Title: The Impossible Dream Author: Chocolatequeen Rating: PG Archiving: Archers and Endeavors, anywhere else please ask Disclaimer: I own neither Enterprise nor Don Quixote. The chapter title refers to the method in which Dr. Carrasco forced Don Quixote to see the truth of who he really was. Summary: After watching a recording of his high school play, Jon finds himself lost in another world.

Chapter 6: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

T'Pol could hear Jon's ramblings long before she reached the mess hall. "I cannot sit here idle any longer Sancho," he declared. "It is not seemly for a knight to laze about as though he had nothing better to do. I must continue my quest!"

The Sub-commander's quick mind realized that this was the way to get him to sickbay. "If I phrase it as a plea for help, he will feel honor bound to come with me," she murmured as she walked into the mess.

Archer spotted her instantly, his smile lighting up the room. "Dulcinea!" he exclaimed. "What fortunate turn of events has brought you back to this place?"

"I regret my lord that is trouble, not fortune, that brings me to you," she replied, affecting as much distress as could be expected from a stoic Vulcan.

Apparently it was enough, for his smile gave way to a look of concern. "Is there any way I can be of service, my lady?" he offered anxiously.

"Could you come with me?" she asked. "Sancho is welcome to join us of course," she added hastily, catching the glance he threw back at Trip.

He stroked his chin, considering that for a moment before nodding slowly. "We shall be glad to help, eh Sancho?"

"Anything for the lady," Trip agreed with a grin.

"Follow me then," T'Pol said, stepping into the passageway and moving toward sickbay.

The trio walked in silence for a few minutes before Archer's curiosity got the best of him. "What exactly is it you need?" he inquired.

When T'Pol didn't answer immediately, Trip crossed his fingers and prayed that she could think of an answer-and fast. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her say, "There is something wrong in our sickbay, and the doctor requested that I obtain your help."

"I see," he answered, though it was obvious from his furrowed brow and puzzled tone that he didn't.

T'Pol took a moment to look at him over her shoulder. "We are almost to sickbay my lord. I promise this will make sense when we get there," she assured him when she caught sight of his confused expression.

He smiled beatifically and said, "I'm sure it will, my sweet Dulcinea."

His expression of pure infatuation and besotted tone of voice were almost becoming too much for the Vulcan to handle, but luckily for her they had arrived at their destination. "This is sickbay," she told him, opening the door and gesturing for him to go first.

"What kind of cur do you think I am?" he asked, aghast. "A gentleman always allows a lady to proceed before him," he insisted, refusing to move until she had walked through the door.

Making no attempts to dissuade him, T'Pol entered sickbay first, followed by the two men. "Doctor, I have petitioned the knight for his assistance, as you requested," she announced, hoping Dr. Phlox would catch on.

"Ah yes, thank you Dulcinea," Phlox responded. "Now sir," he said, turning to Archer as if to present his problem. Instead, he frowned, the bruise on the captain's head capturing his attention. "That's quite a bump you have there," he commented. "Why don't you let me treat it before we talk?"

"I would be most grateful Doctor. This infernal pounding in my head is getting quite distracting," Jon admitted ruefully.

"I imagine it is. Just take a seat here and I'll get you fixed up in no time," the doctor promised.

Jon obligingly sat down on one of the biobeds while Phlox reached for his hypospray. "Here you go Captain," he said, administering the drug.

"I'm not." Jon started before losing consciousness.

"Is everything as it should be Doctor?" T'Pol asked, startled by this turn of events.

"What? Oh! You mean because he's unconscious? Yes yes, that's to be expected. I added a mild sedative to the serum. It occurred to me that on the off chance this doesn't work, it would be easier to handle him if he wasn't awake. Now then," he said, picking up a scanner, "it appears that his brain activity is returning to normal. Barring any complications, the captain should be his old self by the time alpha shift goes on duty."

"Whew! That's a relief," Trip muttered, wiping his hand across his brow. "I mean, no offense Sub-commander, but I thought I was gonna puke if I heard him call you Dulcinea one more time."

"To be offended is an emotion Commander, and even if it was not, it would be an illogical reaction when you are merely expressing your relief that the captain will recover," T'Pol replied curtly.

