Some Rules are Meant to be Broken: one two three four five
Archer smiled to himself as he thought, "Married."
Glancing over at his sleeping wife, he gave a contented sigh and twirled his wedding band in between his forefinger and thumb. It'd been a few months, but the whole experience felt new, especially since they had two days off in a row together, before they went back to work. Today was their last day of freedom. They had the luxury of time now – stars to chart, aliens to meet and planets to visit. Deep in space without a lot of aliens to shoot at them or planets to visit, Archer decided on small vacations for the crew. He and T'Pol were the last officers to a holiday, and decided to spend it enjoying themselves. And, they certainly enjoyed it.
T'Pol stirred and blinked two weary eyes. Her eyebrow twitched as he watched her.
"Will it be like this every morning?" she asked.
He smiled wider, "God, I hope so."
"You are endearing," she said to him. Her fingers snaked around his stubbled chin as he gave a goofy grin.
As he leaned over to kiss her, she turned away from his breath. He frowned at her reaction. "I was going to tell you I could get breakfast, but I think you're on your own now," he teased.
"Breakfast?" she asked with interest. "I am hungry. Tea and a some fruit should suffice," she ordered, nuzzling her head against the pillow.
Archer furrowed his eyebrows at her – bemused. "Don't you want something more substantial?" he asked rolling on top of her.
"Are you offering me something else?" she whispered.
He chuckled, "What do you think?"
The comm beeped as Archer looked at it with irritation. He fell to his spouse's side and leaned over to answer it, flexing his finger against the button.
"Archer here. Go ahead."
"Cap'n, I received a call from a Vulcan ship in the area that has taken damage recently. They've asked to dock with us so we can help repair their ship," said Trip.
T'Pol's eyes widened with concern. 'Jonathan?' she thought.
"Is the vessel in trouble?" he asked, smoothing a hand over his wife's cheek.
"No, sir. No casualties, just ship damage," said Trip. "And, the repairs they need are pretty minor … at least to get going. Seems we're the nearest vessel."
T'Pol snuggled against the covers.
Relieved, the captain asked, "Well, what do you think? You are the acting captain."
"Just giving you a head's up," replied Trip. "Already confirmed their story. Everything seems like it checks out."
"Then by all means have them board with us. In fact, why don't you invite them to dinner tonight. Ask Chef to prepare a Vulcan meal for our guests."
"Yes, sir," agreed Trip. "Uhm, does that mean I'll see you for dinner? Both of you? I just thought it being your first vacation since your honeymoon and all …."
"Yes, we'll both be there," Archer confirmed. He hated duty sometimes, but it nagged at him like a wife … well, maybe that wasn't the best analogy.
"Carry on," teased Trip, thinking the two were 'sleeping' in.
Archer took his hand away from the comm and tilted his head down at his wife. Much to his chagrin, her eyes had already drifted closed again as if sleep was on her agenda.
"So what's it going to be for breakfast?" he whispered, trying to wake her. His body pressed against hers, kissing her neck. "Me or fruit?"
An eyebrow flicked, unveiling two slits of green.
"Difficult decision," she whispered. As she saw him smile and lean over for a deeper kiss, she replied, "Fruit and tea."
Archer winced. "Hen-pecked husband," he said pushing himself off the bed. He jumped into some clothes and then swung his t-shirt on the end of his finger, taunting her. "Yep, I think you just made a mistake Vulcan."
He could tell she was amused through their bond.
She thought, 'Aisha, surely I may have my cake and eat it too?'
He raised a single eyebrow, as if to mock her. "I don't know. My ego is pretty bruised."
'Very well..,' she thought, shutting her eyes again.
Jonathan puffed up his chest, hoping she would whisper something seductive back. Ah, why was he complaining; he'd been getting almost as much action this week as when she'd entered Pon Farr. Although his first time with this woman was incredible, he enjoyed not feeling battered and bruised the next day – yup, his time with her now was … more relaxed, but still exciting.
Instead of continuing those thoughts, he focused his attention on a small beagle that peered up with large eyes. Archer frowned, "And I suppose you want something too?"
Porthos barked, yipping an order.
"No cheese," argued Archer as he bounded out the door and down the corridor to the Mess Hall.
T'Pol almost felt giddy. His caresses in the morning were always more wanton than in the evening – something they did not have in common. She preferred nocturnal embraces -- mingling thoughts after mediation and with a clean mind was highly satisfying. She was pleased she was able to cajole him last night after hearing a slight snore escape his lips as she ended her nightly ritual. He'd been going to bed earlier than usual and was hard to … convince.
Every morning for the past week, the two had nearly been late to work due to lingering passionate embraces. If hunger and her need to tease him hadn't taken over, she would've welcomed his touch … she would have reveled in it. Had they simply entered into a new phase of their relationship?
For the past week, she'd been unable to get enough of the man. She'd wanted to hold his hand, be enveloped in his arms, hear his rumbling laugh and watch him … just look at him read or sleep. Ironic that apparently he had the same urges, as was evident by seeing his sleepy moss-green eyes this morning.
Strange. Lately just seeing him caused her heart to race and her pulse to quicken. It wasn't necessarily lust, but something much more sublime and peaceful – it was a feeling of warmth and security. Indeed, her spirit was wistful – content. Supremely so. One might even say … happy? He'd always touched her, moved her, made her feel what she gathered must be love, but this was much more encompassing.
As she mused on her relationship, suddenly a disturbing thought crossed her mind. A ghost-like voice tickled her brain and conjured up forgotten images and memories. An arid breeze drifted across her mind, scented like the Vulcan incense used in the temples and in the Great Hall. A flashes of images washed over her – a fountain, temple doors closing, the ritual of adulthood and the incantations spoken during the wedding promise. The air was stale and the jumble of visions confusing. Someone was placing them in her mind purposefully. Someone?
Someone was calling out to her through the Vulcan art of telepathy.
'Jonathan?' she asked.
'Change your mind?' she heard her husband ask, whimsically.
Ignoring his playfulness, she asked, 'Have you been trying to contact me?'
'No. Why?'
'I thought I heard your voice.' But, the scent was wrong; the feel was wrong. It didn't sound like his voice – this one was much deeper.
'No. Maybe it's just your imagination?' asked Jonathan as a thought.
'Perhaps,' she said.
It worried him that she had no retort. He'd fully expected to hear, 'Vulcans do not have imaginations,' That worried him. 'I'll be there as soon as possible,' he thought.
She lay back on the bed as the same voice echoed in her mind, getting louder and more pronounced. Quantifying it, she recognized it in a way, but it was not familiar. It was like a long lost relative that she had met as a child.
Chanting, calling resonating deep within her katra as if it were part of her – it twisted around the canals of her mind. The speech pattern was unmistakably … Vulcan and the timbre was definitely male.
'T'Pol…' the voice murmured quietly.
She denied it; 'This cannot be.'
'You hear me,'.
"Leave me alone," she said in a near-yell.
The door slid open and Archer hurriedly stepped over the portal, put down the tray of food and jogged to her. He crouched down, cradling his wife to his chest.
"Someone is calling out to me," she whimpered with exasperation – an emotion.
"I don't understand," replied Archer.
The booming voice called to her again 'T'Pol'; it was louder, closer … and almost as clear as Jonathan's.
"Someone is trying to contact me," she said aloud, afraid the voice would hear her.
He looked at her with confusion when the comm went off: "Tucker to Captain Archer."
Archer neglected his captainly duties for a moment until his wife gave him a nod, indicating she was all right; then he reluctantly walked to the comm.
"Archer."
"Cap'n, there's a Vulcan here who says he used to be T'Pol's …," said Trip.
"Koss," she murmured with fear. Archer squinted his eyes at the name of her pre-determined bond mate.
"Is his name: Koss?" the captain asked into the comm.
Trip guffawed, "Sure is. How'd you know?"
Terror danced in her eyes. 'I do not want to see him.'
Archer furrowed his brow and spoke into the comm. "We'll meet him tonight at dinner."
"I'll let him know. Tucker out."
'Not tonight, not ever,' thought T'Pol, lying back and bringing the covers to her.
"What's going on?" asked Archer sitting on the bed.
'I will never speak to him. I will never acknowledge him.'
"Well, he's here. He knows you're here." He scratched his head. "Why are you afraid of him?"
'He can still reach me … my thoughts,' she began.
Her lips began to move -- afraid that he would hear her if she continued to use her bond. "This is an abomination; a blight on our connection – yours and mine, Jonathan."
Her eyes pleaded with Archer's as he stared back trying to figure out what the hell this meant.
"Can you not hear his voice?" she asked, her voice rife with frustration.
He paused as if to listen to something important, shifting his eyes from side to side.
"No, I can't hear him. What does that mean, he can still reach you?" he asked sipping his coffee. His finger traced the tip of her ear.
Trying to emphasize the seriousness of the situation, she turned from his caress.
"I still hear his thoughts. That should be impossible. You and I are bonded. We alone."
"He shouldn't be able to communicate with you?" he asked.
"No. When a life bond is taken, it … drowns out all other voices, except those of the family."
"Then, why do you hear his thoughts?" he asked.
"That is my concern. I don't know."
"You and he were bond mates …" he stated. "Is it possible his bond with you is … still there?"
"Possibly."
"Has this ever happened before?" he asked.
"When a bond is … imperfect. Yes."
The weight of her statement hoisted onto him -- their bond was possibly imperfect.
"Should I be able to hear him?" he asked.
"I don't know." Vexation weaseled into her eyes, "I don't want him to interfere with our thoughts. They are private … between you and me."
"I want our thoughts to remain private as well," he said. He brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead as if to console her. "But, maybe there's a more … logical explanation."
She turned away from her husband and put the covers up to her ears.
Trying to make the best of a bad situation, he asked, "T'Pol, so what if you hear his voice? Is that the most important thing?" He lay down beside her and nuzzled his nose into her neck in comfort.
"No," she responded after a long pause. However, on Vulcan, there were more serious consequences, if that was the case.
"It doesn't matter to me anyway," he lied. It bothered him that she heard Koss' voice; he felt jealous, but he tried to shove those feelings aside so they wouldn't reach her.
She continued to glare at the wall trying to tamp down her feelings. Archer'd never seen this side of his spouse; she was sullen and moody … for a Vulcan.
"Hey," he said sweetly, hugging her to him.
She squirmed out of his grip, 'I would prefer time to reflect on this situation.'
He frowned and took off his shoes and got underneath the covers, pressing her naked body against his fully clothed one. The situation was baffling, but he thought it best to console her. There'd be plenty of time to ask questions later.
'T'Pol, I won't let Koss come between us.' His thoughts enveloped her and drowned out the other man's call. Protection eased her troubled-brow, slowed her rapid breathing and released the tension in her stomach.
Feeling better, she instantly sank into his touch, rolled over to face him and placed her moist lips on his mouth. Jonathan wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but the horse had been mighty generous lately. As he reflected on his good fortune, her hand slipped under his shirt as she kissed him feverishly.
"You belong to me, Jonathan. Your body and thoughts are mine," she whispered, hotly in his ear. Her teeth bit roughly into his earlobe and neck as he pulled her closer to him.
"Tell me that I'm yours."
"You're mine," he hissed against her mouth, succumbing to her. As his mouth connected with hers and his tongue parted her lips, she retreated.
T'Pol asked again, more demanding, "Claim me."
Grabbing her closer to him, he growled, "You're mine."
Her fingers crawled along his jaw until it reached his temple. "Prove it."
Chapter Two: Several Hours LaterArcher looked up at the clock feeling nervous. He put his book down and watched his wife get ready. There was no doubt in his mind she was unhappy about being asked to attend dinner tonight. She, under no circumstances, wanted to see Koss. Period. And, she'd been giving him the silent treatment ever since he suggested they get ready.
"You're not mad at me, are you?" asked Jon, watching her over his book.
He'd already been waiting for half on hour – which was completely unlike her. Typically, she was ready in fifteen minutes. In human terms, she was a low maintenance woman. But tonight, she spent more time than usual on her hair and makeup – as if dawdling and primping.
