Special thanks to my beta reader - Susan. Now, at least I have developed the patience to actually let someone read it before I post.
Chapter 2 – The Sickbay BluesT'Pol, with hands clasped behind her back, made to turn away as if some invisible superior had barked 'dismissed.'
"Don't make me go and take off after you, T'Pol." T'Pol hesitated in mid-stride. The sickbay door never had looked so unattainable.
To her discerning review, the commander had not even gotten out the driveway on his trip down the road to recovery. Where did that come from, she thought? One of the hazards of a mind meld with this human? T'Pol speculated as to what other surprises were in store for both of them. She calculated the amount of time she would have to meditate to insure that no quaint human epigrams accidentally found their way into her daily speech. I may have to request additional time off from the captain, she concluded. She did not make eye contact with the Commander, but rejoined, "Given your present circumstances, I doubt that you would be successful."
"Are you so sure?" Trip was sure, but as T'Pol turned back, he reckoned that she was not willing to call his bluff. He didn't realize that he had strained forward when he thought that she was going to leave. For a moment he relaxed back and closed his eyes.
"You stayed with me."
It was a simple statement. T'Pol knew that he referred to more than just the rescue or her attendance on him in sickbay. She was not yet ready to acknowledge all of the statement's implications. "I completed my duty shifts when required."
Trip looked up at her and smiled. "Would those duty shifts you're talking about be the ones here or on the bridge?" As he attempted to sit up, Trip flounced the sheet out of his way. She recognized the utilitarian sickbay gown he wore. His left leg was immobilized in a lightweight frame that supported the mending break.
"Are you purposely being obtuse, Commander, or are you trying to provoke me?"
"Would it do me any good?" Suddenly Trip felt like he was a salmon fighting his was upstream. He was tired and just a little dizzy from his first effort to get vertical in two days.
Dr. Phlox simply shook his head. Being a doctor, he recognized the complexities of a mating ritual when he saw it. Why were so many species loath to admit an attraction? Hmmm, he thought to himself. There were quite a few examples of species that kill their partners after mating. He looked back at the human and Vulcan – and smiled to himself. At least they were already in sickbay, if it came to that.
The Denobulan cleared his throat rather loudly, finally gaining the attention of the sparing couple. "I think that we should notify the captain that Mr. Tucker has decided to rejoin the crew."
"Sickbay to the bridge."
"Archer to sickbay. Do we have an update, doctor?"
"Why don't you come and see for yourself. But you may want to make it fast, Captain. Mr. Tucker needs his rest."
"I'll be down, straight away doctor." There was a gratified murmur and smiles shared with everyone on the bridge. Malcolm looked at the Captain expectantly.
Archer did not disappoint him. "Malcolm, why don't you join me? I may need your assistance to forcibly restrain the Commander. When he finds out what is going on in Engineering without his supervision…"
Malcolm truly grinned for the first time in days. Archer knew these men had grown close over the past few months. Trip seemed to have gotten the Lieutenant to loosen up a bit. Trip's tendency for stream of conscious ramblings and laconic wit was a good compliment to the more grounded Mr. Reed.
When Archer and Reed arrived in sickbay, they barely got to the door before they heard an argument occurring inside. Ensign Kelly passed the captain and armory officer as they entered. Archer thought that he heard her say, "I'm so sorry Captain" and reflected that her flight from sickbay resembled a hasty retreat.
Archer whispered through gritted teeth to Malcolm. "I thought the doctor said that Trip needed to rest?"
Malcolm shrugged, replying, "I seems that word of the progress in engineering proceeded us."
"I jus' need ta' see what's going on in Engineering. There's Aviari-ans, Vulc-ans and who knows what other 'Ans all over my engines…"
Archer approached. "Those others would be Hum-ans, Trip - your team. They're working three shifts 'round the clock to get engineering in order – mostly for you, I might add. We're lucky to have the help from the planet and the Vulcan's. Damage like this would have required us to go back to space dock at the very least. As it is, the work will probably be done in a few more days." Archer gave the commander a measuring look. Trip was pale and definitely pained by more than his frustration with the current situation.
T'Pol watched the doctor as he attempted to restrain Trip from sitting up in the bed. Annoying, exasperating human, she contemplated. Her fingers flexed as she contemplated using a Vulcan neck pinch on the recalcitrant engineer.
"Good to see you back to your sunny and stubborn self, Commander." Malcolm couldn't blame the engineer. He well understood where the Commander was coming from.
Archer added, "Trip, your station is here for…" He glanced at the doctor.
"At least for two more days, to be followed up with rest in his quarters for at least another three," finished the doctor. The Denobulan gave up trying to restrain the commander, who was still mulishly trying to get off the biobed. He moved over to one of the cabinets and started to prep a hypospray. As he turned, he noted that the Captain silently put up a hand, postponing the injection.
"If you are going to proceed with this mule-headed plan, you're going to have to get to engineering under your own power."
"That's just fine with me," Trip added as he swung his legs slowly over the edge of the bed. Maybe this isn't such a good idea, Trip thought. Bending over to sit up hurt like a sonofabitch.
Archer could see the engineer gasping as he tried to master his uncooperative body. He broke into a sweat as he placed his bare feet flat on the floor. For the first time, Archer saw the brace supporting Trip's leg. He winced, but he knew his friend all too well. Hard lessons were almost always more effective than lectures. He just wished that Trip would spare himself a few once in a while.
T'Pol took a step forward, but the captain extended his arm blocking her from assisting.
For a moment, Archer thought that Trip might just make it out of sheer pigheadedness. He took one step toward the captain. Suddenly Archer noticed Trip's eyes roll back as he started to pitch to one side. Jon acted swiftly, grasping the engineer under both arms. T'Pol took the Commander's feet and together they swung him back unto the biobed.
They thought he was out until he said, "Alright. Point made."
"Glad you finally agree," added the Captain. The doctor approached and leaned over to inject Tucker's neck with the contents of a hypospray.
Trip's eyes opened and he slurred, "What was that?"
"Just something to take the edge off the pain and help you sleep," responded Dr. Phlox.
"Mmmm. Working." Soon, the commander's breathing evened.
Malcolm asked the doctor the question that was all foremost in their minds. "Is there any chance that you could keep giving him that," Malcolm pointed to the hypospray, "for a bit longer?" The Captain tried to hide a smile by turning rapt attention to contemplating the tops of his shoes.
"If you can keep Mr. Tucker's engineering team out of sick bay for the next two days, I think we might be able to accommodate that request."
"I heard that," mumbled Trip as sleep finally caught up with him.
TBC…
