Title: Unified Field
Author: HopefulNebula (HopefulNebula@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG
Summary: Trip and T'Pol explore the consequences of their feelings for one another. A little story that picks up about a week after "Truth and Illusion" (That means you should read T&I before this… You've been warned.). T/T, obviously.
Disclaimer: Sadly, Rick Berman and Brannon Braga own Enterprise. I own whatever fur my cat sheds on me and this computer.
Spoilers: Minor ones for "The Catwalk" and "Horizon," but they're not crucial to this. It also helps if you've seen A Beautiful Mind, but it's not crucial. (I don't own that, either. My apologies if I get some details wrong; it's been a while since I've seen it.) Besides that, there's nothing that isn't covered in T&I.
Feedback: At least to let me know you've read this.
~~~~~
The week had gone by too slowly for Trip. The worst part wasn't all the repairs and preventive maintenance he'd made to the warp core, or Malcolm carping at him about how the security grid needed another upgrade ("I busted my ass last month giving you the one you have now. I'm not going to do that again for a while, Mal," had been the response that eventually worked), or even having to extinguish yet another fire in the port injector. This was the first time all week he had even had a chance to sit down in his office. No, worse than all that tenfold was the fact that he hadn't been able to see T'Pol for more than a few minutes at once since their meeting in the mess hall, and he had even had to glean those from his few visitations to the Bridge. At first it had been intentional; he had kept it cool so they could both go slowly and, above all, discreetly. After all, the High Command (and probably Starfleet as well) would definitely frown upon a romantic relationship between a human and a Vulcan. But after the first couple of days, he had found himself avoiding her for fear that what had happened that glorious evening was the night's final illusion, the last trick his mind had played on him. If it hadn't been real— No, Trip, he admonished himself, don't think about that. Just talk to her. What's the worst that can happen? But he knew the worst. Or at least he thought he knew.
He really did need to learn how to meditate; his trepidation was all-encompassing, controlling every decision involving her. And that way he could really spend some more time in her presence. That was all he needed to calm down. She would touch him again and—
"Commander? Commander Tucker… Trip!" Hoshi Sato's voice broke through Trip's thought-forged shield.
"Yeah, Hoshi?"
"Did you find the synopsis for tonight's movie?"
"I've got it right here," Trip replied. "It sounds good. I haven't seen it before, though."
"A Beautiful Mind is one of my favorites. You'd love it. I'm going with Malcolm," she reported.
"Oh. So which of you finally asked the other?" Trip inquired, half-jokingly.
"Neither of us. I'm going to drag him down there tonight."
"Good luck!"
"Thanks. I'll need it. Well, I've got to take a shower and find Malcolm before the movie begins, and you know how reclusive he can be. I'd better get going."
"See you, Hoshi." Was it really that late? He looked at the chronometer on his desk and saw that he had been musing about T'Pol for nearly an hour. He had been officially off duty as of forty-five minutes prior.
Well, he had been wanting to see the movie. Now would be the best time to transcend—or at least circumvent—his apprehension about his and T'Pol's budding relationship. She'd be off duty too by now, he reasoned, so he reached over to the comm panel by his door and moved to page her.
~~~~~
She had barely seen him in nearly a week. Whenever he had made his way onto the bridge to deliver reports on the status of Engineering or talk to the Captain, he had looked her in a manner that could only be described as uncertain. That was odd, no doubt; his feelings for her had been so unequivocal only a week ago. And with each passing instant, she found herself longing even more to simply be in the same room with him. His presence seemed to be what both cured and caused her emotional turmoil. She found that she missed his touch, that soft tender coolness that did strange things to her mind and made her entire body tingle.
She supposed it was better that he had avoided her for the first few days. She had to sort out what she felt, find a way to catalog her feelings. And he would have only hindered that effort during that time. But now—now she knew she wanted to be near him as much as possible. And he had left her only one option.
Rising from her meditation pad, she reached for the comm panel and called Trip.
~~~~~
"T'Pol to Commander Tucker," the comm chirped before Trip had a chance to even find the correct button.
"Yeah, T'Pol?"
"It is Tuesday."
"All day," Trip replied with a wry smile gracing his lips. "And you know what that means. It's Movie Night."
"Are you planning to see the movie?"
"Yes, I am. Do—do you want to come with me? It's a movie you'd like. All about a mathematician back on Earth a couple of centuries ago."
"I… was going to ask you the same thing. We have not been spending much time together lately," she added, dry humor lacing her voice and demeanor.
