By: JennaTripped

Rating: G

Disclaimer: They're not mine... sigh Paramount gets all the luck, even if they don't realize how great a thing they really have here...

Archive: Trip/T'Polers... all others please ask!

Summary: It's shore leave! This chapter has no substance. Sorry guys, but I figured it's been such a dry month in terms of T/T fic that I'd put this little crumb out there before we all starved to death.

A/N: So, now that I've been spoiled up through episode 6 of season 4, I've tweaked a few things. There is ONE mild Spoiler for season 4 in here about human xenophobia, but it's so minor...

Trip leaned back in the plastic green lawnchair and sighed contentedly. It was about 11 o'clock. He was facing away from the house, where lights blazed as his family prepared for bed. The only light he had was coming from the stars. The solitude was a little comforting after such a long day. He stared at them for a moment, absently outlining the usual constellations. A small red dot crossed in front of him, the space station continuing its orbit around the Earth. On the full moon, he could see the darkened patch that was the Lunar 1 colony. Trip chuckled. It made the man in the moon look like he had a giant zit on his face.

Trip couldn't remember being this relaxed or this happy in a very long time.

He turned his head slightly as the shuffle of bare feet across grass reached his ears. His mother sat down beside him and brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"What are you looking for?"

"Nothin' in particular. Just thinking."

They sat quietly for a moment, both absorbing the cooling night air. Susan Tucker watched her son as his eyes fluttered shut and he took a deep breath. She absently wondered what the air on Enterprise smelled like. Probably not as good as this. She felt the hot sting of tears prickle behind her eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that day. There was no reason for her to be upset, not really. She had her baby boy back, and that was all that should matter.

But it wasn't. She wanted him to stay. Space was dangerous, and she had already lost one child to humanity's urge to explore. It had been strange facing people after Elizabeth's death. They were angry at her because she had a child on Enterprise, the ship that had brought the Xindi to Earth. Many blamed Trip and the other StarFleet officers for all those horrible deaths. But at the same time, they never said anything because they knew she also had a child who had died in the attack. Fitting penance, probably.

"Did you have a good time today?"

Trip opened his eyes and smiled. "Yep. It was a great party mom. Thanks."

Susan felt happiness bloom inside. She'd wanted this to be perfect for him. "I hope T'Pol enjoyed it as well."

Trip shifted in the chair and shrugged, but Susan didn't miss the way his eyes lit up, or the way they slid quickly towards the eastern-most room on the second floor.

"Yeah, yeah I think she did." Susan waited for him to continue, but Trip remained silent. She felt a little bubble of panic well up inside her at that look. He couldn't be interested in T'Pol that way, could he? She was a Vulcan. She didn't feel love. Trip deserved love...

He'd mentioned T'Pol in his letters, but she'd simply thought he'd come to respect her as a scientist. He hadn't said anything about a personal relationship.

"How is it working with her?"

Trip looked at her warily. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she's a Vulcan..."

Trip smiled and settled back into the chair. "Yep. She is. She's brilliant. Smartest woman I've ever met. And she's got a great sense of humor." He laughed when his mom raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah! That's it! She does that all the time. It's funny 'cause she's so predictable like that." Trip grinned, warming up to his favorite topic. "Plus, she helps me sleep. There's this practice Vulcans have – neuropressure – I don't know why we haven't picked it up yet. It puts any massage you've ever had to shame!" Trip shook his head with an amused smile and looked back at the stars, his thoughts wandering back a few months ago on Enterprise.

Susan felt the niggling panic begin to grow. She let out a short breath through her nose. Trip looked happy enough, but why he had to be smiling over a Vulcan woman and not some nice human girl, she couldn't figure out. She'd have to talk to him about it, but now wasn't a good time. She stood and kissed him on the forehead.

"Don't stay out too late."

"I won't. Night Mom."

Trip listened as his mother's footsteps retreated into the house and slowly sat up. He looked up at T'Pol's window. She was probably meditating. He grabbed his sandals off the grass and made his way back into the house. He was exhausted, but in a pleasant, euphoric way. He could still feel T'Pol's gaze from earlier at the picnic table. It wasn't the worst thing in the world to go to sleep thinking about.

T'Pol took a pillow from the bed and settled herself on the floor. Three candles were placed strategically around her. She contemplated the second one. The day had been long and tiring, but she found Commander Tucker's family to be very pleasant, for the most part. She knew that several of them were not happy with her presence at their reunion. While Enterprise had been away fighting the Xindi, the panic-stricken people of Earth had reverted to some xenophobic tendencies. The Tuckers were not an exception, but all of them had been unfailingly polite.

She liked his parents, especially Mr. Tucker. T'Pol found herself wondering if that was what Trip would look like 30 years from now. She found the physical resemblance between members of his family remarkable. Humans displayed a much wider range of hair, skin, and eye color than Vulcans, and she had not expected the genes for blue eyes and blonde hair to be as uniformly distributed in the Tucker clan as they were.