"Angry? I am a Vulcan …."
Jon rolled his eyes at the line.
"I am … unsettled. And, I believe you know my wishes about this evening."
"Ha! You are mad at me," feeling through his bond that she was irritated.
She flicked an eyebrow at him. "Believe what you will."
"Have you heard his voice again?" he asked, ambling over to her. His arms draped around her waist, as he admired her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
"It's faint … but there. It's been there all day."
'All day?' he asked himself, wondering if it had been there this morning as they made love. He sighed and kissed the back of her neck. "When was the last time you saw him?"
"Approximately fifteen years ago."
"Why so long? You left for Earth … five or six years ago?" he asked her reflection.
"Yes, approximately. It's not that I didn't want to see him. We were both merely … busy."
He guffawed, "It seems kinda hard to be busy for fifteen years."
She retorted, "Not if your lifespan is possibly two hundred years."
Archer shrugged.
Gazing into the mirror one last time, she wondered why she was making such an effort to look appealing. Her eyes stopped on the handsome man behind her, grinning at their reflection.
"You look nice," he commented, giving a lopsided smile hoping to get back in her good graces.
"I'm ready," she announced.
"Good." He intertwined his hand with hers and started making his way down the hall with her.
As they reached the Mess Hall, she let her hand slip away from his. Archer saw three Vulcans "chatting" with Trip. He spotted Koss right away and stopped dead in his tracks. The Vulcan was not exactly what he had seen in T'Pol's mind. Her image of him was shorter, weaker and less attractive; the captain was disappointed that the Vulcan was taller than he by a few inches, and better looking than T'Pol had imagined him. Much better looking. The corners of Jon's lips turned down.
T'Pol also spotted Koss and decided his visage had improved with age. He was relatively tall, 6'3", and moderately thin -- 180 lbs. Thick black hair fell in perfect order around his green tinted face and his large black eyes sported long dark lashes. The Vulcan was definitely more handsome than she remembered. Unearthed memories on how she felt about him become unburied – she'd thought of the man as something in between a friend and an acquaintance. His family was exceedingly happy for Vulcans, bordering on jovial; she gathered it was because his parents seemed like a perfect fit. It was rare on Vulcan to see something that she now knew was love between the two; and Koss and his brother Sten seemed like the products of that union. T'Pol recognized in herself that she was more emotional than many Vulcans; she gathered it was a trait from her mother – something her father always abhorred. But, Koss seemed to welcome and accept her emotions; he was curious, somewhat proud (it came from being cherished by one's parents) and had something that appealed to her – passion. She had trouble remembering what made them incompatible. In an instant it came trickling back; she was definitely never stirred by him, he didn't appeal to her sense of adventure and he was too attached to his home planet.
Koss had moved into the field of architecture because he was "impassioned" to build a better Vulcan – make the planet stronger. T'Pol didn't want to feel tethered to her planet. The cosmos and adventure spoke to her as much as it did her husband; it was a siren to both of them. Besides, Jonathan, stirred her; he gave passion, eagerness and love unconditionally. Her choice, possibly no matter where she was, would always be her husband. The human had whispered often enough to her they were soul mates, destined to be together. And she believed it. Even now.
Picking up a glimpse of her thoughts, he turned to her and raised an eyebrow. The other Vulcans continued talking with Commander Tucker.
As Archer approached, Tucker smiled. "Here they are."
Koss gave the Vulcan IDIC greeting. "Greetings. T'Pol, it has been many years."
'You let your hair grow, it's becoming," he thought. "I'm glad to see you are alive.'
Rather than address the comments, she avoided his gaze and bowed her head. "Greetings," she claimed, returning the gesture.
Archer thought he noticed Koss' eyes strolling over his wife and drew his lips into a taut, jealous line.
Koss thought the captain was younger than someone in that position should be. Humans were undoubtedly redder and always looked flushed or flustered. He gathered Archer's demeanor was no different. His hubris was off-putting, but of course with humans it was to be expected … as was his odor. Though, he noted it had a tinge of Vulcan incense.
Trip noticed the two men squaring off and mentioned, "Uhm, this is Captain Archer and Enterprise's first officer and the captain's wife, T'Pol."
Koss seemed almost startled. "Wife?"
Tucker smiled, thinking this would probably be the most interesting meal he'd ever had with a bunch of Vulcans.
A stockier, shorter Vulcan with gray hair spoke up. "My name is Starn. I am the captain of the S'Lavan, the damaged ship that your engineer is helping to repair. This is T'Mair a fellow scientist. We are both from the Science Directorate. And, it appears you are familiar with Koss."
T'Mair was also older, but refined. She had dark, stone-like eyes and a severe expression plastered onto her face.
Archer waved everyone to sit down, pulling out a seat for his wife with a wink.
The captain leaned back in his seat and mentioned, "Well, you're a long way from home for an architect."
Koss agreed, "Indeed."
The captain eyed the man, expecting an explanation or story, but heard nothing. He shot a brief glance to Trip, who rolled his eyes subtly.
Trip plopped his elbows on the table, leaned over it, grabbed a bowl and started fishing around for some celery sticks.
"Star was telling me their ship ..." said Trip, pointing toward the Vulcan with the uneaten vegetable.
Koss corrected, "Starn, Commander."
Trip smirked. "That their ship was raided." He crammed the celery stick into his mouth and listened thoughtfully.
Jon asked, raising his eyebrows. "Raided? By whom?"
"Nausicaans," said Starn. "The equipment that we had aboard is considered valuable."
"What experiments were you conducting?" asked T'Pol.
'Is Archer the reason you will not answer my thoughts, T'Pol?' asked Koss as a thought. 'I was concerned about you after you contacted me a few months ago.'
Starn agreed, "Yes. There was a class nine nebula that, to date, has not been logged into the Vulcan database. I decided to take a few sample readings. Unfortunately, the equipment could be sold at a rather large profit. No doubt that is precisely what they have done."
T'Pol looked at her husband to determine if he'd heard Koss' thought to her.
Jon glanced at T'Pol; he could tell something was bothering her. "Sounds … fascinating," he said aloud. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to share that data?"
Tucker picked up the bowl full of celery sticks and offered it to Starn. The captain of the Vulcan ship turned his nose up, disgusted that the engineer had already touched the food with his hands.
Starn replied, "No, thank you, Commander. Yes, of course we can share our data with you, Captain."
Jon smiled, "We'd appreciate it."
Koss began to speak, "Captain, I believe you are aware that T'Pol and I were … T'Pol, what is the word in English?"
Jon continued to smile. "Yes, I'm aware you two were engaged. I understand that T'Pol chose to remain here and broke off your betrothal."
Koss' twinkling eyes turned dull. "I see."
"Aren't you married now?" asked Jon with a half-grin.
Koss folded his arms across his chest. "I am no longer married. My spouse perished this year."
Archer's face fell, "I'm sorry to hear that."
Koss thought to T'Pol, 'I doubt he could understand.'
T'Pol ignored him and sought out her husband's eyes. Jon glanced at her and wrinkled his forehead; she was acting very peculiar.
"You should have more of the r'la'ntha," said Archer, pointing it out to Koss.
The Vulcan raised his eyebrow and took a helping of the appetizer. He politely tasted some and looked at T'Pol.
'This tastes nothing like rh'la'ntha,' he thought.
'Stop,' she thought to Koss.
Archer heard her thoughts. "T'Pol?" he asked aloud.
"I must apologize. I do not feel well." She stood up and began to walk out.
Perplexed at her behavior, Archer pushed himself out of his chair. If he didn't know any better, she was acting downright emotional and possibly rude to the guests. She was always the epitome of control and duty. What had gotten into her?
"Excuse me for a moment," apologized Archer to the guests, before darting after her.
He caught up with T'Pol in the corridor outside the mess hall and took her arm. "What's going on? You seem … angry."
"I am unsettled. Very unsettled," she said. "I asked not to see him again."
'Can you still hear my thoughts?' she transmitted to him through the bond.
For some reason, she felt the need to continue to check in, as if at any moment, she would lose contact with her husband.
'Yes,' he thought back, still perplexed.
'And you do not hear Koss'?'
'Not so far,' Archer thought to her.
'Do my thoughts seem … less clear than usual?'
He pondered the question for a moment. 'Not really.'
She averted his eyes and continued to almost scowl at the floor.
'Do you want me to walk you back to our quarters?'
'That is unnecessary.'
He lifted two fingers. 'We'll talk about this when I get home tonight.'
She met his two fingers and ranted, 'He should not be able to communicate with me.'
Frustration forced her hands quickly and heavily back to her side.
He blinked – she was definitely not the same T'Pol he had known. 'Can you block his thoughts or end the link?'
Her eyes darkened, 'No.'
He consoled her by taking her cheek into his palm. 'Are you going to be okay?'
She gave a curt nod.
'Is it okay if we discuss this later?' he asked.
With only slight hesitation she responded, 'Of course.'
He put his hands on his hips and examined her. After she looked up at him stoically, he kissed her forehead. Her lips twitched, she straightened her spine, clasped her hands behind her back and strolled down the hall. Vulcan again.
Archer was unnerved. Irritation prickled his skin as he strode back into the dining room and saw that dinner had already arrived.
"Hope you don't mind Cap'n, we decided not to wait for ya," said Trip, digging into his meal.
"I understand," replied Archer, tossing his napkin back in his lap. "My apologies. T'Pol …."
Starn shook his head. "You need not explain anything to us. T'Pol has been around humans many years. It appears your emotions and …."
Archer was about to interrupt and correct the Vulcan, when Koss beat him to the punch, "How long have you been married to T'Pol, Captain?"
Starn raised his eyebrow at the architect and returned to his meal. T'Mair also seemed uninterested in their marriage, but eyed the young Vulcan with skepticism.
"About three months," stated Archer.
Koss' slender fingers formed a temple under his chin. "It is rare to see a Vulcan marry a member of another species. Would it be prying if I asked whether Vulcan has recognized this marriage?"
"No, it wouldn't be prying. Vulcan has recognized our marriage."
"Interesting. I would not have expected it. Our relationship with humans is still relatively new."
"New? You've known our people for about 100 years," quipped Tucker.
Archer shot a grin at his friend.
"Exactly as I said – new. But, then again you have a shorter lifespan," mentioned Koss. "Captain, you look to be in good health for a man your age. I would assume you are in your late thirties, early forties?"
"That's right," he agreed, furrowing his brow in confusion.
"Then I would estimate that you have another 60 or so years before you perish," said Koss.
"If I'm lucky," smiled Archer.
"T'Pol is young for a Vulcan. She has easily another one hundred years," noted Koss.
"I'm aware of that," retorted Archer.
"Interesting. Are you also aware of the probability of having children? 99.1% impossible," said Koss.
"That gives me .9% chance. I think I can handle that," countered Archer. He gave a smug grin.
Koss said, "It is unfortunate. T'Pol has always had a … fondness for them."
Tucker, Starn and T'Mair looked as though they were at a tennis match, turning from the architect to the captain.
"Yes she does. Is this going somewhere?" Archer asked.
"Just … curious. It seems my questions are upsetting you," said Koss.
"I think that's what you're trying to do," Archer shot back.
"On the contrary. I am fascinated in T'Pol's … choice. I would not have thought she would choose to marry a … human." He paused, sizing Archer up. "On Vulcan before she left, she indicated her distaste for Terrans. In my correspondence with her on Earth, she … hoped her stay would not be long."
"Things change," grinned Archer.
"It appears so," said Koss.
Starn used the brief silence to make his escape. "Captain, the conversation at dinner was most … unusual. Thank you for inviting us," he said.
"I also am prepared to retire," said T'Mair eagerly getting up to leave.
Archer raised his eyebrows and offered, "But, the chef made a Vulcan dessert."
"I am certain Koss will stay and eat this … dessert," said Starn getting up.
Archer stood up as both made their way to the door and sighed as they exited the Captain's Mess.
