Time Alone
Chapter 18The doorbell chimed and Archer stepped over to it, sliding the door back and giving a large grin.
"Hey," he said to T'Pol.
The Vulcan looked weary. Illogically, she'd decided to say goodnight to him and very possibly be cheered up, although she'd never admit it. The discussion with Lorian had been taxing -- draining some of her already weakened emotional reserves and for once she sought his company merely because she found it pleasurable.
Elyssa eyed the woman, deciding against running to her and continued to play as Henry glanced up, frowned and then concentrated on his game. Surveying his kids, Jonathan stepped toward T'Pol, and into the hallway. They may have less privacy, but he felt it'd be inappropriate to take her into his bedroom, where they'd have more. It would give his children the wrong idea, especially because of the conversation he'd just had with them.
"How'd things go with Lorian?" he asked.
"Not well, but I believe he'll change his mind in time. Your children?"
"Okay. I think Henry's hurt. Elyssa doesn't really remember Esilia and you already know my daughter thinks the world of you."
With a little more charm, and a smug grin, he added, "Almost as much as her father."
T'Pol glanced down the corridor, and noticing it was completely empty, risked a small kiss with him, which he eagerly accepted and returned.
Hearing Archer mention Esilia's name made her think about the time she first met the Ikarran and realized the captain was headed into a relationship with her.
The Vulcan wandered the halls of her ship and waited patiently at the receiving airlock of the Ikarran vessel. Captain Archer indicated he'd meet her for breakfast to discuss the supply agreement he and the Ikarrans came to. When he hadn't shown, she'd checked his quarters, the gym and every place else she could think of with a mix of trepidation and concern – it eventually lead her to the alien ship. Although she doubted the man was kidnapped – something that seemed to happen often to him before entering the Expanse – she didn't rule it out. It was unlike him not to contact her and he was never this late.
The Ikarran captain greeted her at the portal where his ship and Enterprise joined.
"You think Captain Archer is here?"
"He's currently not aboard Enterprise …."
A small smile overtook the Ikarran's face, and he explained his daughter had a date with the captain only last night. Perhaps they were still there.
T'Pol raised one eyebrow. In all the years she'd known the captain, she'd never known about his sex life … in fact, she'd noticed there was a significant lack of it. As if to make the moment more awkward, she spied Archer walking down the hall of the alien vessel in the same clothes she'd seen him in yesterday. He stopped in his tracks, as the Ikarran captain stated the obvious.
"I see you've found him."
Archer's gaze shifted from the captain to T'Pol. His faced reddened and his hand nervously scratched at the back of his neck. The captain and his first officer walked back onto their ship and stalked down the halls – his pace quickened and hers struggled to keep up.
T'Pol said, "I didn't mean to impose. I was concerned something had happened to you. You've never been late for a meeting and … you weren't on Enterprise …."
He nodded and said, "It's okay. Can I meet you for breakfast in about thirty minutes?"
Unwilling to leave his side, she continued walking the halls with him. Without commenting on his request, she decided to investigate further into his personal life.
"Did you have a nice time?" she asked.
A sheepish grin overtook his face and he explained, "I guess you could say that."
"Will I have to wait for Trip to tell me more information?" she asked.
Archer came to an abrupt halt and gazed at his first officer. The Vulcan watched various emotions flitter to the surface – many of which were difficult to determine. On the verge of asking more about it, she viewed him sweep those emotions away and a grin smacked itself on his face.
"I never kiss and tell," he said, turning to walk into his room. The door shut and she stared after it for a moment, reflecting.
T'Pol was able to judge Archer's emotions with some degree of success. After all, the two had depended on each other for years. She made it a habit of studying his expressions; it was easy – the man's face was expressive. Deep in thought, angry, sad, confused, mischievous … she knew them all. So, she was perplexed to see something akin to betrayal visit his features.
For a second, a fleeting instant, T'Pol wondered whether Jonathan felt guilty about sleeping with a woman. That didn't make sense; it wasn't logical. He was a single man who obviously had … needs. She thought back to his features, the lowered lids and averted eyes and confirmed – his look was 'betrayal.'
'Who was he betraying?' she asked herself. And for less than a nanosecond, she wondered if Jonathan loved her.
'Of course not,' she thought to herself. But, she couldn't help feeling a smidgen of jealousy for the woman he was involved with. It was strange having a woman enter his life. T'Pol didn't feel romantically inclined toward him, but wondered whether their camaraderie and closeness would suffer if he became involved with someone.
At times, her husband would claim she was married to two men: himself and Jonathan. After all, he would assert, she and the captain explored planets together, held meetings on a daily basis that would last for hours (spending more time together than a married couple) and seemed to have a way of communicating that transcended language. But, Trip always suggested this teasingly – he wasn't jealous; he was simply dumbstruck at the closeness between the two. Thankfully, he accepted that years ago, before they were ever wed.
Trip was right. The captain was her best friend and it was difficult to imagine a woman interfering with the unromantic intimacy she'd enjoyed with him.
'If it isn't this woman, it'll be another,' she thought, continuing her walk down the corridor to the Captain's Mess.
It was evident her friend had been lonely – as if he needed the romantic distraction to carry him through the day. In fact, it'd come up as a topic for dinner conversation between her and Trip many times before. Trip would bemoan Jonathan's bachelorhood and discuss how good he was with Lorian. Her husband was determined to see his buddy content, and he was certain that meant married and with children.
She strolled into the dining room and sipped a glass of water, continuing to muse on the situation. When he entered, she couldn't get over how relaxed and eager he seemed to start his day, as well as a bit unfocused. After an hour-long conversation with him, she'd noted his concentration was nearly shot and then she realized his eyes held purple circles underneath them, as she'd seen him sport many times while in the Expanse.
After saying the same thing for the third time, Archer held a hand out to stop her.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"You seem tired," she said innocently.
Dodging her eyes, he said, "I am."
"Do you like her?" she asked.
The man furrowed his brow and pondered the question. "I guess I do."
It was an unexpected answer to a wholly inappropriate question, maybe even for a friend, certainly for a Vulcan. With a slight nod, she continued on with the conversation and agreed to carry out a few orders and begin working on the supply list. After Archer filed out, she decided something needed to happen right away – she had to stop by Engineering.
Meandering into the engine room, she spotted her husband and made a beeline for him.
