Title: Family Affairs

Authors: Sita/ T'eyla

Genre: Angst/Romance

Rating: PG (for language)

Summary: When Enterprise is in Earth's orbit for a few days of shore leave, Trip, T'Pol and their newborn son go to visit Trip's parents. While on Earth they have to face the hostility and prejudices still existent in the human society of the 22nd century.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Enterprise, we're not making any money from this.

AN:This is our first try at writing together, we've both written fics of our own before though. We hope you enjoy it, please read & review :-).

Warning: This story is slightly AU. *STORY COMPLETE*

Chapter 1: News and Letters

There was no romantic candlelight dinner. There was no call at work: "There is something I have to tell you." There was no warning at all. T'Pol just looked up from her reading when Trip entered their quarters that evening and said: "I am pregnant." Then she concentrated on her book again.

Trip sat down hard. Fortunately he had been standing in front of the couch. He stared at her, at a loss for words, feeling faintly sick.

"But," he said. "But."

T'Pol looked back up at him and on her face there was no expression at all.

"But what, Charles?" she asked.

"But...you're pregnant?"

"I believe I just said so. How was your day?"

"What?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I said 'How was your day'."

"Routine...up until now. I never noticed today was April 1st."

"It is the 3rd of July. Are you feeling alright, Charles?" T'Pol gave him a look of genuine concern. "Are you not interested in what Dr Phlox said?"

He felt as if all his intestines had suddenly disappeared.

"So...so you're *really* pregnant?"

But there was no need to wait for an answer. T'Pol was Vulcan. Jokes were not her style. And Trip felt that he couldn't stay a minute longer. He had to run, had to tell someone that he would be - was - a father, that there would be a -

-###-

"Charles Tucker IV." Archer grinned. "Funny name for a Vulcan. And what if it is a girl?"

Trip was sitting on Jon's bed, absentmindedly scratching Porthos behind the ears and trying to stop his hands from shaking. He had run from his quarters, leaving his very confused Vulcan wife behind, and come straight here. It had taken a while for Archer to find out what was wrong since Trip had been stammering uncontrollably about proud fathers and April-fool jokes but after a while he had realized what Trip was trying to tell him. Now it had been Archer's turn to sit down. He had been stunned at first, but then the image of Trip pushing a baby carriage down Enterprise's hallways had come to him and that was when he had started laughing. He hadn't really been able to stop till now.

"I'll name her Mathilda, after my granny."

Trip looked up. "What's so funny?"

Archer shook his head.

"I just can't get used to the idea. A baby! Well, what did T'Pol say?"

"I thought she was joking first. I think I scared her."

Archer tried and failed to suppress a chuckle.

"I'd say she scared you. Your mom will be thrilled to hear the news. Are you going to call home today?"

Trip flinched and accidentally poked Porthos in the eye, who gave a yelp and hopped off his lap. He swallowed, trying to sound casual.

"Tomorrow, I s'pose."

Archer nodded and gave him a pat on the back.

"Well, congratulations, old buddy. You'd better get back to your quarters now or T'Pol will think you jumped out an airlock."

Trip grinned weakly and got up.

"Yeah, I'd better. See you later."

-###-

Two weeks later, Trip was sitting alone in his quarters, reading the first line of his letter for the umpteenth time. He had been sitting there for about an hour and all he had written yet was 'Dear Mom and Dad'. The words were beginning to blur before his eyes. Impatiently he shook his head and tried to concentrate. It shouldn't be that hard to tell your mother that her long-awaited grandchild ... well, wouldn't look exactly as she expected.

"Well, Mom, he definitely won't have my ears," Trip murmured. He remembered his visit to sickbay last week. Curious and a little anxious he had asked Dr Phlox to describe the effects of a Vulcan/human DNA combination.

"Oh, I've been awaiting that question, Commander. Since Vulcan genes are dominant, your son is going to look pure Vulcan on the outside. The insides, however, are another story." And Dr Phlox had launched into a lecture about the interesting organic differences between a pure Vulcan and a human/Vulcan hybrid, but Trip hadn't really been listening. Dr Phlox's statement about 'pure Vulcan on the outside' hadn't been a surprise to him, but it had reminded him quite bluntly of his current problem. There was no way of hiding the alien origin of his son. And there was no way of telling his mother that her grandson was half Vulcan.

If only I wasn't such a damn coward! Trip thought frustrated, staring down at his letter. Those damn letters. Of course he had written his parents about his marriage four months ago, how happy he was to have found such an intelligent, beautiful wife. He had told them everything - how much fun the wedding party had been, how Malcolm had insisted to kiss the bride; he had even given them a thorough description of the wedding cake. But he had not written T'Pol's name. And he had carefully avoided every reference to her origin and her...well, being Vulcan. He couldn't imagine his mother's reaction if she found out her son had married an alien woman. He remembered the letter in which she had ranted on about alien crewmembers serving on Enterprise. Then he had found it rather funny, if slightly annoying, not taking it seriously, but now he knew he had a real problem. He felt bad and ashamed for himself for his unspoken lies, especially since he hadn't told T'Pol about it. She had made no secret of the fact that he wouldn't be welcomed by her family on Vulcan, while he had left her believing that his family, if grudgingly, would eventually accept her. To tell the truth, he hadn't said much at all, changing the subject at the first opportunity.

And here he was, having to tell his mother that he was going to be father to a son she would never even allow in her house. He came to a decision.

'I know it's been a while since my last letter', he wrote, 'but there has been a lot on my mind lately. I'm sorry I'm a little late, but anyway, here are the news (maybe you want to sit down now): I want you to know that I'm going to be father to a son. I know this is very happy news, but there is something about my wife I haven't told you yet; I think the time to do so has come. I hope this won't change your feelings.'

He hesitated, re-reading the last sentence and shook his head. Of course it would change their feelings. His mother's feelings, anyway. He didn't really know about his dad. Sighing, he deleted the last sentence, considered, and removed the sentence before as well. Maybe he could tell them later in an extra letter, so as not to spoil the good news just now. Probably that would be best, he thought, and continued:

'Everything's fine, the doc says, and we're both very happy.'

Trip paused. S'pose we are, he thought and continued typing.

'We haven't decided on the name, we hadn't really time to talk about that yet. We were pretty busy lately, but I promise, as soon as Enterprise gets near home we'll come for a visit.'

I'm sure this won't happen for at least five years...Quickly he pushed the thought aside.

'Well, I think I have to give you some time for yourselves now. I'll keep you updated. Take care, say hi to everybody, love, Charles'

Trip leaned back in his chair and re-read what he had written.

You are such an asshole, he thought, disgusted. Neither his mom nor his dad had deserved this, and T'Pol least of all. Just as he was reaching for the delete button, the door swished open and T'Pol entered.

"Do you still have work to do?"

"Um, yes..." He shifted uncomfortably on his seat.

"Are you setting up the duty roster?" she asked, walking over to his desk. He tensed. The idea of her seeing that rotten letter was unbearable. Before he knew what he was doing he had hit the send button.

"Just finished," he said getting up and switched off the screen. "How're you feeling tonight?"

"I am rather tired," she said. "I think I will 'call it an evening', as you like to put it."

"Call it a day, honey," he said smiling. "Good night, then."

He watched her disappearing in the head, then he sat back down in his chair. Giving the screen a look of utter contempt he buried his head in his hands. After a while he got up and went to bed too, but it took him quite a long time to fall asleep.