Title: Confessions, Chapter 3
By: Angel
Summary: He's a doctor, not a ship's counselor!
Disclaimers, etc: See ch 1
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Dr. Phlox smiled as he sang a Denobulan lullaby to his Promethean beetles while feeding them. He moved on to the next collection of foreign creatures, still happily humming along. However, before he completed his task, the sickbay doors opened. He glanced over his shoulder quickly and welcomed Sub-Commander T'Pol in. "Ah, Sub-Commander," he began, "what brings you to my humble office this evening?" As he finished his question, he took in her appearance completely and was aghast.
The Vulcan first officer was slouched and slightly more olive-toned than normal, but the worst was her eyes. He stared at them a long minute before he realized the problem. They were rimmed a dark shade of green. She had obviously been crying a great deal. "Good gracious, T'Pol. What's wrong?" He quickly ushered her further into sickbay from her frozen position near the door. Without touching her, he guided her to the nearest biobed and pulled the curtain closed around them, lest anyone else enter and see the condition of the usually unflappable woman.
Without thought, she climbed atop the bed and sat with her legs dangling over the side. Dr. Phlox immediately seated himself upon a small stool in front of her and asked again, "What's wrong?"
Her head hung low and her shoulders slumped. She stared at the floor. "I spoke with Commander Tucker," she said, barely audible.
"Oh, T'Pol," the doctor said, rising from his seat he placed a hand on her sleeve covered arm, careful not to make skin-to-skin contact. Bending low to look into her eyes he continued, "I assume it did not go well? Would you like me to give you something to help? A mild neuro-sedative, perhaps?"
"NO!" Her response was loud and robust, something he had not expected. She shook her arm free and continued, "I am sorry, doctor. I did not intend to shout at you. But no, I can not accept any drugs to make the...pain dissipate. I desired these emotions, now I must learn to control them, on my own." Her voice got progressively quieter as she spoke and the doctor got the impression that she was no longer speaking to him.
"I understand. Perhaps you'd like to talk about it. What happened with Commander Tucker?" He resumed his seat and waited for her to answer.
She shook her head slowly. "It does not matter what transpired between myself and Commander Tucker. I believe that relationship to be in the past." She paused and the stillness in the air was palpable. Dr. Phlox was at a loss. He'd thought for sure that Trip would stand by T'Pol and that together they would work through her emotional problems.
"T'Pol," he inquired, "have I ever told you of Jarex? He is my third wife's son from her second husband. He is an artist, a painter, and quite a good one. One time, many years ago, at an exhibition of his work, I noticed the fluidity of his pieces. They all seemed to come from the same place in his heart. I asked him about it. What was his inspiration, I wondered, for these beautiful paintings that all seemed to flow together? Do you know what his answer was?" He paused before continuing; she, of course, did not respond. "He said that they all came from pain. He had recently lost a loved one in a terrible accident, and the feelings he encountered had compelled him to put these colors on paper. I told him that I was amazed that something so magnificent could come from such trauma, and then he said the most amazing thing. Not only did these incredible works come from darkness, but in the end it was doing the paintings that helped him grieve and heal from that loss. I have never forgotten that message. Sometimes we have to go through the most harrowing of circumstances to arrive at a better place and we often discover that we have grown and created beauty along the way."
He was quite pleased with his inspirational tale, and was also quite glad for having such a diverse family to draw on for such stories. Therefore, he was not prepared for the Sub-Commander's next sentence.
"In the morning I shall forward a request to Starfleet to transfer off of Enterprise. Now that Earth is no longer in danger, I am not needed here."
"But, surely with Captain Archer...gone, Enterprise needs you more than ever." He tried to reason, to appeal to her sense of duty. He was certain that it was just a matter of time. "It would be illogical to leave the ship in such a state. Imagine the turmoil of the crew. They've just begun to adjust to the Captain's absence. We haven't even made it home yet!" He was begging now, anything to get her to reconsider. "At least give it more time, say 48 hours?"
She raised herself up to her proper posture for the first time since entering sickbay. Her gaze met his and he was astonished by the sense of loss there, not just because of its existence, but because he could read it. "I do not believe so, doctor. I see no logical alternative. I am unwilling to remain on board Enterprise any longer than necessary, given the current situation." She pushed her way off the end of the small bed and was about to push aside the curtain when the outer doors opened.
"Hey, doc!" Commander Tucker's voice called out through the medical area. Dr. Phlox looked briefly at Sub-Commander T'Pol before stepping around the curtain. "Yes, Commander? Can I help you?" He tried to sound cheerful.
"Yeah, doc; you seen T'Pol around? I've looked everywhere for her." She closed her eyes and listened intently to his voice. He no longer sounded angry. In fact, he sounded concerned. 'Perhaps, there is still an opportunity,' she thought to herself. 'No. I will not open myself up to such humiliation again. These emotions will be purged, one way or another!' With that thought, she stepped around the partition.
"I am here, Commander." The coldness in her voice chilled Trip to the bone.
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Notes: Hope you're all still hanging in there! What do you think? Should these two live happily ever after, or go to opposite corners of the galaxy? I already know how it ends, but I'd love to hear your opinions.
BTW, don't forget that this is set after the Xindi weapon is destroyed; therefore Archer is 'dead', but before Enterprise returns to Earth. I may be playing with the timeline a little, stretching things out to meet my needs, but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!