"Hey, darlin', what's up?" Trip asked, grabbing a spanner and tightening a relay.
Typical for him during the workday, he wore a smear of grease on his cheek, ruffled hair, a soiled shirt and an enormous white smile.
"Jonathan was late for his meeting with me this morning."
"Very interesting," he said, meaning it wasn't. His eyes kept focused ahead. "Hand me that calibrator, will ya?"
T'Pol complied and provided a trickle of information. "Do you want to hear why?"
With only mild annoyance, he sighed. "This can't wait until tonight?"
"No, because I'd like to discuss an order with you."
Reluctantly, he focused his attention on her, staring into her large olive-colored eyes. "Okay, sugar. What seems to be the problem?"
"Jonathan had a date last night," T'Pol explained.
A grin invaded the man's face. "He did?"
"Apparently, the date was not over until this morning."
"Son of a gun," Trip murmured, shaking his head. "You meet her?"
"No." T'Pol paused. "I noticed in your last report, you suggested taking the intake manifolds offline during the next month?"
The man wrapped his lips around hers and let go, giving her a slight pat on the butt. "We'd be dead in space for about a week."
"Indeed," she responded.
"I like the way you think," he said.
With that, she let her lips twitch into her version of a smile (which meant her face barely tugged at the corners), while blinking carefully. The two discussed some of the details as engineer and first officer, but ended their meeting with another peck on the lips.
T'Pol made her way back to the Bridge and sat at her station without further comment. As Archer reviewed the console at his chair, he noticed some new information crossing the screen – important information. Enterprise was going to take the engines offline, putting them a week behind schedule. As soon as the news scrolled across his small screen, he looked up at T'Pol with bewilderment. Although she had a lot more autonomy, this would typically be a decision she discussed with him before commanding this order.
"May I see you in the Ready Room?" she asked, watching his eyebrows furrow.
"I was just about to ask you that same question," he replied, sharply.
As the two climbed into his small office, T'Pol began reeling off the reasons for her decisions – all perfectly logical.
"Captain, it appears we have met an ally in the Ikarrans. They are technologically superior to us. Perhaps it would be worth our while to stay docked with them and get more information about this … said technology."
She remembered him staring at her waiting for more information. "For example, the navigational equipment they have aboard their ship is …."
"What's going on?" he asked, perching himself on the edge of his desk.
Her eyes widened. "Exactly what I said. We've found an ally …."
He interrupted her. "How long have we known each other?"
Uncertain of the question, she raised an eyebrow. "Approximately seven years."
"Don't you think you can tell me what's really going on?"
Her lip quivered by mere centimeters as she thought through her response. It was plain to everyone the captain needed company … well, everyone save him.
Deciding whether to be truthful, she threw caution to the wind.
"Captain, I don't mean to be crude, but this date last night … I would gather it's the first you had in some time."
He guffawed as she continued.
"I don't want to be disrespectful, but you seemed … content this morning – more so than possibly at any time since we've entered the Expanse. I, as your friend, would like to see you … satisfied with your life. I would like to see you have children and raise them, because I think you would be a good and decent father, as well as have your children add to … pardon my bluntness … add to our gene pool. I would be honored knowing my children had a possibility of becoming intimate with yours."
His eyebrows furrowed. "Don't you think you're rushing me a little? I just met her."
"I'm providing you an opportunity to … know her better."
He sighed and gave an odd smile. "All right. I just wished you'd cleared it with me."
"But, I knew you wouldn't agree."
"You're right. I probably wouldn't have."
Feeling like she had the upper hand, and his agreement, she headed toward the door as she heard him speak again, in a husky voice, the one he sometimes reserved for only her.
"Your idea or Trip's?"
"Mine," she answered back.
With her back still to him and her finger against the door, he spoke again.
"Thanks. Maybe you could meet her. Your opinion means a lot to me."
Uncharacteristically, she threw over her shoulder something that sounded very human: "What's not to like? She likes you, doesn't she?"
With that, she quickly left. What she said was 100% correct. If she'd been human, she would've given a wry smile. Feeling good about the decision she'd made, she sat contently at her station and pulled up some schematics.
As she recalled this, she felt his lips pressed against hers. Crewman Mary Rogers, from the armory, passed by – giving the two an interested glance. So, T'Pol reminded Jonathan he was captain.
He quipped, "Good, that means I can keep this up as long as I want to."
And so he could. She grabbed the lapels of his shirt and drew him a little closer to her mouth before their lips parted.
In a low voice he said, "Maybe we can see if Phlox and Hoshi can watch our children on Wednesday."
Feeling like she belonged solely to him, she nodded against his mouth, as she met it with her lips for the last time that evening.
Chapter 19As two days crept slowly by, he assured his kids they would be staying at a different location than Lorian; it'd be easier on everyone. Henry and Elyssa would be staying with Phlox and Amanda, leaving Toru and Lorian together. The two boys got along extremely well and two more children to look after suited Phlox just fine.
As Archer dropped Henry and Elyssa off, he looked on with horror as the kids ran rampant around the small room, giggling, throwing pillows and yelling. Wild haired and devil-eyed, Phlox scampered after them trying to urge a modicum amount of control. It was amazing those children had enough room to run – the Phlox quarters were cramped; Enterprise's engineers couldn't keep expanding the room to accommodate all the children the man had. The man had a lot of children.
A tall buxom woman came to the door as Henry ran over to the boy roughly his age -Xander. Sigmund, who Jon gathered had a crush on his daughter, wrapped his alien hand around her wrist and dragged her in. Jon, as a father, he had his eye on that boy; he never thought any of Phlox's children would hurt his daughter – the doctor was the most benevolent guy he could imagine. But, he did think the boy would try something normal boys around that age would: to kiss her. And, for some reason, Archer wanted to delay that experience for his daughter as long as possible. It was unreasonable and illogical, but true.
While Jonathan gave the boy an icy, fatherly stare, Elyssa yelped a girlish squeal and greeted Sigmund with a hug. After a few moments she ran after him, while he ducked behind a piece of furniture as Phlox still helplessly attempted to calm Zeke, one of the younger ones.
