Plan B, 13

A/N: Thanks for hanging in there everyone. We're just about wrapping it up; I think the next chapter is the last one. I really appreciate the kind words and sweet sentiments.

Archer stared at Shran waiting for more information. With discomfort, T'Pol appeared behind the blue man offering a silent apology.

The gig was bound to be up at some point, the captain thought. Staring at his watch, he just couldn't believe how close they'd come to pulling it off.

Jhamel looked into the room blindly and offered a few words. "Shran, I don't think this is wise."

Shran's antennae hung down with sadness. "Probably not, but … his wife violated Andorian law and I saw her."

Trip shook his head. "It wasn't what you think."

Shran countered and then shot his eyes toward Archer. "I'm sorry, pink skin. I'll come collect you tomorrow at 0600. You should make peace with whichever god you hold dear."

As the Andorian walked out with the Aenar on his arm, Archer couldn't help but sag his shoulders and think perhaps fate had caught up with him. Ducking and dodging the law, he'd managed to squeak by so many times that he knew even he was pushing destiny.

I guess this is finally it.

His Southern friend ambled over to him and placed a weary hand on his back.

"Cap'n, I didn't know."

Hesitantly, Archer agreed. "I know."

Erika placed her hands on her hips. "What the hell is going on?"

An explanation escaped the captain. The moment that something that sounded logical or reasonable lighted his brain and he opened his mouth, T'Pol spoke up.

"I married the captain to save him from fighting Shran to the death."

"Married?"

Archer's hand pushed through his short-cropped hair. "Well, sorta."

"You're married?" Erika asked.

"Quite. And legally," Phlox offered from across the room.

At Archer's glare, the Denobulan went back to the crab puffs.

Erika gave a frown. "How long have you been married?"

"Nearly one week," T'Pol said. "Long enough for Captain Archer to avoid being executed … until now."

"Why will he be executed?" Erika asked.

Trip sighed loudly. "T'Pol hugged me."

Archer's eyebrows raised warily, waiting for his friends to divulge more information.

When T'Pol didn't speak, the engineer finally said something. "It was a hug between friends, but … I suppose she couldn't touch me."

The Vulcan clasped her hands behind her back. "Andorian law is quite specific. We've been following it for, roughly, the past week. According to a subsection, it indicated I should not have touched Commander Tucker. Captain, I take the accountability; it's my fault."

He shrugged. Pointless to be upset now.

"I'm sorry," she added, quietly.

Erika, her eyes wide and her eyes darting back and forth from all the speakers, finally said something.

"So, because Commander Tucker's not your husband, Jon can be sentenced to death?"

"Yes," T'Pol admitted.

"Is this what the Vulcan candles were about?" Erika asked to Archer.

"According to Andorian law, she's been living with me," Archer said.

"Living with you?" she asked.

"Living with me," he said.

"We're friends," T'Pol murmured.

"Right," Archer agreed, almost disappointedly as Tucker mimicked the words more sarcastically.

Archer watched Erika take a good long look at Tucker, T'Pol and then himself. Just as he was about to offer more information, she leaned over.

"I'm not about to let a fellow Starfleet captain get murdered."

"Rica," he said, using a nickname he hadn't in years, "it's not that easy. I accepted Shran's challenge to help the Andorian save face and support Starfleet. I can't back down … not now."

"Captain, what if we speak to Jhamel?" T'Pol said.

"She knows about our situation," Archer commented as if remembering.

"Yes. And she also realizes the actions I will take if anything happens to you." The moment she felt his eyes peruse her, she specified things. "As your first officer, of course."

The man produced a weak smile. "No. This has gone on long enough. I'll talk to Shran and tell him everything."

"You can't do that," T'Pol said.

Staring into her eyes, he made a flippant, but potent comment. "Sure I can. I'm the captain."

Before anyone else could chime in, he headed out the door. And almost equally as quickly, T'Pol flew to his heel to try and stop him.


Erika was no stranger to weird shit happening for unexplainable reasons. Her aunt, who'd helped raise her, was the kookiest woman in North Miami. She'd chart auras, provide advice she claimed was delivered from a psychic and read tarot cards. Actually, Erika always liked that about her aunt Maria – it made her different.

