Chapter 2

"You're clear for docking." Travis's familiar voice announced over the com link. "Welcome home, Sub-Commander."
"Thank you, Ensign." T'Pol replied, commencing the docking procedure. She heard the familiar click of the docking clamps and waited for the airlock to repressurize. It was good to be back.

"Ah! Sub-Commander! It's good to see you again!" exclaimed Phlox as she entered sick-bay. He was, of course, in a cheerful mood.
She stood with her hands behind her back and waited patiently while he finished feeding his menagerie of squawking, chirping, and growling creatures. "I trust you found your stay on Vulcan pleasant?"
"Indeed." She glanced around the room, taking in its familiarity.
"I received the results of Dr. Yuris's tests just a moment ago. He thinks the new treatment is very promising. He did, however, ask me to double check his assessment of your condition. Please, have a seat." Phlox motioned towards a biobed, which T'Pol obediently perched on. He withdrew his hand scanner and began his scans.
"Any dizziness? Headaches?"
"None." In fact, she felt quite healthy at the moment. Healthier than she'd felt since she first contracted the Pa'nar Syndrome.
He closed the hand scanner and smiled at her warmly. "I can't find a thing wrong! Your brain waves are on normal frequencies, the synaptic pathways appear to be in a much better state than your previous scans. I believe this is quite the medical breakthrough!"
"Thank you, Doctor." She replied.
"You may go now. Oh! And welcome aboard! And may I be the first to wish you a very happy birthday." He grinned a little too knowingly. T'Pol looked at him, suspicion forming in her mind.
"You seem to be hiding something." She assessed. "Commander Tucker hasn't taken advantage of that knowledge, has he?"
"Well, no...not to my knowledge..." He lied, still hiding it with a smile. "He knows Vulcans don't celebrate birthdays. I doubt he would even try."
"I see. Now if you'll excuse me..."
"Ah ! Ah! Not so fast! You are to report to your quarters immediately. You're not to go on duty until tomorrow. Doctor's orders."
T'Pol gave him a look that bordered on an expression of exasperation. "As you wish." She exited sickbay and headed towards her quarters, intending to get in some much needed meditation.
Phlox quickly pulled a fresh supply of streamers out of his drawer and headed in the same direction by another route.

Earlier that day...

"Are you sure we're allowed to do this?" Malcolm asked, clutching the bag of gaudy decorations tightly in his hand.
"You're the security officer. You tell me." Trip replied, still with a goofy grin plastered on his face as he over-rode the security lock on the unsuspecting Sub-Commander's door. The lock clicked open and the door slid open. Her scent wafted from the room to greet him. He'd missed that smell for nearly two weeks now. "C'mon! We don't have that much time!"
Malcolm grudgingly followed him into T'Pol's immaculate quarters. Everything was orderly and normal, candles and meditation pillows in the corner looked very neglected. "That's soon to change..." Trip thought happily. T'Pol was staying on-board Enterprise. That was enough to keep him happy for a long time.
"You start blowing up balloons while I hang streamers. Did you talk to chef about that cake?"
"Yes, for the fourth time!"
"Just making sure."
"Four times?"
"Ya never know!"

Two hours later, Sub-Commander T'Pol's quarters were strung top to bottom with colorful streamers, sprinkled with confetti, and hung with balloons. Chef had just finished delivering the rest of the food when the com beeped. "Phlox to Commander Tucker."
Trip strode over to the panel and hit the button. "Go ahead, Doc."
"The Sub-Commander is aboard. I advise you to finish whatever you're doing as soon as possible. I won't be able to hold her here long!"
"Thanks a million, Doc! We're ready! Tucker out." He turned around to the rest of the party participants, which included a great deal of the senior staff and crew. "Places!"

