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Stories: Neat (G - PG13) | With a Twist (R)
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Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine
Archer walked around the command center. He looked at the star charts, wondering if the information the Benovulans had provided would be helpful. He recalled the events that happened earlier that day.
Archer addressed the Benovulan council, standing in a rotunda. He was in the middle of a circular group of desks where twelve council members were seated. T'Pol was also standing with her hands clasped behind her back.
Archer argued, "Council, if the Xindi can build a weapon to destroy Earth, no doubt they could use this weapon against any planet in the Expanse. You yourselves have stated you have a tenuous peace with these people."
Larana stood, "How do we know we can trust you, Captain?"
He smiled at her. "Your people and mine have a lot in common. I know because of the hospitality you've shown me. By visiting your museums and meeting your people, I know Benovulans are educated and interested in peace. You are creative and sentimental. You value art, science, literature, history…. My people value these things as well."
Dralan shook his head. "It would be against policy to align ourselves with anyone, much less people we have just met."
T'Pol spoke up, "My people, the Vulcans, have chosen to ally themselves with Earth. Captain Archer speaks truthfully about Earthlings and their values. Besides, he is not asking you to enter the war. He is merely asking you to provide information."
Larana said, "We would need something in return."
"Of course," agreed Archer.
"Information about your arts, literature, science …. Sharing information is extremely important to our people," she explained. "You said so yourself – we are educated people."
He looked back at T'Pol. "Seems agreeable."
Larana nodded, "Then, it is settled."
Dralan stood, "Larana, we have not taken a vote on this matter."
"I am the president of this council. I do not request a vote," she explained.
The councilman sat back in his chair and scoffed.
T'Pol raised her eyebrow at the events. She opened her communicator. "T'Pol to Enterprise."
"Tucker here."
"Captain Archer would like you to download the arts, literature, science and other cultural information from the Earth database," said T'Pol. "Have you located their system?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'll begin transferring the data right away," said Hoshi. "We should have it completely delivered within the hour."
Larana looked pleased. "For this, we will have a banquet in your honor."
Archer thought of T'Pol's logical plea on Earth's behalf, how her reasoning won them over. In fact, Larana herself delivered the data about the cloaked sphere where she indicated they had a munitions factory.
T'Pol. When she was in the science museum on the planet Benovula, she seemed to enjoy herself. Her eyes had a way of expressing such enthusiasm and curiosity even though she feigned no interest and hid her emotions. He said her name aloud; as the tip of his tongue touched his teeth.
He shook his head trying to focus. 'I just need to concentrate at the tasks at hand.'
The information Larana provided looked accurate. Although confirming this should've made Archer happy, he felt genuinely sad.
With some apathy he walked up to the comm. "Archer to the Bridge."
"T'Pol here. Go ahead, Captain."
"It's nice to hear your voice."
"Captain?"
"I reviewed the data the Benovulans supplied. It seems genuine. I've spotted anomalies in the direct path where they indicated the cloaked sphere would be. Lay in a course – 22, 89, 1 mark 3. Warp factor 3."
"Course laid in, sir," said Mayweather. "We should reach this area in four days."
"Long-range scanners are not detecting anything," said T'Pol.
"It's there."
Archer heard over the comm, "Ensign Sato, transfer this to the Ready Room over a secure line. I would like to speak with Captain Archer in private."
After a moment of silence, he heard again, "Captain, after being drugged by them, you trust the information they have given you?" asked T'Pol.
"You don't think I should?" Archer asked.
"No, I do not. I also think … due to your condition … I should review the information," said T'Pol.
"My condition? I'm not an invalid, T'Pol. But, if you think it's best, you can check it out. I'm in the command center."
"Very well, I will be there momentarily," said T'Pol.
Archer turned away from the comm. Suddenly, Archer wondered about his appearance. He looked into a screen that had been turned off, checking his reflection. He tried to straighten his hair. He breathed into his hand and found his breath was acceptable. He felt nervously excited at the chance of seeing her again and began to pace around the room.
She walked through the door and he wheeled around, grinning from ear-to-ear. He rushed her at the door. "Hi!"
She raised her eyebrow. "Hello."