"You're staying, Koss?" he asked.
"Of course," agreed the Vulcan watching the others leave. He sat back and made himself comfortable, crossing his legs.
Trip glanced toward the door, hoping to make his getaway.
Archer frowned, "Trip you have some duties to perform?"
"Yes, sir. I'll be on the Bridge." Trip added with a devilish grin, "Enjoy the last day of your vacation."
Dessert was served as the two adversaries continued to talk.
"When did your wife die?" asked Archer sticking a spoon into the orange gushy fruit.
"Approximately eight months ago," said Koss. "I was … what you might call grieving until recently."
"How long do Vulcans grieve?"
"It depends. There is no slated amount of time. It is difficult to stop hearing your mate's voice or thoughts. In my case, it was not that difficult." He eyed Archer drinking some iced tea. "Do you hear T'Pol's thoughts?"
Archer choked on his drink and dabbed at his lips. After a few seconds of coughing he recovered enough to say, "Yes."
"And … is she able to hear yours?" he asked.
"Yes."
Koss' eyes twinkled. 'Can you hear me, Archer?' thought Koss.
Jon looked at him blankly, wondering why he was silent. "Are you trying to contact my wife?"
The Vulcan shot an interested eyebrow against his bangs. "No."
"But you have today?"
"Yes," he replied.
Beginning to get angry, Archer asked, "Why are you interfering? Weren't you … bonded … to your wife?"
"I was bonded to her, but the depth of my bond was not as strong. You see, T'Pol and I have been 'bonded' of a sort for many years – more than a half of a century … that's older than you are, Captain."
"I'd prefer you didn't use it to communicate with her. She doesn't want you to either."
"I understand your reservation. It is curious that you can communicate with her. The Science Directorate claims this is 91.5% impossible."
He grinned. "I told you I could handle small chances."
"Fascinating," claimed Koss.
"You'll stop communicating with her?" asked Archer.
"She deserves someone who can fully bond with her," said Koss, changing tactics.
"I am fully bonded with her," said Jon.
"No. If you were, she would not hear my thoughts."
"We haven't had that long to practice," he retorted lamely.
"Bonding should take no practice. I'm sure she turned to you during her Pon Farr," said Koss.
Feeling his blood pressure rise, Archer squirmed in his seat. Before Koss could continue, he said, "I thought Vulcans didn't discuss this with off-worlders, or amongst themselves."
"Captain, I felt her need. She asked me to mate with her. She begged me. But, I was unable to be here … and thus she chose you. It seems logical to mate with you rather than perish. And, as Vulcan customs stand, I can understand why she chose to remain with you. T'Pol is quite loyal."
"I don't believe you," spat Archer.
"T'Pol reached out to me. I was her first and initial choice."
"You're lying," he said.
"Your reaction, although irrational, is understandable. I can assure you I speak the truth," said the Vulcan. "A series of unexpected events occurred. I felt her Pon Farr … her need for me. One day, her mind discontinued reaching out for me. I assumed she had perished."
Archer scowled.
Koss continued, "Of course. Perhaps it was the bond that was already established many years ago. When I felt her mind go silent, I joined Starn and T'Mair so that I might collect T'Pol's body on behalf of her family."
"Why'd the journey take three months?" he asked, challenging this theory.
"I arranged my affairs at home, asked for a leave of absence from my place of work, booked passage, the attack …. Because she was dead, I did not believe her body was going anywhere."
"Why didn't you contact us before?" asked Archer. "Let us know you were coming."
"The ship caused damage to some of our navigational systems. It was by chance you happened onto us."
Archer's eyes shifted back and forth trying to figure out whether he could believe this story.
"I had not anticipated T'Pol would select to mate with a human."
Archer's stomach flipped and flopped. "She mentioned you, but indicated you weren't quite … compatible."
"Did she? If my thoughts are still clear to her, Archer, she may also be bonded to me; I may be more … compatible with her than you."
The information hit the captain like a ton of bricks, slamming against his psyche.
"I would like her to return to Vulcan with me. Or, I will join her here."
"She chose me. We're married," Archer said with confusion.
"Did she choose you because you had already mated?" asked Koss rhetorically. "Vulcans are not humans. They do not want … love. Honor, loyalty, trust … these are the things that bind Vulcans together. Romantic affection is a human feeling, and one we do not need or want." He steeled his eyes on the captain, watching him squirm. "I can provide her with many things you will never be able to offer – like children and stability. When we meet other Vulcans, we would be welcome, not a disturbing oddity. Our minds would satisfy each other. I would be able to care for her for another one hundred years. None of these options are available to you, Captain."
Archer scoffed, "That's about enough."
"You are being typically illogical." Koss raised his eyebrow, "I want what is best for her. Do you?"
"Isn't that her decision?" Archer asked. "And I think she already made it."
"Pride, arrogance – I was warned of those human emotions."
"That's funny, because they sure as hell don't seem isolated to humans."
The two stared each other down as the Vulcan furrowed his brow. After a few moments, he stood. "I believe I will also retire, Captain."
Archer nodded.
"This has been a most … illuminating discussion."
With that, Koss strolled out and Archer put his spoon down angrily. It was time to speak with his wife.
Chapter ThreeArcher marched down the hallway to his quarters, cursing under his breath every time his boot clapped against the deck plating. T'Pol had never embarrassed him before; he couldn't believe her audacity in leaving out important details about her relationship with Koss.
'Maybe that's why she didn't feel well,' he thought cynically.
When Archer entered his quarters, he saw T'Pol sound asleep. He paced around the room for a few minutes, feeling enraged and needing to find out what the hell was going on. But, he didn't want to wake her; she slept soundly and peacefully … and looked angelic doing so. Instead of shaking her shoulders and demanding an explanation, he sighed and sat down by her on the bed, turning the discussion with T'Pol ex-boyfriend over in his mind.
She stirred, sensing his thoughts about her. "Jonathan?" she asked sleepily.
Opportunity knocked – and he was going to answer, screw whether she felt tired. "You reached out to Koss during Pon Farr?" he accused right away.
She was nearly startled by the question. "It is senseless to bring up the past ….'
"I don't think so," he snapped.
She continued calmly, "Of course I reached out to a Vulcan before you. I was unwilling to admit my … feelings for you. And, I did not believe I would actually reach him. However, we've been bonded for so many years, it appears he heard me … even at a great distance."
"Why didn't you tell me before we saw him?" he asked.
"I did not think that detail was important."
Guffawing, he quipped, "Oh. Is that right?!" Spinning on his hells he wheeled around to her and growled, "Well, from now on, I'd like a little full disclosure."
"Do you tell me all your feelings about past girlfriends?" she asked.
He shirked the question, nostrils flaring.
"Jonathan, I also reached out to him because Vulcan mating rituals are quite … aggressive. I did not wish to harm you."
"I thought I handled it pretty well."
"I was gentle with you," she said.
"That was gentle?" he asked with wide eyes.
"Most assuredly. Besides, as I mentioned, I was unwilling to admit my attraction and … feelings … for you. Once we had mated, they were impossible to deny … although I did try."
"I remember. Koss actually told me he thought he'd make a better mate for you. Can you believe it?"
T'Pol pondered a life with Koss. She imagined intelligent children quietly reading in their rooms, their tiny pointed ears barely visible above large Vulcan scrolls. Her career as a scientist would undoubtedly be fulfilled at the Science Directorate in Shi'Kar. When he returned from work at night, he would most likely lead his children in the teachings of Surak and possibly meditation. And then, retire himself. The idea of waking up next to Koss seemed distasteful. He was a handsome man, possibly more passionate than the average Vulcan, but she doubted he would shower her with tiny kisses in the morning, sing in the shower or let loose a smile. Life would be mundane.
Her mind wandered to Jonathan's brood. They would be wild, uncontrollable, curious, prideful, excitable, charming and challenging. Hopefully they would have his warm green eyes and possibly his gentle smile, if they chose to embrace his culture. Her husband was not the most emotional man she'd ever met – that title belonged to Commander Tucker – he was a perfect balance of logic and feelings. Her children with him, if she could have them, would be treasured and enjoyed by both of them. This lifestyle appealed to her; she craved it. It was new, different and full of adventure.
Archer picked up a few of these thoughts, but seemed for the most part bewildered.
T'Pol was hesitant to inquire: "Did he ask to bring me home?"
"Not in so many words, but yes," he said. "Ridiculous, huh?"
She didn't seem amused.
'You're thinking about it?!' he demanded.
"Aisha, Koss may challenge our marriage – the K'lan'tat."
Archer narrowed his eyes. "Huh?"
"The K'lan'tat -- the wedding challenge. It is an ancient tradition; I know very little about it."
"Tell me what you know."
"After he asks me to choose my mate, he can take my decision to a Vulcan arbitrator to determine which of you I should be with … if he can prove I am able to hear his thoughts."
"An arbitrator decides who you should marry?" he asked. "Not you?"
"He will question my logic in choosing you. It is obvious, is it not, that I would choose you?" she asked.
"Well, I'm glad you confirmed it."
"We belong together," she said, stroking his hair.
He nuzzled his head into her hand. "I think so, too."
"I am certain that Koss is distressed I hear your thoughts at all. You do not realize how rare it is, Jonathan."
A thought drifted from his brain – great … rare … some comfort. It was times like these he wasn't crazy about Vulcan traditions.
As he got undressed and ready for bed, he questioned, "But, Vulcans do marry outside their species?"
"The number may be as low as … 10% of Vulcans do," she noted. "Most are considered outcasts. I am fortunate that Vulcan recognized our marriage. However, if Koss requests arbitration and we do not attend, we may have our marriage nullified according to Vulcan."
Archer slipped under the covers with his wife and propped his head on his hand, staring into her eyes. "You know, Koss was afraid he'd have to take your dead body back to Vulcan. I feel kinda sorry for him. He must've loved you … must love you … a great deal."
"Don't mistake duty for love. And, I am very much alive," she said.
"Ya know, I think he still does love you, or else he wouldn't ask for the wedding challenge."
T'Pol averted her eyes. "I do not care for him in that way. I prefer you."
"Well, on a selfish note, I'm glad you return my affections," he said. She kissed a bare shoulder, glad he hadn't worn a shirt to bed.
He snuggled her into the crook of his neck. "So, during arbitration, you choose me and then the judge, or whatever you call it, decides who you should be with?"
"Yes."
"What are the criteria?"
"Our bond would need to be perfect."
"Is it?" he asked.
"According to Vulcan rituals, no," she said. "If it were perfect, I would not be able to hear Koss' voice. And, there is the unification that you have not perfected."
He frowned, "What other conditions?"
"If you were ill, if you had rights to me first or … if I was carrying your child."
"That's it?" he asked with frustration.
"Yes," she said, with sadness leaking out of her voice.
"But, I'm not Vulcan. Why do I have to abide by them?" he asked. "I'm sure this can all be worked out …."
"No," she replied with a sigh.
"You think the arbiter will choose Koss?"
"Yes. It is almost a certainty. He and I would have a perfect bond, given time. And, I was his bond mate long before I was yours. Not to mention there is still prejudice on Vulcan regarding aliens, especially humans. Your race is seen as naïve, crude and impetuous."
Archer frowned. "Can you ask for immunity through Soval? Or, what if you don't show up."
"Soval would be unable to help me. In fact, he may be used against us. He has known me for sometime, and knows Koss was my bond mate long before you."
Archer's frown turned more worried.
"And, if I do not attend, I will be ostracized; I would be unable to return to Vulcan and see my family, the Sal-shana sand dunes, the temples of Shi'kar … and my property … all my belongings … will be forfeited to him."
"That seems so unfair," Archer grunted hoarsely.
"We … could work on one of the criteria," suggested T'Pol.
Archer got a hint as her thoughts swept into his mind. "T'Pol, we have a .9% chance."
"I thought you didn't mind those odds," she mentioned.
His mouth enveloped hers. "Let's see what we can do," he whispered.
