Chapter 11:
T'Pol rocked back and forth on her heels, unsure if this was a wise course of action. "I should be able to make this decision by myself," she chided herself. "I should not need advice from Commander Tucker, or anyone else."
She stared at the call button outside his door, her hand poised to push it. Making a quick decision, she did so and sat back to wait. "Perhaps I should be able to do this without help, but since I cannot, it would be illogical to try," she reminded herself. One of the things she'd had to learn over the last few months was that while she did need to work primarily alone to integrate her emotions into her character, it did not make sense to turn down assistance when it was offered, or to not seek it when it was necessary. For someone who valued her privacy at almost any cost, it had been difficult to accept.
"Just a sec!" Trip called from the bathroom when his doorbell rang, rubbing his face dry. Tossing the towel on his bed, he quickly pulled on a clean shirt before opening the door. "What's up?" he asked, surprised to see T'Pol outside his quarters and suddenly grateful that he'd taken time to shower and change after work today. She didn't mention it much, but he knew it bothered her to see anyone grungy and dirty.
She took note of his clean attire but did not comment on it. "May I speak with you Commander?" she asked. Their friendship was returning gradually, but she was uncertain how he would react to what she had to say. Would he be glad, or would he try to stop her?
"Sure," he said, stepping back to allow her to walk in. "So, ya have somethin' on your mind?" he asked, noticed the way her hands were laced tightly in front of herself.
"Yes, but I am unsure how to express it," she told him honestly. Honesty was another habit she'd had to develop recently. The only way anyone could ever understand what you were feeling was if you told them—the old Vulcan patterns of denial and repression no longer worked.
Trip pulled over a chair for her and sat down himself, taking a moment to really look at her. "Something's really bugging her," he thought, noticing the way she looked straight ahead, refusing to really meet his gaze. "T'Pol, we're friends. Why don't ya just say whatever is bothering ya, straight out?" he suggested gently, suppressing the urge to place his hand on her shoulder. One thing he had learned over the last few months was that when she had something on her mind, it was best not to touch her, since that just distracted her.
"Very well," she agreed, taking the seat he had indicated. "I am considering asking for a transfer back to Vulcan," she said in a rush.
"Back to… but I thought they wouldn't take you back," he said, confused.
She gave him an ironic smile, still slightly bemused by the illogical responses she had received when asking if she would be accepted back into the Science Directorate. "I have done some inquiring, and it seems they are willing to overlook my behavior, based on the results it received," she explained.
"Okay then… but why would ya want to leave Enterprise? I thought you were starting to enjoy being here with all us humans," he said, attempting to get a small smile out of her.
Instead, she looked away and said, "I am not sure the humans all enjoy being with me any longer."
The instant it was out of her mouth, she regretted it. "I sound… needy," she thought, feeling degraded by her own emotions. "I did not want to tell him all of what has happened, but now…"
"What do you mean?" he asked sharply, interrupting her train of thought and proving her assumption correct. He would not let this alone until he learned what was going on. "Is someone making you feel unwelcome?" he interrogated.
She sighed, realizing she was not going to be able to get around this conversation. This was the reason she had been unsure if she wanted to discuss this with Commander Tucker, but the fact remained that he was her closest friend on board, after the captain, who was going out of his way to avoid her. "Captain Archer has been… upset with me lately. My work does not seem to be up to his standards, and…"
"That's just ridiculous!" he argued, pounding his fists on the table in front of him. "He knows no one else could do your job as well as you!"
"That may be the cold fact Commander, but he does not seem happy to have me here," she explained bluntly. "I can understand it in part, there are things you do not know… he does have reasons," she said, not wanting him to know everything that had happened between her and the captain. "Despite that, I do not feel like working for someone who does not trust me," she added with a touch of pique. "I believe it would be best for all concerned if I left and the captain found someone he could work with more easily."
"T'Pol, you aren't going anywhere," he insisted. "Trust me, he doesn't want you leave…"
"You are far more certain of that than I," she told him, thinking back on the cold, professional distance Jon had kept between them since she'd told him that her relationship with Trip was over.
Trip shook his head, certain she had to be over reacting. "One thing about Vulcans with emotions," he thought with a touch of amusement. "They never do anything halfway… if they're mad, they're furious, and if they're feelin' left out, then the whole world must be out to get them."
"Tell ya what, I'll talk to him, see if I can figure out what's going on," he suggested.
