The Cultural Addition
a
Star Trek: Enterprise - based fan fiction
by: Joycelyn Solo

Summary: An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the Enterprise and the future of Humanity.
Author's note: This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.
Special Thanks: To Stub the Beta Wonder!
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

Chapter Ninteen - Tomato stains on my heart

Hoshi didn't know when she became the unofficial Enterprise party planner, but when they got back to Earth she was going to send Captain Archer an invoice for all the impromptu crew gatherings he'd placed her in charge of.

News of the pending nuptials of Command Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol had traveled the decks of Enterprise almost as quickly as the announcement of the pair's pending parenthood months before -- and it wasn't long before the linguist found herself coordinating the ceremony and reception.

In addition to the event being a celebration of the pair's union, the captain hoped it would be a nice diversion for the crew before encountering the Xindi. Though morale had been elevated with the goal of making contact with the Xindi in sight, the wedding would be a chance for everyone aboard to relax in a festive atmosphere before readying themselves for their coming task.

And -- the captain had stressed this repeatedly -- Hoshi had to accomplish all this with a limited use of ship's resources. Considering they were in the middle of oft-hostile territory and preparing for a potential war, those resources were indeed scarce.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to do this," Hoshi complained, taking a seat across from Malcolm in the midst of the Mess Hall lunch crowd.

Malcolm looked up from the PADD, graced Hoshi with a brief glance, then returned to his reading. "What don't you know how to do?"

"How am I supposed to plan a wedding for T'Pol and Commander Tucker when neither the bride nor groom is being very helpful?"

Malcolm, not bothering to look up from his PADD, shrugged. "Maybe you should let them plan the wedding themselves. It was their idea, after all."

"Actually, I get the impression T'Pol doesn't really care about the ceremony. She seems to just be going along with it for Commander Tucker's sake." Hoshi took a stab at her salad, the frustrated force of her fork launching a tomato at Malcolm.

Malcolm looked up as the tomato hit him in the chest, leaving a red splotch on his otherwise pristine uniform. The lieutenant looked down at the mess, sighed, and reached for his napkin. "Maybe you're putting too much thought into this. If we were on Earth, I wouldn't be surprised if the commander wanted a backyard barbecue to celebrate his marriage."

"I don't think T'Pol would really go for a barbecue," Hoshi said, dismissing the idea. "Besides, Chef probably wouldn't agree to grilling in the middle of the Mess Hall. I need something we can easily do right here on the ship."

Malcolm continued rubbing tomato remnants from his uniform, his intention focused on blotting and not rubbing the stain into permanence. The pattern of the tomato stain caught Hoshi's eye, reminding her of one of those Hawaiin-style shirts the commander wore.

"Malcolm!" Hoshi exclaimed, startling Malcolm into dropping the water he'd been using to clean himself onto his lap.

Hoshi ignored the security officer as he jumped from his seat, ice cubes falling to the floor and revealing a large wet spot from his abdomen to his knees. The linguist also jumped from her seat -- her enthusiasm a result of the brilliant idea she'd had and not the instant sensation of cold water on her sensitive areas. "Malcolm Reed, you're a genius!"

Malcolm didn't feel much like a genius, but he didn't say anything as Hoshi stole his PADD and began making notes on it. "I've got to talk to Chef," she said, half to herself and half to the sputtering lieutenant. "I wonder what type of plants Pam Isley can get me? Geology probably has sand I can use. Oh, this is going to be great!"

Malcolm's PADD clutched in her hand, Hoshi practically skipped out of the Mess Hall in her excitement. The security officer could do very little but stare as she ran off with his crew schedule and left him with his soggy uniform.

- - -

"Hey, Malcolm," Trip called, jogging along the corridor to catch up to his friend. Stopping along side him, the engineer did a double-take at the large red stain on the security officer's usually immaculate uniform. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I believe you did," Malcolm grumbled, quickening his pace in the direction of his quarters.

"I did?" Trip asked. "What did I do? I've been in Engineering all morning."

"All this talk of your wedding is making everyone crazy," Malcolm explained. "Hoshi is a walking disaster because she's trying to plan the festivities."

Trip nodded in sympathy, though he wasn't quite sure what was Malcolm was saying. "Hoshi did this to you? You should make her do your laundry."

Malcolm grumbled, "I'm still waiting on the t-shirt I lent her during the Suliban fiasco a year ago." It wasn't truly the engineer's fault that his uniform was dirty, but he was a convenient target.

The two men walked in silence until they reached the security officer's door.

"If you don't mind, I have to change before I go on duty."

"Actually," Trip said, following Malcolm into the cabin. "I wanted to ask you a favor."