He smiled blankly at her.
"I'm here to discuss the data," she reminded him.
"Sure," he said as he led her to a console. He offered her a seat and she sat down. He leaned in closely, looking at her over her shoulder at the monitor. "If you look there," pointing out one spot on the screen, "it appears this is the sphere they were telling us about."
She noticed he was very close, but she continued to stare at the screen. "It does indeed appear to be the one they mentioned."
"I think they called it Lanlth. Mmmm," he said softly. "What perfume are you wearing?"
"I do not wear any," she explained. "Although the data appears authentic, I am still unsure what may lie in wait for us there."
"Maybe it's your shampoo then. You smell very nice, whatever it is."
She looked up at him. "The sphere," she said, suggesting they focus their attention.
"Right. Sorry."
"I would like to take some long-range scans before we continue."
"Why?" he asked.
"Additional information, perhaps bio-signs or ships in the vicinity."
"Couldn't you do that on the way there?" he asked. "We have four days …."
"More readings will ensure we are choosing the correct course of action. In addition, this will provide time to determine and possibly cure your … illness."
"It would delay our mission." He frowned slightly and then softened his expression, not wanting to offend her. "You know how much I value your opinion, but I'm not sure I agree with you." He looked deeply into her eyes. "Do you have a recommendation?"
"Yes. Travel on impulse to our current heading until we have confirmed the data, determined the peaceful intent of the Benovulans and hopefully found a cure for you."
Her green eyes shimmered in the half-light of the room. He grinned, "All right. How can I argue with you?" He paused. "Had dinner yet?"
"No. I take it you would like me to order the ship to impulse then?" she asked.
"That's fine," he said. "Hungry?"
She furrowed her brow and walked over to the comm. "T'Pol to Mayweather."
"Mayweather here, ma'am."
"Ensign, I would like you to alter our speed to impulse."
Brief pause. "Yes, ma'am."
"T'Pol out."
Archer stood behind her the entire time, gazing at her. "If you're hungry … we could have dinner or something?"
"I am required back on the bridge."
"Right. I'll walk you back."
"I do not require an escort."
He laughed nervously, "I know. I just wanted to walk with you."
"Captain, although I … enjoy … your company, I suggest we limit the amount of time we spend together."
He smiled, "A rain check then?"
"Another day? Yes, that seems agreeable," she said as she walked out. Archer looked after the door for a few moments with longing. He wanted to see her again soon. He needed to see her again soon. He shook his head. He didn't really agree with her decision. Why had he agreed? Oh, well. She was brilliant; she probably knew what was best.
Archer couldn't think about anything other than when he would see T'Pol next. He'd lost his focus on work and instead thought about her smell lingering in the command center. In fact, he spent almost thirty minutes thinking about their brief conversation wondering what she meant when she said she enjoyed spending time with him. Although that should have elated him, he felt unhappy again.
"Phlox to Captain Archer."
"This is Archer," he said with disinterest.
"Captain, I'd like you to report to Sickbay right away."
"Sure. Fine."
"I'll see you in a few minutes," replied Phlox.
Archer shuffled his feet to Sickbay. He assumed Phlox had found out something, but knew it wasn't good. He wasn't sure why he assumed it wouldn't be good news, he just felt pessimistic. He walked in to find a smiling physician.
"How are you feeling?" asked Phlox.
"A little blue."
"You look rather pink to me – ha." Phlox made a honking sound trying to imitate laughter.
Archer looked nonplussed. "You called me in here?"
"I wanted to engage in a joke before delivering bad news, Captain. I believe you call it an ice breaker."
"Right. Well, might as well just give it to me."
"Hmmmm. Your mood confirms my diagnosis – your symptoms are getting worse. And your condition may not be temporary. It appears what you were given was a catalyst of some sort."
"Swell," he said sarcastically.
Phlox frowned, "I'll definitely need Sub-commander T'Pol's help with this problem. I would also suggest we contact the Benovulans for their help, assuming they want to give it."
Hearing his first officer's name lifted his spirits slightly; Jon smiled weakly. "She has her hands pretty full at the moment, and the ship and the mission is her first priority. Is there another science officer you can work with?"