A strange notion occurred to Archer: Elyssa was probably the aggressor in that relationship. The little girl seemed taken with the alien, doing things that little girls did to show interest – including pinching him and pulling on his hair. Sigmund was very definitely a troublemaker, but was just as interested in her – including showing her dirty things he'd looked up and passing notes. Under his breath, Archer gave a guffaw and thought about his little girl ending up with one of the Coles. (Phlox and Amanda gave all the children her last name.)
Henry looked over his shoulder after showing Xander some blueprints to build a model spaceship, something under normal circumstances he and his dad would do. Jon smiled at his boy, who gave an embarrassed sigh back, thanked Amanda, gave a slight wave and walked down the hall. As he made his way back to his cabin to get ready for his date, he wondered if the woman was pregnant again – she had that childbearing glow about her and her stomach protruded more than it normally did.
"Number six?!" he asked himself. With that, he showered and thought about a romantic evening with T'Pol.
T'Pol walked with Lorian, who continued to quiz her.
"Toru was eager to have you over tonight," T'Pol mentioned, glad that the Hayes' managed to suggest the idea to their son. It was less unseemly that way.
Lorian liked him … and Henry. Those two were probably the closest friends he had on Enterprise. And typically, Lorian was the leader in their activity, Henry made it happen through some engineering miracle and Toru was their go-to man. He'd do whatever they told him to, as if he was fearless. The Vulcan always admired that about his friend – bravery and courage that knew no physical boundaries. Yoshiko, Toru's sister, seemed slightly more fragile, but had an affinity to music, language and the arts. No doubt the girl would grow up to be elegant and refined.
When Hoshi appeared at the door, she curled her hand around Lorian's head and smoothed it, letting the boy in. It was one of the platitudes he liked from humans – the feeling of belonging and being cared for. Fortunately for him, his parents were surrounded by people who were determined to rear him. Uncle Malcolm, which he still called the man, no matter at 16 how ridiculous it sounded, provided advice on women. When his uncle would drone on about females, Lorian had wondered if he should be listening to a man who had been a bachelor all his days.
Phlox, an infinitely jovial man, provided the most fatherly advice. The man had taken to teaching biology, which for some reason alarmed T'Pol at first, but he had been proven to be a true mentor to the boy. Hoshi was the human mother he wished he had – loving, gracious, affectionate and caring. Archer in the past had served as commander and second father -- showing the boy love, discipline and an interest in following his dreams … which included stargazing.
He shoved thoughts about Archer aside as Toru grinned at seeing him.
"I've been reviewing the tactical information Dad provided me with during his training at the MACO Corps back on Earth," Toru said.
T'Pol saw her son get settled and decided to level with Hoshi. "Thank you for agreeing to this."
The woman nodded and decided to broach the subject. "So, I take it you and …?"
T'Pol agreed quietly, ensuring her son was out of eavesdropping range. "Yes."
"I'm glad," she whispered back. "You'll invite me to the wedding, right?"
T'Pol raised both eyebrows, as Hoshi laughed. "It's a joke, T'Pol."
The Vulcan was silently perplexed and exited the conversation hurriedly. Although she felt comfortable with the woman, she wasn't ready to think about this step with Archer. Unfortunately, now that it'd been said, certainly it would invade her thoughts. As she rounded corners and strolled down hallways, she came back to her cabin.
Archer was waiting in front of her door and produced a nervous smile.
"Seems I have you all to myself," he said, unsure how this night would go.
"It appears that way," she said.
She opened her door and allowed him access, which he took hesitantly walking behind her. As she entered her room, he confessed, "It's been a while since I dated. In fact, I didn't really date Esilia."
He wasn't sure why he needed to say it, but felt relieved once it left his mouth.
T'Pol agreed, "You knew each other approximately one week before marrying."
As Archer entered, he looked around. The room was like a cathedral – with candles every two feet, which T'Pol preceded to light. When all of them were lit, she reduced the lighting and a shimmering glow filled the cabin. Breathing deeply, he noticed a strong, but heady spice beginning to waft through the room. The smell was not quite floral, but more like spiced tea. Immediately he felt intoxicated on her.
"But, you only gave me a week," he said.
"You appeared to need less, actually."
Archer remembered the last day the Ikarran vessel and his ship would be docked. He'd been glad to spend more time with Esilia. They had a lot in common -- her grandfather was an astronomer and her father helped pilot one of the first long-range vessels from Ikarr that held families in its belly. She herself was an ace pilot, who had got her ship out of serious scrapes. The woman was curious, playful and loving. All in all, the captain was going to have a hard time saying goodbye to her. Looking over her long golden tendrils and into her gray eyes showed him that he wasn't really a monster – that the Expanse was a blip – and that he was worthy of being happy. He was … love-struck by her and everything about her, but asking her to stay didn't seem like the right thing to do for many reasons – some of which he couldn't quite put his finger on. The reason that spoke the loudest was: captains worried about the fate of their crew and never mixed with subordinates. If she joined Enterprise, she'd be reporting to him.
Meanwhile, his direct reports – namely Trip and T'Pol – were already encouraging him to have her onboard longer. How long was never specified, but Jon got the idea that to them it meant indefinitely.
Toward that end, Trip and T'Pol planned a farewell dinner at their quarters to meet the woman. Jonathan had only accepted because Trip seemed so insistent; his pal wouldn't let up, commenting that he'd been hiding her away for a whole week. Even T'Pol had commented that she'd been promised a meeting. With both of them working in cahoots, he couldn't say no.
As the door to the Tucker cabin slid open, Archer knew he was in for quite a night – the engineer was grinning from ear-to-ear as he gave Esilia the once over.
"Well, well. Nice to meet ya. Jon's told us all about you."
Esilia glanced up at Jon.
"My name's Trip and this is Lorian."
The Ikarran took Trip's extended hand. "My name is Esilia."
"Oh, we know who you are," Trip replied, smiling and then firmly taking her hand. He gave his boy a gentle push and the kid sprung into action. Apparently, he'd been prepped on how to distract Archer for the evening.
"I have some questions about the astronomy book you lent me," Lorian said. Ignoring his son for the first time in maybe the kid's lifetime, the engineer scooped Esilia's arm and began to chat. Archer looked suspiciously at the little boy as he toddled away from the two, toward the kitchen – still within hearing range – and plopped down onto a small sofa that could hold both of them.
"What's this?" Lorian asked.
Archer sat down, giving in, and leaned into the boy; this was definitely a set-up. Lorian already knew the names of all the heavenly bodies and reeled them off easily.