When T'Pol reached to door of her quarters, she was aware that something was not quite right. She attempted to key in her unlocking code, but her door was already unlocked. Yes, something was definitely out of place. She allowed the door to slide open, ready to enter with utmost caution in case of a violent intruder. However, she was most definitely not prepared for the blast of party horns, throwing of confetti, and loud chorus of "Surprise!" that ensued instead.
Trip wished he had a camera. The look on her face was absolutely priceless. Her cheeks flushed an unmistakable shade of green and her brown eyes were nearly as big as saucer sections, he observed. She looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere and hide. He snuck over by her side as the party-goers lapsed into a chorus of "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow".
"It's just a birthday party, T'Pol. It won't hurt ya." He whispered very close to her ear.
T'Pol didn't notice his approach and, as Trip would say, jumped ten feet in the air when she felt his warm breath tickling her ear. "I assumed you were behind this." She said with raised eyebrows as soon as she regained composure again. "Jon say's he's sorry he couldn't come. He's finishing up the official stuff with Admiral Forest, but he sends his warmest birthday greetings."
"That is understandable."
Trip laughed and handed her a slice of chocolate cake. "So! How does it feel to be the big six-six?" He asked, decisively placing and arm around her shoulders.
"I feel no different than I did yesterday." She replied, trying to maintain control. His unexpected gesture caught her completely off guard. Still, she made no attempt to shrug his arm off or move away from him, which was what startled Trip.
Trip laughed again. He'd never seen her this flustered before. She looked absolutely beautiful.
"I fail to see the humor in my response..."
Trip just shook his head. He squeezed her shoulders gently. "It's good to have you back, T'Pol." He sighed and they looked at each other for a moment, each trying to read the other. "Happy birthday, darlin'." He said, removing his arm from her shoulders. He gave her a gentle push into the crowd. "Now go on! Mingle! Have fun!" He said with a laugh.
T'Pol didn't have a chance to object when she was swiftly approached by Hoshi. "Welcome back, Sub-Commander!" She exclaimed. "I had no idea it was your birthday until Trip invited me to come about an hour ago. Sorry for the absence of a present...Anyway—"
But T'Pol's attention was diverted as she was hit by a wave of dizziness. She closed her eyes and allowed her equilibrium to readjust. When she opened them again, she was looking down at the piece of cake on the plate she was still holding; the yellow piece of cake she was holding.
"Sub-Commander? Sub-Commander!"
"T'Pol's eyes snapped back up to look at the Ensign intently.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" She asked, concern etching the features of her face.
"A moment ago, this cake was chocolate..." T'Pol stared at the cake again in utter bewilderment.
"Huh...I wish!" Hoshi smiled. "Happy Birthday, ma'am." Hoshi drifted off into the crowd again, leaving T'Pol staring at her cake. This was illogical. There must be some residual effects from the treatment, she thought. She made a mental note to visit sickbay after this was said and done.
"Hey, I forgot to give you this." She snapped back to the present again to find Trip holding out a piece of paper to her. "I picked this up from my nephew back on Earth. I thought you might like it."
T'Pol took the piece of paper and unfolded it, revealing a crude drawing of a green-faced Vulcan, holding it's hand up in the traditional Vulcan greeting.
"Kinda resembles you, dontcha think?"
He was answered with the delicate arc of an eyebrow.
"I'll...uh...just put it up over here..." He said, attempting to escape what might have been what Malcolm described as 'Vulcan Wrath'.
"Welcome aboard again, T'Pol!" She turned around to face the Captain, which was the last person she expected to see.
"Commander Tucker informed me that you wouldn't be attending this function."
"What do you mean? I've been here the whole time." Archer looked a bit confused, as did T'Pol.
"There must have been some misunderstanding." He smiled. In a lower voice he asked, "How did the treatment go?"
"I responded very well. Dr. Phlox and Dr. Yuris suspect this is a scientific and medical breakthrough." She said, her voice equally diminished.
"Well, that's good news!"
"Indeed..." she sighed. Her head was pounding. "I believe it is."

"Some party..." Trip picked up another plate of cake and tossed it in the nearly full garbage bag. After the party was over, everyone had deserted the place to get to their duty stations or their quarters. Trip had stayed behind to help her get the place whipped back into shape along her particular Vulcan guidelines.
"Eventful." T'Pol jerked another set of streamers from the ceiling.
"You shoulda seen that look on your face when you came in." He remembered with a smile. "Looked half scared to death."
"I don't believe I was near a point of expiration." Reasoned T'Pol.
"Another expression, darlin'. Just another stupid expression."
"I don't believe I'll ever fully understand the Human need to use colorful metaphors..."
"I don't think we do ourselves!" He shoved the last of the trash in the garbage bag and T'Pol climbed down from the stepladder she'd been using to remove decorations from the ceiling.
"I think that about covers it." He sighed, sitting down on the bunk beside T'Pol. "Oh! I almost forgot!" He reached beside the bed and pulled out a white gift bag and handed it to T'Pol. She looked at him quizzically, as if needing further instruction. "Go ahead! Open it!" He urged.
She gently pulled the tissue paper out of the top and extracted three new meditation candles.
"Picked 'em up for you at the Vulcan Compound while I was on Earth. I thought you might need them eventually." He explained, gesturing to her nearly expired candles with his eyes.
"Thank you, Commander. I'm sure these will be of service."
"'Commander'," he thought, "Back to square one..."
"Well, I should be heading back to my quarters. I've got an early duty shift in the morning." He stood up, as did she. "Happy 66th, T'Pol. Oh, and don't worry. I didn't tell anyone your age." T'Pol felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but she suppressed it until Commander Tucker had exited and the doors had swooshed shut behind him.
Sitting again, she turned one of the candles over in her hand. Surreptitiously, one corner of her mouth twitched slightly upwards. Not stopping to assess the illogic of the action, she whispered to him. "Thank you, Trip."

TO BE CONTINUED