Trip hadn't thought too much about how their 'morning after' would be, but as he accidentally rolled out of the bed reaching for the alarm clock (which was much further away than he was used to), he realized that letting spontaneity control their awakening was more interesting than anything he could have rehearsed.
T'Pol peeked over the edge of the bed looking thoroughly exhausted, until one angular eyebrow raised in silent and disguised mirth. He rolled his eyes as he crawled back into bed beside her, smiling like an idiot when she drew him into her arms.
"Mornin'," he whispered before brushing his lips against hers in a gentle hello. T'Pol suppressed a sigh of contentment as he held her as close to his body as possible.
"Good morning," she replied, threading her fingers through his hair. He chuckled and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her neck. She wriggled slightly in his grasp as she felt her body responding to his. Roaming hands squeezed her buttocks, pulling her tightly against him. This could become a lovely habit, she thought briefly as she allowed herself to temporarily indulge in his adoration. But her alarm had rung, and it was time to start her morning routine.
"We have to go to the briefing," she told him amid moans and gasps.
"They won't miss us," he replied, but she pushed him away.
Rising from the bed, she levelled him with one of her patented I-mean-business looks, and explained, "Though it is not inappropriate for officers of the same rank to fraternize romantically, it would be considered irresponsible for them to neglect their duties in order to indulge in their relationship."
Trip shook his head. "You always have to rationalize every- …wait, relationship?" A boyish grin spread across his features. "You mean it?"
T'Pol found herself on the verge of smiling as hope danced in his eyes, all caused by a single word passing her lips. "That is what humans call this, is it not?"
"Well," he drawled, dragging himself from the bed and into her personal space which, he noticed, she wasn't moving to increase, "that depends on what 'this' is."
Uncertainty clouded her mind for a moment before stating, "You are seeking clarification."
"Um, yeah?"
She pulled away from him and crossed the room, grabbing her bathrobe on the way. Trip ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He'd blown it - they had made a connection, she had all but admitted that experimentation was just a convenient smokescreen, and now he had pushed her too far, possibly beyond saving -
Water began running in the shower, and T'Pol appeared in the bathroom doorway, a stack of clothes in hand. "I believe it is human custom to begin keeping necessities in each other's cabins." She held the neatly piled items out to him. "Is that enough clarification, Charles?"
Captain Jonathan Archer looked up as the turbolift opened onto the bridge, admitting crewmen for their morning shifts. His chief engineer stepped off the 'lift, whistling an old Ivy League tune. Archer glanced at his watch - fifteen minutes to oh-seven-hundred, and Trip was in a good mood?
Since entering the Expanse, Archer had decided that having staff briefings every morning would help solidify the team and allow them to focus their energy productively on a day-to-day basis. However, in the several months since this ritual had begun, the captain had never seen any of his crew look as chipper as Trip looked today.
Archer greeted his best friend with a smile and a nod, which was returned enthusiastically. As Trip took his place standing at the strategy board, T'Pol arrived behind him, the communications officer fast on her heels.
Hoshi Sato kept stealing glances at Trip and T'Pol as the four bridge officers engaged in small talk. Archer couldn't help but notice the grin that persisted on her face, or the healthy glow of T'Pol's skin, or Trip's relaxed and thoroughly rested attitude and posture.
By the time Reed, Mayweather and Sergeant Hayes arrived, Jonathan Archer was a very confused Captain.
As the crew began their shifts, Archer made up an excuse to see Trip in his ready room. Something about the warp core should get him interested, he thought to himself.
"…I checked those readings myself, Cap'n - there was nothing wrong with the intake manifolds, the plasma relays or the field harmonics!"
"Relax, Commander," Jon admonished and gestured for his chief engineer to take a seat. Tucker plopped down in a chair and glared at him with a mixture of anger, confusion and petulance.
"There's nothing wrong with the warp core," Archer explained, secretly enjoying the scandalized look Trip gave him. "In fact, I hear it's above factory levels."
Trip puffed himself up a bit. "Damn straight! Hess and I've been working our team like dogs - uh, no offence to Porthos, of course."
The captain's dog looked up briefly from his comfortable spot near Jon's feet before settling into his nap once more. "Don't work them too hard, Commander," he suggested while scratching behind Porthos' ears, "or they'll sleep alllll day."
Trip's familiar chuckle, long in disuse, reminded Archer why he had tricked him to his ready room in the first place.
"Trip, we're friends, right?"
The Southern man gave him a queer look. "Best of."
The captain stood from his chair and began pacing the room. Trip shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he waited would probably be a long-winded, though heartfelt, lecture.
"To be honest, I've been worried about you." Huh?
"Huh?"
Archer began gesturing emphatically. "You've been working double, even triple shifts, you've been skipping dinner with T'Pol and myself in the Captain's Mess, you've arrived at briefings haggard, exhausted, and sometimes, even wearing yesterday's clothes."
Trip winced at the accurate, if disturbing, portrayal of his most recent bouts of insomnia. "But Cap'n -"
"And then today…" Archer returned to his seat, the agitation having ranted itself out. "Today, you look almost…radiant."
He noticed Trip's eyebrow raised in unconscious imitation of the resident Vulcan, and Archer decided to open this can of worms as gently as possible.
"And considering we're best friends…if there was something important going on in your life, you'd tell me?"
The shy duck of Trip's head and the unbidden smile that creased his gentle features told
Archer all he needed to know.
"Okay," he asked, as he settled forward in his seat, a posture Trip recognized from their Starfleet days as the 'secret-telling' one, "who is she?"
"No," Trip said, "I can't tell you."
Now it was Jon's turn to look scandalized. "But you just said -!"
"It's not up to just me, ya know." He rose from his chair. "I'm not even positive what it is I'm so excited about."
Trip crossed the room and paused just before opening the door. "All I can tell you, Jon, is that she's keeping some clothes in my cabin."
After his best friend had left for engineering, Archer lifted a sleepy Porthos into his lap. He had a hunch which woman it was that had stolen Trip's heart, but for her to reciprocate those feelings…this would undoubtedly plague him all day if he didn't know all the details, now.
He needed to question the most social member of the crew, someone who T'Pol had been known to confide in, someone who seemed to already know the whole story and wouldn't be shy about telling it - the captain activated his communication system. "Hoshi, can I see you in my ready room?"
THE END - except for the epilogue…