Speaking softly, he asked, "Are you sure you don't know?"
Lorian's hazel eyes focused on the captain and he said, "A quasar."
"Ah, you did know," he whispered. The man laughed.
Across the room, Trip prodded Esilia, pointing to his pal and Lorian. "Look at that will ya? You know, Jon would make a great Dad. He's been lending the kid books ever since the boy could read. And, Lorian adores him."
"Trip," Jon scolded as the engineer pretended he didn't hear him.
T'Pol wandered out from behind the kitchen counter with a small plate of vegetarian snacks. Her eyes leveled on Esilia and then back down on the tray to set it on a nearby table.
"My
name is T'Pol."
Esilia stuck her hand out, as the Vulcan regarded it.
"My people do not … shake hands," T'Pol said.
"I'm sorry. I believe Jon told me," she said.
"No apologies necessary. How would an Ikarran greet?" T'Pol asked.
Esilia smiled and said, "If you're uncomfortable with touching my hand, you wouldn't want me to greet you like an Ikarran."
Jon chimed in as Lorian turned the page beside him, "Kinda like a hug."
T'Pol raised her eyebrow. "I see."
Trip walked over to his boy, petted his hair and watched him beam. He wrapped his arms around him and swung Lorian into the air, which would've caused human children to squeal with delight. The little Vulcan smiled, but didn't giggle with glee. Instead, he flung his arms around Trip's neck and hung on tightly.
Esilia reached a hand and patted the boy's back. "How old are you?"
Lorian blinked, enjoying being caressed. "Four."
"You're very smart for a four-year old," she noted.
"Good genes," Trip quipped.
"Indeed," T'Pol added, acting as if hers were the ones that added intelligence as Trip rolled his eyes.
Ignoring her claim of superiority, Trip offered Esilia a seat on the couch and said, "I hear you're one heck of a pilot."
She shrugged. "I'm not bad."
Jon grinned. "She's being kind. She told me about a maneuver that Robinson himself couldn't pull off. It's like an L-4, but with an inverted axis."
"No kiddin'?" Trip asked.
"It wasn't that difficult," she said, smiling.
Out of the corner of Archer's eye, he saw T'Pol laid more food on a table and went back to the kitchen, behind the open counter, watching. Something about her movements and pacing seemed to indicate she felt … aloof, perhaps like she didn't belong. Since Esilia, who was naturally friendly, and Trip, who was possibly just as congenial, seemed to hit it off, Archer stood up and made his way over to T'Pol.
"Can I help you with dinner?" he asked.
"It's already prepared, but thank you."
"I would've brought you some wine, but … we traded the last of it to the Ikarrans yesterday for some equipment."
"Understandable." She noticed Archer was about to open his mouth when she decided to speak. "She seems quite pleasing to you. Young, healthy, attractive. Have you thought about making a long-term commitment?"
Jon
lowered his voice. "What do you mean … like marriage?
"I mean exactly marriage."
He sighed. "I've known her a week. Seems like a short time."
She lowered her voice further. "Who was the last woman you felt this way about?"
It seemed like a trick question really. The answer was painful to everyone: T'Pol. And he'd felt this way from almost the instant he'd met her. Well, maybe not the instant, but certainly within a few months or so.
He shrugged.
"I've never seen you this interested in a woman since … Rajiin?" she said.
Archer winced. That had turned out badly.
"Jonathan, you would be an excellent father. She seems to bring you contentment. It doesn't seem unreasonable for you to take her as a wife."
"Haven't you heard captains are always married to their ships?" he asked. Giving a teasing grin, he nabbed one of the carrots from a bowl.
"No. It must be some strange human custom I am unaware of," T'Pol said. "Vulcan captains are married … to other Vulcans."
As Archer was about to respond, Trip decided to bring the two back into the conversation. "I hope you two are about done. Esilia and I are hungry."
T'Pol answered, walking the short distance into the living room, "Human men are demanding aren't they, Esilia?"
The blonde watched Jon and said with a sly smile, "Not too much."
Archer grinned back and walked a few dishes into the living room. The Tuckers didn't do many things using Vulcan traditions, except for dinner. Trip kind of enjoyed sitting on the floor Indian style with his shoes off. For formal people, he was surprised this was the way Vulcans ate. Showing Esilia how it was done, he puffed up a few pillows and let himself fall down with Lorian in his lap. The boy barely made a noise as Trip chirped.
"I swear I'm gonna find something that makes this little guy sing in delight."
Esilia sat down next to Trip, completely at ease in the situation. Archer and T'Pol sat down next as they continued to chat. The captain's friends asked her every question they could think of – where she grew up, what she did, how she liked being a pilot and eventually how she met Archer.
On that particular subject, the Ikarran wasn't shy, not that she was shy anyway. "I thought he was beautiful. Why wouldn't I … what did you say Trip … hit on him?"
Trip laughed, Archer seemed somewhat embarrassed by the admission and T'Pol watched on.
"That's pretty much what happened with T'Pol and me. She hit on me."
T'Pol looked up. "I don't recall that at all. In fact, I remember Sim …."
"Well, honey, but that was Sim."
Archer loved the good-natured ribbing of the two, but didn't want to hear the story again, especially because it brought up a painful time in all three of their lives – when he'd cloned his friend and when T'Pol had been addicted to Trellium. Well, everything had turned out okay in the end …. Hadn't it? Had it?
Maybe that's one of the things that always bothered him about the relationship between his two friends – it was based on a drug addiction; one that had nearly killed her aboard the Selaya. Why would she insist on taking it after? He'd never understood; maybe he never would. T'Pol probably didn't understand either.
In talking with her months later, she'd confessed to being addicted not to the drug itself, but emotion. The captain found it hard to believe she would be eager to have feelings, especially since Vulcans fought their entire lives to suppress them. More likely, she enjoyed feeling for Trip and vice versa. After a difficult few months trying to fight the drug and its effects, she turned to her two best friends for assistance. Well, she turned to one for assistance and one as her captain.
If he'd been a little more open and available, maybe she would've turned to him as her friend. Maybe he would've assisted her, held her hand and explained all the emotions humans feel and why. Instead, he'd badgered her about it – disappointed and angry at her lack of control, agreed to let her have time off to work through the remnants of the addiction, worked to get supplies to treat her and other things necessary from a captain. Trip got to assist her with the emotions themselves.