"Good. We've got a lot to talk about." One understatement deserves another, Trip thought. "How about dinner in my quarters afterwards?"
"That would be acceptable," T'Pol replied. "Shall we meet at 1700?"
"Sounds good. See you then." There was a momentary pause, then Trip added, "And T'Pol? Don't bring work this time, and don't wear your uniform. Movie Night is supposed to be time off." He then severed the connection to avoid the retort he knew would be coming and left Engineering for his quarters. After all, the scent of oil mixed with perspiration and the ravioli he'd spilled on himself at lunch would not be appealing to a human female, let alone a Vulcan one, he mused as he looked down at his soiled uniform and hands.
~~~~~
T'Pol spent nearly twenty minutes choosing the appropriate garment for such an occasion as Movie Night. For the first time, she thought of how small her wardrobe must be compared with that of some of the other Enterprise crewmembers. She had packed for economy at the beginning of the mission and as a result had very few choices now. She didn't think Trip would mind what she wore; one of the most unequivocal of his feelings was unconditional love. He had thought she was beautiful from the day she had so brazenly rebuffed his handshake; it didn't matter to him what she wore.
But inexplicably, it mattered to her. How human it felt to be standing in her quarters, worrying about clothing and movies. That her time on a Terran ship had affected her was not up for debate. The way it had changed her, however… T'Pol found it distasteful to think of how her life would be before she had met Trip. She would have been well respected by her Vulcan peers, for certain, as she had been before falling into either love or distaste. She would be bonded to Koss, who had never paid her any respect and thrived on popular opinion, and living in a region of Vulcan whose climate T'Pol found inhospitable. She would be, in a way, more distant from her family than she had already made herself. Yes, she would have been respected and possibly even liked by others, but she would not have been able to look at herself without reproaching herself for not attending to her own needs and feelings. T'Pol could not live with that thought, for what good was pleasing others if she could not live with her own self? She wanted to feel alive, if only for a few short years. And part of that was finding the right attire for this evening.
Her uniform had already been eliminated as a choice. There were several very formal Vulcan garments she had worn only a few times during her time as an Enterprise crewmember, but those irritated her skin, and besides, they did not feel right. Her assorted meditation robes were quite comfortable, but somehow inappropriate for the occasion. One garment, however, remained: an ankle-length blood-green silken dress with sleeves that extended to her elbows, then flared slightly, exposing her forearms. The neckline, sleeves and hem were stitched in tiny embroidery with golden thread. It was far from traditional, but still considered acceptable. The dress had been her mother's once and was one of her most treasured possessions, even though T'Pol had never worn it herself. It would do quite nicely.
~~~~~
The hall was already buzzing with activity when Trip arrived; he quickly scanned the occupied chairs and was slightly dismayed not to see T'Pol filling any of them. There was Hoshi, who turned to say something to Malcolm, saw Trip, and waved; there were Archer and Nasreen and Annelle. Even Phlox had shown up. Everybody, it seemed to Trip, was there except for the one person who mattered. But he was early. It wasn't a big deal. And the popcorn was still warm. One of the perks of being on a starship while watching a movie, Trip mused, was that the popcorn was always fresh, and the floor not sticky, and he could put just as much dripping butter on top of it as he wanted to.
Would T'Pol eat popcorn? He wasn't certain, but didn't want to get her some without asking. So instead, he waited by the door for her arrival.
And suddenly, there she was, in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. Her eyes seemed even more colorful now. She looked vibrant in this form-fitting robe and his only thought was how stunning and perpetually wondrous she truly was.
Her presence in the room had garnered stares from the rest of the people who saw her. Luckily, T'Pol had been anticipating such a reaction from all the others. The only reaction that mattered to her was that of Trip. And where was he? Certainly not seated, though Archer was there staring at her. She scanned the room and soon found him standing next to the door, obviously waiting for her.
The look on his face caused her an inordinate amount of pleasure, and this pleasure surged even more when he said, "T'Pol—you look—I mean—wow." 'Wow' indeed, she thought, amusement showing in her eyes despite her attempts to stifle it.
"I was… unsure as to what would be an appropriate garment for—" she began to concede, but Trip interjected before she could continue.
"T'Pol, it's perfect. Movie'll be starting soon. Do you want popcorn, or should we just sit down?"
