*That's got to be some kind of record*, Archer thought with annoyance, as not five feet past the sickbay doors Phlox was already onto him. And he wasn't pleased…
"Captain Archer", he started in a reproachful tone, "I believe I *strongly* suggested you have a little rest before seeking out Sub Commander T'pol for your urgent… talk", his eyebrows were raised in question, reminding Jon of his Vulcal… *of Sub Commander T'pol*, he immediately corrected his possessive line of thought.
But, first things first.
Trying to elegantly deflect the question, Archer called upon all his diplomatic experience. "It simply dawned on me that I haven't been a very good Captain. I've been neglectful in my responsibilities and so I'm here to remedy that, Doctor", he said in a voice that brooked no argument.
"Oh?", Phlox asked, looking puzzled. In all his years he has yet to encounter a more responsible, conscientious commanding officer.
Jon couldn't help but think, *Yeah, Doc, I still can't believe it, myself…*
"I had to come back and check on the baby T'pol ... brought back from the ship", he stated *and see if T'pol is awake*, he added silently, though he would die before admitting that he couldn't wait until morning.
Stomping down on the anger that threatened to rise again at the thought of the price she'd very nearly paid for that rescue, Jon saw no need to involve Phlox in his thoughts on the matter. It was … personal. Highly so.
Not allowing himself to ponder why an open and shut case of disobeying an order seems to have been classified under 'personal' for him, he turned his attention back to the Doctor.
"Perfectly understandable, Captain", Phlox was, as always, quick to reassure, "you have been under a lot of stress, and naturally your top priority at that moment was Sub Commander T'pol".
Archer stifled a sardonic smile. *I wonder what he'd say if he knew that observation isn't quite limited to this one incident…*
"…rest assured Captain that I would have informed you of any unusual developments", Phlox finished, indicating with his head for Archer to follow him deeper into sickbay.
Pulling aside a curtain, Jon took a peek inside, then turned back to Phlox.
"The little guy is simply sleeping off his stasis induced coma", Phlox commented, as if anticipating his next question.
"So it's a boy, then? ", Archer asked gruffly, turning back to the tiny baby lying in the middle of the biobed, surrounded by pillows to prevent it.. him.. from rolling off.
Steeling himself against the protective urges brought on by the baby's vulnerability was surprisingly easy. All it took was the thought that this baby could have taken T'pol away from him, and all traces of the warm, mushy feelings – vanished.
Turning back to Phlox, Jon went for nonchalance "So Doc, seeing that I'm already here and everything, I thought I might as well check in on sc T'pol.. see if she's already awake..?"
At the knowing look on the Doctors face, he started backpaddling, "well, I could always come back later… I just thought to spare myself another trip.. ", he wandered off with a sigh. *Oh, what's the use? It's not like he doesn't already know how I feel*, Jon tried convincing himself, as he felt a blush spreading up over his neck and onto his face. *Damn that pale complexion*, he cursed for the 1000th time in his life, I guess we really are "Pink Skins"…
"No need to leave, Captain", Phlox said cheerfully, ever the matchmaker… "though unfortunately I'll be a little busy with checking the little guy over, so perhaps you should look in on her yourself… if you don't……" Phlox was already speaking to the Captain's back …."mind ".
**
He was staring.
Jon wasn't sure how long had passed, when suddenly he felt his left leg give out from under him. Quickly regaining his balance, he bit down on his bottom lip to keep from cursing as his numb leg started crawling with what sure felt like a million flesh eating ants.
Vigorously rubbing his leg to ease the pain, he dared a glance at T'pol's direction. *Still sleeping. Thank god. I wonder what she'd have thought had she woken up to catch me staring…*
Limping slightly back to her bedside, Jon gazed into her lovely face, becoming again lost in her. He never had a chance to observe her without her knowledge before. She was exquisite… the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
He was suddenly flooded by love…yes, love, for the woman lying asleep in front of him. He'd tried to fight it. Oh, how he'd tried… telling himself she was Vulcan, reminding himself what her people had done to this father…but with each passing day he was falling more and more in love with her.
Later contemplating his actions, he was sure it must have been temporary insanity, for he couldn't for the life of him recall ordering his left hand to leave his side in search of the soft skin of her cheek …
**
For the fifty third (now fourth) time since she'd woken up in sickbay, T'pol was contemplating her chosen course of action.
She'd been awake since he arrived.
T'pol was aware of his presence the minute she registered his scent .. he has obviously showered recently, and his natural scent was masked by his soap, yet still very distinct. *And*, she forced herself to acknowledge, *not as abrasive as she used to find it*.
Even though T'pol had 27.1 minutes to ascertain her exact reasoning for choosing this particular course of action, she has yet to reach a conclusion.
Naturally, she was fully aware the upcoming talk with the Captain would not be .. pleasant. She had disobeyed an order, and broken several regulations concerning mission conduct. Therefore, she would surely be reprimanded, even punished by the Captain for doing so.
It was only logical.
This, however, was not, she'd determined, her reason for lying there for the last 30.4 minutes, pretending to still be asleep, while it was not.
Still, some progress has been made, for she was beginning to recognize that it was not the Captain's reaction she's been .. dreading.., it was Jonathon's.
Looking at it from his point of view, she was sure her actions were perceived as an outright betrayal of his trust in her.
Although calmer and less impetuous than, say, Commander Tucker, Jon (as she'd taken to calling him in her thoughts) was still very much human. And even as one, his feelings in particular, she knew, ran deep.
It was, surprisingly, one of the things she.. admired.. the most about him.
Yet despite her insight, and knowing beforehand how deeply her actions would hurt him,
She had still followed through…
*Why then*, she again asked herself, *why did I want him there with me, and no one else?*
*Because you trust him with your life, it is only logical*, her logic argued.
*True*, she countered, *but you also trust Lt. Reed, yet you have not requested HIS presence…*
*It is because…*
Not able to come up with a logical explanation, and unwilling at this time to consider the illogical ones, her thoughts returned to the cause of her current predicament.
*Have I damaged our relationship beyond repair, or will he accept my reasoning? …*
even as she thought this, T'pol came to the sudden realization that he won't, since there were no logical arguments in her favor.
Her actions, she admitted to herself with no small amount of surprise, were impulsive, emotionally motivated and completely out of character.
*I will have to meditate much longer tonight.. *
T'pol was startled from her musings at Jonathon's quick intake of breath.
*Is he hurt*?, she wondered, awaiting further clues as to his wellbeing.
All she heard was silence, and it was only years of discipline prevented her from opening her eyes at that moment.
Just when she'd decided it was time to 'face the music' (what a colorful human expression…) , she felt it.
Just the very tips of his fingers, moving lightly, barely there on the skin of her right cheek, like butterfly wings.
In complete contrast to the physical sensations, a split second later T'pol was bombarded with Jon's feelings crushing against her mental shields, not fully enforced because of the unexpectedness of the contact.
A tide of feelings crushed at her walls, tumbling them down.. so many feelings all at once, all centered around her: relief, compassion, caring, concern…
Two emotions stood out, vying for dominance, each distinct - anger, no, fury even, and something else… something she couldn't identify, yet made her … feel… protected, cared for, cherished…
Yet that same feeling seemed to cause him … Pain??
Unable to contain her reaction to the onslaught of emotions, gasping in surprise T'pol abruptly flinched from his touch, conscious only of the necessity of breaking up their physical contact.
Taking a deep breath, T'pol's eyes snapped open to find his green ones staring back at her...