Seeing the couple continue to banter back and forth and watching Esilia look on in confusion, Archer decided to join in -- it'd become their routine.
"Esilia, you'll have to forgive them. They've been married for a while," he said, teasingly, as an excuse.
"Do married people always argue?" she asked, innocently.
Jon smiled at thinking someone would see the two as arguing or not getting along. Well, actually he felt that way at times. In response, Trip's jaw went slack and T'Pol raised her eyebrow – obviously befuddled at the interpretation.
"Sometimes," Archer answered as diplomatically as possible.
Trip chuckled lightly, realizing some people didn't quite understand the relationship he had with his wife. She noticed the twinkling in his eyes and held up two fingers, which he took with enthusiasm, while the captain glanced down at his plate for a moment.
Within a few beats their fingers drifted apart and T'Pol began to clear the dishes away, as Esilia, Trip and Jon all stood to offer assistance. Esilia headed off in the Vulcan's direction before the men could do anything, and Trip seemed pleased; he wanted to talk with Jon anyway.
"Heck of a nice girl. Friendly. Pretty. So, you gonna ask her to stay?" Trip questioned.
Archer noticed the conversation was louder than he would've liked. He lowered his voice. "I don't know. Your wife said maybe I should."
The engineer grinned. "I think she's right."
"That doesn't happen very often," Archer chided.
"Well, except when she said 'yes' to me. And gave birth to this little beggar here," said Trip nodding to his son who smiled back at him. As the captain chuckled, Trip became a little more serious. "You've been grinning, whistling and walking around like this is the best thing that ever happened to you. I think you'd be making a big mistake if you didn't ask her to stay."
"I don't know, Trip. I mean, I've thought about being married, but …."
Trip's face grew serious and he lowered his voice more. "No offense, Jon, but she might be about it."
Archer didn't have to inquire further; he knew exactly what Trip meant, and the thought was a little depressing – but was probably true. All the women on the ship, especially T'Pol, were off-limits to him – not necessarily because of the command structure – they were all married, pregnant or both. The ship ran into precious few aliens over the course of their journey.
He'd been falling in love with Esilia ever since their first "date," but getting married was a lot different.
Trip's statement caused him to pause and stare at the ground.
"I'd hate to miss being Uncle Trip to all those little ridge-nosed Archers."
The captain continued to furrow his brow, lost in thought as the girls rejoined them.
"Well, Esilia, I think you're just about the nicest woman Jon's ever brought home. And, I've known the guy close to 15 years."
"Thank you, Trip. You know, I would almost say you're Ikarran – gregarious, free-spirited."
Trip grinned and turned to Jon pointing a finger at her. "I think I'm liking her more and more by the second."
Before Trip could do any more damage, Archer stood and made excuses to call it a night – he wanted to properly wish Esilia goodbye. In his mind, despite what his friends had said, he'd worked out all the particulars and seemed set on leaving without her. Somewhere in the recesses of his brain, that seemed the only avenue that made sense; he'd been denying himself happiness so long, maybe it was a reflex.
As Esilia had stepped into the hallway and Jon's foot crossed the threshold, T'Pol grasped his arm and said, "I hope you consider what we've talked about."
Archer got the distinct impression she knew he was planning on severing the relationship.
"I'd like to see you as satisfied as Trip and I are."
He stared into her eyes and knew she was speaking from the heart … wherever that was on a Vulcan. T'Pol and Trip's marriage, their baby … everything … everything she seemed to indicate in her life was perfect. Silently, he chastised himself. He never wanted to come between the two, but couldn't really stop loving or caring about her. After her marriage and Lorian's birth, his thoughts had wandered away from thinking about her sexually … not that he didn't still find her attractive. Instead he'd adored her from a far, veiled in friendship and a command structure.
It was peculiar to be falling in love with one woman, and yet still completely caught up in another – especially one that would never return it.
'Never return it,' he thought to himself, and he wouldn't want her to.
And that was that.
Suddenly while walking down the hall he thought maybe being with Esilia and having children wouldn't be so bad after all. He was very fond of Lorian and enjoyed spending time with the boy. Once a long time ago, he wanted to have children and teach them about astronomy. And as for Esilia, she was more than compatible – she enjoyed sports (understanding the basics of water polo already), piloting, fiddling with engineering components, space …. The woman was absolutely breath taking to look at and had a way of making him laugh. She had a wonderful sense of humor, wore her heart on her sleeve and was chatty – a perfect companion. He was falling in love with her anyway, being in love with her was only really less than a step away … and he was certain he could love her.
"Your friends are nice," she commented.
As he rounded the corner to his cabin, he gathered her in his arms for a moment.
"Maybe you should stay a little longer," he whispered.
"You'll be leaving tomorrow," she said. Her eyes twinkled as if he'd told a joke.
"I don't want you to stay just tonight."
She wrapped her hand around his and walked into his room. As they entered she didn't seem particularly interested in the details of what that meant, she just wanted to be with him. Archer could tell that her lips and tongue longed to be near him and that sparked the same desire. As their mouths met, he realized he was going to ask her; her lips on his and her body against his felt too good to allow her to leave.
'Why not? I'd be an idiot not to,' he thought. The idea gave him a rush and also confused him.
"Esilia, I mean it … I'd like you to stay," he whispered against her lips.
"Jonathan, you're in love with her," she said.
"Her?" he asked. He knew who she meant.
"You're in love with her. It's written all over your face."
A furrow worked itself onto his brow. "I don't understand."
A hand smoothed his face of wrinkles and she whispered, "What's peculiar is the way you feel about me is written there, too."
"Listen, I don't …," he began.
She interrupted, "You desire me. You want me to stay with you. You want to have children with me."
"Yes," he whispered and then kissed her lips.
Her fingers began working at the buttons on his shirt and the two disrobed each other quickly and effortlessly. After touching his lips to as much of her as he could, he began whispering to her as a lover does embarrassed to say the words.
"Marry me," he said.
"I want you all to myself," she said.
"I'm yours. There's no one else."
Reaching underneath his hair and staring into his eyes, she said, "Tell me again."
"I'm yours, Esilia."
