Chapter 7:
Jon stared at his door, stunned by what had just happened. For a moment, he didn't know what to think, but suddenly his face split into a wide grin, and he began singing "It's a Brazzle-Dazzle Day" in a loud voice, feeling absolutely giddy.
"She cares about me Porthos!" he hollered, feeling like shouting it from the rooftops. She cared, and for once he had actions to back up his instinct. He thought for a while that maybe… just maybe she was starting to see him as something more than a friend, and now he had concrete proof.
The last six months had been amazing, for both of them he liked to think. Under her instruction and guidance, he'd gradually lost the darker side of himself that had surfaced in the Expanse. His experiences there had changed him, and they couldn't undo that. But they could keep it from affecting the way he behaved now, and they had made serious headway in that area.
"I haven't told Malcolm to blow anyone up in weeks," he commented, realizing that it would sound ridiculous unless people knew how many times he'd been tempted to do just that.
But no one knew, no one but T'Pol. There had been three close encounters in the first few months since he had realized how he'd changed. The first time she had reminded him of their deal, he had felt the same desire to knock her on her ass that he'd had when he'd first met her. He knew what he wanted to do, what he needed to do for his ship, and here was this… Vulcan holding him back!
It had taken some work, but she had managed to talk some sense into him in the privacy of his ready room. "I probably wasn't as diplomatic as I could have been when I talked to them, but they're still alive," he stated, taking pride in that small victory.
The next two times had gotten successively easier, until all he'd needed was a quick look from her to know that he needed to rein himself in. For the past two months, he'd been able to control himself without any help from her. "Well, at least without more help than I always needed from her," he , knowing that her advice had always been crucial to the decisions he made as captain, and that it would continue to be.
"And apparently, if tonight is anything to go by, she's learning to deal with her emotions," he exulted, still feeling the touch of her lips against his.
Twenty minutes ago, T'Pol had shown up on his doorstep, as it were, looking as calm and composed as ever. That was important, because if she'd been driven by emotion, it would make what happened next empty of all the meaning he hoped it held.
She'd come in, wanting to discuss something but unsure how to broach the subject. "You know you can tell me anything," he'd told her, pulling up a chair while she sat down on the couch.
"I am aware of that Jonathan," she'd said, and he'd relished in the private thrill he felt every time he heard her full name come from him.
"Then what is it?" he'd prodded gently, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable yet still curious to know what had brought her here.
"I came to discuss… emotions," she'd said hesitantly, dropping her eyes for a moment.
"I thought we were to a place where you felt like you could talk to me about those without worrying," he'd said, disappointed in what he saw as a dip in the level of trust they'd achieved.
"These are different," she'd explained, looking up at him again.
He'd raised one brow, wondering exactly what she was here to say. Forcing himself not to get his hopes up, he'd asked, "How so?"
"They are… about you," she'd answered, so quietly he'd had to lean in to hear her.
Unable to believe what he'd heard, he'd reached out and put his hand under his chin, tilting it up so he could see the look in her eyes. There he'd seen a mix of caring and attraction that had taken his breath away and given him hope, all in one moment.
"Are you saying you… might care for me T'Pol?" he had asked softly.
"I… I…" Words had failed her, so instead of answering, she'd closed the distance between them and placed a soft kiss on his lips.
The feelings that had rushed through him were instantaneous and powerful. Amazement, desire, love… they were all there, in some form or another. More than anything, he'd wanted to grab onto her and never let the moment end, but he'd managed to remember that she needed to be in control, and he'd kept his hands at his sides.
A moment later she'd pulled back, and he'd had to stifle his groan of displeasure. In her eyes he saw a haze of emotions, and a hint of confusion, so he hadn't protested when she'd stood to leave.
"That was… I have much I need to think about," she'd said breathlessly, pushing her hair out of her face. "Would you be willing to talk with me about this in the morning?" she'd asked, her hand at the door.
"Of course," he'd answered instantly, knowing that at that moment, if she'd asked him to buy her the moon, he would have gone straight to the proper authorities and offered them his life savings, just to give her what she wanted.
But she didn't want the moon, she wanted to talk… and he could do that. He could do that easily, the question was if he could wait until morning. The emotion he'd seen in her expression and felt in her kiss had stunned him, far surpassing anything he'd ever expected from her.
