Title: Christmas, Chapter 2

By: Angel

Disclaimers: See Ch 1

Notes: Okay, I'm still working on learning to write specific POV. Let me know what you think. It feels weird to try to be inside someone else's head. I really want to get it right though, because the next chapter will be much stronger if I'm successful at it.

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2nd Christmas (T'Pol's POV)

As I rang the Commander's door chime, I glanced down at the small package held firmly in my hand. The door opened to reveal him in his off-duty attire. He looked sleepy and the lights in his quarters were dimmed.

"I apologize for disturbing you, Commander. You are preparing for your evening rest. I shall speak with you tomorrow." I started to turn away before he could respond.

"Wait, T'Pol. It's okay; I could use a little company. The past few days have been crazy. Come on in." He stepped aside to allow me entry. I paused momentarily before following him in. After the door closed behind me, he asked, "So, what brings you here?" His voice is not unpleasant, but I begin to question the logic of my visit.

However, since I was already there, I decided to continue with my purpose. "I brought you your Christmas present since you were unable to join the Captain and myself at breakfast today." Awkwardly, I held out the small package. He looked slightly confused, then placed his hand on his forehead.

"Aw, geez, T'Pol. I didn't realize I'd be seein' ya' today. Yours isn't wrapped."

"That is acceptable," I said, although I would miss the anticipation of opening the paper. I gave him his gift and thought of the past year as I watched him unwrap it.



"Explain to me why Juliet committed suicide when she found her lover dead."

"Because she couldn't bear the thought of life without him."

"That is highly illogical. She was extremely young, even for a human. Surely she would have acquired a new mate."

"That's not the point at all, T'Pol! It's about undying love and irreplaceable passion."

"I would not call double suicide 'undying love', Commander Tucker."

He merely shook his head at that point and walked away.



As my thoughts returned to the present, I looked over at the engineer to find him turning the small text over in his hands. I had been too distracted to hear the sound of paper tearing. Unfortunate.

"I thought real books were inefficient, Sub-Commander," he said with a smile.

"They are, however you deem them of value. If you would prefer, I will exchange it for a padd," I offered, reaching out to retrieve the book.

Immediately the Commander clutched it to his chest. "Not on your life!" As he resumed examining his gift, my mind drifted back again.



"Do all of Mr. Shakespeare's stories involve most of the cast dying?"

"No, not at all. Those are called 'the tragedies'. However, the comedies are wonderful, too."

"I look forward to reading some of them. It is...disturbing to continue with a story knowing that the characters will meet a foul end."

"Does that mean it makes you sad?" He smiled at that.

"Sadness is a human emotion, as you well know. I simply see no point in becoming interested in a character merely to find him deceased within an act or two."



His voice returned me to the here and now. "This looks like a fascinatin' book. 'The Logic of Life', by Silock and T'Ver. What's it about?"

"It is the authors' interpretation of many of Surak's basic tenants. I had hoped you would better understand what makes Vulcans 'tick'." Pausing, I debated whether to continue. I decided I would. "I found it to be a most enlightening text during my formative years."

"Really? Well, then, I can hardly wait to read it." He opened the cover and examined the inscription I had written in it late last evening. "May this book bring you clarity." He looked up at me and tilted his head to the side. "Clarity? Are you sayin' I'm cloudy?" During our time serving together on Enterprise, I'd come to recognize his current smile as one of gentle teasing.

"You may interpret it in any way you see fit." My posture did not reveal my impatience to receive my own gift. Last year's present from the Commander had proved to be more enjoyable than I would have thought possible. I realize the illogic in expressing both impatience and enjoyment; however, I have come to accept that such emotions occasionally occur and have determined that to deny them is more illogical than to acknowledge them and move on.

"So, I guess you're waitin' fer yer gift?" he asked with a wink. I noticed the thickness of his accent. In the past, this has happened when Commander Tucker is extremely emotional. "Well, never let it be said that I kept a lady waitin'!" He opened his locker and retrieved what appears to be a large storage bowl. "I hope you enjoy!"

I accepted the proffered bowl and looked inside. There were several large pieces of fresh plomeek. They appeared to be recently removed from the vine. "Where did you get these?" I asked.

"Well, my momma always said that the only way to make real soup is with fresh veggies. I know you've said that Chef's plomeek soup isn't quite up to snuff, and I figured it was probably cuz he uses dried veggies. So, I started a bit of a garden. I've been growin' 'em in one of the doc's incubation chambers for a few months now. There's more to the crop, but I didn't want to pick 'em all at once. 'Sides, I staggered the plantin' so you should have fresh plomeek about every two weeks for the next three months"

"This is quite exceptional, Commander," I stated honestly. "Plomeek is notoriously difficult to grow."

"Aw, it wasn't so bad." He looked down and I noticed a slight pick tinge come over his ears.

"I should go now." I turned to go as his voice followed me. "Merry Christmas, T'Pol. Good night."

"Good night, Commander. And Merry Christmas." I paused before exiting and faced him again. "Would you join me for a bowl of soup for tomorrow's evening meal?"

He smiled broadly. "I would be honored, Sub-Commander."

As the door closed behind me, I thought of yet another conversation from the past.

.

"I have recently finished reading one of 'the comedies' you spoke so highly of, Commander." It required much effort to keep the exasperation I felt suppressed.

He stopped eating and looked up at me. "Really? Which one? Did ya' like it?"

"'The Taming of the Shrew'. I am not certain. What is the logic of Kate's motivations?"

"For which action?" he asked with a tilt of his head. "She denies the sun and calls it night, despite the fact that it is very plainly day. That is most illogical." I watched his face contort into what he would call a smirk and could not help feeling that he was enjoying himself at my expense.

"It's called love, T'Pol. Sometimes it makes ya' do crazy things. In Kate's case, she wanted to let Petruchio know that she was his completely; by bending to his will, even when it was ridiculous, she accomplished that."

"A most illogical female."

As I walked down the corridor, carrying my bowl of fresh plomeek I could not help but marvel at the human capacity to strive so hard to please another person. Even more amazing was the success of such endeavors.

End Chapter 2