Comforted
By Giggling Vulcan
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: It belongs to the murderers, not me. The closest I can get to revenge is hiding outside Bermaga's house with a big knife, or fan fiction. Don't sue a poor, mourning Tuckerite!
Spoilers: "Demons" and "Terra Prime"
Summary: This is sort of a fixer fanfic. In this one, Elizabeth's okay and isn't going to die. This is a take on how T'Pol might handle unexpected motherhood (if the "Hello. I am your mother." Line is any indicator) with a little of Trip's help and how she and Trip are going to deal with their situation.
T'Pol strode silently to sickbay after her duty shift ended. The hall lights were dimmed, simulating i Enterprise /i 's evening already. She must have worked longer than she'd meant to. Of all people, the captain had requested that she be the one to write the report to Starfleet concerning the events of Terra Prime. After sitting in the observation lounge for over an hour, trying to write it, she had given up. She found it difficult to concentrate, for her mind kept straying to the implications of the recent events she was ordered to write about.
She hypothesized that her lack of professional ability was partially a product of the bond she shared with Commander Tucker. His random thoughts were entertaining, to say the least, but difficult to control. It did not help any that he was currently in sickbay ogling at their child. The only logical course of action would be to confront the commander in sickbay and request that he either quell his enthusiasm or allow her to take part in it. Accomplishing the first would be nearly impossible, therefore the latter would be the best course of action, and it seemed to be more pleasing than the first.
The doors of sickbay swooshed open to reveal a grinning chief engineer, lovingly cradling a small baby in his arms. The grins on both of their faces were nearly identical.
Phlox was standing off in the corner with his menagerie, a very Denobulan grin taking up most of his entire face. T'Pol didn't know which Elizabeth found more amusing: Trip's antics, or Phlox's face. T'Pol raised a cursory eyebrow at the scene before her, but Trip could feel her amusement through the bond and could see it in her eyes.
"Hey, T'Pol! You're just in time. Phlox was going to let me feed her." Trip said with great zeal. T'Pol looked a bit uncomfortable. "What's the matter?" Trip asked her, looking at her stare at Elizabeth with an alien expression on her face. It was something Trip had hardly ever seen in her features, albeit how subtle the look was. Then, suddenly, he realized it. Fear.
He gave her a sly look. "You're afraid of her." He stated rather than asked, a smirk crossing his features.
T'Pol opened her mouth slightly before speaking, trying to calculate an appropriate response. "My experience with small children is…limited."
"You never had any experience with kids back on Vulcan? Any family you took care of?" He asked.
"My mother attempted to teach me to care for a family member's child when I was still living in her home." T'Pol stated. Trip waited for her to continue, but she simply stood with her arms crossed, staring him down.
"And?" He asked, pressing to hear the rest of the story.
"My domestic and childcare skills are…lackluster…to say the least." She replied, eying the child and sniffing the air simultaneously. Elizabeth giggled, a clear giveaway that she was being mischievous.
Trip sniffed the air cautiously, then looked down at Elizabeth. "Again?" He asked with a whine. He laid her down on a nearby biobed. "I'll tell you what, I think more comes out of this kid than goes in…" Pausing, he looked up at T'Pol. "Well, y'wanna take a shot at it?" He asked with a grin, seeing the obvious shock in her eyes.
"I…believe I will…observe." She stated, moving to stand a bit closer behind the commander.
Trip chuckled and began to remove the offending diaper. A wall of stench nearly knocked the two of them over. T'Pol recoiled in disgust, taking a few small steps backwards.
"That's my girl," Trip ground out, his eyes squinted as he hastily set into his task.
Phlox observed the proceedings from behind a nearby counter. He shook his head and continued grinning as he observed the giggling child, the miffed engineer, and the awkward Vulcan looking over his shoulder, as if she were using him as a shield. There was only one word to describe the scene: cute.
"You have ample experience." T'Pol stated, observing as he finished his task.
"I can't count how many diapers I've changed in my life. Nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters…there are tons of 'em. I guess it just comes along with being a Tucker."