A few important things came out of that night: a marriage only three days later, a birth exactly seven months later – the full gestation for Ikarrans – and the fulfillment of his promise. From the moment his words uttered his love for her, there was no one else; his feelings and emotions for T'Pol settled back into the love he had for a friend without the romantic complications … until Esilia died.
Back in the moment, Archer snapped himself out of it. If he was remembering Esilia, he wondered if T'Pol ruminated about Trip. It was hard to be married to someone for years, and then suddenly have her gone; it was difficult to be with someone new and not think of the previous relationship.
Marriage.
"You're staring again," T'Pol said, clearing reading material off her bed.
"I have that habit, don't I? I was just thinking how beautiful you are."
Her hand caressed his cheek as his eyes closed. "What did you and Esilia do romantically?" T'Pol asked. As his eyes flashed open, she clarified her intent. "Not in that respect."
He gave a sly smile. Truthfully, with Esilia there was really never a dull moment, or a quiet one. He thought back to their activities and presented a bashful grin. Esilia loved watching movies, sporting events, seeing photos of his family and Earth, talking about camping and the stars and reading. Sometimes, during the quiet of being in bed – romantically or near sleep, he'd read to her. They were poems he'd already memorized from his mother or from school. In the darkness his voice would whisper into the stillness of the room as she closed her eyes to imagine the words and his reading.
"Ah, you'll think it's corny."
"Corny?" asked the Vulcan.
"Silly."
"I understand the word. What did you do?" she asked.
Almost afraid to utter the words, he sighed and decided he was letting her see him naked, he might as well tell her something more intimate.
"I read her poety," Archer mumbled.
T'Pol's eyes lit up. "Why would that be silly? I quite enjoy dramatic readings. I haven't participated in one since I was approximately 40." She paused.
"Reading only or do you have these memorized?"
"I guess … memorized," he said.
"May I hear one?"
This was exactly what he was afraid of, but like a trouper he searched his mind for the right one to deliver. He settled on something sweet, but romantic.
"She walks in beauty like the night,
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright,
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light.
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies."
"Lord Byron – quite lovely."
Impressed, he said, "How'd you know?"
She responded by continuing the poem.
"One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place."
"T'Pol, I had no idea."
"In the past 18 years, I've read nearly everything in the database. Some things more than once."
He chuckled, "Me, too. I think I've read the complete works of Surak … three times."
"I was unaware."
"I began reading it the night you sent it to me … when I was on vacation on Risa."
She raised her eyebrow. "Why did you read it?"
"I love to read … and … I wanted to try and understand you a little bit better, I thought the gesture was generous, and, well … truthfully … I wanted to impress you."
Her mouth nibbled on his for a moment. "Really? You never mentioned you read it. I even offered to answer questions about it, hoping you had at least perused it."
"That's one of the reasons I read it twice. Some of the concepts were a bit … difficult to fathom, at least for an Earther. I didn't want to appear foolish."
T'Pol gathered his hands in hers and began leading him toward the bed. "Why would you want to impress me?"
They sat down together. He shrugged. Did he have a crush on her back then? Maybe. Although, he suspected it started after being kidnapped and tied up with her, he began to start smiling when he thought of her.
"I felt like I could use a couple of 'wins' with you. I wanted to know more of what you knew. And, I guess, I was already developing a … crush."
She lay down on the bed, lying on her back and Archer joined her, lying on his stomach.
"A crush?" she asked.
His finger twirled in her hair and beamed. "You begin to like someone as more than a friend, but it's not quite love. If you have a crush on someone, it's usually from afar."
"That long?" she asked.
No, before then. Maybe he developed those feelings ever since they were kidnapped by Andorians on P'Jem. Glaring, he'd watched one of them, Shran's right-hand man, come onto her. He'd already wanted to punch the captor, after that he'd wanted to do worse. Maybe ever since he saw her in the medical facility in San Francisco. She seemed snobby, rude, brash, assuming and beautiful – exotically so. He'd never seen an attractive Vulcan woman, but as she strolled down the hall and then challenged him, regardless of her youth, he was awed. So much so, that despite his own prejudices about Vulcans, he was attracted to her.
Working her mouth on his neck, she asked, "So when did this blossom to love?"
There wasn't a day that he decided he was in love with her. Instead, his crush seemed to develop in severity. After a painful discussion with Phlox when he was staying in Sickbay to keep an eye on Porthos, he had an erotic dream about her. He wasn't really sure he had a crush on her until that moment. And, after that, it was difficult not to think about her without becoming aroused and enamored of her. But, maybe it wasn't until he realized she was ill with Pa'nar Syndrome that he had to admit it wasn't just an attraction to a friend – it was something more. Something he'd personally hoped would go away, especially after the Xindi's attack on Earth.
"Hard to say," he whispered.
"I wish you would've told me."
He thought his subconscious had given her every clue she needed and then some. They were together now, and that was all that really mattered.
"At one time, I returned many of those feelings," she said.
His heart beat faster in his chest. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I believed I had. When your friend, A.G., died, I went with you to explore the dark matter."
"You said you wanted to ensure I was following regulations. Besides, you're my science officer."
"After you found out about the Xindi's attack on Earth, I followed you into the Expanse, not Enterprise."
"I thought that was loyalty. You told me I needed you, but as captain."
"Loyalty? Soval has been my mentor for many years; I did not choose to stay on Earth. Jonathan, I chose you," she said, quietly.
"What happened?"
"You changed."
He had. The mission was grueling on his psyche. He wasn't sure how many crewmembers knew it, but he didn't think they'd find the weapon, save Earth or even make it out alive. He'd devoted every minute to the task, examining information, checking ideas and wondering about their fate. If he had anything to do about it, he'd come back with all his crewmen and news of a destroyed weapon. But, already that task had proven impossible.
"Trip opened his heart to me and I … fell in love with him. I needed him."
He wished he would've opened his heart to her, especially if he'd known, but his heart was set on saving Earth. Focus, drive, duty, obligation and determination made him Jonathan Archer. It helped him succeed at the academy, reach commander at such a young age and win command of Enterprise. It had also lost him more than a few girlfriends, friends and acquaintances along the way, caused at least one fist fight (with his friend A.G.) and probably was why no one had spoken to him about his reckless behavior, loss of weight and the large bags under his eyes during the earlier days in the Expanse. It was that same determination that pressed T'Pol to find a way out of their predicament even 18 years after being trapped in the past.