She recoiled instantly. This was unexpected, and unwanted. The last thing she wanted was for Commander Tucker to discuss this with the captain, and give him more reason to believe she was completely ruled by emotion. "No! That is… that would not be necessary."
He gaped at her, shocked by her vehement refusal. "Okay, if that's the way you want it…"
"It is," she said firmly, leaving no doubt as to her wishes.
"All right then… just… don't leave, okay?" he requested. "We may not be an item anymore, you and I, but I sure would miss your company," he told her sincerely.
"I appreciate the sentiment Commander," she said, nodding slightly. "I will take more time to consider it," she allowed, standing up and moving toward the door.
"I guess I can't ask for anything more than that," he said, disappointed that she wouldn't promise to stay and yet understanding why she didn't feel like she could.
"Thank you for listening to me Trip," she said as she left.
"No problem. We're friends, you can come talk to me anytime."
His smile disappeared as soon as she was gone. "What is goin' on around here?" he muttered, flopping down on his bed. "I know the cap'n doesn't want her to leave, what could make her think that? Maybe she's just over-reacting or something…"
The next day, he knew she wasn't. Curious to see what she was talking about, he found some excuse to spend time on the bridge, and within ten minutes, he understood why she felt unwelcome.
"T'Pol, is there anything interesting in the next system?" Jon asked, staring out the view screen instead of looking up at her.
"There appears to be a Captain," she told him, looking at the scans she was taking.
"What kind?" he asked.
"I really could not say," she told him quietly.
"Fine," he replied shortly. "Let me know when you have something solid to give me."
Trip's jaw dropped in astonishment. It wasn't the words that shocked him, though they were unusual too. It was the coldness in his tone, the utter lack of friendship and camaraderie. They had been close before, but now all that was left was the relationship between a captain and his first officer, and that just wasn't cutting it.
Looking around the bridge, he realized this had been going on for some time. No one else seemed surprised by his attitude. In fact, it looked like they didn't even notice it anymore. Shaking his head, Trip decided that no matter what T'Pol wanted, he was going to try to fix this for her.
"Cap'n, can I talk to you for a moment?" he requested.
"Sure Trip," Jon said easily, and the dramatic shift in tone did not go unnoticed by Trip.
Neither did the fact that T'Pol was currently glaring at him, clearly not wanting him to talk to the captain. Trip shot her a grin, letting her know he was going to do exactly what she thought he was going to do, and she couldn't stop him.
He waited a few beats after they walked into the ready room together, getting his thoughts together. Something was wrong with his friend, very very wrong, but he wasn't sure what it was.
"What's the problem with you?" he began, almost angrily.
"What? What are you talking about?" Jon asked, confused by the emotion he saw in his best friend's expression.
"The way you treated T'Pol just now, like she was only some hired hand, there to give you information and bring you your slippers! What do you think you're doing?"
"You think she'd bring me my slippers?" Jon asked, trying to distract him.
"That's not what I'm talkin' about, and you know it!" Trip told him, waving his hands at him. "What is goin' on out there?" he demanded again.
"Watch your tone Commander," Jon warned, standing behind the desk watching the stars.
"The hell I will! I'm not in here to talk to my captain, and you know it! Jon, things out there on the bridge are worse than they were in our first few weeks out in space. Back then, it was like you can't help but bait T'Pol. You grew out of that though, and you two became real friends. Now you're just acting like… like… I don't know what you're acting like, but whatever it is, it isn't working! Are you tryin' to force her into a breakdown?" he probed, not understanding what he had seen.
"I'm trying to act like a captain!" Jon exploded, turning away from the stars, his eyes blazing with repressed anger. In the weeks since T'Pol had come to his quarters with her odd announcement, he'd been frustrated at her progress. He'd needed to believe this attempt on her part to control her emotions wasn't going to work any better than last time. He needed to believe that because it was one of the reasons he continually gave himself for ignoring his feelings for her, and the longer she lasted without any real struggle, the more he wondered how flimsy his excuse was.
"No, you're trying to act like a…"
"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I was you Commander," Jon stated, his voice deadly quiet.
"Yes sir!" Trip replied, coming to attention. "My apologies to the captain sir, I just felt he had a right to know when he was treating his officer disrespectfully," he said, his voice low and mocking.
Jon flushed slightly, embarrassed at being caught. He knew that he'd been taking his frustrations out on her professionally yet again, but the thought that the crew knew that was what he was doing disturbed him. "The crew needs to know she can handle needling," he replied, uncomfortable with having to explain his actions.