But, this business about Jon marrying a Vulcan and living with one to prevent himself from being killed was a bit much. The Archer she knew would rather be boiled in oil and forced to watch the Titanic remake – the movie they saw on their first date that he hated – than live with a Vulcan.

Things change.

The way he'd gone on about her even during their mountain climbing expedition made her wonder if he harbored feelings for her. He'd recommended she have a Vulcan as a science officer, indicated how vital her presence was and ended up telling a few stories about the pointy-eared little creature. At the time, she'd decided he was bragging about someone under his command, though … she hadn't remembered him boasting about any other officers, just T'Pol.

Jon has changed.

No longer the cockiest guy in Starfleet – next to A.G. (before he passed away) – he was now less sure of himself, less naïve about space exploration, seemed more like a military commander and seemed to carry an overwhelming sadness around with him as if the universe had chewed him up and spit him out.

When they'd dated, he'd smugly take her around town and conversed with strangers about the space program. The guy had known everyone in town and all the best (and most secluded) restaurants to go to.

Only a few months ago, when Jon had been on Earth, he'd been reserved, darkly sullen and only talked about work … and not the kind about which nebulas were the most beautiful; the information he'd shared was which weapon does the most damage, how many MACOs should accompany Columbia and stories about T'Pol.

Trip brought her back into the moment. "I don't know if there's anything we can do, but I sure as hell would like to try."

Erika shrugged. This was a new one for her, but there had to be something. "Maybe we can involve Starfleet?"

"Think it'll help any?" Trip asked.

"Although Starfleet doesn't prohibit dating, they generally frown on officers marrying."

"I thought it had never been done," Trip said.

Staring at him with a lopsided frown, she agreed. "Precisely."

It was then the two decided the best they could do is work with T'Pol to stop the captain.


T'Pol hurried behind Archer's long stride. She tried reasoning with him, but he was stubborn and convinced the only appropriate way to deal with the situation is talk with Shran.

"Jhamel would never allow Shran to execute you."

"When I accepted the challenge with Shran, I made a pledge … a vow that I obviously haven't lived up to. The charade has gone on long enough … too long. I never should've agreed."

"If it's because of the way you feel …."

"No." He stopped only for a second. "I just think the best its best I talk with Shran."

"I cannot permit this."

"You're a good first officer, but … this is the only way." Grinning, he said, "And if worse comes to worst … as Phlox said, I'm sure you'd be a 'decent and fair captain.'"

"Don't," she said, unamused.

"It's for the best."

"No." With the last comment her hand clenched around his arm in a vice grip; she knew would be difficult for him to break free.

"T'Pol, let go."

"I cannot allow you to die."

"Let go." With a little frustration, he bared down on her. "That's an order."

"I cannot."

"As my first officer you're obliged to follow my command. I'm giving you one, Commander."

"I refuse to follow it."

"T'Pol …."

"I can't allow you to die because … because …. I care for you."

Emotion crept over her features and almost gave way to a frown. With trembling lips, she eased her mouth into a straight line, but the fissure in her façade was already apparent.

He licked his lips. "I care for you, too. But, if you're my friend, you'll let me do this."

"Perhaps that is why I cannot carry out your command."

Squinting green eyes stared at her with confusion.

"I'm not simply your friend."

"I don't understand."

"I'm your wife."

He shook his head. "You're not my wife."

"Yes I am. We're married."

"I know Vulcans are committed to their mates, but that's not true of us," he whispered.

"Please, Jonathan."

He said something that struck a nerve for both of them. "We aren't mates. We're married in name only … like your marriage to Koss."

That stung. As he turned to walk down the hall, her voice finally said the words she'd been thinking all week … maybe longer.

"I care for you … deeply," she said. The words were mentioned quietly, but the impact of the moment made him stop in his tracks.

Staring at his back, she swallowed, flattened her lips together and then said a few more things.

"Our marriage has not been like the one I had with Koss."

He turned slowly, waiting for more information.

"Koss and I were barely acquaintances before our wedding. We were hardly friends."

Nodding, he hung his head down and for a moment, she knew he was hoping for something more. So, she gave it to him.

"Actually, I believe we're more than friends."

His eyes met hers. "What is our relationship?"

As she heard the clopping of a crewmen's boots, she waited. When the sound passed, she made a suggestion.

"Give me the chance to tell you. In private."

Glancing down the hall, his eyes wandered to the corridor he needed to take to get to Shran's room.