By: Angel
Summary: He's a doctor, not a ship's counselor!
Disclaimers, etc: See ch 1
333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333
Dr. Phlox smiled as he sang a Denobulan lullaby to his Promethean beetles while feeding them. He moved on to the next collection of foreign creatures, still happily humming along. However, before he completed his task, the sickbay doors opened. He glanced over his shoulder quickly and welcomed Sub-Commander T'Pol in. "Ah, Sub-Commander," he began, "what brings you to my humble office this evening?" As he finished his question, he took in her appearance completely and was aghast.
The Vulcan first officer was slouched and slightly more olive-toned than normal, but the worst was her eyes. He stared at them a long minute before he realized the problem. They were rimmed a dark shade of green. She had obviously been crying a great deal. "Good gracious, T'Pol. What's wrong?" He quickly ushered her further into sickbay from her frozen position near the door. Without touching her, he guided her to the nearest biobed and pulled the curtain closed around them, lest anyone else enter and see the condition of the usually unflappable woman.
Without thought, she climbed atop the bed and sat with her legs dangling over the side. Dr. Phlox immediately seated himself upon a small stool in front of her and asked again, "What's wrong?"
Her head hung low and her shoulders slumped. She stared at the floor. "I spoke with Commander Tucker," she said, barely audible.
"Oh, T'Pol," the doctor said, rising from his seat he placed a hand on her sleeve covered arm, careful not to make skin-to-skin contact. Bending low to look into her eyes he continued, "I assume it did not go well? Would you like me to give you something to help? A mild neuro-sedative, perhaps?"
"NO!" Her response was loud and robust, something he had not expected. She shook her arm free and continued, "I am sorry, doctor. I did not intend to shout at you. But no, I can not accept any drugs to make the...pain dissipate. I desired these emotions, now I must learn to control them, on my own." Her voice got progressively quieter as she spoke and the doctor got the impression that she was no longer speaking to him.
"I understand. Perhaps you'd like to talk about it. What happened with Commander Tucker?" He resumed his seat and waited for her to answer.
She shook her head slowly. "It does not matter what transpired between myself and Commander Tucker. I believe that relationship to be in the past." She paused and the stillness in the air was palpable. Dr. Phlox was at a loss. He'd thought for sure that Trip would stand by T'Pol and that together they would work through her emotional problems.
"T'Pol," he inquired, "have I ever told you of Jarex? He is my third wife's son from her second husband. He is an artist, a painter, and quite a good one. One time, many years ago, at an exhibition of his work, I noticed the fluidity of his pieces. They all seemed to come from the same place in his heart. I asked him about it. What was his inspiration, I wondered, for these beautiful paintings that all seemed to flow together? Do you know what his answer was?" He paused before continuing; she, of course, did not respond. "He said that they all came from pain. He had recently lost a loved one in a terrible accident, and the feelings he encountered had compelled him to put these colors on paper. I told him that I was amazed that something so magnificent could come from such trauma, and then he said the most amazing thing. Not only did these incredible works come from darkness, but in the end it was doing the paintings that helped him grieve and heal from that loss. I have never forgotten that message. Sometimes we have to go through the most harrowing of circumstances to arrive at a better place and we often discover that we have grown and created beauty along the way."
He was quite pleased with his inspirational tale, and was also quite glad for having such a diverse family to draw on for such stories. Therefore, he was not prepared for the Sub-Commander's next sentence.
"In the morning I shall forward a request to Starfleet to transfer off of Enterprise. Now that Earth is no longer in danger, I am not needed here."
"But, surely with Captain Archer...gone, Enterprise needs you more than ever." He tried to reason, to appeal to her sense of duty. He was certain that it was just a matter of time. "It would be illogical to leave the ship in such a state. Imagine the turmoil of the crew. They've just begun to adjust to the Captain's absence. We haven't even made it home yet!" He was begging now, anything to get her to reconsider. "At least give it more time, say 48 hours?"
She raised herself up to her proper posture for the first time since entering sickbay. Her gaze met his and he was astonished by the sense of loss there, not just because of its existence, but because he could read it. "I do not believe so, doctor. I see no logical alternative. I am unwilling to remain on board Enterprise any longer than necessary, given the current situation." She pushed her way off the end of the small bed and was about to push aside the curtain when the outer doors opened.
"Hey, doc!" Commander Tucker's voice called out through the medical area. Dr. Phlox looked briefly at Sub-Commander T'Pol before stepping around the curtain. "Yes, Commander? Can I help you?" He tried to sound cheerful.
"Yeah, doc; you seen T'Pol around? I've looked everywhere for her." She closed her eyes and listened intently to his voice. He no longer sounded angry. In fact, he sounded concerned. 'Perhaps, there is still an opportunity,' she thought to herself. 'No. I will not open myself up to such humiliation again. These emotions will be purged, one way or another!' With that thought, she stepped around the partition.
"I am here, Commander." The coldness in her voice chilled Trip to the bone.
333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333
Notes: Hope you're all still hanging in there! What do you think? Should these two live happily ever after, or go to opposite corners of the galaxy? I already know how it ends, but I'd love to hear your opinions.
BTW, don't forget that this is set after the Xindi weapon is destroyed; therefore Archer is 'dead', but before Enterprise returns to Earth. I may be playing with the timeline a little, stretching things out to meet my needs, but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!