Now, this wasn't normal earth-type rain. This was torrential golfball sized rain drops pounding hard enough to leave welts wherever it hit your skin. So naturally, the women ran. Hoshi grabbed her sleeping bag off of its spot on the ground without breaking stride and turned to head for the grove of trees a few feet behind T'Pol's tent. T'Pol stopped when she reached the entrance of the tent and noticed that Hoshi was still running. "Ensign," T'Pol shouted so she could be heard over the rain, "the trees will not provide sufficient cover from the storm."

"Neither will the tent!" Hoshi hollered back.

"I plan to reinforce it by attaching my survival bag to the outside."

"Use mine," Hoshi offered. "It's wet already!" She tossed it to T'Pol who caught it deftly. When Hoshi refused to concede, T'Pol considered ordering her, but decided a different method of persuasion would be more effective.

"Hoshi," she said, "I don't want you to be hurt." The linguist's was astonished. 'A first name and something downright considerate in the same sentence? I knew she'd been more... emotional lately, but this is downright weird.' Hoshi closed her mouth and quickly walked over to the tent where T''Pol was fastening Hoshi's survival bag to act as an extra shield from the downpour. Hoshi helped her tie the last fastening to the tent structure and their fingers touched. T'Pol shivered, blaming the feeling coursing through her on the cold rain.

Hoshi held open the flap of the tent as T'Pol ducked in, and followed her, both still barefooted from their swim. T'Pol retrieved a towel from her duffel bag and offered it to Hoshi. She declined, politely. "It's yours. Besides, humans stink, remember?" she grinned.

"You don't 'stink', ensign." T'Pol resisted the desire to add that she found the ensign to smell quite pleasantly. She held out the towel and continued. "I have dry clothing. You do not." She pressed the towel into Hoshi's hands and the smaller woman relented, wrapping it around herself and blotting her clothing to a state of semi-dryness. And promptly dropped the towel when T'Pol, turning sideways, reached behind her neck, unclasped her bodysuit, and pulled it off.

Apparently not noticing Hoshi's sudden lack of dexterity, the commander folded her uniform and placed it in the corner on the side of her bag to dry. T'Pol felt around the remaining clothes on her body (causing Hoshi's jaw to drop) and deeming her undergarments dry, she retrieved an emerald green silk-like pair of pajamas. She pulled them on, buttoning the shirt, and turned to face Hoshi, who by that time had regained some semblance of sanity.

Hoshi raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly to the side, silently questioning T'Pol's attire choice. T'Pol found this behavior rather endearing and somewhat, though she'd never use the word, cute. It was reminiscent of her childhood friend's pet sehlat when it wanted something. T'Pol, however, correctly interpreted Hoshi's meaning and answered, "I find it inefficient to put on a uniform less that 1.7 hours before an acceptable... I believe the term is 'bedtime'." Hoshi nodded understandingly and sat down on the opposite side of the tent. This movement still didn't put much distance between them, and Hoshi couldn't help but feel like she was cramping the older woman. It was, after all, her tent. T'Pol sat down smoothly where she stood, and as they sat in silence, both felt their thoughts turn to what could be happening on Enterprise.


Meanwhile, back at the ranch (er, ship)...

The ensign came into Captain Archer's quarters and was startled by the scene. The Captain and Commander Tucker were both in civvies, on the couch, drinking beer. 'Are you allowed to see your Captain in civilian clothing?' she wondered. 'Isn't there some kind of rule against that?' The captain stood up. "Ensign Karasek. Those modifications to the sensor array. Successful?"

"Yes, sir," she answered. A few days ago, the Captain had told her to reprogram the sensors to they didn't pick up local weather transmissions. Quite an odd assignment, but Celeste assumed Archer had his reasons.

"Great." Archer said to her. Turning to Trip, he added, "They have no idea," Looking back to the ensign, he continued, "You can remove them now. Nice work." The captain dismissed her and Celeste left, even more puzzled than before, if that was possible. She had no idea who the 'they' the captain mentioned was referring to, but if she was included, it was definitely accurate.

What she didn't know was that the 'they' Archer was referring to was T''Pol and Hoshi. And that the captain, in initial meetings with the Hintarrians, had acquired the weather forecast, so to speak, for the coming months. Evidently the Hintarrian weather systems were cyclic, repeating every 3.67 Terran months. It was a simple matter then to determine the time of the next scheduled storm at the remote location they had picked and sign the pair up for leave on that rotation. He had also, temporarily, removed all references to swimming or watersports of any kind from the Federation database. That one'd been tricky, making it so T'Pol'd never notice that they'd been there, yet storing them for reintroduction later on. He hoped T'Pol hadn't had the time to look too hard. And of course, what good is a rainstorm if they're staying in different tents? Hoshi had checked her equipment right before her shift on the morning of their departure. However, Trip overrode the lock on her quarters and removed several key components in the opening mechanism of the automatically unfolding tent. That way, they had mused, they'll have to share a tent. That deduction was followed by a typically enthusiastic round of self-congratulations and back slapping.

"Jon and Trip, Starfleet officers, strikingly handsome, Cupids of the Enterprise!" Archer crowed, shortly after the door had closed.

Trip agreed. "I bet they're cuddling in that tent right now!"

Not quite.