T'Pol was concerned with Trip's behavior. She had barely seen him since his futile attempt at meditation the day before, when he had practically run to the lower decks to take refuge in his quarters. He shouldn't have been embarrassed; many humans didn't understand the complexities of meditation, and few managed to master the art on their first try. Trip, though, had seemed almost frantic after only a few minutes. She was greatly troubled by his reaction to meditation. She'd been very pleased when he expressed the interest to learn it, and she was more than happy to teach him. He had grasped the concept of neuro-pressure after only a few sessions, so she assumed he would take to meditation the same way.
But what troubled her most was that she had felt his anxiety before it was evident in his behavior. That is, she could tell that something was troubling him before he ceased his meditation exercises and got to his feet. The very thought that she could sense his mood was unnerving.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had been able to sense Trip's emotions for quite some time. She just had not consciously been aware of it. That alone was upsetting, because it meant that she had recognized it on a subconscious level, and Vulcans did not believe in the subconscious. The presence of the subconscious undermined logic, suggesting that there was something else behind decisions. Vulcans, who based everything – every choice, every decision, every aspect of life – on logic, could not afford to be swayed by the actions of the subconscious, and so refused to concede its existence.
Humans, she knew, believed in the subconscious, and blamed much of their behavior on it, which was perhaps one reason why Vulcans did not acknowledge it. She had heard Trip comment more than once that "on a subconscious level, I think I knew what I was doin'".
Still, many of her choices of the past year could have hardly been based in logic. It was not logical to agree to perform neuro-pressure on the commander. It was not logical to acquiesce to her Trellium-D addiction. It certainly was not logical to have sexual relations with Trip. Were these decisions based on the subconscious?
She knew, of course, that her instigating a physical relationship with the commander was due to her attraction toward him. Perhaps, subconsciously, she had been attracted to Trip before agreeing to the neuro-pressure sessions, which was why she had consented to them in the first place. He was an attractive male, something not biased to his being human. She recognized beauty when she saw it, and the commander certainly was a fine specimen.
There were times over the past three years when she considered him a friend – even before the neuro-pressure sessions began. He had proven himself to be discreet and compassionate when giving her advice on how to deal with her situation with Koss. And he had seemed pleased when she ultimately decided to remain on Enterprise rather than return to Vulcan to be married.
And the Trellium? Perhaps that had been an excuse to act on her attraction. Then she would have something on which to blame her actions.
She was unsure how other Vulcans would respond if they knew what she had done. Mating with a human, even once, was not seen favorably by the vast majority of the Vulcan population. At least she had not bonded with him, though several times during their coupling she had been tempted to do just that. Since Vulcans were touch-telepaths, she had been able to sense Trip's feelings during their…impassioned struggle, and she had sensed that the feelings to which Sim had confessed most definitely belonged to the commander as well. The entire time they were joined, she had felt connected to him. That connection almost inspired her to seek out the contact points that would have linked them in a bonding meld.
Bonding with Trip would have been inexcusable, which was why she had refrained. And even though it had been months since their night together, she still felt a connection with him. Yet she had not recognized that connection for what it was until just moments ago.
T'Pol opened her eyes. Her restlessness had not been eased by meditation, as she'd hoped it would be. Perhaps food would succeed where meditation had failed.
As she rose from her bed and walked to the door, she thought it a shame that other Vulcans had not discovered the joy of pecan pie.