Chapter FourArcher put on his uniform. It was his first official day back and he didn't want to be late, despite the events in his personal life.
T'Pol was in the shower when a thought came to her from no where, 'I know you are considering forfeiting your right to return to Vulcan and giving your property to me. I don't want that – I want what's best for you.'
'I will decide what is best for me,' she returned. It bothered her he was communicating with her again.
'I would be a dutiful spouse and provide for you. I will be able to provide you children.'
'I need more,' she returned.
'What?'
'Jonathan,' she thought.
'I would welcome your adventuresome and passionate nature … and the touching of lips,' he offered. 'I think you know I cherish thee deeply.'
'I am married. I have chosen already.'
'I've been concerned about you since you reached out to me in Pon Farr. I thought your life had ended. I … grieved for thee, possibly more than I did for my wife.'
'Do not communicate with me.'
'I know his passion appeals to you. I believe I can show you … lust, if that is your concern.'
'I need more than lust, Koss. I need Jonathan. It is not a simple matter of choosing you because you are Vulcan. He is my life mate.'
'Lifemate. Yes. It's clear you've made a mistake. I believe Vulcan would gladly nullify your marriage ….'
'I sought out Vulcan to honor my marriage. I haven't made a mistake.'
'T'Pol, I cherish thee. I always have.'
She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel.
Archer noted, "That was quick." He turned back around and continued shaving, leaving one half of his face foamy and one half smooth and clean.
She purred into his ear, "You look handsome."
"Why, thank you," he said in a deeper voice, filled with amusement.
She raised her eyebrow. She thought to him, 'I want to try again.'
He smiled, gave her a wink, kissed her forehead and went back to running the blade over his chin. "I can't; I'll be late."
After he placed the razor on the sink and began to run water over his face, she kissed his neck, biting it tenderly hoping to tempt the man. He dragged a towel across his face and noticed she was looking at him like she was ready to pounce on him at any second.
"What's gotten into you? You've been … worked up for about the past week."
She nibbled his lips. "I want your scent on me. I want him to know I care for you, crave you." She dragged him into a passionate kiss, letting her tongue nab his.
As they broke, Archer furrowed his brows and hugged her to him, thinking about the meeting he'd set up at 0800 hours with Trip, "How's that?"
She let her towel drop. "Not enough," she said unzipping his uniform. She projected wanton thoughts to him.
'Why are you doing this, T'Pol?'
'I want him to smell you on me,' she thought letting her hand wander down past his waist.
He groaned and grabbed her hand, "Whoa. I know you feel insecure. Hell, so do I. But, this is getting a little out of hand … so to speak."
"I want to discourage Koss in every possible way. I would think you would want that as well."
"I don't want to lose you, but it seems a little sick to me," he said. "No need to … rub his face in it."
She raised her eyebrow.
"What's going on?" he asked sensing there was something she didn't want to reveal.
He was right. She knew he would be angry if she confessed Koss wanted her and continued to reach out to her mind, promising to care for her and want her.
"He touched my mind again."
"What'd he say?" he questioned, trying to tamp down his jealousy.
"He reasoned why I should be his wife, rather than yours," she said. "He feels … lust toward me."
Archer let his anger fuel his passion. He pushed her gently, but firmly against the wall. "You want my scent on you?" he asked in a dark whisper. He began to push his arms out of his uniform.
"Yes," she panted.
Jealousy, anger, longing, love, protection, desire and fear detoured his brain. Half of those feelings didn't make any sense. One minute, he was worried about his meeting with his chief engineer and the next he and his wife were a frenzy of arms and legs. This normally wouldn't be a problem, but he felt … out of control … unable to stop himself … unwilling to stop himself.
The rational part of his brain, the one he used on the Bridge daily, wanted to talk about it with his wife, determine the root causes and then go try diplomatic channels with Koss. The masculine part of his brain, the husband part, just wanted to beat the hell outta the architect.
So, where did this need to have T'Pol come from? It was so easy to give in. His mouth … as well as other parts of his body … responded before his brain could really piece everything together or utter any words. Before long, he found himself lying next to T'Pol on the bathroom floor, completely spent. Time seemed to vanish and then reappear as he noticed, with pride, her face, neck and lips had flushed a deep green.
A smile wiggled itself onto his lips. "Think he'll smell me on you now?"
"That is a safe assumption."
Chapter FiveSkipping breakfast, Archer felt weak as he arrived two minutes late for his shift and past his pre-scheduled meeting time. As he strode onto the Bridge, he was greeted by smiles from his crew.
"Nice to see you, sir!" said Hoshi turning from her station.
Reed also turned. "You're looking well …."
Commander Tucker stood up from the captain's chair. "I believe this belongs to you, Cap'n."
Archer smiled and gladly sat down, giving his wobbly legs a brief respite. "Nice to see everyone."
Tucker leaned over. "I didn't see you at breakfast."
"Something came up."
Trip winked, "I bet it did."
Archer couldn't stifle a grin.
Travis arrived on the Bridge, looking like hell. "Sorry I'm late, sir. It's nice to see you," said Travis.
Archer smiled, "It's okay, Ensign. I just arrived myself."
Travis nodded and sat at the pilot's station. Everyone went back to his duties.
Tucker continued, "Most of the repairs to the Vulcan ship are complete. And, I created a report of events from the past two days."
"Thanks, Trip," he nodded toward his Ready Room and called out, "Lt. Reed, you have the Bridge."
The two men stepped into his office and began to talk. The engineer decided against pointing out the captain was walking rather stiffly. Instead, he grinned and followed at his superior officer's heels.
"Have a seat," said Archer, making his way to his desk. His fingers wrapped around the PADD and he began to look over the Engineering reports.
Trip nodded and decided to start with some small talk. "Koss was disappointed he didn't see you or T'Pol this morning," he mentioned.
Archer's mood darkened. "I bet."
Trip slowly sank into his seat and raised his eyebrows. "Anything going on I should know about?"
Archer confided, "I think Koss is going to challenge my marriage with T'Pol."
"Huh? Can he actually challenge your marriage?" asked Trip with confusion.
"It's complicated, but it seems he can take his challenge to a Vulcan judge and let him or her rule who T'Pol should be with."
"What are you going to do?" Trip asked.
"Don't know. I'm not sure what I can do. The judge will rule on my behalf for possibly one of several reasons … all of which are pretty damned unlikely."
"What are they?" he asked.
"My bond with T'Pol must be perfect, I have to become deathly ill or become a father."
Trip's eyes widened and he retorted, "Seems like you're trying real hard to work at the last one."
Archer furrowed his brow and gave a lopsided smile. "Nearly impossible -- .9% chance, Trip. That's slim." He squirmed a little. "Besides, I don't think I'm ready to be a father yet," he lied.
"Jon, you're 41."
Archer guffawed, "42. So?" He waved Trip off. "I convinced Starfleet to allow us to get married and work together. I doubt I'll be able to convince them to allow us to have kids here."
"You could get sick. I bet Dr. Phlox could make you real sick."
Archer squinted his eyes. "I don't think I want to become that ill. Besides, seems like a pretty lame trick to me."
"Hell, worked once before with T'Pol, didn't it?"
Archer recalled the event where his first officer was hit by a phase pistol, dodging in front of a Vulcan captain after being kidnapped and subsequently rescued.
"I'm not so sure the captain really bought it," the captain confessed.
"Any other ways to get outta this?"
"Not that I know of," Archer admitted.
"We could have a maintenance problem with Koss' doors making it impossible for him to leave. Or, he could have a communications failure," suggested Trip with a wicked smile.
Archer pondered the idea for a moment … only a moment. "No."
"Has he filed the … challenge?" Tucker felt way out of his league on this one, but wanted to be supportive.
"No, but I believe it's only a matter of time. If you've repaired their ship, I'm certain I'll hear from him soon."
Switching gears, Trip said, "Say, I've been meaning to tell you. Travis has been down in the dumps the past few days."
Archer agreed, "I could tell just seeing him today."
"Broke up with Fairbanks."
Archer frowned, "Ah, that's too bad. They made a nice couple."
"Yeah, gets worse. Travis caught her with Rostov," explained Trip.
"Oh, man," said Archer, wincing. "How'd you find out?"
"Let's just say yesterday Rostov showed up for work with a black eye."
Archer shook his head. "What'd you do?"
"Gave Travis the day off rather than toss him in the Brig. I also gave Rostov the day off. I'm leaving it off their records."
Archer nodded, "Good decision. I'll keep an eye on Travis, thanks for the head's up."
"I'm beginning to see why Starfleet has a fraternization regulation after all."
Archer raised his brows, "Wait a minute. What about you and Hoshi?"
"I can see why they have the regulation. Doesn't mean I abide by it," said Trip with a wink. "That girl can …."
"I don't want to hear it," interrupted Archer.
"Cook! Never eaten so well in my life," he scratched his forehead and chided his friend. "Geez, Cap'n, what'd you think I was gonna say?"
"I never know," Archer chuckled.
Tucker went over the details of everything else Archer needed to know about, including engine efficiency, a summary of the downloaded data on the class 9 nebula given to them by Starn, as well as a few other items. As the engineer went over the list, Archer was glad he was 'minding the store.' His third in command was more than competent, which had a way of making a man relax.
After debriefing, Trip said, "Well, I better get to Engineering. Got some more 'repairs' to complete. Say, what if let's just say, Koss had trouble opening his cabin door and …?"
"No, Trip," he said with a scowl. "Don't do anything to Koss' quarters."
"Aye, sir," he said, defeated.
Archer offered, "But, I appreciate the thought." He paused looking more official. "I noted you had some engine repairs you wanted to make."
Trip and Archer filed out of the Ready Room and onto the Bridge.
"Cap'n, on the matter-antimatter injectors," explained Trip. "Got time tomorrow about 0600 … that is if something doesn't come up?"
Archer frowned, "I'll be there."
As Trip called the turbolift, T'Pol stepped out. She bowed her head, "Commander Tucker."
"Hey, T'Pol," he said as they exchanged places. "Good to see you on the Bridge," he smiled.
The doors slid shut and she raised her eyebrows. The crew welcomed her back as she sat at her station.
Hoshi walked up. "It's great to see you back."
Reed sighed at her. "Nice to have you back, Sub commander."
Travis turned around and smiled. "You look terrific."
Archer had to admit, she had a nice green glow to her skin. He beamed thinking it was because of their embrace earlier that morning. Watching her sent a warm tingle down his stomach and settled there. God something about her … he could just watch her all day ….
As she leaned into the scanner, she gathered his thoughts, turned her head over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow. Caught, Archer gave a bemused laugh, sat in his chair, picked up a PADD and reviewed some reports.
'Focus on work,' he told himself. Why was it so damned difficult? He'd been married for three months; maybe the whole thing with Koss was the problem. That's probably why he was feeling so protective.
After shaking his head and staring at his PADD, he lost himself in the nacelles, power couplings, power relays, medical supplies and other information he had to review and approve.
Within a few hours, Hoshi picked up an internal ship transmission. "Captain, Koss wants you and Sub commander T'Pol to meet him in his quarters."
Archer took a deep breath. 'I guess this is it,' he thought. "Alright. Go ahead and let him know we'll be there shortly."
'I have no doubt he will confront us,' thought T'Pol to Archer.
He nodded. "T'Pol, you ready?"
"Of course," she said.
They walked to the turbolift and stepped in. T'Pol turned to him as soon as the door closed. "Please allow me to speak on our behalf. And … can you contain your jealousy?"
He took her hand to his lips. "I'll try."
"It's imperative you do."
The door opened and they walked down the hall, hand-in-hand. As they reached the door, T'Pol could smell a meditation candle burning. She separated their hands and rang the chime.
Koss appeared at the door wearing a long Vulcan robe. "Come in."
All three gathered around a makeshift table in the middle of the cabin and sat down.
Koss began, "Your cook made sl'avanth. I know it is one of your favorites."
"Thank you for your consideration," noted T'Pol.
He bowed his head and sniffed the air. 'His scent is dripping off of you,' he thought.