"The crew needs to know that their captain and first officer are on speaking terms!" Trip exclaimed, breaking stance and looking him in the face.
"We're speaking," Jon protested. "We just had a whole conversation not five minutes ago, didn't you see it? It might not have been the warmest conversation…"
"Not the warmest? Jon, I've seen icicles in December that were warmer than your attitude towards her just now."
"You're exaggerating," he scoffed. "Besides, you simply said I need to talk to her, and I do."
"Outside of the bridge?" Trip challenged. "I haven't seen her in the captain's mess in weeks, or if she's there than you're not. It's like the two of you are avoiding each other. Avoidance and antagonism. Do you want her to go back to Vulcan?"
"Go back to Vulcan?" Jon thought, blanching. "No!" he exclaimed without thinking, speaking straight from the heart.
"Well she thinks you do. She doesn't think you can forgive her for all the crap that's happened in the last year, she thinks you're trying to get rid of her. Jon, you know the Vulcans will never accept her, not now that she's all emotional."
"I like her emotional," Jon defended.
"Well I do too, but they won't. So I ask again, are you tryin' to get rid of her?"
"I don't want her to leave," Jon admitted quietly, sitting down slowly. "You have no idea how much I don't want that," he said, almost to himself.
Trip heard though, and he stared at him, seeing for the first time the truth in the jests he'd made a few months earlier. "You're in love with her," he stated, amazed, taking a seat across from him.
"What?" Jon asked, searching desperately for a way to deny it. Taking one look at his friend's face, he knew it was pointless—Trip could see it all, Trip had lived it himself.
"Ya heard, me, you're in love with her. Don't try to deny it… no wonder she tried those emotions out on you! She musta figured out how you felt and…"
"Trip. Stop, please," Jon requested, closing his eyes. "She figured out how I felt and used it against me? Used me the same way she used Trip?" In all his many rehashes of their one kiss, that was one possibility that had never occurred to him. Having the one moment he'd shared with her ripped away from him left a gaping hole in his heart, and he gasped for a moment, trying to regain his composure.
Trip winced, guilty that he'd unwittingly opened some wounds. "Ah, I'm sorry Jon. I wasn't thinking."
"It's okay, I'd just rather not talk about that," Jon said heavily.
"So you are in love with her," Trip restated for verification.
"Why are you pressing this?" he asked, wanting to change the focus of the conversation. "I would have thought you'd still be a little upset, after all, you two only ended your relationship a few months ago."
"We split on account of irreconcilable differences," Trip said cheekily. "And ya know, I'm happier now. You however are not, which tells me you must be in love with her."
"I'm not sure I know what love is anymore," Jon said, shaking his head. "A year ago, if you'd asked me if I was in love with T'Pol… yeah, I would have said yes. But so much has happened since then…"
"Love is when… ah hell, I don't think I know either!" Trip said, getting a slight chuckle out of his friend. "But I know it when I see it, and you're in love with her," he declared, crossing his arms in front of him.
Jon smiled, almost whimsically. "All right, if you say so," he teased. "After all, you are the expert. Let's see, since we've been in space, you've had how many relationships? There was T'Pol of course, and the princess, oh, and let's not forget the time you got pregnant…"
"That's right, just call me Trip 'Lover boy' Tucker," he jested. Joining his friend in the laughter that filled the room, he realized it had been too long since he'd heard him laugh. He'd been worried about him.
"Tell me something Jon," he said, his earlier concern for his friend giving him an idea. "Friends care about each other and get a little concerned, I'm betting what he felt was deeper…" "T'Pol said you were angry when you found out she'd been taking the Trellium. Why were you upset?"
"Because it was dangerous," Jon replied immediately, knowing he was giving himself away even as he said it.
"That's what I thought, you were scared for her. No, you were scared that you'd lose her. Yep, you're in love with her… me, I didn't even see that for days. All I could think about was how that meant our relationship hadn't been real."
"Believe me, I know how that feels too," Jon muttered, feeling again the sharp stab of betrayal that had lanced through him when he'd discovered she'd gone straight from him to Trip.
"Yeah, I know," Trip said, his voice full of commiseration.
The small room was quiet for a moment, both men lost in thought. Was it better to have loved and lost? Jon still didn't think so, but Trip wasn't so sure. He'd learned a lot from his short relationship with T'Pol. "Sure, most of it was on what not to do next time," he thought wryly, "but still, there were good moments. Much as I woulda liked for us to work out, I'm not upset that we tried and failed."