"Please?" she asked.

With a small frown, he took a heaving breath and nodded quickly.

Almost in relief, her features relaxed and she walked down the corridor with him into his room. The door slid shut and she stared into the mostly darkened room. As she glanced around, she attempted to resolve how to tell him how she felt.

After waiting for a few minutes, he finally prompted her, interrupting her train of thought.

"What did you want to say?" he asked.

Staring into his eyes, she knew how to broach the subject. She strolled over to him and placed her lips gently against his. His shock tingled down her spine and before thinking she opened her mouth against his. When their tongues touched, she reached behind his head and pulled him into her aggressively. Jonathan lightly pushed her away, probably to ask "why" or "what," but rather than answering or allowing him to break their embrace permanently, she kissed at his neck and stood on tiptoe to nibble his earlobes.

Guardedly, he drew her closer and whispered into her ear. "Shran's not behind me, is he?"

It was then she looked into his eyes. "You're asking me if I'm doing this to prove we're married?"

He gave a slight head nod.

She whispered back to him. "I am."

At the moment she delivered those words, she felt his body sag with disappointment. Tugging slowly at his zipper, she added a few more words.

"To you."

Bewilderment swept across his face and she touched his jaw. "I don't want us to be 'married' in name only, Jonathan."

He glanced down at the metal that tugged near his hips and stared up at her with disbelief.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She answered – deadpan. "I would've thought it was obvious."

As if a torrent of passion was released from a dam, he swept her into his arms and kissed her. Before he knew it, she'd pulled his coveralls to his hips and attacked the buttons on the black shirt he wore under it. She could tell he understood it was encouragement to unzip her uniform.

Finally, his shirt dropped off his shoulders and she took the opportunity to kiss at his chest.

Playfully, as they headed to the bed — where she'd reasoned it would be easier for them to continue Archer made a comment.

"You're not just doing this to convince me not to talk with Shran, are you?" he asked.

To answer the question she pushed him to the bed.


Trip watched Erika weave what he considered to be captain's magic. Within an instant, she was flipping open her communicator, notifying people (without revealing the predicament) about staying aboard and settled on finding Shran.

"Commander, I hope you can lead me there."

"Yes, ma'am" he said.

"Little formal, don't you think?" she asked, smiling. "You don't report to me for another three hours, Commander."

Bashfully, he averted his eyes to the floor and took off down the hall.

To be truthful, he felt incredibly guilty. He had no idea about this bizarre clause that meant T'Pol couldn't touch any man, but now that he knew he had to reason with the blue man or toss him in the brig.

He knew that Archer was headed there and things, if they saw the captain, were bound to heat up at the three of them ganging up against him.

As if second-guessing his comments, she added a few words. "I think Jonathan will try and admit everything."

Trip agreed. "The cap'n isn't the best negotiator."

Erika smiled. "Not by a long shot."

The two hurriedly left the party and marched over to Shran's room. Ringing the chime, Trip wondered what kind of mayhem would be going on. When Shran and Jhamel answered the door together, without any sign of either the captain of his first officer, both humans became confounded.

"Where's Cap'n Archer?"

Shran shrugged. "Preparing for tomorrow's execution, I suppose."

The Andorian was sharpening the blade that no doubt would cause Archer to die – it was small, but serrated.

"And his science officer?" Erika asked.

"I don't know where the Vulcan is," Shran said.

Jhamel intervened. "They haven't spoken to us since we left."

Trip decided to go ahead and proceed. "Listen, you gotta put a stop to this execution."

"Sorry, Tucker. The rules are the rules."

"T'Pol completely blew me off. She isn't interested in me. She's … in love with … her husband."

As Erika turned her head with mild interest at his comment, Jhamel nodded.

"I've been trying to tell him that," the Aenar said.

Erika played the part of peacemaker. "Look, if Commander Tucker indicated the gesture wasn't romantic, isn't there a provision in your law? What if a brother and sister hugged?"

Shran squinted his eyes with skepticism. "They are hardly brother and sister."

Trip vigorously nodded in agreement. "Yeah, well the hug was more like that though – friendly …."

Shran's antennae became erect. "Archer said you were intimate with her."

"That was a long time ago," Tucker said.

Erika barely twitched an eyebrow at the comment.

Jhamel agreed. "Although she thinks highly of Commander Tucker, that relationship has ended."