'He is my husband … my life mate. Of course I smell like him. I want to smell like him. I want him.' She glanced away. 'I had hoped by having him you would understand you and I can never be together.'
Dumbfounded, Archer sat viewing the two of them, hearing one side of the conversation. True to his word, he tried not to speak or interfere.
Koss continued aloud, "I met T'Pol when I was a boy. On our second meeting while our parents discussed betrothal matters, T'Pol and I … practiced … a Vulcan embrace. Even at a young age, it stirred me." He looked into her eyes. "She is emotional for a Vulcan, Captain. It's interesting that I have never minded that about her. It's something I … appreciate."
Archer's lips drew into a straight line. T'Pol sighed internally, "This reminiscence is unhealthy. I wish to be your friend, but cannot be anything more than that."
"Remember when your father caught us practicing that embrace," said Koss, focusing on the past.
"I do," she acquiesced.
"He was a stern man; I was … surprised … by his reaction. Do you remember what he told us?" asked Koss.
"He mentioned that we would have plenty of time for that. He saw it as a sign that we were well matched," said T'Pol.
"I thought so as well. Why did you chose Enterprise over me?" he asked. "It is illogical."
"I thought we were ill-matched," she said. "My decision was logical. Yours seems illogical. Why would you pursue me after I am married, especially after hearing my decision?"
"If you can still hear my thoughts, it is logical for us to be together," said Koss. "Although we were not … fully bonded and you are already given to another, we should not be able to hear each other's minds. This indicates we are better matched than you and Archer."
"You are again deluding yourself," she replied. "I hear Jonathan's thoughts more clearly than yours."
Koss glanced at Archer. "Have you been able to sustain the Kaunsh'es?"
Archer understood this as the union of thought. "Yes."
Koss raised his eyebrow. "I gathered from T'Pol's thoughts you had difficulty with this."
"It's getting easier," he assured, after exchanging a brief look at T'Pol.
Koss began to serve food to his guests. "T'Pol, I suppose you choose Archer over me?" he asked.
She stared at him blankly. "Yes. I would've thought it was apparent, and that I had already stated as much."
"You know I will demand arbitration on this matter. I have the right to K'lan'tat. I came back to collect you after thinking you had perished."
"I am quite alive," she noted.
"You belong to me. I believe I can make your life on Vulcan comfortable."
"I belong to no one; I give myself to Jonathan."
"He is a human. You deserve someone who can complete your bond."
"I felt complete, until you interfered. And the fact that he is human is perhaps one of the reasons why I chose him. He … stirs me."
"Emotion," he said.
"We have them as well," she countered. 'You have passion for me.'
"I believe you would be better off with me," he noted, adamantly. He was determined that T'Pol had acted impulsively; she was known to do that from time to time. And that duty and honor bound her to a relationship.
"You call on ancient rituals," she countered.
"Nevertheless, will you abide by this ritual?"
She gave a near frown and eyed Archer. She gave a small sigh. "I'd hoped I could reason with you. I would like to think about it."
"I have already initiated the challenge; I filed the request already. Until then, you should abide by the rules. Do you know them?" he asked.
Archer was starting to feel a little edgy. He'd managed to keep quiet and put a lid on his envy, but this was the limit. "Rules?" he demanded.
"She is considered married to both of us and neither of us," said Koss.
"What?" asked Archer.
"She is … in a way … considered my wife. And, I have equal access to her. She must spend the same amount of time with me that she spends with you."
Archer got the message and that message pissed him off. "Stay the hell away from her!"
"Jonathan, please," she said.
Archer glared at his wife with frustration and then shot that glower over to Koss. "Well, I don't give a damn about your traditions and ancient rituals. T'Pol is my wife! This equal access …."
T'Pol touched Archer's arm to calm him. 'Jonathan, we discussed this in the turbolift. Please allow me to talk on my own behalf,' she thought.
'It isn't just about you, T'Pol. Sounds like this guy wants you. When he says equal access, I don't think he means asking you to make him some tea."
'Do not let your emotions interfere with your reasoning. I will not become ensnared in a precarious situation.'
Koss heard T'Pol's side of the conversation of thought. He rested his chin on his two index fingers that formed a temple.
T'Pol glanced over at Koss, noticing he was somewhat amused by their quarrel.
'I don't like this,' thought Archer
'It is not your decision,' she returned.
'You must be pretty happy with this arrangement!'
'I am not happy. Please, Koss can hear my side of this conversation. If you could keep control ….'
'I'm not just going to stand around and let him do this to us!'
'If you continue to act emotionally, I will not be able to control mine,' thought T'Pol, feeling mad and then clearing the thought from her mind.
Archer's face reddened as he felt fury eat away at his self-control. 'Too emotional, huh?! Well, maybe you should've married a Vulcan! I guess this is your big chance.'
T'Pol's widened her eyes as he continued.
'Although you seemed to be begging for my emotions this morning, or don't you remember?!'
"Koss and I will continue this conversation alone," T'Pol said aloud, flustered and wanting her thoughts with her husband to come to an end. Nothing could be gained, and undoubtedly Jonathan was too angry to let her handle the affair. Strange that she felt relatively calm, despite his last attack.
Jon jerked his head back and stared on. "What the hell?"
Koss spoke, "If that is what you wish, T'Pol. Captain?" The taller Vulcan stood up as if to escort Archer to the door.
Jon's mouth dropped, waiting for T'Pol to change her mind. Instead she stared into space, avoiding his gaze and quieting her thoughts. After Archer realized she wasn't bluffing, he glared at her and stormed out.
As the door slid shut, Koss continued. "He has a volatile and violent nature. Are you certain you choose him?" he asked.
T'Pol furrowed her brows. "He is not usually prone to emotional outbursts. But, I would gather he does not understand. And frankly, neither do I."
Koss ignored the comment. "An arbitrator will contact us tomorrow morning at roughly 10 a.m. What do you plan to do?"
"I choose to stay in my own quarters tonight, away from both of you."
"I do not think Archer will like it."
"I think you are correct," she said.
"It is difficult to understand why you would choose a lesser species over me," said Koss.
"They are not … lesser. Merely different," she replied.
"Sounds like affection. Another emotion," said Koss.
"If I am so emotional and illogical, why do you challenge my marriage?" she asked. "Why do you want me?"
That got his attention. Koss stared off into space. "Although it is illogical, I have been unable to … remove you from my thoughts. After you called to me, I found my blood … stirred."
"Stirred?" she asked. She was uncertain she had triggered a response in him. "But, you'd been bonded with your life mate?"
"I do not understand it. Perhaps we were not together long enough." He leaned in closer to her. "And, yes, I am stirred. What would you have me say? Although I have not re-entered my cycle I have … found my blood boiling for you."
"I did not realize I had caused this reaction."
Koss shook his head. "It is true nonetheless. I …" he touched her chin, "am having difficulty meditating since you called to me. These few months have been … difficult."
She turned her head, moving her chin from his hand.
"I did not burn for you until I came aboard the vessel and saw you," he whispered. "Perhaps it is the constant bombardment of emotions. Perhaps it is that I have always found you … aesthetically pleasing. Perhaps it is the lust you feel. And you do feel it."
"For my husband, yes." After watching his eyes grow shadowy, she stood and headed for the door.
"I believe we should end this conversation," she mentioned.
"Are you going back to Archer?" he asked with a tinge of jealousy leaking out of his voice. She raised an eyebrow at his obvious emotion. Two fingers unexpectedly touched hers in gentle strokes.
"Tell me you feel nothing when I do this," he whispered.
She felt a jolt of electricity – a guilty pleasure. Perhaps Jonathan's physiology was not as conducive to electricity, or perhaps Vulcans had more practice. All she knew was after Koss' fingers met hers, she gasped internally, but did not flinch externally. Her mind had already revealed itself to Koss and Jon. She took her hand away quickly and tried to place a mental wall between her and her husband and the Vulcan in front of her.
"You took me by surprise," she commented.
"I think the way you feel about what I did was more than … surprise. I felt … arousal. Perhaps I can stir you."
"I should go," she claimed.
"Remember the name I used for you when we were children … in case our parents found our correspondence?" he asked.
"Rat is the Earth term," she said.
He raised his eyebrow. "Mouse would be more appropriate. You were … small and vulnerable." He looked over her. "When I first met you, you were gangly and awkward. Over the years I saw you develop and mature into a graceful woman. T'Pol, it is illogical to want, but I do. I want you."
His fingers reached out to hers again, as his hot breath touched her ear. "I have more strength. I understand our ways – our rites, rituals and traditions. You will not be disappointed."
"I will not change my mind," she countered, moving away and out the door.
Chapter SixArcher was furious. He mumbled to himself all the way back to his cabin, stomping his feet toward his quarters. As he entered the room, he looked at his wedding ring and had the urge to hurl it at the wall. Vulcans seemed to know nothing about the honor and sanctity of marriage. He had no say in all the ridiculous Vulcan rituals; hell, they wouldn't even listen to him! Humans were zilch; his customs didn't matter one iota. Figures.
'Why did we agree to help the vessel?' asked Archer, tingling with irritation. Trip had given him an out, but he'd refused to take it. Ah, hindsight.
Archer paced around the room and decided to cool down. He trusted his wife. Just as he'd influenced himself that his wife would do what was best for them, Archer felt something in the back of his mind; he felt desire. It was coming from T'Pol.
Koss' hands were sharp with electricity, stroking her fingers. Archer could feel T'Pol's pulse quicken and her heartbeat race, like this morning when they were together. A tiny gasp shook her internally at the sensation. One single thought loomed in her mind at the Vulcan embrace, "Yes."
That was it!
The idea that another man could make her feel lust sent his imagination and male ego into overdrive. Suddenly his pacing became frantic. His hands clenched and unclenched as he fought the urge to punch a hole in the wall. No, he wanted to punch a hole in Koss. Under no circumstances, did Archer want his wife to feel a smidgen of excitement with that Vulcan. Ever!
Everything after that moment he could sense between his wife and Koss was a blur.
Jealousy overtook him -- his heart, stomach and mind. Who could blame him? T'Pol was like water in the desert – necessary to his survival. Sensing another man's hands on her and how it felt … and that it felt good … was too much. This was something he just couldn't deal with and didn't want to.
When T'Pol entered their cabin, pausing at the door, she could tell he was upset … she was able to decipher his emotions.
"Jonathan, I cannot speak with you very long. According to the challenge …," she began, stepping cautiously into the room.
"I don't want to talk to you," he said with venom as the door slipped shut.
She hesitated and then continued; after all, she had expected this reaction. "I need to explain the custom you must …."
"I said … I don't want to talk to you," he spat, restraining his anger.
Perhaps she had not expected this. "Let me explain."
"Get out," he growled calmly, but with antagonism.
She breathed deeply and continued, "It is part of the agreement. I share my time equally between you and Koss. Please listen when I say …."
"I said … get out!" he yelled.
Despite her husband's emotional response, she wanted to be there with him and nervously stepped toward him. "Until a verdict has been reached, I will stay in my old cabin. It has not been reassigned yet."
He stood up and warned her, invading her personal space. "Did you hear what I said?! I said – leave me the hell alone! I don't want to hear you or see you."
She continued, "I must share my time with both of you. And, what I do with one, I must do with the other. If you kiss me, I must return the favor to him."
A tumult of anger exploded from the inside, rippling through him like a hurricane in an ocean. He barely felt in control of his emotions and couldn't stop them from sweeping through the room and nearly blowing her over.
He burst.
"I didn't agree to this! You didn't consult me! What the hell were you thinking … are you thinking! We're a couple, T'Pol. You and me. But, when I tried to speak up for myself, you had the nerve to …."
"Jonathan," began T'Pol.
He stopped in his tracks and with particular nastiness in his voice, he said, "Oh, don't even …. Admit it, he turned you on."
Shocked, her lips split apart.
"I felt it, T'Pol. I felt your arousal! So, when I say leave me alone, I mean – leave me alone!!" he yelled – his voice sending Porthos running under the bed.