His nose brushed against hers like he might do with his daughter – playfully and lovingly; it surprised him that she returned the gesture. After gazing into her eyes for a few moments, he switched positions and lay on his back. Grabbing her hand, he stared at the ceiling.
"Jonathan?"
"Yes?"
She scooted onto her side and looked at his profile for a moment. "You were in love with me when we first entered the Expanse?"
"Yes."
That idea confused her. He was snappish, aggravated and angry all the time – putting the kybosh on movie nights and anything that wasn't Xindi-related. Driven would be the perfect word to describe him, but she had no idea the unhealthy level it could soar to or had already reached. Occasionally, when he thought he'd worked out how they would suddenly travel into the future and be restored to the present time, he demonstrated the same motivation.
For a moment, he enjoyed her staring at him. He brought her small frame into his arms and clarified, rolling her on top of him.
"I was crazy about you. I couldn't leave you behind on the Selaya," he said.
"Nor did you leave me behind on a planet. And you didn't line the hull with trellium. I understand Trip was concerned about that."
Slipping his hands around her waist, he held her at his lap and gently wrapped his fingers at her collar to bring her lips to his.
Eager to kiss him back, but unwilling to let this line of reasoning end, she questioned him in between kisses.
"You responded to me … my voice … when we had transformed into the Loque'eque. Hoshi and Malcolm didn't recognize me."
His hands slid under her shirt. "Yes. I wanted you. I trusted you. I kept pushing out doubt."
"When I asked you not to die on Azati Prime?" she asked. "I tried to follow you there."
"You tried to follow me? I didn't know."
Sensing she was about to ask something else, he decided to silence her. "Come here," he cooed. His lips were begging to be kissed.
She bent down and his tongue parted her lips with a light groan. With each kiss, his mouth and tongue became greedier.
Lifting herself from the onslaught of his lips. "The day you saved my leg from the beam, I was afraid you'd died."
He worked her blouse off, showing off something that made him smile – her gray undershirt – the one she wore before they'd entered the Expanse in Decon.
"Mild concussion."
"Not mild."
"Not that bad," he said.
"When you came back from Azati Prime, covered in contusions and …," she began.
"T'Pol," he interrupted. "That was the past. I just wasn't sure what I should say or whether I should say anything. And, maybe I was too focused on finding the Xindi … I managed to shove pretty much everything and everyone out of my life."
Her face was riddled with confusion and she stared at him wondering why he'd never mentioned anything before. Although he hadn't mentioned anything, neither had she; she'd always assumed they were friends. When Sim opened his heart to her, she leapt at the possibility of something she'd read about and heard of -- love. It was what ultimately led her to taking trellium – the desire to be loved.
He dragged her to meet his lips and rolled on top of her. Rather than continue to give her loving embraces, he wanted to make them more serious and fiery. Moaning into her throat, his lips became more demanding.
"You indicated you wished it was more leisurely," she said.
"It's about 2000. I think we have a while," he whispered. Her eyes widened at the statement as his seared her skin. As if to concede, she wrapped her fingers around the bottom of his shirt and began to pull it off of him.
Though wanton, he was insistent on holding back his urgency. It was his primary goal to stare at her, kiss her and learn all the nuances of how she wanted to be touched. Testing this, he nibbled on her left ear – first at the earlobe and then the tip. When his mouth encircled the pointed end and his tongue flicked against it, he felt her writhe under him. Carefully, his lips paced themselves to her neck. After getting a mild response, he gently bit at her throat, which caused her to hiss. Leaving the more exciting parts of her body for later, his lips caressed her arms, wrists, hands and fingers. Out of all those, she whimpered when he kissed her fingertips. After teasing her by lovingly gnawing on each one, she gave a faint gasp – something she hadn't done in some time.
"I want you," she whispered.
Ignoring her plea, he kissed her stomach and his tongue dipped into her navel. He noted that her bellybutton didn't seem to get a rise out of her and raised her hip slightly, guiding her onto her stomach. His lips, teeth and tongue worked up her back as she shivered. A light groan escaped her lips as his teeth gently grabbed at the skin on the back of her neck. Working her out of her slacks, he kissed up and down her legs, lapped at the souls of her feet and took her toes into his mouth to bite them. As he rolled her onto her back, he raked his teeth against her fingers.
As if being tickled, she squirmed under him. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked huskily. Knowing it would strike a nerve, he rolled his tongue along the tip of her index finger as she jumped a little under him.
Seeing another question form on her face, he said, "I just want to spend time caressing you. I want to make you feel good."
She ran her hand down his chest. "I want that for you too."
Pushing up her gray undershirt he whispered. "This feels great. I've been wanting to do this."
Storing all these things in his memory was highly satisfying. It wasn't just touching her and showing he loved her, it was seeing her enjoy it. She satisfied his soul by leaning into his caresses and returning his feelings – maybe not to the depth he felt them, but enough … enough to make him kiss every inch of her.
Chapter 20
T'Pol awoke with a small start and blinked; she'd left all the candles burning. Trip used to scold her saying she was going to set Enterprise ablaze, and then he would grumble and blow each one of them out. He'd been so amusing about the whole ordeal, she'd occasionally done it purposefully to watch him chide and tease her.
But, Jonathan was unaware of the world, sleeping peacefully. There was enough light that she could see every wrinkle around his eyes and mouth. She wanted to trace them lightly with her finger, but decided against it. It would wake him, and he looked so serene and at ease. She wondered whether the sensation would cause him to laugh, as it might've Trip or would've sparked him toward passion.
Curious.
Emotions had always fascinated her. She'd been trying to determine Jonathan's for some time. Although she was well versed on his expressions, she gathered what was on his face merely scratched the surface of feeling. And many times, his face was blank – as if devoid of emotion.
She'd been worried about him ever since the funeral. It seemed he was martyring himself as he was prone to do. He attempted to cheer others up at Esilia's wake, including comforting his children who cried uncontrollably. After the service, when Henry and Elyssa were in bed, she'd offered to watch them for a moment, hoping to provide him a little time alone. But, Archer steadfastly declined – as he was never going to wish his wife goodbye. He remained almost Vulcan-like in his refusal to accept his feelings or possibly even the circumstance itself.