Trip hung his head to his chest, pained by the Aenar bringing up that sore subject.

"Andorian law does say that the one who made the challenge can waive the execution if he's convinced about the marriage," Shran said.

Erika asked, "Then you have leeway?"

The Andorian nodded.

"Perhaps you can discuss this with Jon tomorrow, instead of executing him?"

To add to the pressure, Jhamel touched his arm and nuzzled her face into his shoulder. The Andorian didn't exactly agree, but didn't disagree either, which Trip took as good news.

Erika smiled. "That's all we wanted – a chance for Commander T'Pol to explain."

"I'll visit him," Shran said.

As the engineer was about to ask a follow up question, he saw Erika head out the door.

"You did well, Tucker," she said.

"Trip," he corrected her. "I'm not under your command for another two hours."

"That's true."

When they reached the Mess Hall again, it was completely deserted. Even most of the food had been removed from the table.

"Too bad everyone left the party," Trip said with a sigh.

Erika turned to him. "Did you know they created something called an observation deck for the Columbia. You can see the stars from there. And, it has a small cafeteria like a diner adjacent."

"You inviting me aboard?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I have a bottle of champagne I've been waiting to open. Something tells me welcoming my new chief engineer would be the right time."

Giving a grin of his own, he decided he wouldn't exactly watch water polo with the woman, but he could definitely respect … and admire her.


Shran paced around his room. Jhamel had tried to explain that the Vulcan really loved Archer and the two were married, but the Andorian had to ask the two. The evidence thus far had all added up to one thing: there was an awful lot of deceit going around.

He didn't want to kill Archer … especially in front of his crew through a ritual that would make him slice the captain's stomach open and rip out all the soft matter that lie behind his belly. Although Shran had seen a lot of battle and had killed many men, he couldn't imagine torturing someone like that … particularly not Archer.

"I know you care for him." She lay her head on his shoulder and added more. "Actually, I think you care for both of them."

The Vulcan? Never!

She nibbled on his neck and allowed her antennae to stroke the area around her soft kisses. Obviously, the woman (like all women) was savvy to her womanly wiles. It was definitely deteriorating his will.

Curling a hand around his waist, she murmured into his ear. "Maybe you can wait until … tomorrow to question them. I can think of other things we could do right now."

He couldn't disagree.

Taking a chance, he kissed her lips and was happy when she returned the embrace eagerly.

"Come to bed with me," she whispered.

He kissed her more hotly, a fire rushing through his icy veins. As the two made their way to the cramped bunk, just as they had earlier than day, and stripped each other, Shran thought in the back of his mind, he'd visit Archer that night.

No sense putting it off until tomorrow morning. I still have the pass codes.

After a couple of hours and when Shran heard the gentle and steady breathing of Jhamel's sleep, he slipped back into his clothes and did something he hadn't in a night or so … headed to Archer's room.

Creeping down the hall, he entered the pass codes for Archer's room. Staring into the darkened room, trying to adjust his eyes, he tried to determine whether they were there. Finally, his keen eyesight adjusted and he saw into the room as the door slid shut behind him.

Two figures looked like they were wrestling under the covers. As he took a step closer he realized a few things: one – Archer's shoulders was bare; two – he was hovering over the Vulcan while kissing her and staring into her eyes; and three – the Vulcan's eyes were squeezed shut.

And then his suspicions were confirmed.

"Oh God," Archer said, louder than a whisper.

The Vulcan's hands reached around his head and she arched into him as she kissed him deeply. As the covers fell away with her movement, the Andorian realized the moment was intimate … quite intimate.

The Vulcan and pink skin are having sex!

"Jonathan," she whispered. It was barely loud enough for him to hear, but sounded like someone calling out to a lover.

They don't know I'm here.

The Andorian decided that what Commander Tucker and the pink skin's ex-girlfriend indicated was probably true; Archer and the Vulcan were in love. Just as everything began to reach an uncomfortable head, Shran backed up (too allow them some privacy) and accidentally smacked into the wall. The couple broke apart and clutched the sheets to them. Archer, clearly attempting to catch his breath, tried to form some words (without much luck); the Vulcan beat him to it.

"Why are you here?" she asked. She sounded as angry as he'd ever heard a Vulcan.

