A/N: Neptune60, Shran doesn't buy it hook line and sinker. What kinda story would that be? Dennis, get better soon! (And you're right about the storyline.) Archangemon, thanks for logging in!
Archer waved Trip into his room and noticed how hesitant his engineer was to enter, which made him get out of bed and wave more empathically.
"Trip, let us explain."
"I … I don't think I need any explanation," Trip said.
Rather than touch the engineer, T'Pol let a frown almost spread over her face. The captain wondered why she didn't reach out to him, especially since at one point they were an item.
His engineer and science officer stared at each other for a moment, which made him feel even more uncomfortable than before. Glancing over at the bathroom, he thought maybe he'd give them some privacy.
Privacy? This is my room.
With more confidence he walked to the door. When he did, he could interpret Trip's emotions easily: the guy looked like his heart ripped was ripped out of his body and shoved down his neck.
"Are you going to come in? Because we sure as hell can't all stand in our night clothes in the hall," Archer said.
Trip's feet eventually shuffled in and the door slid closed behind him. Warily, he turned his eyes to T'Pol and then to the captain.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," Trip said, staring at his feet.
Archer sighed. "Trip, T'Pol married me because of a challenge …."
Trip cut him off. "I know. Phlox told me."
"Well, then you know we're not married because we're in love."
The Vulcan shot her eyes toward him and then slowly looked back at Trip. "Why did you come here, Commander?"
"I just … I guess I couldn't believe it." Trip's eyes still focused on the floor. "I mean you two …."
"We're living together because we have to," Archer said.
"In the same bed?" asked the engineer, weakly.
T'Pol crossed her arms. "Jonathan and I are friends …."
"Jonathan?" Trip asked, finally daring to lift his head.
"She's using my first name to fool the Andorians."
"I may call him Jonathan if I wish." Her arms intertwined just a little more and her head tilted slightly to one side. It meant she was feeling defensive.
Reassessing the situation, the captain wondered if they had been an item, but now were dealing with the discomfiture of having an ended relationship. Whatever it was, it was confusing and charging the atmosphere like right before a lightning storm; it was prickling his skin and causing the hairs on his neck to stand up.
Breaking the silence, Archer gripped his engineer's shoulder. "Phlox said you're supposed to be in your quarters resting."
The Southerner nodded glumly.
"Trip, nothing is happening between us." As Trip's sad blue eyes found his, he reiterated the concept. "Nothing."
T'Pol raised her eyebrow without confirming or denying.
"In a week, this will all be over and … everything will go back to normal," Archer said. "T'Pol and I will get divorced and live separately again."
Perking up just a little, Trip gave a smirk. "Well, I guess what you two do is your own business."
Archer was glad the information was finally sinking in. And before T'Pol could answer, he decided to respond.
"Don't let this bother you."
"I guess you're right."
The captain nodded. "Go get some rest. We have an early meeting tomorrow."
Trip was about to saunter out, when he turned around. "T'Pol, maybe we can have lunch together. While on the marauder ship … I had time to think about a few things. Some things we might wanna discuss."
"I don't know whether that's wise. Commander Shran may grow suspicious."
"I don't see any problem with lunch between friends," Archer said, smiling.
An eyebrow poked up against her forehead after she delivered a somewhat steely gaze at the captain. Her eyes then met Trip's.
"Very well. 1200 tomorrow in the Mess Hall?" she asked.
Trip grinned. "You bet."
With that, the engineer marched back into the hall and the door slid behind him. After watching the door for a few seconds, the captain's head ducked into his hand. Without asking questions about the relationship status of his two most senior officers, deciding if they weren't in this predicament he wouldn't have known anything going on, he walked over to the bed.
Wouldn't have known? Well, almost. Anyway, best to ignore it. Challenging himself, he chanted in his mind a mantra: Don't go there.
As if to address that issue, she turned to him. "I'm sure you wish to know …."
"Not really."
Giving the tiniest of sighs, her lips flattened. "I think it's best that I explain …."
Crawling under the sheets, he reaffirmed his thoughts. "T'Pol, I don't need to know."
As she opened her mouth again, he spoke once more. "I don't want to know. Just whatever it is, I hope you two can work it out."
Sliding along side him, he could tell she wanted to talk about it. He just wanted to catch a few Z's before tomorrow. To prove the discussion was over, he turned off the light nearest him, rolled over and went to sleep.
It all seemed … suspicious. Although he didn't know Archer's Vulcan that well, he knew the race well enough to know that they would never admit to feelings unless they were caught up in their mating cycle.
Feelings, emotions – they were things those pointy-eared logicians despised.
If anyone else had told him that, he would've called them a liar to their face, but the pink skin usually told the truth … not that Shran felt any better about the information.
Checking the personnel records, the data confirmed their story. They were married the same day he told the captain about Talas, which seemed odd. Everyone had been so busy, there didn't seem time to do anything personal. In fact, he'd been with Archer almost that entire day … and the Vulcan had always been in tow.
Getting up early to see the situation for himself, he took a shower, combed his hair, brushed his teeth and cleaned out his antennae.
At 0400, neither should be awake. Not even Vulcans typically get up this early.