Malcolm looked suspicious. "What kind of favor?"

"I was wondering if you'd stand with me at the wedding?"

"You want me to be your best man?" The lieutenant's irritability was quickly replaced with surprise. "What about the captain?"

"The Cap'n's performing the ceremony," Trip answered, then realized it was possibly not the best response. "Not that you're second choice or anything."

"That thought hadn't occurred to me."

"Does that mean you'll do it?"

"I'm not going to have to plan anything and go crazy like Hoshi, am I?"

Trip smiled widely. "Don't worry. Hoshi can be crazy all by herself."

Malcolm snorted at that.

- - -

While some members of the crew were preoccupied with plans for the pending nuptials, Travis was hard at work in the Command Center.

Seated at the console where he'd taken residence hours earlier, the young pilot glanced up from his display screen to address the Vulcan science officer across the room. "How reliable do you think this information is, Sub-Commander?"

T'Pol looked up from her own console and tilted her head slightly. Not that he'd minded the severe protocol of the pre-pregnancy T'Pol, but this maternal T'Pol just seemed...softer, somehow. Whether the change in demeanor was from the pregnancy or her increased intimacy with Commander Tucker, Travis knew that more and more crew members -- even those who'd never really taken a liking to the the Vulcan -- had noticed.

After a moment of hesitation, as though measuring her response, T'Pol answered, "Though I am not certain how far we should be trusting Rajiin, her information does seem correct when compared to the data we have already collected on the Xindi."

Travis nodded. He felt the same way. He'd never gotten close enough for Rajiin to work her mojo on him and, from an outside perspective, he saw her actions as pure betrayal of a trust that was bought with lies. Travis was surprised the captain had so quickly welcomed the alien woman back aboard the ship. Rajiin had been more than helpful since her return, but the ensign couldn't help but wonder if she was being too helpful.

"There is a chance that Rajiin would know we would attempt to validate her information, "T'Pol continued, voicing Travis' own doubts. "We cannot be assured of her loyalty, no matter how accommodating she seems to be."

"You don't trust her, either."

"Though she has been helpful since coming aboard, Rajiin has given us little reason to trust her."

Travis turned his chair so he faced the first officer. "Do you think maybe she's being too helpful?" Travis asked, leaning forward. "Like she's setting us up again?"

"The thought had occurred to me," T'Pol admitted. She placed a hand over the increasing swell of her abdomen. "I think it is important that Rajiin believe we do trust her. It is more likely that any secrets she may be hiding would be more quickly exposed if she were at ease with members of the crew."

Travis nodded in understanding. "You want to lull her into a false sense of security."

"Humans have a saying, I believe. 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.'" T'Pol stood. "If you will excuse me, Dr. Phlox is expecting me in Sickbay."

"I want to finish aligning these maps Rajiin provided with the ones from the Xindi database."

- - -

"Hey there, Darlin'." Trip smiled widely at his favorite Vulcan as the turbolift doors parted to reveal a waiting T'Pol.

"Good morning, Commander," T'Pol returned, stepping into the turbolift with him.

"I thought you were going to drop the 'commander' and call me Trip," he teased. "We're not even on duty."

"Nicknames should be reserved for the privacy of our quarters, Commander."

Trip frowned at her. "It's a good thing you're cute, otherwise I might be upset."

"I do not find you aesthetically displeasing, either."

Trip grinned widely. "I bet you were a cute kid, too."

T'Pol arched an eyebrow at him. "Vulcan parents do not label their children as 'cute.'"

"Aw, c'mon, T'Pol. Even if your parents didn't say it out loud, I bet they thought you were adorable. All kids are cute." He thought a moment. "Well, most kids, anyway."

T'Pol arched an eyebrow at him. "Need I remind you the importance of not applying your Human ideal of aesthetics to alien cultures?"

"Alien nothing. I was just thinking about my cousin Byron's kid. Man, he grew up all right, but I've never seen such an ugly baby." To emphasize his point, Trip shuddered.

"I trust you refrained from sharing this observation with your cousin?"

"Well of course I did. It wasn't Byron's fault his wife carried an ugly gene."

"How do you know it was not your cousin who carried the 'ugly gene'?"

"There's never been an ugly baby in the history of the Tucker family." He smiled widely. "We were all beautiful babies, myself included."

T'Pol declined to comment as the lift continued its journey toward Sickbay.

"So who do you think the kids will look like? I mean, Phlox said there's that chance they might not even look like a Human or a Vulcan."

"Will it matter?"

"No," Trip answered quickly, his hand touching hers. "Whoever -- or whatever -- they look like, they're still our kids and I'm gonna love 'em."