"Indeed," she murmured reflectively, raising an eyebrow.
"There ya go!" Trip exclaimed, hoisting the freshly-changed baby into his arms once again. He picked up the soiled diaper and threw it into a disposal unit.
T'Pol looked on as he cooed to the child, making it grin even wider.
"Wanna hold her?"
T'Pol again looked slightly frightened. True, she had held Elizabeth while they were on Paxton's facility. It was baser maternal instinct in a dire time of need that told her to do so. Now that the adrenaline-induced panic was over, she had no idea how to properly hold a child…
She mentally shook herself. She was speaking so professionally and debating over caring for her own child! That was a factor that couldn't be denied. Elizabeth was her daughter.
Silently, she held out her arms to take Elizabeth. Trip handed her over, watching as T'Pol cradled their child in an awkward manner. Yet, the longer she held her, the more natural it became. Trip watched T'Pol's demeanor transfer from clinical Vulcan science officer to a tender mother, quite a sharp contrast. He watched in awe as she extended a finger and softly traced the shell of her daughter's pointed ear. He felt tears beginning to pool in his eyes. Elizabeth snuggled close against her mother and fell asleep.
"The hell you don't know how to take care of a kid…" He said quietly with a grin. T'Pol looked defiantly up at him
"Is would be logical to infer that my…skill…is due to natural maternal instinct"
Trip nodded and continued to smile slightly, looking down lovingly at Elizabeth who wrinkled her nose and shifted closer to T'Pol.
"She sure is a cutie…" Trip whispered, stepping closer to T'Pol for a better view.
"She is…aesthetically pleasing…" T'Pol murmured.
They stood in companionable silence, watching their daughter sleep. Suddenly, Trip's expression turned serious.
"What are we going to do?" he asked quietly. In all of the current events, the last time they'd spoken about themselves was their quick conversation in the hallway after the Orions had been dealt with. He'd been torturing himself over it sense, wondering if that kiss was to lure him into staying-what did she say?- 'for the crew's benefit'. He'd never gained the courage to ask her what she really wanted. Much less if what she wanted included him.
"Hmm?" she raised both eyebrows inquisitively.
"About Elizabeth. About…us…"
T'Pol's eyes shot up to look into his.
"I mean, Elizabeth's gotta grow up somewhere. And as her parents…and as…whatever we are to each other—"
"We are bondmates, Trip." T'Pol stated simply.
"Dammit, I know that, T'Pol! But I have to know if you want us to be. If you don't, then we can find some stuffy Vulcan priest to get rid of it. For once, just, please, tell me how you feel."
T'Pol lowered her eyes, staring at the floor in confusion.
Trip nodded, "That's what I thought." He began to walk towards the doors. He didn't want to hear the rest.
"Trip, wait!"
Yet, true to form, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. T'Pol was shocked at how tired he looked. She didn't know that she'd had such a detrimental effect on him, and it saddened her. How inattentive had she been?
"Trip," she began, quite unsure of herself. "There is no way for you to know how…difficult it has been for me to recognize how I feel about you. Emotions, especially strong ones, are trying for a Vulcan to experience, much less suppress. You have caused emotions in me that I have never experienced in this way before. They…frighten me. "Her voice began to crack and Trip began to walk back towards her. "But…the more they present themselves…the more I find that I…like being frightened."
Trip's face held deep concern, yet some amount of hope. He came to stand before her again.
"Trip," she said somewhat solidly, "I care for Elizabeth…and I care for you."
You could have knocked him over with a feather.
"I don't want to end the bond. I want to give Elizabeth a good life. She needs her father to have that, as do I."
Trip couldn't hold it in any longer. I tear of joy slid silently down his cheek as he pulled both T'Pol and the baby into a loving embrace. T'Pol buried her face in his neck.
"I'm so sorry, Trip." She whispered tears threatening to find their way to her eyes.