"But ya know," he said finally, breaking the silence, "you still need to be nicer to her. I mean it Jon, she thinks you're ready to ship her off to Siberia or something."
"Nicer? How do you suggest I go about that?" Jon questioned sardonically.
"Well, you could start by talking to her instead of sniping at her," Trip suggested wryly. "Seriously, watching the two of you on the bridge was like seeing my sister and I in the back seat of the car on a long trip, once we got past the yelling stage and were in the 'I'm not talking to you unless you have the coloring book I want' stage."
"I see your point," Jon admitted reluctantly.
"And then you might try seeing her outside of work."
"Seeing her… Trip, I don't think our relationship is ready for that. I don't think it ever will be," Jon protested, shaking his head.
"I didn't mean it like that. Invite her to eat in the captain's mess. Talk to her about her day, about things she saw on her scans, about how her pink cat suit sets off the color of her eyes…"
"What?"
"Too much?" Trip asked unrepentantly. "Okay then, stick to work for a while. You two used to be friends, you need to be friends again."
"I can do that," Jon agreed, ushering his friend back out onto the bridge.
That night, he had his first chance to prove himself as good as his word. "T'Pol," he said, getting into the lift with her, "I was hoping you would join me in the captain's mess for dinner tonight."
"I was intending to eat in my quarters," she said, almost hesitantly.
The message he received was clear: she did not want to eat with him, but if he made it an order, she would. "I'd appreciate it if you joined me tonight," he said engagingly. "You can retreat to your cabin tomorrow if you want," he promised with a smile as they reached their deck. "So, will I see you for dinner?"
"Yes Captain," she agreed reluctantly.
An hour later, he was sitting alone in his mess, staring at the door and tapping his knife nervously against the table. When the door opened and she walked in, his smiled widely in relief. "I was afraid you weren't going to show again," he explained when she gave him a look of confusion.
"I am not in the habit of breaking engagements," she said stiffly. "I have already apologized for the one time I did so."
"But you have to admit, the circumstances make it stick out in my mind," he reminded her, sitting back slightly as the stewards served them both.
"Captain, if you asked me to join you simply so you can remind me of how greatly I wronged you, I should leave right now. I am aware of that, and I pay for it everyday," she said harshly, hurt that he would bring this up.
"T'Pol! Calm down!" he requested, holding out his hands in a gesture for her to remain seated. "I wasn't going to berate you for that again, I promise you."
"Very well then, what did you wish to discuss?"
He hesitated slightly, not sure if she would welcome this discussion or not. Deciding that she really had no choice, he shrugged and jumped right in. "Trip tells me you're considering going back to Vulcan," he told her quietly.
"That is correct, although I did ask him not to mention it to you," she told him, her irritation obvious.
"He didn't tell me that," Jon said with a frown. "I'm sorry if you feel like he broke your trust, but I have to admit, I'm glad he told me. I'm curious, what made you think about leaving Enterprise?" he asked, despite knowing the answer.
"I understand why you are upset with me, and I can accept that it will never change," she said. "You told me you would not be able to forgive me, and I have realized that I cannot continue living like this."
"I never should have said that," he told her, shaking his head in remorse. "My runaway tongue strikes again," he realized, knowing he would have to work on controlling what he said, even if he was hurt and angry.
"You were hurt, you had every right to be," she countered.
"But I didn't have a right to say that. It hurt you, I could tell."
"I know you could tell," she said quietly. "I wanted you to know that you had hurt me, just as you wanted me to know I had hurt you."
He stared at her for a moment, lost in thought. "Emotions can be pretty destructive things, can't they?" he questioned.
"That is why Vulcans have sought to suppress them," she reminded him.
"Yeah, well that doesn't work for all of us," Jon said with a grimace, his thoughts drifting to the nagging love he had for her that just would not go away. "Sometimes, denying emotions just makes them stronger."
He paused, shaking his head. "But I'm getting off track. We're not here to talk about emotions, or how to control them… T'Pol, I don't want you to leave," he said baldly.
"Are you certain you can trust me to do my job?"
"I am certain that I don't want to lose your friendship," he told her.
For the first time all evening, her features relaxed. "I do not want to lose yours either Captain," she told him. "I just did not know there was still a chance to regain it."
Startled and a little humbled by her words, he gave her a genuine smile. "I think we're getting a good start here," he told he honestly.