T'Pol turned her attention back to the meditation candle. She had much to think over today. The most pressing matter was how she had allowed three hours of her to day pass by sitting at a picnic table with Commander Tucker's toes tickling the bottoms of her feet. T'Pol took a deep breath and allowed her emotions to rise to the surface of her consciousness. She was faintly embarrassed, but more surprised than anything. There was also the matter of the dog. They had named their animal after the Vulcan ambassador to Earth. T'Pol knew she would have to have a discussion with Trip about this at some point. He could not possibly believe he would be able to keep this "secret" from her for the full two weeks of their visit. She breathed slowly out through her mouth and closed her eyes, allowing the peace of the moment to soothe her.

T'Pol opened her eyes, momentarily disoriented by the large room and vaulted ceiling she found herself in. She heard the sound of a dog barking, followed by the happy shouts of a human child. She blinked and looked at the clock next to the bed. 0800 hours. She had slept in.

After showering and dressing in simple civilian attire, T'Pol stepped into the hallway and turned to go down the stairs. She paused, glancing behind her at the door at the end of the hall. On impulse, she turned around and quietly moved to the door. Her sensitive hearing detected slow, rhythmic breathing coming from within. Commander Tucker – Trip – was still sleeping. She remembered a comment his father had made yesterday about Trip sleeping "like the dead". She had not contradicted Charles, but was well aware that Trip did not always find sleep so effortless. Still, T'Pol found that she was unsure of what to do now. Logically, she should go downstairs and locate some tea. However, she was illogically apprehensive.

Quietly and methodically, she opened the door and stepped into the shadowed room. She gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed and watched the gentle rise and fall of Trip's chest. A sheet was tangled haphazardly around his waist and legs, and his arms were thrown out at odd angles, taking full advantage of the extra space. T'Pol sat quietly, content to watch him. Trip's subconscious, however, sensed another presence in the room. His eyes opened and locked on hers.

"Hello."

T'Pol felt her chest tighten. His voice was rough from sleep, his hair sticking out on end, and he was watching her with the same expression he had worn at the picnic yesterday.

"Good morning," she replied.

Trip straightened the sheet and sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face and sighing.

"How long have you been here?"

"Several minutes."

Trip grinned and scooted over on the bed, letting T'Pol find a more comfortable spot.

"Watching me sleep?"

"Yes."

Trip mulled over that for a moment. A simple yes. Months ago, even a few weeks ago, she would have found a logical excuse to be in his room and offered it up immediately. This was different.

"Are you excited about today?" Trip watched her, fascinated. Something weird was going on, and he was more than content to let it happen. "We're gonna go..." He trailed off when she lifted her hand and extended her fingers towards his face. Trip held perfectly still, not even daring to breathe, as T'Pol brushed a lock of hair back and smoothed it down. "... diving today."

"Yes, I remember. You will recall, however, that I do not know how to swim."

"We'll find some shallows." She tilted her head, throwing her profile into the light coming in between the blinds. His heart sighed a little. "Are you hungry?"

"I would like some tea, if you have it."

"Sure thing. Lemme just get dressed and I'll join you downstairs, okay?"

"Of course."

T'Pol absently smoothed the covers of his bed with her hand while listening to Trip rummage through his closet. She heard a muffled swear and resisted the temptation to turn around and see what he was doing.

"M'kay, you can look now."

T'Pol stood and turned around, running an appraising eye over the still-sleepy Trip. She idly noted that his taste in clothing yesterday had obviously been a fluke. He was wearing another vividly patterned shirt. Ensign Sato had called them "loud." T'Pol would have chosen another adjective, but she did not wish to hurt her friend's feelings. She recognized that this sensitivity to the whimsical nature of human emotion was new. She would not have hesitated to be blunt a few months ago.

The bright red and orange garment was lazily tucked into a pair of light denim jeans, which actually fit him well. She blinked when he offered her a lopsided grin.

"Commander, if you will allow me... I believe that were Ensign Sato here now, she would refuse to be seen with you in public."

"What? Hoshi loves my shirts..." Trip gave her a playfully wounded look and watched with interest as she opened his closet again.

"No, Hoshi is an exceptionally sensitive and intuitive woman. That does not mean she likes your shirts. Here. You seem to have trouble coordinating colors."

She handed him another shirt from the closet. Trip kept his eyes on her as he reluctantly unbuttoned the bright monstrosity and exchanged it for the more subtle colors of the t-shirt she'd found in the back. T'Pol rationalized that her actions were logical. It did not matter if Trip was aesthetically pleasing, but she realized that he was frequently picked on for his choice in civilian clothes, and she did not wish to draw more attention to them on their outing than could be avoided.

"It won't matter ya know, T'Pol. We're not gonna be swimming in our clothes. I've got wetsuits on the boat. I even found one that might fit you." He grinned cheekily and pulled the t-shirt over his head. "There, happy?"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, alright." He laughed. "Let's find some breakfast."

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