"It's okay T'Pol. Don't apologize. That's history. We're starting over again." He smiled and kissed the top of her head, then leaned his forehead against hers, observing the closest thing T'Pol could get to smiling flicker mesmorizingly in her olive eyes.
Then, Elizabeth screamed.
T'Pol pulled back in surprise, looking down at the crying child helplessly, at a loss for what to do.
"Allow me." Trip scooped the child out of her arms and bounced her up and down, cooing and hushing her. Soon, Elizabeth stilled and gurgled contentedly.
"Looks like someone just wanted a little attention!" Trip exclaimed, placing Elizabeth back in her crib. Phlox had requested she remain in sickbay until he could tell that she would be okay on her own and that she had recovered.
"One thing's for sure: she's got a set of healthy lungs! You should have heard her earlier." He couldn't seem to stop smiling. "Phlox says we can take her home tonight…wherever that may be." He ran a hand through his hair and stuck his tongue in his cheek. "So I guess she can come live in my quarters, at least for a while…if that's okay with you, of course." He hurriedly amended.
T'Pol looked deep in thought. "Don't you think that perhaps it might be more beneficial-for Elizabeth- if you both came to reside in my quarters for the time being?" she asked, sidling up in front of Trip once more, raising an eyebrow. He, in turn, raised one of his, placing his hands on her hips, pulling her in for one more hug.
"Highly." He whispered in her ear. He pulled back to search her eyes, slowly leaning towards her. When she didn't object, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. He kept an arm around her and turned to face the crib again. Sighing, he kissed T'Pol's temple. "I couldn't have asked for a better family."
"Neither could I." T'Pol reflected.
Trip's stomach growled loudly.
"How long has it been since you last ate?" She inquired.
"Umm…breakfast?"
Looking at the chronometer, she deadpanned, "It is nearly 20:00. I suggest you report to the mess hall."
"But—"T'Pol gave him the Vulcan stink eye, reiterating that the 'suggestion' was a command. "Fine. You win. But what about you?"
"I have already eaten. Go on. We will be fine until you return."
He kissed her brow gently and pulled a PADD out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I almost forgot! I promised to read to her. I'm sure she won't mind if you do to the honors."
"I will…try." She said.
He smiled at her one last time, tossed her a wink and exited sickbay.
T'Pol picked up Elizabeth and sat in a nearby chair, staring down at the PADD, then at Elizabeth with trepidation. Perhaps her suggestion wasn't such a good one after all.
Elizabeth stared back up at her with audacity that could only have been inherited from her father. Her eyes were so honestly innocent…T'Pol's suppressed Vulcan heart softened more the longer she gazed at her daughter. She looked up expectantly at T'Pol quite intelligently, her expression changing to one that nearly mirrored her mother's. There was no doubt who her parents were.
T'Pol pursed her lips for a moment, trying to discern how she should begin.
"I am going to read to you now." She stated formally.
Elizabeth clinically blew a spit bubble, which popped ceremoniously, its contents scattering over T'Pol's sleeve. T'Pol recoiled slightly. Elizabeth had quite a few bad habits that needed to be broken, despite her half-human physiology. Elizabeth observed her mother's reaction, then smiled a large, toothless grin. Illogically, T'Pol felt her stern disapproval quickly dissipating.
A deeply fatigued engineer loitered outside the doorway of sickbay, catching glimpses of the gentle scene unfolding within through the frosted glass doors. An amused smile caressed his care-worn face and he shook his head slowly. Food could wait, he was about to witness history.
Somewhere, the world was ending. The following event could only logically occur during some apocalyptic doom. Alone in sickbay, a Vulcan woman took a deep breath to gain strength from somewhere within herself as she looked down a PADD in her hand with intense trepidation. She was preparing herself for a monumentally historic moment that would alter the persona of her species for years to come. Haltingly she began to recite the age-old Human incantation that no Vulcan, living or dead, had ever dared to recite in the never-ending history of the universe:
"I…do not like green eggs and…ham. I do not like them, Sam…I Am…"
Fin.