"Unfortunately, T'Pol and I are the most acquainted with Xenobiology, Xenophysiology and Xenochemistry. I'd prefer her expertise."
"Well, look, Doc. I'm okay. I can wait it out."
Phlox motioned to the bio-bed. "Sit down, I'd like to take a look at your readings."
"I was only in here about an hour or so ago."
"I realize that," said Phlox. "My studies indicate your illness will worsen quickly. And as I mentioned, it appears it already has. If I take a few more readings I can provide some suggestions on treatment, since you'll have to 'wait it out.'"
Archer acquiesced, hopping up and lying back on the bio-bed.
Phlox looked at the readings and folded his arms with dissatisfaction. "Just as I thought. Captain, if you were to rate your mood on a scale of one, happy, to ten, very depressed, where would it be?"
Archer hemmed and hawed, "I don't know. I said I was blue."
"For example, a funeral might be a 'ten,'" said Phlox, trying to drag the information out of him.
"Whose funeral?"
Phlox turned his mouth down. "Captain?"
"I don't know. An eight I guess."
"Hmmm. Now, I know how you will react, but as your physician I strongly advise this." He paused. "I think you should take anti-depressants until this can be worked out."
Archer sat up quickly. "No way."
"I would like you to think about it. This depression may creep up on you, which could be dangerous. And, you shouldn't feel ashamed of anti-depressants. In fact on Rangor VII, the …."
"No."
"I'm not going to order you. But, I would like you to think about it. Depression is a medical illness, not a deficiency in coping skills or personality."
"I'll think about it." Archer looked up at the chronometer. It was 2000 hours.
Phlox smiled. "Good. Now, you may not be hungry, but I suggest you get something to eat soon. And, watch your level of sleep. If you feel more tired than usual or less tired than usual, let me know."
Archer nodded and meandered toward the door. For some reason his mind was fixated on finding out whether T'Pol had taken any long-range scans. Rather than use the comm, he wanted to walk to her quarters and talk with her face-to-face. Maybe it would cheer him up. He knew something else was happening at 2000 hours, but couldn't remember what.
*****************************************************************
Trip took off his shirt and said, "You know, I could kinda get used to this."
"Used to this?" asked T'Pol rubbing her hands together, trying to warm them up.
He lay down on her bed and stretched out on his stomach. "Yeah, you know. I guess I'm starting to enjoy our evening ritual."
She raised her eyebrow and began placing her hands on his back. "Is this helping your sleeping patterns?"
"Oh yeah," he said breathlessly as she obviously hit a pressure point.
"Commander, take a deep breath."
He did and held it for a moment as she had shown him. He let it go as her hand worked down his back.
"So, you have a good time on the planet?" asked Trip.
"We toured the city and received the information the captain had requested. It was not unpleasurable, nor was it pleasurable."
"I wouldn't mind walking around a bit, visiting a city. See anything interesting?" he asked.
She thought about Captain Archer's strange behavior. "There were items of interest, but nothing to discuss."
"I don't know why the cap'n always seems to pick you for these assignments."
She eased off his back for a moment. "Commander, please refrain from talking. Neuropressure is best when conducted in a meditative trance, as we discussed."
The door chimed.
Trip looked up as T'Pol stood. "Continue your deep breathing."
He nodded.
She walked to the door and opened it, somewhat surprised to see Archer. However, her expression was stoic. "Captain?"
He smiled at her. He leaned against the portal and gazed at her figure. She was dressed in her blue pajamas and had the top and bottom two buttons undone, showing off her neckline and small, tan waist. "Uhm, I wanted to see if you were able to take those long-range scans we discussed."
She raised her eyebrow. "I am still recording that data. Currently, I am giving Commander Tucker his neuropressure treatment."
"In that?" he asked with alarm.
"I prefer loose clothing during this procedure. And, I was hoping Commander Tucker could return the favor tonight."
"I thought you told me that this treatment had to be performed on bare skin," he said.
"That is correct."
"Commander Tucker performs neuropressure on you?" asked Archer, his face reddening.
"Sometimes."
"Not tonight," he said. He brushed past her into her room and looked at Trip who was sitting up on her bed, shirtless and shoeless.