"You're jealous," she noted.
"YES!"
"There's no reason to be."
He snorted.
"Jonathan," she said softly.
She knew how to get to him, but he was still pissed. "Your ex-boyfriend … bond mate … whatever … comes waltzing back into your life, is able to communicate with you in a way that is intimate, and demands to have you back. And you wanted to kiss him! Hell yeah I'm jealous!!"
"I did not want to kiss him. I care for you," she responded.
He growled and put his head into his hands. This was pretty damned confusing. All of it.
'I'm sorry my thoughts revealed themselves to you. I did nothing more. You can search my mind.'
Having her open up her mind to him made him feel better, if not a little ashamed at himself. She had no idea where the arousal came from and seemed almost surprised by it. In fact, after she was amazed she had a twinge of anger, but immediately felt that leave and be replaced with serenity.
Her husband was still a little worked up, searching his wife's eyes, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with both of them. T'Pol's emotions felt like tiny almost unnoticeable shockwaves that shimmied and them stopped. His feelings were jarring and the magnitude catastrophic.
A wave of peace passed over him and he sighed deeply. Archer put his arm around her shoulder, and hugged her to him. "I'm sorry."
"I am conflicted about honoring this," she whispered into his uniform. "But, I feel I have no choice."
"There are always choices."
"Everything I own would be his – my mother's tapestries, ancient scrolls that have been in my family almost since the time of Surak and my scientific equipment. I would be unable to return to Vulcan and see my cousins," she reminded him.
"I know it must be difficult, but I thought I was your home. I thought this is … was … is … your home. I just don't want you to make a decision about us without my input."
"The decision is and was mine to make," she noted, becoming agitated.
"But, this affects us – you and me. That means we make that decision together."
She shook her head. "I don't concur. Could you agree never to return to Earth? Could you give away your mother's collection of hardcover books – including the poetry she read to you as a boy? Would you be able to give your apartment away to your government? A picture of your father and you camping? The models you built as a boy? Would it be so easy to give all of that away? Especially to a woman you didn't love?"
Archer bit his lip. He still disagreed about the decision, but didn't want to fight with her. All he wanted to do was figure out how to be with her. He stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes and lowered his head for a small kiss.
"I can't," she replied, stepping away. "If you do so, I would also need to reciprocate the gesture with Koss. What I do with you, I must do with him."
He felt a lump in his throat forming.
Sadly, she explained, "I must do further research, it's an older custom. I am concerned that Koss admitted to me that when I went through Pon Farr, he was … moved."
With confusion Archer asked, "Moved?"
"You're right; he does … want me."
"I thought Vulcans were emotionless?"
Chiding him she said, "Aisha, I have lust for you and show you various emotions from time-to-time. Being Vulcan is about supressing emotions, or at least trying to. And, although that is the goal, Vulcans are not always successful."
Archer took her hands in his, "I don't like him touching you, or thinking about you."
"I don't either."
"But … you're … attracted to him?" he wasn't sure why he was asking. Emotion was tugging at him, warping his self-image and riddling him with insecurity – something he rarely felt.
She raised an eyebrow, hesitating.
"Afraid to tell me?" he challenged.
Unwittingly, she said, "I think he is handsome. He is mentally stimulating. When our fingers touch, I feel … something akin to electricity. He is strong and … I would also say for a Vulcan he has … passion. He is rebellious, intriguing and somewhat unpredictable."
She walked around Archer, "We have known each other's minds … in a way … for more than fifty years. Although we have only seen each other four, perhaps five times, his thoughts have been in the back of my mind most of my life. When I left for Earth, his thoughts were gone. If he had come first when I was in Pon Farr, when I called to him … I would have given in to him."
Archer squinted, trying to accept the information she'd given him.
"Although I am … pleased … Koss did not answer my call. The fact that he has been stirred by my request during Pon Farr, touches me. He does care deeply for me. The fact he has traveled great distances to collect my body on behalf of my family makes me feel … gratitude and something akin to sadness."
Jon exhaled deeply and cleared his throat. All right. She'd given him a lot more than 'Yes, I suppose he's attractive, but not as handsome as you.' That's what he really wanted, just a little reassurance, but she didn't deliver. And, that hurt him.
"Would you like to know how I feel about you?" she asked.
He shook his head, unable to croak out any words.
"You are sensual, graceful, exciting, and bold. You are also mentally challenging. You are emotionally stimulating. You are handsome and … virile. You are passionate … for a human … much more than a Vulcan," she said walking up and caressing his face. "Noble, courageous, sensitive, genuine, intelligent, charming. When I watch you do something as mundane as walk across the room, I feel … desire. You have a smile that stirs my emotions, and a twinkle in your eye that … amuses me. Your voice is sweet, especially when you sing in the shower." She had many other things to say, but needed to drive one point home, "Listen to me. You are my world. You and you alone are my life mate, my husband. I am relieved you came to me during Pon Farr. I have wanted you for some time, perhaps a year, maybe longer. You complete me in a way no other, ever, will be able to. You are my soul mate. You are able to touch me like no other. Do I make myself clear?"
That managed to really choke him up – embarrassingly so. The captain was not a man to cry or feel sentiment so deeply. Now? Tears were barely kept at bay, leaving his eyes glassy.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yes," he whispered. "I may be acting irrationally and like a jealous husband, but that's what I am … your husband. In my culture, the very thing Koss has invoked is revolting. People on my planet get divorced for less."
"Are you suggesting you wish to end our marriage?"
"No."
"Then, what do you want?"
"I want you to end this," he said sitting down.
"You want me to revoke my property to him and deny ever going back to Vulcan?"
"No. I just … I can't share you with him," he said, gazing into her eyes. "But … I guess it is your decision."
"I wish I didn't have to share my time with him as well. It seems there's no easy solution."
"I guess not," he agreed.
Archer shifted his eyes for a moment and glanced at the clock. "I'm fifteen minutes late already," he said with exasperation. "How soon do you think we can get arbitration?"
"Koss indicated tomorrow morning."
"He doesn't waste any time."
"No, he doesn't," she replied.
"Do you think you can continue to … prevent him from …?" asked Archer with a husky voice.
"I believe so, yes. Vulcans are not like humans. He may want me, but he will most likely not give in."
He let that insult about humans slide. Instead he counted on the impossible … after all, he was desperate. "Maybe one of the conditions has already been met, unbeknownst to us?" His hand wandered over her stomach and rubbed it gently. Sheepishly, his eyes met hers.
"Doubtful," she expressed. The possibility was too remote.
His eyes pleaded with her for a glimmer of hope. "You never know."
"I'll see Dr. Phlox right away."
"Let me know as soon as you find out."
She gave a sympathetic nod and walked out.
Archer collected himself and mused about the situation, specifically Koss. Under different circumstances, he may've considered the man a friend. But, not now. What bothered him was -- Vulcans couldn't love. So, why would Koss be so interested in her? Actually, that wasn't true. Archer felt something akin to love from T'Pol, otherwise the relationship would never have worked. They veiled the emotion in "cherishing" and "caring," but the feel, the actual emotion, seemed like love. The confession T'Pol just made definitely was; and that reassured him.
It was sad that maybe Koss had those feelings for T'Pol, but she would never return them. Well, sad for Koss, but lucky for him. He took a deep breath, stuffed his insecurity down and headed off to the Bridge.
Chapter SevenThe day went by quickly and Archer headed to his empty cabin at the normal time. Unfortunately for the two of them, Phlox was busy all day or all evening. The physician was called away for one emergency after another. The test only took an hour to complete, but he didn't have enough free time to devote to even that one simple task. And Archer was definitely anxious to find out, even if he doubted it would be good news.
Since he couldn't see his wife, Jon decided to use his time to read Vulcan law. He found very little in the databases about the wedding challenge, but had confirmed the criteria. There were a few cases where some poor bastards had to go through with it. Somehow the writing was unemotional, but he suspected it was a nightmare. Reading Vulcan was incredibly dry, drier than reading Reed's very precise armory reports. There were cases where Vulcans who were seemingly in love were split apart and forced to marry someone against their wishes. Logical.
'Stupid,' corrected Jon.
Having studied for hours, and feeling sleepy – at only 2000 hours – he decided to make a quick call to his wife before getting a little extra shuteye. They chatted briefly about what they'd learned studying the Vulcan texts. T'Pol suggested they end the communication so she could get back to pouring over more information.
"Okay," said Archer, lightly stroking the comm's button.
"Good night," she said.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I cherish thee, too."
He sighed, "You know, it's empty without you here."
"I miss you, too."
"Yeah, I miss you," he said boyishly.
"I'll talk with you soon."
"I noticed you forgot your hairbrush. Want me to send it over?" he asked.
"I'm fine."
"Okay, sweetheart. Gonna think about me while you meditate?"
"Jonathan?"
"Yes?"
"I'll talk with you tomorrow morning," she said with confusion.
"You end the communication first."
"Very well."
"T'Pol?"
"Yes?" she said, letting irritation leak into her voice just a tad.
Archer professed, "I love you from the tiny points of your cute little ears to your very suckable pinky toes."
"Are you intoxicated?" she asked.
Funny, he did feel a little strange. "No, just … I don't know. "
"Good night, Jonathan. I cherish thee," she whispered, ending the call.
He stared at the comm for a second. Archer chided himself, 'What's wrong with me?'
His head hit the pillow as he stared at the ceiling for a second, wondering about the mushiness overtaking him. He closed his eyes just for a moment to ponder why he felt so emotional, and then he promptly began to snore. So, without brushing his teeth, washing his face or even changing, he fell asleep on top of the covers.
Before his alarm went off, he woke up to a queasiness overpowering him. His feet hit the carpet and he ran with a burst of speed into the bathroom, emptying his stomach over and over and over. After purging his stomach completely, he stood up. Instead of regaining his faculties, he knees gave way and his face rushed to meet the ground. He slipped into unconsciousness.
Chapter Eight"I have no idea what's wrong with him," said Phlox looking over his sleeping captain. The guy had a nasty bruise on his forehead – probably where his head met the commode. "I've ruled out just about everything I can think of."
T'Pol looked at her husband with concern. He'd been acting strangely all week. His last via the comm was rather bizarre.
'Is this a ruse? No, he wouldn't do something that foolish,' she noted. 'Would he?'
Phlox tapped his chin. "I'll run a few more tests. Well … no sense in having you stay here; I'll call you when I have more information."
She claimed, "I wish to stay here for a while longer. If that is permissible."
Phlox smiled, "Absolutely." He hummed to himself and began walking around. "Oh, before you walked in, I began running the test you asked me to complete, Sub commander," said Phlox. "You should find out very shortly."
She nodded. "The chances of conceiving are remote at best. It was unrealistic to hope for that."
"Just because it's unrealistic, doesn't mean you don't want it to happen. You're newly weds. You have plenty of time."
She didn't respond.
"Sub commander?"
She gave a very small sigh, "It would have been … fortuitous if I was pregnant now."
Phlox jerked his head back, "Why is that?"
"It is a family matter."
"Oh," said Phlox. "Well, if you feel like opening up …."
T'Pol weighed the idea of telling him and decided it might actually help. "Koss is challenging my marriage to the captain."
Phlox raised his eyebrows trying to look surprised, "Can he do that?"
T'Pol folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, he can."
"Seems silly," said Phlox placing samples of red and green blood in a centrifuge.
"Silly? Perhaps to you, but during the time of Surak, when Vulcans were barbarians, Vulcan women were kidnapped from their husbands. This was a way to determine who would be the best and most logical bond mate."
"Why don't Vulcans use the same process for mating?" asked Phlox.
"Mating is somewhat different. Our blood boils. Our minds are unclear. With the wedding challenge, our minds are mostly clear and thoughtful. Engaging in combat would be illogical."
"It already seems illogical to me. Vulcans aren't barbarians any longer."
"And your culture would suggest I marry both?" she asked.