The look she gave him was tentative at best and filled with doubt. It strengthened his own resolve to show her he was serious about regaining their friendship, but he didn't find an opportunity to do so until he met her several days later in the observation lounge.
"Oh, I'm sorry… I didn't expect anyone to be in here," Jon said, feeling uncomfortable as he stood next to the door, his book in hand.
"I often come here in the evenings to watch the stars," she told him calmly.
"Would you like to be alone? I can always read in my quarters," he offered uncertainly, shifting from one foot to the other.
"No, I do not believe your presence would be distracting," she said.
"What are you drinking?" he asked as he took one of the seats near the windows.
"It is an herbal mint tea," she answered, taking a sip. "I find it soothes my emotions at the end of a long day."
"Was today long?" he asked, setting his book down on the deck next to him and staring at her intently.
"No more than any other day perhaps," she said, "yet I find myself slightly worn out."
"Are you working too hard?" he inquired, his concern slowly building into worry.
"No, I am doing no more than usual. Perhaps as humans are fond of saying, I just had a bad day," she told him quietly, taking another sip of tea.
"I know how that feels," he said, the response feeling stiff and unnaturally on his lips. "There are some days when you have to wonder if it was even worth it to get out of bed."
"I am not sure about that," she countered. "Staying in bed all day for no reason would not be at all logical."
For some reason, the familiarity of her reference to logic calmed him more than anything else could have. Grinning broadly, he grabbed his book and flipped to the page he'd left off on. "You've got a point there," he said, chuckling slightly as he began reading.
The next night when he walked into the observation lounge, he found her waiting with two cups of tea. Without a word, she handed him one and then picked up her own book, curling up in the chair opposite him to read.
That night he found himself wondering exactly what was going on in her head. It was strangely unsettling to realize that he really did not know her very well anymore.
After the tenth time he lost his place when his eyes drifted up to watch her, he snapped his book shut and said, "That's it, this isn't working."
"What isn't working Captain?" she questioned, confused by his abrupt statement.
"Well, first off that," he said. "We were friends once T'Pol, do you think you could call me by my first name?" he requested.
"If I recall, you instructed me to stop doing so," she reminded him.
"Oh. I did, didn't I?" he said, remembering why he'd done so. "Well, you can call me Jonathan again," he told her.
"Very well Jonathan. Was there anything else that bothered you about the situation, or was it simply the fact that you did not think I would use your first name if and when I found it necessary to address you?"
"Well when she puts it that way, it sounds pretty silly," he thought sheepishly. "Nothing else right now," he admitted, "but be prepared for more random outbursts like that. I want us to be friends again, T'Pol."
"I would wish for that as well Jonathan," she agreed before looking down at her book again.
A few weeks passed before they crossed paths again in the lounge. This time Jon brought a thermos with him and two mugs. Pouring her a drink, he watched as she carefully sniffed at it, wrinkling her nose at the unfamiliar smell. "It's called spiced cider," he told her, his smile encouraging her to take a sip.
She did so, and then coughed loudly. "It has a very strong flavor Jonathan," she said, taking a drink of her tea to sooth her throat.
"Yeah, it is strong," he agreed. "But I think if you drink it slowly, you might like it," he told her, taking a sip from his own cup.
"I will try it tonight," she acquiesced, taking her usual spot by the window.
He watched her get comfortable and open her book to the page she had marked. "What are you reading?" he asked curiously, thinking that the title appeared to be written in an Earth language.
"It is a French novel of a man who is corrupted by the justice system and then saved from himself by a religious figure."
"Ah, Les Miserables," he said with a smile.
"Yes."
Pulling up his own memories of the story, he asked, "How far have you gotten?"
"I am only through the first section," she told him. "I find the values of this culture very hard to understand. Why was this woman, Fantine, forced to leave her child behind with strangers?"
"She had no money to care for her daughter," Jon explained. "She thought the innkeeper and his family would love her like one of theirs."
"It has been my observation," T'Pol said, "that one rarely loves what belongs to someone else as they would if it was their own."
He stared at her for a moment, struck dumb by her comment. "Is that why I persisted in thinking of her as Trip's, even after they both told me their relationship was over?" he wondered. "If she belonged to someone else, than I could convince myself that I didn't love her as much…"
Looking at his expression, she knew she had lost his attention. Somewhat perplexed, she continued her reading, wondering what he was thinking about.