She pondered for a moment, staring down at the large bowl of popcorn in Trip's hands. Popcorn was now familiar to her; she had eaten it once before and found its texture quite strange. She would not mind having it again. "You seem to have enough popcorn for both of us, so we should find seats. You did say they'd 'fill up fast…'"
"'Kay. The best ones are in the middle, right about… Aha! There are a couple right up there." He pointed, indicating which seats he meant. "Shall we sit?" inquired the engineer, effecting a large fake bow. T'Pol simply maneuvered past the settling crowd to the spot he had pointed out. Trip followed her and both sat down just as the lights flashed twice, indicating that the movie would start in one minute.
"Hey," Hoshi said, tapping Trip on the back. Trip jumped slightly, but recovered as quickly as ever.
"Evenin', Hoshi," Trip replied, turning back in his seat and grinning at the petite linguist.
"I'm glad you could come today. Good evening, Sub-Commander! I didn't expect to see you here again so soon."
"The Commander invited me. He said that this would be a movie that I'd find fascinating."
"He's right," Hoshi confirmed. "Especially after what you and Trip went through last week."
As T'Pol turned to Trip to ask what Hoshi meant by that comment, the lights turned down and the movie started.
~~~~~
"OK. So now I know what Hoshi meant about the movie and last week," Trip remarked over a steaming bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.
T'Pol raised an eyebrow, not disputing Trip's comment, but in agreeing with it. "Indeed. The problems Nash faced in distinguishing reality from fantasy do parallel yours quite accurately."
Trip laughed. "That's one way of saying it. But what got me the most was that scene when Alicia's trying to convince John that she's real. That's the really creepy parallel."
"I saw your reaction during that particular scene," she confessed between forkfuls of her sandwich. Trip had found it quite amusing that after two years of life on Enterprise, she still cut up her sandwiches and ate the pieces using utensils. "I doubt the maintenance crew will enjoy cleaning up your spilled popcorn."
"Very funny, T'Pol. What about the popcorn you dropped when you took it from my bowl?" This accusation was obviously fake, and Trip had a hard time not grinning. T'Pol refused to reply. He of all people should be aware of the risk of eating with one's hands, she mused. But suddenly Trip changed the subject, or at least steered it back to its former topic. "Yeah. The way Alicia put John's hand on her heart and her hand on his, kinda like this—" Trip mimicked his description. His touch was just as cool and soft as she remembered. Such sensations she had never experienced before Trip had entered her life. He was overwhelmingly gentle in all his actions toward her, and this strengthened everything between them. His breath and hers became one as he unconsciously moved closer to her, never closing his eyes for fear this wasn't real. Both T'Pol and Trip forgot their food as they were too enrapt by each other's touch to care about anything else.
And then their lips met. T'Pol had thought that touching him was the most sensual thing she had ever experienced, but this kiss easily surpassed that. Her entire body was filling with warm, delicious sensations of arousal and she found herself unwilling to fight them as she reciprocated Trip's kiss, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck in order to become even closer to him. T'Pol was moaning now, and the very thought that he could provoke such a response in her immediately snapped her back to her normal Vulcan self, or at least as close to normal as she could ever become again.
"I cannot do this," she said, and abruptly pushed herself back from the table between them.
Before Trip had mind or identity enough to protest, she was already gone.
~~~~~
The first thing T'Pol noticed upon entering her quarters was that the 'message waiting' light on her computer was blinking. Trip had sent her a message. She took a moment to settle herself upon noticing this and sat, braced to receive what was likely to be a very hard message for her to read so soon. The communication, however, was quite short.
'In the deeps are the violence and terror of which psychology has warned us. But if you ride these monsters deeper down, if you drop with them farther over the world's rim, you find what our sciences cannot locate or name, the substrate, the ocean or matrix or ether which buoys the rest, which gives goodness its power for good, and evil its power for evil, the unified field: our complex and inexplicable caring for each other, and for our life together here. This is given. It is not learned.' ~~Annie Dillard
T'Pol, if you need to cool this down for a while or even break it off, that's fine. Just let me know you're OK. ~Trip
T'Pol re-read the message and closed her eyes. This would be a long night. Then, an idea came to her and she hit the button marked "reply."
I am all right. I simply require some time to think. ~T'Pol
Trip's response was nearly instantaneous.
OK. Talk to me whenever you feel up to it. ~Trip
That was it. No emotional plea for her to return to him, no furious tirade over the comm, no sign of hurt. He hadn't even followed her. All there was in his messages was understanding, and that quote. Trip had known she was afraid of her own primal emotions. He had understood. And more importantly, he had cared.