"Yeah whatever," he answered with a smirk. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to bed." With that, he left sickbay in favor of his own quarters and a few hours of shut eye.

T'Pol lingered a while longer, watching her sleeping captain. "Is he showing any negative reaction to the medicine?" she asked.

Phlox hid his smile by glancing down at his scanner. "No Sub-commander, everything appears to be completely normal," he told her.

She nodded, her eyes still not meeting his. "Will he be able to return to duty tomorrow?" she questioned.

The doctor frowned, considering her request. "I would prefer to keep him here for observation," he answered after a minute. "That's a nasty lump he's got, he could have a concussion. Actually that's quite likely considering his delusions. Now unless I'm mistaken, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato are waiting to hear if we were successful or not," he reminded her.

"Thank you Doctor," she told him, looking up at him as she did. "I would appreciate it if you would let me answer any questions he may have myself, if you would inform me when he is released?" she requested.

"Of course," he replied as she left without a backward glance, intent on telling her subordinates that the mini-crisis was over.

Hoshi practically pounced on her the minute the door opened. "How is the captain ma'am? Did it work?" she asked anxiously.

"The captain is currently sleeping in sickbay," T'Pol told them. "Doctor Phlox assures me that the medication shows every sign of being effective, and as of yet there are no negative side effects."

"Will he be on the bridge tomorrow then?" Malcolm questioned.

"No, the doctor wishes to keep him for observation."

Hoshi looked at her, a worried frown settling on her face. "Then how are we going to keep this out of the logs?"

Before T'Pol could open her mouth, Malcolm answered for her. "It's simple Hoshi. All anyone needs to know is that the captain hit his head and got a concussion. We don't need to mention his delusions or the fact that he betrothed us to one another," he said with a grin, getting her back for her earlier comments about their relationship.

Hoshi shot him a dirty look and then said, "Oh, but what if I want them to know?"

Malcolm started to argue with her, but T'Pol cut him off. "No one will know anything more than the medical facts," she ordered. "And now may I suggest we all retire? It is only four hours until our shift starts."

"You asked for that one Lieutenant," Hoshi told him as they left the briefing room together.

"No I didn't," Malcolm protested. "I was just." The rest of his statement was indecipherable to T'Pol as she walked in the opposite direction to reach her quarters.

8 Hours Later

A low mumble was the first indication Dr. Phlox had that his patient was waking up. "What was that Captain?" he inquired, picking up a scanner and walking toward the biobed.

"I said, 'Could someone get the marching band out of my head?" Archer repeated, more clearly this time.

"Ah. Well I'm afraid that marching band is courtesy of the bump you gave yourself last night," the doctor informed him.

"Last night? Wait a minute, how did I get here?" he asked, finally coherent enough to take in his surroundings.

Phlox looked at him a moment before answering. "Do you know where you are?" he asked finally.

"I'm in sickbay."

"And what's your name?"

"Jonathan Archer. Doc, what's going on here?" Jon asked, somewhat annoyed by the third degree.

"What do you do for a living, Jonathan?" Dr. Phlox queried, ignoring the captain's question.

"I'm the captain of the Starship Enterprise," he answered, now completely irritated. "And before you ask me anything else, my father's name was Henry, I have a dog named Porthos, and unless something has gone very wrong we've been in the Delphic Expanse for about six weeks."

"No, nothing is wrong Captain," Phlox said with a huge smile. In fact, everything seems to be exactly as it should be."

"Glad to hear it. Now would you mind telling me what that little game of twenty questions was about?" Jon demanded.

"It seems that early this morning you fell and hit your head. You were. well, let's just say we're glad you're back to normal," he said, evading the question. "And before you ask me anything else, Sub-commander T'Pol requested that I allow her to explain what happened after you are released this evening."

Anticipating his protests, he neatly sidestepped the conversation by changing the subject. "At the moment, I'll call Chef and have a tray sent for you, and then you ought to get more rest."

"Okay Doctor, you win. But somebody has some explaining to do," he glowered.

"And I'm sure you'll get the explanation you want. Later," Phlox assured him cheerfully.