Two days later, Archer returned to the bridge.
"Welcome back, Captain," Hoshi said.
"Thank you," he replied as he sat in his chair. "Status?"
"We completed our survey and returned to our search pattern of the Expanse," T'Pol said.
"And?"
"We have enough data to occupy the science department for some time."
"Good. Ensign Mayweather, continue on course. I'll be in my ready room catching up. Sub-commander, you have the bridge," Archer gave orders as he headed for the ready room.
He spent the rest of the day catching up on the reports. He was heartened to see that his crew was able to continue their work efficiently in his absence. A crew should never depend on one person too much, he reflected.
Yet he knew that he had not yet dealt with all the fallout from the adventure. Resolutely, he deactivated his viewscreen and left the ready room.
Jordan had retreated to her quarters to finish her analysis. She was engrossed in her work, analyzing the genetic structure of the neurotoxin when the door chime interrupted her. "Come in," she called. The door opened behind her. "Just set the report down, thanks, I'll look at it later," she said without turning.
"I didn't bring a report."
"Jonathan!" she exclaimed in surprise, standing to face him. "I didn't know it was you."
"I thought I'd drop in. See how your work was coming."
"Fine," she replied. "I was just analyzing the neurotoxin that infected you. Nasty little compound."
"I can vouch for that."
"Yes."
Conversation stopped and an awkward silence filled the cabin. Archer cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, I just came by to thank you," he said.
"Just doing my job. After all, it'd cost Star Fleet a lot to replace you," Jordan retreated into the familiar defense of humor.
"Thanks," he said wryly, then he sobered abruptly. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that incident in sickbay."
"Please don't, Jonathan," she interrupted. "You have nothing to explain."
"No, I'd like to. I don't really remember all that happened, but if I offended you in any way, I'm sorry."
"I'm not sure what you think may have happened."
"But what about?" he began, then broke off. He studied her face for a long moment.
"What about what?"
"But didn't I?" He stopped, confused by her blank expression. "It was nothing, I guess. Forget I said anything." He straightened, formality now coloring his tone. "Good night, Doctor."
"Good night," she replied as he left the room. The door swished closed behind him. "My love," she murmured to the closed door. Then, with a heavy sigh, she turned back to her terminal.
The End
Coming soon: "What Memory Remembers", part three of the triology.