Chapter 6:

"Captain's log, July 15, 2154." Jon paused in his recording, flexing his hand slightly and thinking about the events of the past two hours.

"T'Pol's words to me lingered in the back of my mind for weeks. It was hard to accept that I might have changed so drastically, I didn't want to admit that I saw it myself. Instead, I avoided thinking about it, until it became painfully obvious how right she was.

"It all started when we first met the Cilerite ship…"

"Captain, there's a ship coming out of warp just in front of us," Travis said just as it materialized on the view screen.

"They're hailing us Captain," Hoshi informed him.

"Put it through," he said, rising from his seat. The anxiety in his system was uncomfortable: a year ago, he'd have been excited to meet a new species. But now, too many things had happened for him to believe all first contacts would be pleasant experiences. He could only hope this one would be.

"Unknown vessel, this is the Cilerite ship Kumari. You are trespassing in Cilerite territory, leave immediately or you will be fired upon."

Jon and T'Pol exchanged startled glances while Malcolm did a quick scan of their ship. "They are charging weapons sir," he confirmed.

"Kumari, this is Captain Jonathan Archer of the Earth ship Enterprise. We apologize, we were unaware this section of space belonged to you. We'll be leaving…"

"Captain," Malcolm interrupted, nodding at Hoshi to cut off the transmission. "Two Cilerites just beamed aboard Enterprise

"Did they really?" Jon asked, arching a brow in surprise. "Re-open the channel Hoshi," he ordered.

"I assure you, we are more than willing to leave your system. It is unnecessary for you to…"

"We have two members of our crew on board your ship, and we are beaming over two members of your crew as we speak," the Cilerite captain interrupted. "They will remain on the respective ships until we have escorted you out of our space, and then they will be returned to their correct ships."

"They've cut the transmission sir," Hoshi said then.

"Get them back on, tell them they can't just kidnap two of our people like that," Jon demanded.

Hoshi tried, but shook her head. "No response sir."

"Malcolm?"

"Yes sir…We are missing two crewmembers."

"Cap'n?" Trip's voice came over the comm.

"We've got a situation on our hands Trip, whatever it is will have to wait."

"Yeah, I can see that," Trip muttered, looking around Engineering at the slightly panicked look on his officers' faces. "I just wanted you to know that Ensign Walters disappeared, I don't know where she went off to. I don't mind telling you that we're a little nervous down here, people don't usually just go missing like that."

"It's a long story Trip, I'll tell you about it later—after she's back. Archer out."

Jon's jaw clenched while he contemplated his possible actions. He couldn't just let these people get away with taking two of his crew, for no apparent reason. "Travis," he ordered, his decision made, "take us out the way we came in. Malcolm, take me to our visitors," he said grimly.

"With pleasure sir," Malcolm said, stepping toward the lift.

"Sub-commander, you have the bridge," Jon said, following him.

"Sir, may I ask what you intend to do?" she asked in a low voice only he could hear. The rigid set to his jaw was the only answer she needed, but she wanted him to say to it, to hear the words coming from his own mouth. Maybe then he'd realize how foolish he was being.

"No you may not," he answered curtly before the door shut.

"Well Malcolm, I think we need to show these Cilerites what happens when you kidnap a human, don't you?" Jon suggested, a hard glint in his eye.

"That sounds like an excellent idea sir," Malcolm agreed, not knowing what his captain had in mind.

It soon became all too clear to him. When they reached the place where they had beamed in, they were surprised to find two unarmed males. "We are your bond servants until your ship reaches neutral space," one said.

"Bond servants? You mean like slaves?" Jon asked quietly, the muscle in his jaw tensing and relaxing.

"In a sense," the other agreed, nodding his head. "We are yours to command. If you choose to stay in our space, we will stay on your ship, and your people will stay on ours."

"Consider it extra motivation to leave," the first one said lightly.

"Motivation?" Jon roared, all restraint lost. "I didn't need any motivation to leave, I was perfectly willing to go after you asked. But no, you had to take two of my people!"

"That's the way we Cilerites do things."

"Well it's not the way we humans do things," Jon sneered. "And what's with this slave business? Are you telling me that my people will be ordered around by yours while their on your ship?"

"The term bond servant is meant to describe a commitment between the two ships, that the one will leave," the aliens tried to explain. "There is no true servitude involved."