Meditation would not help her this night. Not after that kiss. But sleep could, so T'Pol changed into her nightgown, making sure to hang her dress up carefully.
~~~~~
He'd had the same dream every night since the incident on the planet. It had been one of his illusions down there after he had passed out. Though the details beyond a few meters of him would be quite vague—there would be the suggestion of a door and the shadow of a window, with foggy moonlight streaming in onto him—he would know that he was in the largest, most comfortable bed he had ever been in. The sheets were always pale blue and velvety. He would lay on his side, facing T'Pol, as she held him tightly in her arms and locked eyes with his. And then she would smile.
Therefore, Trip was hardly surprised when, after several fitful attempts to reach sleep, he arrived in the pale blue bed once more.
Except this time, T'Pol was gone.
~~~~~
Every time T'Pol came close to sleeping, parts of the quote Trip had sent her would enter her psyche as unbidden as the feelings she no longer denied she had for him.
…Ride these monsters deeper down, if you drop with them farther…
…Complex and inexplicable caring for each other, and for our life together here…
…You find what our sciences cannot locate or name…
…This is given…
Perhaps, she mused, it was time for her to ride her monsters down and find the root of what had been given to her by Trip. Last time she had tried, she had ended up in Sickbay as the result of a mental violation, the memory of which still came to her in occasional dreams. This time it would be different, T'Pol decided. This time… this time she would keep control. Trip would let her do that. In two years, he had never hurt her, and he wasn't about to start. Her decision was already made.
T'Pol opened her eyes and stood up.
~~~~~
Trip had awakened immediately after looking through his dreamscape and not seeing T'Pol. He had never dreamt anything so sad before; he had never even concieved that his subconscious could be so cruel to him.
The only light in his quarters was sporadic, dim and red. It took him a full minute of lying blearily in his bed before he realized its importance. Suddenly, he was fully awake, and bolting to his computer.
The message read: Shall we meet at lunch tomorrow? ~T'Pol
Trip read it and smiled as he typed his reply: Sure thing. See you then. Sleep well. ~Trip (or should it be "Tucker?")
He fell asleep soon afterward and had the dream again. This time, T'Pol was there again, wearing that green dress and smiling.
~~~~~
T'Pol was dreaming. This was to be expected given the fact that she had forgone her nightly meditation, but these dreams were more vivid than they had ever been since her childhood. Tolaris had been right about one thing; her dreams were so much more interesting when she went straight to bed.
This dream was based on a memory, as most of hers were. Decon's lights were humming around herself and Trip. There was no gel this time, though, only his pure soft touch, and they were facing each other. What a glorious sensation it was for T'Pol to touch him. The only times she had ever felt delight, she realized, were when he was nearby.
Trip did not speak to T'Pol, nor did she speak to him. There was no need for words when all she needed to know was clearly shining in his eyes. And they didn't even kiss in the long dream; simply touching him was enough for now. She would save her kisses for the waking world.
~~~~~
The next morning was possibly the longest Trip had ever experienced. Nothing was happening in Engineering and lunch could not come soon enough. He ached to know her choice. He thought T'Pol wanted to stay with him—otherwise she would not have sent him that second message—but he wasn't certain. Doubts kept surfacing in his mind: what if she just wanted to be friends? Or not even that?
So distracted was he that he was jolted out of his seat when the alarm he'd set for lunchtime sounded. Trip sighed, steeling himself for any eventuality. It was time to go.
~~~~~
The mess hall was packed with people shouting to be heard over each other; the only silent one in the room was T'Pol. She had used her rank to leave for lunch a few minutes earlier than normal just so she could claim the table where she and Trip had touched minds a week earlier.
And there was Trip, who had just entered the Mess Hall. Various crewmembers were waving to him and making room for him to join them, but Trip only returned their greetings as he weaved through the lines of hungry people in order to reach T'Pol.
"Hey, T'Pol," he greeted as soon as he'd sat. "You hungry? Or should we talk first?"
"Neither," she confessed. "Hold your hand out under the table."
"Okay," Trip said tremulously as he complied with her instruction. If this was what he thought it was…
"Extend two of your fingers." It was! Trip exulted as he felt two of T'Pol's figures connect with his own. A delicious relief swept over Trip, for she loved him still.
~~~~~
Oh, come on. You don't seriously think this is the end? I have a second part of this planned too.