"Hey, Cap'n. There something wrong?"
Archer noticed the candlelight and soft music, and felt something akin to rage build up in the pit of his stomach. "Treatment's over."
Tucker looked completely confused. T'Pol walked over. "Captain, I would suggest …."
He continued to keep his glare on his engineer. "I said treatment's over."
Trip picked up his shirt and began to put it on. T'Pol tried again, "Captain, you're not acting logically. I would suggest you are being affected by …."
"That's an order, Commander. Get back to your quarters," growled Archer. He folded his arms and continued to stare threateningly at Trip, watching him put his shoes on.
Trip explained, "Cap'n, I thought you knew she was helpin' me sleep."
Archer remained silent, fighting the urge to take a swing at his long-time friend.
Commander Tucker shook his head and started for the door. T'Pol said quietly as he neared the door, "I will contact you later."
Trip nodded as he walked out.
As the door slid shut, Archer turned around, puzzled, "What were you thinking?"
"I might ask you the same question," she said with almost an angry tone in her voice.
He stammered seeking out the right words, but felt completely lost for the ones that accurately described how he felt. He didn't want to yell at her; he was sure it wasn't her fault, but he felt … betrayed, nervous, upset and yet happy to see her.
"You barged into my quarters as if in a jealous rage and ordered Commander Tucker to leave."
"You attracted to Trip?"
She furrowed her brows more. "You are ignoring your culpability. Besides, this conversation is hardly appropriate. Whether I am attracted to him or not is none of your concern. It is obvious you are being affected by the ailment Dr. Phlox spoke to us about. I would suggest …."
"I'll take that as a 'yes.' Just let me know when you find out about the long-range scans." He tightened his lips, trying to keep a handle on his emotions and began to head for the door.
T'Pol felt exasperated, but didn't show it. "Captain?" she said softly.
He continued marching toward the door.
She managed to catch his arm before the door opened. "I think Commander Tucker is attractive, but I am not … interested in him in that manner."
Something about the way she said that made him feel so much better. He decided to press his luck. "Really?"
She leveled her gaze at him. "I am not interested in anyone on this ship in that manner, no matter how attractive I think he is."
"Oh," he said, searching his feelings.
"Did Dr. Phlox give you an update on your condition?"
"Uh, yeah. He'll need to look into it further. He thinks I consumed a catalyst of some sort."
T'Pol raised her eyebrows. "How are you feeling?"
"I've felt worse," he said.
"Captain, do you understand why I am not interested in anyone aboard this ship?"
"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me."
She raised both eyebrows and continued, "It would be inappropriate for me to act on an attraction. It would be inappropriate toward a commanding officer, or an officer under my command."
He noticed he was having a hard time looking away from her bare skin. He began to button her top. "I'm sure if I wasn't under the influence of this … drug, I'd agree with you." He felt his body giving in a little as he murmured, "Actually, I'm not sure."
She stepped away from his touch and said evenly. "I will contact you when the long-range scans are complete."
"Right. The scans." He lingered, gazing into her eyes.
"Perhaps it is best if we discontinue working together for the time being. I believe I should work from my quarters until your condition is … resolved."
He frowned, "I'm sorry. Does my presence bother you that much, T'Pol?"
"It appears my presence 'bothers' you that much," she whispered. "I notice you have difficulty concentrating when I am in the room with you. I dare not think about what would happen on the bridge."
"That's just it, I'd have this problem whether you're in the room or not."
"Do you feel you can still command this vessel?"
He thought about it for a moment. "I think so. Yes."
"Captain, I also wish to avoid any embarrassing situations."
He smirked, "Like the one that just happened with Trip."
"Yes, for one."
He sighed, "I know you're right. I'm sorry."
"I understand your reactions are beyond your control." She raised her eyebrow.
"I hope I haven't offended you."
"No. Not yet."
"I guess I should go," he said walking toward the door. "Probably should apologize to Trip."
"I believe your friends would understand your accidental transgressions, Captain." She paused. "I would."
"You're a good friend," he smiled, as he walked out the door.
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Video captures by fabulous Enterprise 8875©2003.
Reviews provided by Monica.