"No, only capture and ransom," Jon retorted. "I ought to…"

Wordless to express his rage, he instead grabbed one of the aliens by his color and pulled his fist back. Malcolm, who'd been watching with growing unease, reached out quickly and pulled his hand away. "No sir, you can't do that," he insisted.

"Why not?" Jon argued, not letting go of the alien. "They took two of ours, do you really want to let that go unpunished?"

"No sir, I don't," Malcolm said. "But if we injure these two, what are our chances of getting Walters and Manetti back? They were sent here in a gesture of good faith, as misguided as it was. Let's not abuse that."

Slowly, Jon's grip on the other man's collar lessened, until he was able to squirm away. "Take them to the brig until Walters and Manetti are back," he ordered, looking away.

"Captain," one of the aliens interjected as they were led away, "if we had known you would feel so strongly about this, we would not have done it. It is simply the way we have always done things."

"Well, you might want to look into some new customs," Jon retorted before walking away.

"They kept their word," Jon mused, still doing his log entry. "Within an hour, we'd reached the border of their space. No sooner had we crossed it than the exchange was made, ours for theirs."

He sighed, flexing his hand again and thinking about how close he had come to hitting that unarmed man. "T'Pol was right," he concluded. "My… darker side is getting the better of me. "I wasn't thinking about first contact or treaties at all, the only thing on my mind was getting my people back.

"Of course, making sure they were safe should have been my main focus. However, there are right ways and wrong ways to do things. I was using the wrong way."

He paused again, frowning when he heard what he had just admitted. It was true, but some things were too personal to go in a captain's log. "Computer pause," he ordered. "Erase the whole entry."

With his confession deleted, he instead chose a more personal means of therapy. Yes, the incident needed to be dealt with, but not by Starfleet. There was only one person he could think of who could help him become the man he used to be and wanted to be again.

"Come in," T'Pol invited when her chime rang. She knew exactly who was outside her door, she had been waiting for his visit. Today's events had been just what she had known would happen if he did not deal with what the Expanse had done to him, she just hoped he could see it too.

"You were right," he said the instant he could see her. "You were right about me. I changed, the mission changed me. I don't even think twice anymore before doing things I never would have considered doing before… what happened to me T'Pol?" he questioned, kneeling on her floor.

"You were forced to change by the circumstances around you," she said in an almost consoling tone. The confusion and anguish she heard in his voice tore at her heart, and she had an irrational need to assure him that he was still a good man. "It does not mean that you changed on the inside, but there are some things that need to be dealt with."

"That's the understatement of the year," he said with a snort of half-hearted amusement. "I almost violated every code of first contact I've made for myself, just because I couldn't control my anger. I can see why you hate human emotion so much," he said with self-derision.

"I have discovered, Captain, that emotion has it's values… as long as you control it instead of letting it control you."

She paused to let her statement sink in before continuing. "In the last year, you have let your emotions rule all your decisions. At the time, it was only natural, since our mission had such an emotional basis. There was no way you could have separated your feelings about protecting your planet from your mission to do so, and we all accepted that.

"But as time went on, your emotions began to control everything… it became almost an addiction for you, just as it was for me."

"I think you're right," he agreed slowly. "I had to turn my logic off, because if I'd thought about what I was doing, I wouldn't have had the stomach for it. My emotions just kind of took over."

"Kind of?" T'Pol echoed, raising a brow in question.

"Okay, they really did," Jon admitted.

"Yes, they did. As I said, at the time it made sense… we were in a dangerous situation. That is not the case anymore Captain," she told him, piercing him with a gaze. "We are no longer in constant danger. You can afford to think about what you're doing, and Enterprise cannot afford to have you not think about it. We need our practical captain back."

"Practical?" Jon asked, mimicking her raised brow. "I never thought I'd see you call a human practical," he teased, eager to let the serious subject go for a moment.

"I did not say logical captain, I said practical," she countered. "I am willing to admit that humans can be practical, when it suits their purposes."

"How gracious of you," he said, rolling his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized how far their friendship had come, if they were able to tease each other about their respective heritages. At one point, any comment by the other would have automatically sent defenses flying. Now they knew when comments were made in jest. "Hmm, a T'Pol who truly appreciates a joke… her new emotions might have some benefits after all."