Phlox smiled, "It is rather convenient." He paused. "Seems like both men are dissimilar enough to meet many needs … and they have some similar qualities. You would be able to have children with Koss. And Captain Archer seems like an excellent match, more satisfying to you."
"Are you suggesting Koss is more suitable to be my husband than Jonathan?"
Phlox smiled, "Of course not. After all, I like to think I had a hand in putting you and the captain together."
Her eyebrow climbed against her forehead. "Really?"
Phlox pulled the blood samples from the centrifuge and began preparing them for the microscope.
"Tell, me, Doctor. Did Captain Archer already see you about this issue? Did you decide to … provide him with a serious illness?"
Phlox dropped a slide. "Heavens, no."
"It is rather … convenient that he has contracted an illness the night before arbitration."
"Rather unfortunate I would say," he added.
"His illness may swing the ruling in our favor."
"Hmmm …. Is that so?" asked Phlox.
She stood and clasped her hands behind her back. "Can he be cured of this illness you've given him?"
"Sub commander, I didn't give him an illness."
"I hope not; providing one would be a foolish plan. And, something I would think my husband put you up to."
"I can't believe you think I would actually give an illness to one of my patients."
"Perhaps I am mistaken," she said. Phlox seemed to smile. "But, I doubt it."
Phlox frowned at the accusation and prepared an enzyme. He placed elements of her blood it in. "I'll call you if I find out anything with your test or your husband. Or yourself."
"Please do not let him suffer too long," she said before walking out.
Phlox shook his head.
Chapter ElevenT'Pol walked back to her quarters. Did her husband purposefully contract some illness? Her cheeks became dark as she remembered waking up in Sickbay after receiving a phase pistol burn; the Vulcan captain seemed convinced that she couldn't return to his ship.
She reflected on that matter. "He was able to deceive the Vulcan captain," she noted. "Was that Vulcan captain actually fooled?" She raised her eyebrow and decided to reflect on it further.
The doorbell chimed. T'Pol knew it was Koss.
"It is 1000 hours," he noted. He glanced around, "Where is Archer?"
"In Sickbay."
"What is wrong with him?" he asked.
"Unknown. Dr. Phlox is working to determine that now."
"Seems rather … convenient he becomes ill now," stated Koss.
"Humans are prone to more disease than us. It is not … unlikely."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you requesting that I postpone the arbitration? I would think it would be best to conclude this matter."
"I've come to a decision, since it seems you are unwilling to bend. I will allow my marriage to Jonathan to become null and void in the eyes of Vulcan. My property is yours."
Koss furrowed his brow. "You can't mean this."
"I do."
"T'Pol, that is an illogical decision."
"I say again – I will not leave him," she said. "When he and I became involved, I believed I would be unable to return home anyway. I should not have let this drag on. I was … eager … to have Vulcan continue to recognize our union. My 'eagerness' was misguided. He is ultimately more important to me than my personal belongings. It pains me I will be unable to see Vulcan or family members, but … so be it."
He felt his mind was having difficulty focusing on her words. Why was having her so important? Maybe it was because she had denied him, turned him away? No, he found her intriguing; he always had. As a boy he'd felt almost joyful seeing her, knowing she would be his life mate. She'd always been beautiful, curious and intelligent. Her passion was the thing he valued and treasured most. When she walked down the street, even in her Vulcan robes, he had the sense she was flaunting her sex. When she debated, her voice trembled and quivered as if winning was important. He'd also seen her cry – when her mother perished. She was one of the most tender Vulcans he had ever met, and he couldn't help but want to be near her. She was like standing next to the sun – scalding, warm, inviting and powerful. He wanted that. He wanted her – no matter how illogical.
"Can Archer make your blood boil?" He drew her to him, wanting to put his mouth on hers – the idea seemed fixated in his brain ever since he'd discovered the humans' embrace. His mouth watered at the thought.
"Yes, he alone stirs me," she said easily, breaking contact with him.
"Our joining of the hands; you enjoyed that."
"I enjoy his embrace more."
"The bond of unity," he said. "I could fulfill that with you."
"That is not ultimately what is most important to me," she said.
He whispered into her ear, "We have much in common. Your family accepts me," he retorted, pleading with his eyes.
"Perhaps too much in common," she indicated. "Koss, you know my … feelings toward you."
He whispered, "We belong together." He touched her cheek. "You let me touch your fingers … you let me touch you when we were young, much more than our parents realized. Do you remember?"
T'Pol was curious about the Vulcan male body – how it worked, what it looked like. A scientific textbook was hardly adequate – she wanted to feel it and see it. During one of the visits Koss and his family made when she was in her 40s, she took him on a tour of her house. She led him into her bedroom and closed the door. He was perspiring lightly, which gave her the idea.
"You might be cooler without your clothing," she offered.
He hesitated for a moment, as she chided, "Embarrassment is an emotion."
Koss reluctantly disrobed, wrapping his fingers around his clasp and letting the dark material fall to the floor. He was left in a shimmering purple tunic that flowed like a gown.
"Are you still warm?" she asked, encouraging him to continue disrobing.
Nakedness was not something that bothered Vulcans – neither positively nor negatively. It was simply there. In fact, it was illogical to deny there was nakedness. He pulled the material from his long, lean body and let her eyes peruse him. It seemed harmless, undoubtedly she'd seen a male body before in texts.
"May I?" asked T'Pol holding her hand near his body to glide her fingers over it.
"Of course," he replied. He had never let a woman touch him; he hadn't wanted to. Her request seemed serenely delivered and she would one day be his spouse. Why not allow her to touch him?
T'Pol's fingers splayed over his chest as she examined it in detail, feeling the muscles and skin with the eagerness of a scientist. Her fingers wound around his arms, back and legs. His form was comely – not muscular nor without muscles.
"You are still sweating," she commented.
Her touch had caused him to perspire again. Something about her hands dancing over his body stirred him. His face flushed slightly as he barely asked, "And, are you warm?"
"Slightly," she responded. Perhaps he was also interested in mapping out the female body personally. She let her robe slither to the ground and slipped out of the gown underneath it.
Watching her nude body caused more than a slight reaction from him. He … felt … lust. The Kolinahr – the ritual he had participated in as a boy, and once again ten years ago, taught that self-control and logic were the foundations of Vulcan beliefs. And yet, viewing her body forced urges to squirm to the surface … urges he did not want to control.
His voice trembled slightly with inexperience. "Would you like to try the embrace that I showed you the last time I saw you?"
She raised her fingers and allowed his to touch hers. His breath failed him; her fingers created electricity. The feeling was fascinating to her, and passionate and wanton to him.
"Would you mind if I touched you, T'Pol?" he asked, his other hand close to her shoulder.
"No," she said, intrigued at the idea.
Two fingers skimmed down her neck and drifted toward her stomach.
"How does this feel to you?" he whispered.
"Enjoyable," she commented, blandly, noticing he shivered slightly.
She raised an eyebrow. His nervous fingers wandered to her breast and he released a small pant. Confusion knitted on her brow, wondering what had elicited that response. Noticing she hadn't stopped him, he decided to explore more of her. Something primitive – ancient – rumbled inside of him.
He whispered darkly, "You can touch more of me, if you want. I believe I would find it pleasurable."
She pondered the idea, but decided it was best to close this experiment. There would be other times. Undoubtedly she'd see him again … possibly in another ten years.
"It's not necessary, but thank you," she announced.
He swallowed deeply. "I have not experienced this emotion before."
She stepped into her gown and robe. "What is it?"
"A burning feeling – lust perhaps?" he asked.
"I have not experienced that yet. What does it feel like?"
"It feels … overpowering. Would you like me to show you? I might be able to cause you to feel it?"
"Perhaps next time."
"Mouse, I … enjoyed that feeling," he admitted. "It felt good." He paused, debating whether he should tell her what was on his mind. "Are you looking forward to Pon Farr?"
"No. Why would I look forward to insanity?" she asked.
"I don't know. But, I … look forward to it. I believe it would be highly satisfying with you." He gathered his clothes and shimmied into his gown, noting T'Pol was silent. "Did I embarrass you?"
"Of course not," she replied. "I hope when we are life mates that we will cherish each other as your parents do."
"I hope so as well," he replied, twirling his fingers in her hair, unexpectedly. "I am pleased at my match. My parents have chosen well."
T'Pol remained silent. Her own parents were ill matched, choosing to, for the most part, remain separate. She wanted a life where she would feel cherished and comforted. Koss was her selected spouse. However, she'd never felt anything other than friendship for him. Perhaps that would change over time. Maybe, he would stir lust within her and her body would tremble at his touch.
"Do you think lust is the basis of a successful bonding?" she asked.
"Seems duty, honor, respect, these are things Vulcans hold dear. But, I know my father is stirred by my mother, even after 80 years of marriage. I would like to feel that. Do you think it's important?"
"Not necessarily."
He commented darkly, "I would like you to feel lust for me. I find it intriguing when you are stirred by emotion. And, I would like you to enjoy my Pon Farr as well. I want it to be highly satisfying to both of us. My parents have indicated the madness is not without … pleasure."
"Fascinating," she commented.
"Friendship is important as well. And I gather by your response you are not moved for me as I am for you."
"Your assessment is correct," she agreed.
"We have time still," he noted.
The memory came grinding to a halt; even years later she found the conversation upsetting. As they two had touched each other, she had moved him, stirred him … and he hoped one day he would stir her. Unfortunately for him, it would never come to pass. Their finger stroke, albeit brief, was the strongest she'd ever felt for the man, but wasn't as deep as the one with Jonathan.
Sadness leaked from her voice, "Would you want a life mate, who always thinks of another? Jonathan will always be foremost in my thoughts."
"He does not deserve your caring," said Koss with a trace of anger in his voice.
"That is not for you to decide," she said. "And, you know nothing of our relationship together. He deserves more than what I can give him. He has saved my life countless times and turned his back on his own people to be with me. He cares for me with reckless abandon."
"I will always hear your voice," he said with sadness.
"I do not believe that to be the case. Our thoughts became clear to each only after you were close, distance-wise, to Enterprise. I did not hear your voice before."
"It seems you will counter everything I say," he said.
"Did you hear my voice before two days ago?" she asked.
"I could feel you burning in Pon Farr. I could hear your thoughts then. I felt honored you called to me," he said. She had projected wanton thoughts to him, urging him to her. The heat she'd radiated during that time was exhilarating -- her nakedness and passion. These were the things he'd wanted for all these years. The words she'd used to evoke a response in him were overwhelming and sumptuous. With his deceased wife, she'd met his needs in Pon Farr, but afterward, he was never moved.
And it was odd that T'Pol alone could spark the flame of lust.
"I could feel your thoughts during your Pon Farr," she said. "Although I was not stirred for you."
"I … wish I had been here to help with your mating. I believe you would now be my life mate," he said, wanting to touch her hair.
"There will be another for you," she said.
"I do not know. Even now, even hearing your thoughts about Archer, you stir me," he said. Somehow she seemed almost as wanton as in Pon Farr, but with the added control. He wondered if Archer could always move her thus.
Her eyes continued to stare at him, unblinking.
"Archer is a man who seemingly has … what humans call luck," he said, letting his eyes dance over her. T'Pol pitied him … and the emotion felt humiliating.
She replied, "I believe he knows that."
"After I cancel arbitration, perhaps we can be friends?" he said.
"Cancel arbitration?" she asked to clarify his thoughts.
"There is a certain logic in something you said. I would not want my wife to … crave another and pity me."
"Koss …" she began. "It is good of you to do this. Thank you. I would also like to be friends with you. I've always wanted that."
"Too bad only that," he replied, stroking her cheek. With that small gesture, he turned and headed out the door.
T'Pol felt relief. She decided to go back to Sickbay to let Phlox know he could cure her husband right away.
Chapter TwelveAs she reached Sickbay, Archer wasn't in his bed. After she looked around, he walked out of the bathroom, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Phlox gave him a series of hypospray injections, which eventually calmed him.
The doctor stepped back with satisfaction. "Excellent."