Shran frowned. "I wanted to ask you and the pink skin some questions to decide whether or not to kill him tomorrow."

Regaining some of his composure, Archer sneered. "Get out!"

The Earthling wasn't going to bully a member of the Imperial Guard!

"I said I had questions!" Shran said.

Clenching his jaw, which the Andorian knew meant the pink skin was particularly mad, Archer spoke harshly.

"If you don't get the hell out, I'm gonna toss you out!"

Puffing out his chest, Shran dared him to get out of bed.

T'Pol threw her arm in front of Archer, intercepting the man as he strained to meet the challenge, and then calmly asked a question.

"What do you want?"

"What!" Archer said.

"Jonathan, he's here." Turning slightly toward him, she whispered in his ear and he seemed to begrudgingly accept the Andorian's presence.

"Fine," he said, curtly.

That's more like it!

"So, Vulcan, you held Tucker as a friend?"

"Yes." She tipped her eyebrow and glanced sideways at Archer. "The commander admitted his affection for me. I had just revealed I did not feel the same way."

That seems to match adequately.

Fixing her gaze back at Shran, she continued. "I know from my past relationship with Tucker … and understand from his friendship, he needed comforting."

"I didn't think Vulcans would console someone," Shran said.

"We're logical beings … emotionless for the most part, but not cruel. Even I know humans sometimes need the reassurance and intimacy of touch."

"Intimacy like now?" Shran asked, smiling.

It caused the human to glower.

"No. This is a closeness between two people who care deeply for each other. It is the logical conclusion to our feelings and our attraction: physical unity."

The wording, made Archer kiss her temple lovingly. Instead of shooing away his affection, she closed her eyes briefly as if relishing it.

I've obviously been wrong about these two.

Snapping out of a something like a daydream, Archer stared at Shran.

"T'Pol, I don't want to lie to Shran anymore."

"No," she said. The plea to stop sounded almost emotional.

The Andorian noticed he met his eyes.

"Almost everything you've accused us of has been true. We married because of the challenge. She moved in here to eliminate your suspicions. But, strangely enough by living together and interacting like a married couple, we realized we were already in love. I was jealous about Trip …."

T'Pol whispered. "Don't."

"I might as well tell him everything," Archer said, caressing her cheek. "Shran, I've lied to you."

The door chime rang, something Shran hadn't heard since he'd boarded Enterprise. As Archer mumbled something about Grand Central Station, Jhamel poked an antennae across the threshold.

"Come on in," Shran said.

"I got a better idea. Why don't you take Shran out with you," Archer said. It wasn't quite a yell, but it was heading in that direction.

The Aenar seemed uncomfortable. "Shran, why are you bothering them? They've obviously come from love's tangled embrace."

Shran softened a little; she had a way of doing that to him. "I had to make sure the pink skin wasn't deceiving me. It seems my instincts were right. He was just in the middle of a confession …."

"A confession?" she asked.

"I told him everything Jhamel," Archer said.

Confusion set onto the Aenar's face as her antennae moved haphazardly.

"Everything?" she asked.

"Yes. I didn't think it was fair to lie to him," Archer confessed.

Shrugging slightly, she gazed into space. "Lying about what?"

"You know," he said.

"No," she whispered.

"About how T'Pol and I aren't married."

T'Pol corrected him. "We are."

He gave a small smile. "We are, but … that we married to avoid the challenge."

Jhamel beamed. "Captain, you don't need to fabricate tales to encourage us to leave you and your wife alone."

"No." Puzzled, he furrowed his brow. "T'Pol said you knew about everything."

Shran whipped his head toward the lovely creature next to him. Shyly, she shook her head. "I read that he is deceiving you now. He wants to continue making love with his wife and hopes this will encourage us to leave him alone."

For a moment the blue man wondered. And then staring at her, he figured she must be telling the truth. The little albino was innocent and naïve – utterly incapable of falsehoods. Besides, he'd witnessed the two acting like dragnars and caressing each other.

They are in love … just like Jhamel and me.

The Aenar wrapped her hand around Shran's and lead him out. As the door was closing the Andorian overheard something, even with his poor hearing.

"Where were we?" the Vulcan asked.

"I'm not really in the mood to … oh."

"Are you certain you don't want to continue?"

"Mmmmm," he said as the sheets rustled. "Maybe we can recapture the moment."

TBC