Sneaking down the empty corridors, he stopped in front of Archer's room. As his finger poised over the numbers, which he'd memorized, he paused.
The pink skin and I have been through a lot of scrapes together. I hope I don't find out he's lied to me. I'd hate to kill him.
With only a small amount of trepidation for what he might find, he entered the numbers. The room was dark, but his eyes could see easily into it – thanks to thousands of years of evolution of an underground people. What he saw only moderately surprised him. Curled onto her side, T'Pol faced the door. Her eyes were shut and her breathing was slow and smooth. A hairy hand snaked around her waist and grabbed lazily at her belly, which was exposed.
Creeping closer, he could see Archer's chin nestled against her head and heard a light snore sucked through his nostrils. Even a cynical man like Shran had to smile. The only thing that disappointed him was that the two were wearing nightclothes.
As the Andorian was about to head back to his room, he heard a voice from across the room.
"Find what you were looking for?" she asked.
Vulcan hearing.
"For now," he said.
At the commotion, the captain stirred. As he became conscious he retrieved his arm awkwardly from T'Pol and sat up.
"What are you doing here?" Archer asked.
"It's my right to check on you."
"It is your right," T'Pol said.
Shran pulled up a chair, eying both of them. "You have to admit, it seemed like a coincidence that you two were married so close to the challenge … and that I only found out after Archer had accepted to fight me."
The pink skin agreed. "Yes, I can admit it must've looked a bit odd."
T'Pol sat up with the captain and suddenly put her fingers against his face in affection, which only received a small reaction from him that looked a little like shock.
"But, as you can see, we have deep feelings for each other."
Shran's eyebrows knitted together and then a smile worked onto his face. "How deep?"
Acting as if dared, the Vulcan raised her eyebrows only by centimeters and then quickly turned to press her lips against Archer's. After a few seconds of touching mouths, he backed away about to speak, when she kissed him again. Suddenly their bodies pressed into each other's with a little more passion and for a moment Shran wondered if they'd forgotten he was watching. Finally, when they split apart, Archer panted a little as he caught his breath the second time and his fingers caressed her cheek … stroking it gently.
"Hmmm," the Andorian said. "You're right, Archer, she is … sensual."
He noticed T'Pol's hand lightly touched the captain's cheek at the news.
Getting out of the chair, he headed to the door and looked back. The two were staring into each other's eyes, both a little caught up in the moment.
Lovebirds, thought the Andorian wistfully. It made him miss Talas even more.
Sensual? It's perhaps better that I do not ask. Undoubtedly Jonathan … the captain … used it as part of the ruse to trick Shran.
As the door shut behind the Andorian, she could tell Archer had a million questions; he usually did. Trying to anticipate them all, she spoke while taking her hand back slowly to her side. Almost with disappointment, she noticed his hand fell away as well.
"Shran would never have believed the story if I hadn't … entered your personal space."
Instead of introducing another question, he seemingly grew more confused. "It seemed like …."
"Yes?"
"Nothing."
"Jonathan?"
For a second, she stared into his eyes and for a second more he stared into hers.
"Never mind."
Kissing him had been strangely alluring in a way she hadn't at all expected, especially when she'd felt him not only submit, but actively participate in the ruse. As they'd parted and he'd touched her cheek, for a moment she thought she could sense his thoughts.
The words that had bubbled to the surface didn't necessarily make sense. Simultaneously, she'd heard two thoughts: "Yes" and "No."
Settling back into the moment, she asked a question she didn't quite understand. "Are you all right?"
Taking a long breath and staring down at the bed, he nodded. A chuckle left his mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Why are you laughing?" she asked.
The question brought an end to the deep rumble that left his throat. Leveling his eyes at her, he shrugged. "You have to admit, it's a bit … well … awkward. Kissing my first officer who's in my bed for a stranger."
She raised her brow. The thought about baiting him that she wasn't just his first officer, but his wife, crossed her mind. Refraining from making the statement, she let his remark stand.
After letting some of the merriment die away, he turned back toward her. "You okay?"
"Of course." After brushing a few locks from her face, she spoke quietly. "I presume that has appeased Commander Shran."
"Maybe," he said thoughtfully.
"At least for now."
"Right. At least for now."
The two stared at each other a little longer, until Archer finally said a few words. "We should probably get some sleep."
"We should."
"We have an early morning meeting tomorrow … today."
"Yes, we do."
The two gazed at each other for a few seconds more.
"Do you think Shran will come back … because maybe I can take the floor …?"
"He may come back. I've discerned over the years that Commander Shran is … unpredictable."
"Yeah. That's true."
"We should settle back into bed and sleep."
Blinking slowly, he opened his mouth as if to say something. She backed off only slightly, waiting for him to finally speak.
Finally, she decided he needed encouragement. "Yes?"
"Nothing. Never mind."
With that, he rolled over and shut off the light. She settled against her pillow and looked at the ceiling, expecting to hear his light snore begin. Instead, she heard silence and in the darkness wondered if he was still awake. For some reason, something was telling her not to confirm that theory, but to pretend she also was asleep.
Perhaps I'll ensure Chef asks his staff to bring more coffee to the meeting.