Faced with the possibility of having everything he had wanted for the last three and a half years, he suddenly understood a little bit more of T'Pol's reasoning for continuing her use of Trellium. She'd said that the drug gave her emotions, and that she had wanted more of them… at this moment, he could certainly relate to that.
Evocative, emotive, overpowering, overwhelming… full to over-flowing. All words to describe the feelings the kiss had inspired. The intense pleasure it had brought was simply beyond words, greater than her experience could describe.
"So many feelings," she thought desperately as she fled to her quarters. Just moments before, she had been kissing the captain. It had been a spontaneous action, one she hadn't bothered to contain, or hadn't been able to. Either way, the result was the same and now she need to live with the consequences.
For the last month, he had been pursuing her. She wasn't a fool, she knew what he'd been doing—despite never having experienced it herself. She had felt a whole barrage of new emotions in response to his behavior, from confusion to discomfort to pleasure that he found her attractive.
The last was most illogical, but she had been unable to divest herself of it. Instead, it had been that emotion she had acted on, choosing to return it in kind with a physical action.
"How can I tell him I did not mean to do it, that it was merely an impulse, one I could not deny?" she agonized as she lit her meditation candles, her hands still trembling with emotion. "He will know it was the Trellium, he will never trust me again. It would hurt him deeply if he learned that my kiss was an emotional response."
Unfortunately, she didn't see the poor logic behind her conclusion. Kisses are supposed to be an emotional response, that's part of the definition. While the captain might be slightly concerned that her emotions were not truly her own, he would never be upset that she kissed him for emotional reasons.
And she had. As she'd watched his old character return, she'd found herself strangely stirred by the simple nobility of this man, this explorer who wanted nothing more than to leave the world a better place than it was when he came into it.
The pleasure she'd felt in seeing her friend come home had grown and changed into something more, something infinitely more dangerous. She had gone to his quarters tonight, hoping to be able to discuss it with him, yet strangely embarrassed to confess to this emotion she did not have a name for.
In the end, the words had not come. What had come had been action, one she had enjoyed immensely. Kissing him had been more than pleasant, it had been amazing. And realizing he felt something for her in return had been nothing short of awesome.
But she remained unconvinced that he would accept her as she was, with the damage she had done to herself. Grace for one's faults is not easily found on Vulcan, and her experience with it was limited. No Vulcan would accept her, knowing she had at one time been addicted to a substance which encouraged emotions, and she could not imagine that Jonathan would either.
A whisper of a thought crept into her mind as she stared at the flickering flames, searching for peace. Trip did not know that her emotions had been affected by anything but himself. The captain did however. He would likely never be able to fully accept her feelings as true, Trip would not know they could be anything but.
"All the sensations I felt when I kissed Commander Tucker… it was the same," she realized. "And he does not know about the Trellium, he does not know that was not completely me."
"I need someone," she told herself, feeling as if she would fall apart if she did not have someone to share these emotions with, someone to feel for. "I need someone, and the captain will be unwilling. Perhaps my older self was right."
The advice she'd given herself came back, unbidden. "Trip can be an outlet for these feelings," she repeated, seeking solace in the words. An outlet for the feelings, that was what she needed. She had tried managing them, tried pretending they did not exist, but they still came back, stronger than ever.
At the time, she had been reluctant to consider Trip as an option. Yes, she cared for him, but the strongest feelings she had were not for him, she knew that. "But now, there is no one else left," she concluded morosely, willing herself to set aside the idea of being with Jonathan. "Perhaps he is the solution."
Unhappy with the decision she'd made, yet seeing no other options, she quickly blew out the candle and left the room. But there, lingering in the air, was the rest of the advice she'd received, words which she had forgotten.
All of her older self's advice had hinged on trusting Trip, trusting him with her emotions, and though it went unsaid, trusting him with knowledge of her Trellium addiction. If she chose not to tell him, she was in fact not following the advice she'd given herself at all.
She was instead following the same pattern she'd taken once with Trip, only this time with another man. The feelings Jonathan stirred in her were powerful, and she was frightened… just as she had been in the other timeline with Trip.
Two different versions of herself, feeling deeply for two different men… leading to two relationships with the same man. History, it seems, is determined to repeat itself, despite our best efforts.