On the one-year anniversary of his wife's death, she and Trip had been asked to watch Henry and Elyssa for the third week in a row. Trip was angry at the captain for the way he dealt with things – which meant not dealing them. The engineer had tried to get his friend to open up … to no avail. But, the most damning evidence came when Elyssa, who didn't remember her mother, asked endless questions about the woman to T'Pol one night.
"Why don't you ask your father?" T'Pol repeated.
"He doesn't like to talk about her," Henry answered.
"What color was her hair?" Elyssa asked.
T'Pol sighed. "Like yours, perhaps yours is even blonder."
"Was she tall?" Elyssa asked.
"She was taller than me. Slightly shorter than Trip," T'Pol said.
"Did he love her?" Elyssa asked, sticking out her lip.
"Of course. You should ask your father these questions."
"He doesn't like to talk about her," Henry said again.
For some unknown explanation, Elyssa began to let little tears trickle down her face. T'Pol picked her up, put her into her lap and caressed her hair.
"Don't fret," T'Pol said.
The little girl buried her face into T'Pol's shoulder and cried. The Vulcan glanced at Trip from across the room as her spouse shook his head. He picked up Henry and hugged the boy to him.
"Now, your father loved her a lot. He's just having a tough time with her death, although he won't admit it. He's kinda stubborn that way." Like a man weaving a magical tale, he decided to speak again and cheer the kids up. "Did I ever tell you about my trips to Jupiter?"
Spellbound, Lorian, Elyssa and Henry listened. T'Pol set Elyssa onto the couch and decided she was going to talk with the captain right away. She understood the man was having difficulty coping, but he needed to face facts – his children were suffering and she wasn't going to stand for it another minute.
Marching down corridors, she tried to steady her emotions. Although she was not overly emotional, this situation called up her maternal instincts. After gaining entrance to see him, she tried to reason with him. As the conversation continued, she could see his eyes were pained, but he dismissed his emotions – at least those buried underneath the surface. Unwilling to back down, T'Pol continued to chip away at him.
Archer finally yelled, "You don't know what it's like!"
She didn't, not at that time. Instead of allowing him to turn inward she reached out to him, almost with the same loving care she would Trip or her son. At her touch, he withered a little – sagging his shoulders and lowering his eyes. It was difficult to watch the man accept her feeble offer of support and begin to crumble.
The Vulcan did something against her nature, but something she felt was necessary to do – awkwardly, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him, drawing the man into a hug. As soon as he was enveloped in her arms, he hung his head limply onto her shoulder. And when she tightened her hold, reassuring him, he began to weep huskily and clutched at her like he was clinging to life itself. His voice grew silent quickly, but for several minutes she felt tiny droplets of water collect at her neck.
As she stood there, she thought – watching Jonathan completely break down was one of the most moving experiences she'd had, following her marriage to Trip, Trip's death and the birth of her son. Entangled in the moment, but afraid to ruin it, she remained still and fought the urge to cry herself, caress his face or hair, or speak softly like she would Lorian when he had managed to skin his knee. Instead she reflected on why the experience was moving: Jonathan Archer never cried. Never.
Trip wept easily and readily – during sad movies, sometimes in arguments with her and with happiness at the birth of their son. With emotional agility, he always recovered easily and quickly. She'd deduced that by frequent communication of how he felt, he was able to understand and accept his emotions. In fact, humans in general had that knack – she'd seen every single other crewmen cry (even Reed).
Throughout the years of serving with him, she'd seen Jonathan become misty-eyed or hurt, but he always swallowed his emotions and continued onward, ignoring deeper feelings. She'd never, in all her years of serving as his first officer, seen him allow tears to reach his cheeks … and now his face and her neck and shoulders were soaked with them.
When he regained his control, he stepped away, exhaled and focused his attention on the deck plating.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"Why?" she asked.
He cleared his throat and nodded, staring down.
"You're my friend. Isn't this what they do? Comfort each other?" she asked, thinking he'd done so with her before.
Lamely, his head nodded weakly.
She said, "You're right. I don't know what it's like to lose a spouse. However, being Vulcan, I'll outlive Trip by somewhere close to 80 years. So, I'll eventually find out." She paused. "I do know it must be painful."
His countenance remained unchanged as she watched him trying to get a handle on his emotional collapse; he seemed unwilling or unable to speak.
Leaving a tinge of emotion in her voice, she admitted. "I'm honored you felt you could share that with me."
He continued to remain silent and still. Feeling a little uneasy, she said, "I hope you … feel better?"
For a moment her hand reached out into thin air, nearly stroking his salt and peppered hair. Rather than do so, she placed it on his shoulder, sparking a bit of him to life.
He rubbed his hand over his face and cleared his throat again. With a light snort he answered her.
"If you call feeling exhausted, guilty and embarrassed better, then I guess I'm getting there."
Humor. Archer frequently used it to ease difficult moments and this usually meant he was okay.
Staring after her a moment, he admitted, "Maybe I should go get Elyssa and Henry."
With that, she walked with him silently to her cabin, wanting to pat his back or give him some kind of encouragement, but wondering which one. Although she'd shown Jonathan emotions before, she was not accustomed to them and mostly felt confused about which ones to reveal and how. Showing Trip was easy, he was relaxed and comfortable with his own feelings; Jonathan rarely ever was.
The memory roused her sleeping partner and he lifted his head up. Gray hairs askew, he glanced around her room.
"What are you trying to do, burn the place down?" he asked, jokingly, nodding to the candles.
T'Pol's eyebrow rose against her forehead. "I believe I attempted to get up once, but you wouldn't let me."
He smiled and nuzzled her neck. "How long was I asleep?"
"Only a half hour."
His lips entreated hers as she broke the connection. She peeked at the clock, noting it was only a little before midnight. Leaning over, she slowly began to kiss his neck, noting it tasted like salt. Planting small kisses along his throat, he fidgeted beside her -- ticklish.
As if to add it to her memory, she said, "You like that."
"It's nice," he agreed. His hands reached out for her as she took them into her mouth, nibbling on them as he'd done for her. At the feel of her lips on his fingers he groaned.
Kissing up his arm and around his shoulders made him sigh. Licking his navel made him hiss and writhe. She felt his fingers weaving through her hair as her mouth and teeth danced up his chest.
"Come here," he whispered, hoping to kiss her.
"It's your turn to be patient," she said.