"The challenge has ended. Koss is currently withdrawing from arbitration," T'Pol announced, mostly to her husband.
"Ah, that's good news," replied Phlox.
"God, that's a relief," Archer replied, feeling a bit queasy still. He wanted to drag his wife into an embrace, but was wary to make any sudden moves. "What happened?"
"He retracted his challenge."
Archer crawled into bed carefully. "That mean you get to move back in with me?" he asked.
"Yes, but first, perhaps Dr. Phlox can give you the antidote now … since he made you ill," suggested T'Pol.
"Huh?" asked Archer.
Phlox crossed his arms across his body. "Well, I doubt there is one for what he's contracted."
T'Pol asked, "What has he contracted?"
"A pregnant wife."
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, as Archer furrowed his brows – both utterly stunned.
Phlox smiled creepily, "T'Pol, you're pregnant. It seems you are approximately three months into your gestation. I can give you a date, which may or … may not … surprise you. I believe you conceived the child on your wedding night."
More stunned, Archer's jaw unhinged. With a .9% chance, both had decided birth control was unnecessary. She'd been pregnant for three months?!
T'Pol asked, "I am with child?" She reached behind her for a chair and slowly sank into it.
"Congratulations!" cheered Phlox.
"There must be some error. The possibility that I would be able to conceive is remote. Extremely remote."
"We're going to have a baby," mumbled Archer to himself. He blinked away a few more tears of joy, "God, I can't believe it. I'm going to be a father!" Unsteady fingers found her shoulder as he gripped it much harder than he'd intended; he couldn't help dragging her into an embrace.
"I ran the pregnancy test and came up with the results … and double checked them. And, I noticed Captain Archer exhibiting signs associated with pregnancy – unusual emotional behavior, morning sickness, fainting …. Could it possibly be your … bond?"
"Yes," she whispered.
On Vulcan, it was customary for both parents to feel the affects of pregnancy – biologically, it gave the male a vested interest in the offspring. This meant that the entity … child … growing inside of her had already created a bond with its father. As she sorted through the last few days, she'd noticed her increased sexual appetite for the man. She also noticed she herself had felt more emotional. Perhaps rather than setting those feelings to the side, she'd been … passing them to her husband, amplifying his already apparent connection.
This irony was not lost on her. In fact, she and Archer had formed a perfect bond by its very definition. Unification indicated one spouse would feel exactly what the other did; her husband was able to do so easily. If they had gone to arbitration, they easily would've won.
What was possibly more ironic was that perhaps the sole reason she was able to hear Koss' voice was due to her child; her child's Vulcan telepathy may have added to her own. And so, if she wasn't pregnant, she may never have been able to discern Koss' thoughts. Although, she couldn't be certain … even if her instincts (what Jonathan referred to as "gut") told her it was true.
Phlox smiled, "I've haven't had a chance to study up on Vulcan gestation periods, but I believe it's one year and three months? I don't know how the human DNA will affect your child. But, I would guess your baby would be born anywhere from …."
She interrupted, still unable to fathom the news. "This is difficult to believe."
"But, it's true nonetheless. I think you and Captain Archer will make fine parents."
Archer embraced her again, placing his mouth on hers and musing, "We're parents."
"Aisha, parents?" thought T'Pol perplexed.
Archer's lips sloped up. "Isn't it amazing?"
"Unbelievable."
The captain was utterly overwhelmed – the situation with Koss was resolved, he'd found out mind-blowing news. His baby. Their baby. Their child. Half-Vulcan, half-human … they'd made something beautiful … something miraculous. He was going to be a father!
"I don't want to frighten you, but conception might be the easiest part of this process. If your child's physiology is iron-based, you may not be able to carry to term. I haven't been able to collect that information. I'd like to run a few more tests possibly tomorrow."
"Of course," she said to herself with disbelief.
"I'd also like to start you on a regiment of vitamins. If your child does indeed have red blood, you'll probably need additional proteins … something replicating meat …."
T'Pol turned her head and covered her mouth; thinking about animal parts. For the first time, she felt sick to her stomach. Instead of running to the bathroom, she breathed through the spell. Her husband also felt the same surge, but felt overpowered by it. He sprinted to the bathroom.
As Phlox listened to his patient ralph, he suggested, "T'Pol, it may be a good idea to occasionally let that feeling overtake you. Humans are far less experienced with controlling emotions and … other bodily functions."
The two could hear Archer yak again.
"Perhaps you are correct. I am surprised the pregnancy has affected him so distinctly," she mused, allowing herself to become more nauseated.
Archer stopped barfing and breathed deeply. This was all so amazing. Everything. Koss, the baby, feeling her pregnancy – he knew he was more prone to emotion than normal, but really felt overjoyed. The baby! He was going to be a father!
The news was completely and utterly unexpected. He was 42 years old and was about to have a baby. Actually, he'd be 43 when his wife delivered from the sound of things – a year and three months. Somehow, it seemed a year was right around the corner.
Despite his condition, he grabbed his wife, startling her, and kissed her several times, sloppily. Under normal circumstances she would turn away – still able to smell his bile – but decided not to spoil the mood. Instead, she held her breath as he delivered each tiny embrace. He released her and dragged Dr. Phlox into a hug. He didn't even mind the doctor's ridges touching his face.
Phlox squirmed away, "Really!"
Archer tousled the doctor's hair. "Now, cut that out!" exclaimed Phlox, smoothing his hair back.
Archer sighed and let the feeling wash over him.
"I suppose you can be released," the doctor suggested to the beaming human.
For as awful as Jon felt, he simultaneously felt absolutely wonderful. He hopped out of bed with vigor, changed into his uniform and walked with his arm around his wife's shoulder. He beamed – his baby. T'Pol meanwhile was completely flushed and overwhelmed.
As the two entered their abode, T'Pol's mouth found his. As his hand wandered around her belly, he felt secure, safe, serene and warm.
Their child. His wife. The two wrapped their arms around each other and talked about the future, including agreeing not to tell their shipmates, Starfleet or nearly anyone else. Nearly anyone.
Chapter FourteenT'Pol had lunch with Koss. She found it difficult to admit after all this turmoil he had caused, it was difficult to see him go, mainly because his visit was also connected to good news and the kindling of old friendships. She walked Koss to the airlock.
"Your parents, they are in good health?" she asked.
"Yes, I told them I was collecting your body on behalf of your family, after Pon Farr. They were … distressed on hearing the news that you would die, or had perished already."
She nodded. "That is good of them, particularly since I shamed you and them." She took a small breath. "You have never spoken of the fact I shamed you," she said.
"Shame is an emotion. Besides, why dwell on the past?" he asked. "I was … relieved … to see you alive. Although I felt something I did not expect when you seeing you with Archer."
"Jealousy. I have felt it myself. It is a darker and somewhat uncontrolled emotion."
"I do not like that emotion."
She remained silent. "Nor do I."
"You allow these human feelings to bombard you everyday, and in close proximity," he pointed out. "How do you do it?"
"I've grown accustomed to them and somewhat … enjoy the bombardment. It is only the darker emotions that … disturb me: fear, hatred …." She paused. "However, I feel those so rarely."
"Fascinating," he said. He let his eyes dance over her in silence. "I assume your family is aware of your marriage?"
"Yes," she said. "You might imagine their reaction."
Something in his eyes smiled. "I believe your cousin T'Ler would be … pleased."
She seemed amused, but her face was stoic. "Yes, she wrote to me immediately."
"And his family?" asked Koss.
"He has none. His parents are both deceased and he has no siblings. His extended family is fragmented."
"Ah, you have chosen a path of isolation," he remarked.
"Not entirely. I have recently discovered some … surprising news," she said.
"Do tell," he said as they neared the airlock.
"I am with child," she responded.
Shock forced his eyebrow up, but it was the only outward sign that something was wrong. "This news is surprising, but I am certain it is welcome. Well, then congratulations to you. You will be a good and decent mother."
She spoke softly, "I do not wish for others to know. There is a large chance I will not …."
"But, it seems you and he … what did he say, 'work well with small chances,'" said Koss.
She decided to change the subject. "Speaking of T'Ler, her bond mate perished recently as well."
Koss raised his eyebrow, "Farin?" He bowed his head. "I grieve for her."
T'Pol nodded, "I believe my family is looking for another match. An aesthetically appealing architect familiar with my family would be advantageous."
He raised both eyebrows, "Aesthetically appealing? Interesting that you would say so."
"I could speak with my family," suggested T'Pol.
"Perhaps. But, not now. I believe I need time to reflect."
He took a long breath and formed his hand into a "v," the sign of IDIC. "This is good bye, then. Live long and prosper T'Pol of Vulcan. And, please give Archer my regards."
"Peace and long life, Koss," she returned. She returned his gesture.
He entered the docking area, and turned back once more to look at T'Pol. Then he vanished.
Chapter FifteenArcher awoke, dreaming of flying a model ship. He'd placed a reassuring arm around his child … his daughter … and explained about their grandfather and the warp program. Of course, she'd raised a wary eyebrow at him and had recited how illogical it was to reminisce. He didn't mind her little raised eyebrow; it was amusing.
The best part was – they weren't really dreams, it was reality. He would one day teach his child how to fly a model ship.
T'Pol gathered a few of Archer's thoughts and opened her eyes. "We don't know the sex of our baby, and he or she has not been born yet."
Archer grinned, fully opening his eyes. "I'm betting girl."
"I believe it's a boy," she said, giving him a taste of her humor.
"In a few weeks, we might be able to find out."
"It's unusual that I have not been as connected with our child as … you have," she whispered.
He stroked her cheek and cooed, "Does that upset you?"
Her mind was already forming the phrase about Vulcans and emotions when she said, "Perhaps."
Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over her. She jumped up and ran unceremoniously to the bathroom. As she threw up, Archer himself felt a little queasy, but was able to hold it down. He snuggled against his pillow – ah the joys of pregnancy. As he heard his wife gag, he thought about her slightly swelling breasts and felt … frisky. It seemed both human and Vulcan pregnancies included increased sexual appetite. Apparently in another month or more that would change drastically; best to milk it for all it was worth … so to speak.
After T'Pol emptied her stomach, she brushed her teeth and came back to bed.
"Maybe you are feeling more connected," he mentioned, kissing her neck.
Still recovering from nausea, she warned, "Jonathan, please."
"Please what?" he whispered in her ear, biting softly on the point. "I wonder if our child will have pointed ears."
"You have work this morning," she announced.
"Yeah, well, my watch says we have two hours before our shift," he replied, remaining undeterred.
"Then perhaps you have enough time to retrieve breakfast for the two of us?" she asked.
"Three," he corrected, bending over to kiss her stomach. "All right. What can I get you?"
"Your smell is somewhat …." She jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom again.
He followed her in and wet a washrag.
"Nausea is not a symptom of pregnancy," she said.
"It is for humans," he whispered, handing her a rag. He himself felt a little queasy again.
"Your smell," she warned.
He furrowed his eyebrows while smiling. "Well, maybe Phlox can give you a stronger nasal inhibitor."
She nodded, "Perhaps." She looked like she was going to be ill again, until he backed up and walked out of the bathroom.
He called to her. "I'll get one for you and some breakfast. I'll be right back." He frowned and weakly began walking out the door.
"Jonathan," she called out.
He stopped. "Yes?"
"I cherish thee." He heard before she emptied her stomach again.
'I love you, too,' he thought, amused.
"Jonathan?"
He stopped at the door. "Yes, dear?"
"For breakfast, I'd like fruit."
"I suppose you want tea, too?" he asked.
"Since you will be out. That is, if you don't mind."
"Okay," he said.
"Aisha?" called out T'Pol.
He slumped his head against his chest, "Yes?"
"Please take Porthos with you until I have the … stronger … nasal inhibitor," she said. "The smell is …," he heard her throw up again. He looked down at the ground. "Never get married, boy." With that, he quickly left hoping she wouldn't find something else for him to do.
Deep within him he felt gratified. He twirled the ring around his finger and said, "My family."