"Captain, we are straying from the subject at hand," she chided gently.

"Do we have to talk about it anymore?" he said, almost whined, eager to put the day's events behind him.

"I believe there is still much to discuss," she insisted.

"You're probably right," he said with a sigh, leaning back against the floor. "But can it wait for another day? I know I've been bad," he said.

"Jonathan," she said, using his first name as she did only when they were discussing personal issues, "you are acting like a child."

The reprimand had the opposite effect from what she desired—he started laughing. "I'm sorry T'Pol," he said when he saw her startled look. "It's just that… you sounded just like my mother when you said that, and I had a sudden picture of you with a small human child… do you think you'd have the patience for that?" he asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"I hardly think a human should be questioning a Vulcan's capacity for patience," T'Pol reminded, hiding the sudden softness she felt at the thought of having a human child to care for.

Jon looked at her, shocked. "Was that a smile I just saw?" he teased, watching as she quickly schooled her expression.

"I don't know what you are talking about Captain," she said briskly. "Vulcans do not smile, it is a sign of emotion."

After three years, they knew the exchange by rote. However, this time he paid close attention to her face, knowing that for the first time, emotion was playing a role in her life.

Feeling his scrutiny, she tried to hide her sudden unease, but he caught a glimpse of the vulnerability lurking in her eyes. "Would you like to talk about it?" he offered gently.

"About what?" she asked, choosing to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about.

"About your emotions, and the way they're changing you."

"You are mistaken," she bluffed. "I have not changed, I have merely… adapted to a new force in my life."

"That's bull T'Pol, and you know it," he told her bluntly. "There is no way you can convince me that going from completely managing away all emotion to experiencing them in full hasn't changed you. Remember, I've had to deal with those emotions all my life. I know what they can do to you."

"Do you?" she asked, a faint plea in her voice.

"I do," he confirmed with a nod. "And I believe our original deal was that you would help me and I would help you… if you want me to that is," he added hastily, not wanting to intrude on her privacy.

She tilted her head as she looked at him, considering his offer. "I need to talk about them with someone I can trust," she thought, remembering the advice her older self had given. "There is no one I trust more than the captain, and he has indicated that he would appreciate my help in recovering some of his former personality. Perhaps this would be mutually beneficial."

"Very well Captain, I accept your offer to help," she said formally, still slightly uncomfortable with the idea of actually working through emotion instead of shoving it under the rug.

"Great!" he said enthusiastically, then narrowing his eyes in question. "How do you want to do this?" he asked.

"Perhaps for the moment it would be best if we simply confronted each other when we felt it necessary," she suggested.

"Agreed. Long counseling sessions and talks about our feelings just doesn't seem to be our style."

"Precisely. And in light of that, may we return to the earlier topic of your behavior today?" she questioned.

"This is going to take a while, isn't it?" he groaned, reclining on the floor.

"Only if you persist in avoiding the subject Captain," she told him archly.

"Jonathan. If we're going to be… accountability partners, you have got to call my by my first name T'Pol—and not just when you think I'm acting like a child," he tossed out with a grin.

"Very well Jonathan. Since you have no problems addressing my by my given name, it would be redundant to offer the same privilege."

"Does that bother you?" he asked, suddenly concerned that he'd been insulting her for three years without even realizing it.

"No, it is appropriate for our relationship. You are the superior, as such it is your prerogative to address me by my name, whereas I need permission to do likewise with you."

"Well, you've got my permission now," he told her with a grin, amused by her formal language.

"Are you attempting to distract me from the topic at hand sir?" she questioned severely, suddenly realizing that they had strayed once more from the events of the day.

"Would I do a thing like that?" he asked innocently.

"I believe you are just devious enough to do so," she muttered.

He sighed, straightening up a little. "Well, I might," he allowed. "But really T'Pol, I don't see that there's much left to talk about. We can only say the same thing so many times before it gets repetitious. I know I shouldn't have approached the Cilerites with aggression, I know it could affect all future contact with them. I know that the reason I did so was because of the way I changed in the Expanse."

"But what is your plan to keep from doing so in the future?" she countered, a challenge in her eyes.

