corridors. Once in her quarters she lit her candles and settled into her nightly meditation ritual. 'Nothing more elusive than a friend to gain, nothing more precious than a friend to lose..' The words drifted through her mind. She had a friend in Charles 'Trip' Tucker and a precious one indeed.
TheEnd