Author's Note: First, I've given up trying to write in Trip's accent. As Peter Simons said, it's exhausting to both read and write. Second, I apologize for not updating sooner. The inspiration bug just wasn't biting, and when it was, school demanded my attention. I'd like to post another chapter soon, as I have another idea lurking in the recesses of my mind. Any other ideas, please send them my way.
Response to reviews: Peter Simons (thank you for reading, and for the support!), englishchik (my portrayal of T'Pol may no longer be accurate, with this Trellium addiction of hers), trick of the light (here they come!), Dyslexic Moaner (sorry for the inaccuracy, thanks for pointing it out), JadziaKathryn (T'Pol's answer sounds a bit familiar, considering the end of Season 3), Midnight Dove (glad you liked the song), PurpleYin (thanks for the positive review!), EyeCandy (I wasn't going in any particular order, the age discrepancy wasn't a typo. I can be unorganized that way), The Libran Iniquity (I'm honored you took the time to read this, being the gifted writer that you are), A. Windsor (thanks for the review!), Exploded Pen (glad you liked it), plumtuckered (I'm so glad you like her. I wasn't confidant about my original character skills), and to all the others who've kept up with this!
Tough Little Boys: Chapter 5 7-7-04
Trip shut down the PADD with a satisfied sigh. He'd been working for two evenings straight, but he was finally caught up on paper work. Ah, paperwork: the bane of his existence. He was an engineer, not a deskbound admiral! Efficiency or not, Trip had never understood the need to waste time writing reports the Captain was only going to skim through anyway. It was a battle he'd been fighting since the Academy, for all the good it had done. He thanked his lucky stars for T'Pol though. Without her, he wouldn't have had the patience to get through the back work. Actually, because his beautiful wife had been home the last few evenings, he'd been able to get her input (usually a separate step within itself) and get ahead on a few reports. Guaranteed, he'd be behind again by the end of the week, but that wasn't the point.
He turned his head to T'Pol and smiled. She was curled up with her folded hands under her head, a peaceful expression on her face. Unable to resist, he reached out and gently brushed a lock of silky hair from her face. He rolled back over and clicked off the light, carefully moving to a comfortable position under the covers; he didn't want to wake her. She's been spending long hours helping Lizzie with her science project, black holes, and as a result was up well into the night to finish her own work. Trip smiled affectionately and edged closer to her. She hadn't complained once, not even an impatient question or command. And that Vulcan stamina was no match for being First Officer and Science Officer, wife to Charles Tucker, and mother to an insatiable six year old. He marveled at her dedication. If only he could match half the amount she showed.
Continuing to watch her, his heart was suddenly overwhelmed with love, so much that it hurt. This was the mother of his child- his children. Impulsively, he reached out and laid his hand on her stomach, rounded in pregnancy. They had agreed to leave the child's gender a mystery until birth. This had upset T'Lizabeth, who had wanted to know now whether she was going to get a little brother or a little sister, although she was impartial to a little brother, as Daddy was currently outnumbered. Trip had only smiled and told her that the best gifts were surprises.
Trip didn't care either way. He was caught up in the feelings of being a father again. While he'd be thrilled to have a son to be Charles Tucker IV, he couldn't imagine anything better than a pair of girls to dote on. Besides, he wouldn't be missing out on anything with girls. Just last week he'd taught Lizzie how to throw a football, and what an arm his little girl had! At this rate, she'd be captain of the Academy football team. That is, if Lizzie wanted to be in Starfleet.
He and T'Pol had made a conscious effort NOT to push Lizzie in one direction or another. T'Pol's mother had been in Security, and T'Pol had been—how did she put it—strongly encouraged by both parents to pursue the same career. T'Pol had put aside her own scientific aspirations, until she was unable to function in security any longer. Trip had been free to choose his own career, without pressure from his family. Both of them felt their daughter-their children- deserved the same right. Thus, difficult as it had been, each model of a starship had been balanced by a microscope and each trip to engineering had meant a tour of the science labs. Lately, Lizzie's own preferences had emerged. Her Christmas list (a conversation Trip had had with T'Pol early on in their courtship) had included a Klingon ceremonial d'k tahg knife—a weapon her Ko'mekh had gently explained was not permitted on a starship—and color changing skin for camouflage. A visit to Doctor Phlox, for an explanation of why changing one's skin pigmentation was inadvisable, was called for after T'Lizabeth's own attempt using finger paint was thwarted. That left a phase pistol and self defense lessons from Uncle Malcolm. Trip couldn't figure out where this interest in security and stratagem had originated, unless Malcolm had been filling her head with battle tactics behind their backs. Then again, Lizzie always had enjoyed fireworks...
Suddenly, T'Pol opened her eyes.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." Trip said quietly, gently caressing her cheek.
"You did not wake me, your offspring did." she said, gently needling him.
Trip grinned at that. She gained a measure of satisfaction from blaming the pregnancy on him, as if he were the only one to blame. He'd reminded her on several occasions that it took two to tango, and generally these reminders took place well after Lizzie was in bed. "No one ever said Tuckers were easy to live with." He teased. T'Pol only raised an elegant eyebrow, her look plainly suggesting that this was a widely-known fact. Trip smiled and pulled her in close, spooning their bodies together, his hands still on her stomach.
"I can't wait for him or her to get here, T'Pol." He said. "I love you and Lizzie with all my heart, and I'm gonna love this one just as much."
"Undoubtedly." she said. "I am often amazed by the human capacity for love in general, and by yours in particular. There was never any doubt of your affection for the child." He glanced down at her, and saw that telltale lift at the corners of her mouth. He smiled in return and settled himself next to her again with a happy sigh.
& & & & & & &
A few hours later, T'Pol awoke. Gently easing out of Charles' embrace, she slipped on her periwinkle robe. On the way to the lavatory, she passed T'Lizabeth's room. The light was on. She peaked into the room to find her daughter on the floor, her collection of art supplies scattered about.
"T'Lizabeth," she said, "It is very late. You should be in bed." The elfin child whipped around, not having heard her mother enter.
"I was making something for the new baby, Ko'mehk." She said, holding up her project. It was a conglomeration of popsicle sticks, yarn and colored puff balls, all pasted together to form an intricate figure. At six years old, the meticulous nature of the arrangement was admirable. But, not at 0300.
"That is a very creative gift for the baby," T'Pol praised. "And I am sure it will be appreciated. But you should not be up at this hour."
"But Mehk, if I go to bed, I won't be able to finish my gift."
"You still have a number of months before the baby arrives. The gift does not have to be finished tonight. Besides, your new sibling would not want you to be tired on its account. Come," she said, "back to bed."
T'Lizabeth quickly put her paints away in their box and placed her gift on top of her shelf with the utmost care. Taking one final look at it, she got back into bed and pulled the covers up, waiting for her Ko'Mehk to tuck her in. T'Pol efficiently completed the process, and then gave her daughter a quick embrace before deactivated the lights and closing the door.
After completing her ablutions, she slipped back into bed beside her husband.
"Everything alright?" he mumbled, only half conscious.
"Our daughter seems to have received your thoughtful streak." She said.
"That's my girl." He said, before drifting off.
In the darkness, T'Pol allowed herself to smile. Charles had no idea how much that thought pleased her.
Well, what did you think? Please, let me know!