"My plan? My plan is to let you tie my down to the bridge the next time I feel like doing something stupid," he told her, laughing when her eyebrows flew up to her hairline. "I'm only kidding T'Pol, well half kidding anyway. Seriously, my plan is to listen to you next time. You were right, I should not have gone down there, not in the state I was in."

"And how exactly am I to keep you on the bridge?" she asked, finding a serious flaw in his logic. "You are the captain, I cannot order you to remain where you are."

He thought for a moment. She was right, neither she nor anyone else could truly stop him from doing whatever he wanted to do. However, today had shown him that he did need someone to hold him to a higher standard; an accountability partner, as he had phrased it earlier.

"Remind me of our deal," he said finally. "And if it doesn't look like I'm going to stop, ask to talk to me in the ready room. When no one else is present, you can order me around as much as you want. You always have."

"I do not order you around," she said, affronted. "I merely point out times when your decisions are perhaps not the wisest ones you could make."

"Ah, is that what the Vulcans call insubordination?" he asked, taking pleasure in ribbing her lightly.

She rose quickly, turning to look out the window. "If you feel I am lacking in proper decorum, then maybe this is not a good idea."

Jon stared at her, completely stunned by her emotional reaction. "T'Pol," he said, moving to stand behind her, "I was just joking. If you were any more proper… well, I don't know what they'd do, but you've got to see that there's nothing wrong with your behavior."

"I apologize Captain," she said stiffly, still not facing him. "It appears my emotions have gotten the better of me again."

"What do you mean, again?" he asked, curious.

"There was a similar incident with Commander Tucker a few weeks ago, just before we learned of your death," she said. "He made a comment to me, and I assumed… I assumed he was saying that I am old."

"You jumped to a conclusion?" he said, raising his brows a little. Emotional outbursts were one thing, but conclusions were a completely different area of illogic, one he hadn't realized she would struggle with as well.

"I did," she confirmed. "I allowed my emotions to control me to the point that I revealed my age to him."

"I thought age was private for Vulcans," Jon said, suddenly uncomfortable with the thought that she might be willing to share intimate details of her life with Trip, but not with him.

"It is," she agreed. "Our relationship had… progressed to a stage where it is likely that I would have told him eventually. I am not sure I liked being goaded into it though," she explained.

He relaxed a little when he heard her say she had not intended to open up to Trip, but knowing that they had a relationship that would permit it still made his heart ache. "I thought I could just shove aside how I feel about her, but that's not going to happen," he knew then.

"I can understand that," he said gently. "No one likes to feel like they're being forced, either by people or by circumstances, to share more of themselves than they wanted to. I think part of dealing with emotions is learning to control yourself when you feel pressured to do something you don't want to do."

"Captain," T'Pol said, raising a single eyebrow, "are you about to give me the sex talk?"

"The what???" he sputtered, his face turning beet red.

"I have heard that is how human parents begin the discussion on sex—telling their children not be pushed into doing things they don't want to do," she explained, her tone clinical.

Jon stared at her, his mouth hanging open, ready to apologize and flee the room when he saw the twinkle in her eyes. "You're teasing me!" he accused, shocked at her behavior.

"Jonathan! Would I tease you about such a thing?" she questioned, trying to hide the upturn of her lips, and failing.

"Apparently the new, emotion-equipped T'Pol would," he muttered, still flustered by the sudden heat her comments had generated.

"I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable," she said, suddenly serious again. "It just seemed to be the right moment for such a comment."

Shaking his head, Jon couldn't help but laugh. Just two weeks ago, he'd convinced himself that nothing could ever happen between himself and T'Pol now, because he wouldn't be sure if her emotions were real or not. Suddenly, he knew this simply made her more like other women. "Does anyone ever really know what a woman is thinking?" he thought humorously.

"That's fine T'Pol," he told her. "I just wasn't expecting a comment like that from you."

"I shall attempt to control myself from now on," she told him solemnly, only a slight smile indicating her state of mind.

"You do that," he mock-scolded, surprised again by the glint of amusement he saw in her eyes. "And I need to get back to my quarters," he added, realizing that if the discussion went very much longer it would truly become uncomfortable.

"Believe me T'Pol, you didn't make me uncomfortable," he said silently as he headed toward his own cabin. "In fact, you may have just given me the encouragement I needed to pursue you."