Day 10

"You must really be proud of yourself," Trip said as he slicked decontamination gel on her back. "You can put an end to this mission while the captain's still unconscious in sickbay. You don't even have to look him in the eye."

She knew she should have been concentrating on his words, but all she could focus on were his hands caressing her back. She could feel her body instinctively responding to his touch and clamped down on her reactions. She forced herself to ignore the tingling in her ears, the tightening of her nipples, her hair standing on end.

As his fingers slipped below the waistline of her panties she spoke to mask her true feelings. "Your precious cargo was stolen, three Suliban – perhaps more – were killed, and Captain Archer has been seriously wounded." When he brought his fingers to her ears, she was sure that she could not contain herself any longer, so she wrenched her head away and turned to face him. "It seems to me this mission has put an end to itself." She paused, staring into his deep blue eyes. "Turn around."

T'Pol woke from her dream at the frenzied knocking on her door. She wasn't even aware that she had fallen asleep, yet somehow she had ended up in bed. The knocking stopped almost as soon as it had begun, and she laid her head back on the pillow.

The knocking started again. "T'Pol?" Commander Tucker.

She threw back the covers, swung her legs around, and slid off the bed. She padded barefoot across the room and opened the door. Trip stood there, clad in a T-shirt and boxers. He stared at her for a moment, blinking at the sight of her in her pajamas, then he slipped into her quarters without being invited and shut the door behind him.

"We need to talk," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. Something was clearly troubling him. "So I gathered. What is the matter?"

Trip sank into her desk chair. "Do you know anyone named Solen?"

Solen. A name she had not heard for some time. "Yes. His father was a friend of my father's when they both served in the High Command. The last I heard, Solen was on Earth. He tried to contact me while I was at the consulate in San Francisco, but we never managed to meet." She sat down on the bed, facing him. "Why do you ask?"

Trip pursed his lips. "He came up to me in the galley earlier. Asked me what our relationship was."

T'Pol stiffened. She had suspected that the other passengers would be suspicious when they saw her traveling companion, but she had not expected anyone to comment to either of them on the status of their relationship. Perhaps she should have anticipated this when she was inviting him; it might have made her think twice about doing so.

But when she thought about it, she realized that she did not want to spend her entire shore leave without the commander. Her invitation may have seemed illogical to other Vulcans, but to her it was the only logical course of action. She needed Trip, more than she would ever admit.

"What did you tell him?"

Trip narrowed his eyes. "What do you think I told him? I said we were just friends. I don't think he believed me, though."

She averted her eyes, forcing herself to look at the floor. "Does he have reason to suspect otherwise?"

When he didn't respond, she glanced up at him, and their eyes locked. She had forgotten how penetrating his gaze could be, how easily she could lose herself in his eyes. He spoke softly. "You haven't even been outta your quarters for the past two and a half days. Maybe if we just avoid each other most of the time, no one'll get suspicious."

It wasn't the answer for which she was hoping. "Is that want you want?"

He sighed and became interested in his fingernails. "No. But these aren't my people, T'Pol. They're yours. We'll do whatever you wanna do."

She watched him play with his fingers, stifling the illogical urge to take his hand in her own. She straightened and infused as much dignity into her voice as she could muster. "I see no reason to avoid each other, Commander. The other passengers are aware that we are traveling together. Making an effort to stay away may raise their suspicions more than they already are."

He gave her a tiny smile. "Sounds good to me. I'll let you sleep." He rose and walked swiftly to the door. "Good night, T'Pol."

She nodded. "Good night, Trip."

He paused, his hand poised above the button to open her door, and turned to look at her. She merely cocked an eyebrow at his reaction, though she could feel her cheeks flushing. He smiled, opened the door, and was gone.

A/N: T'Pol's dream is the infamous decon scene from "Broken Bow".

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