Chapter 14:
Jon glanced nervously down the corridor as he got off the lift. "What would the crew think if they knew what I'm planning?" he worried. "And will I get a chance to tell them, or will I be shot down sometime between now and then?"
"Could I have a word with you Trip?" Jon asked, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder just as he got to his quarters.
"Sure Cap'n, ya wanna come in and sit down?" Trip offered, keying in the entry code and opening the door.
"Thanks Trip, and it's Jon. I need to talk to my friend for a moment."
"Is somethin' wrong Jon?" Trip asked, worry darkening his gaze.
"No, I just…" he paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Are you still in love with T'Pol?" he asked suddenly.
Trip blinked for a second before he started laughing. "Is that what this is about?" he asked, amused.
"Is that what this is all about?"
"Did you come to ask me if I'm okay with you marrying my ex-girlfriend?"
Jon flushed and turned away. "Well, when you put it that way, it sounds pretty stupid," he mumbled.
"Nah, not stupid," Trip told him. "Just kinda silly."
"I guess you wouldn't have any problems with it then?" Jon prodded.
"None, as long as you take care of her," Trip replied, getting serious. "Listen Jon, I'm not in love with her anymore, if that's what you were wondering." He smiled slightly when his friend's whole frame relaxed, knowing he'd hit the nail on the head. "However," he continued, "I do still care for her as a friend, a whole lot. So if I think you're hurting her, you won't be able to stop me from haulin' off and slapping you upside the head with a two by four."
"I have no intention of hurting her," Jon promised, holding his hand out for Trip to shake.
"So, how're ya gonna ask?" Trip prodded, sitting back on his couch and propping up his feet on the table.
"I thought I'd do it tonight," Jon told him.
"Ah, in the observation lounge over your tea?" Trip asked knowingly.
"How did you know about that?" Jon asked incredulously.
"Me? Jon, the whole ship knows about it," Trip teased. "Why else did you think the room was magically open for you most nights?"
Jon stopped to consider, realizing they had rarely had to go someplace else. The lounge was almost always empty. "I never really thought about it," he said, cocking his head to one side. "Well, I guess I don't have to worry about how to tell the crew," he muttered, more to himself than to Trip.
Trip waited for him to explain the comment, but when he didn't he shrugged and repeated his question. "So, is that where you're gonna ask?"
"I was planning on it," Jon said.
"Do you have a ring for her?" Trip questioned.
"Yeah, I do… I just hope she'll wear it," he said, thinking not for the first time that jewelry might not be considered very logical.
"Can I see it?" Trip requested.
Jon pulled it out and handed it over, watching as Trip inspected it carefully. "Yeah, you've got a pretty simple ring here. The stones don't stick out, so they won't catch on anything, and the band is slim enough that she wouldn't feel like she's wearing some huge lug, but big enough to not be fragile. It's her style."
"Good, I thought so too," Jon said, relieved that he had done the right thing. "But do you think she'll say yes?" he asked uncertainly.
Trip sighed, wondering how to answer that question. Finally, he said honestly, "I don't know."
Jon's face fell slightly and he tucked the ring back in his pocket. "Maybe I ought to wait then," he mumbled dejectedly.
"Wait a minute there!" Trip ordered. "I didn't say I think she'll turn you down flat, I said I don't know! I've never been able to read her as well as you can Jon, I don't always know what she's thinking just by watching her posture. You can answer that better than I can, do you think she'll say yes?"
Jon opened his mouth and then shut it, before opening it again and saying, "I think she will, yes."
"She loves you."
He exhaled a breath, taking comfort in that. In the four months since they'd first said the words, she'd made sure he never doubted how she felt about him. The Vulcan in her was often uncomfortable with the overt nature of using the words, so she more often gave gestures of love, but they were there, and he knew what they meant. "I know."
"She trusts you too."
"I know."
"Then what were you so worried about?"
"That she wouldn't think that was enough," he answered.
Trip shook his head and muttered to himself, "What is it with people in love?" Placing his hands on Jon's shoulders, he shook him slightly and then forced him to look him straight in the eye. "Jon. I can think of plenty of things T'Pol wants in life…" He paused, watching Jon mentally go over a list he had. "Stop it," he ordered. "Don't go convincing yourself that there are things she wants more than to be with you."
"But you just said…"
"Are there things you want? Bein' a starship captain, having kids maybe… things like that?"
"Of course."
"And does wanting those things make you want to marry T'Pol any less?"
Jon started to answer, then stopped and considered. "So you're saying I'm being stupid," he summarized.
"Pretty much," Trip said with a grin. "Now get out there and propose," he commanded, shoving his friend out the door.
For a moment, Jon just stood in the corridor, frozen in place. What if… Shaking his head forcefully, he continued on his way. "I can't lose myself in the possibilities," he told himself sternly. "And besides, even T'Pol agreed that it's not logical to avoid something simply because you're afraid of how it might turn out."
Was he nervous? His clammy palms and the way his hands shook slightly as he walked down the hall answered that question. But in the end, he couldn't deny the way he felt anymore than he could deny who he was—it was a part of who he was.
When he entered the observation lounge, she had their nightly tea ready. "You are later than usual tonight Jonathan," she said, rising to greet him.
A sudden image of the old version of T'Pol greeting him similarly came to mind, and he knew he was doing the right thing. "I've had something on my mind," he said, trying to ease into the subject.
"Is it something you would like to share?" she asked, meeting the issue head-on.
"I think so. My only question is if you'll want to hear it."
"The only way to find out is to try," she pointed out logically, as he had known she would.
"You're right," he conceded and motioned for her to take a seat. When she had done so, he clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing in front of her, trying to work off his nerves as he talked.
"T'Pol, how long have we been in a relationship now?" he asked first.
"Approximately eight months," she replied, confused by his actions. "I need to follow his lead until he is comfortable telling me exactly what he is thinking about though," she told herself, resisting the urge to probe for details.
"That's right," he agreed. "And wouldn't you say it's gone pretty well? I mean, we've learned things about each other, we've become closer…"
"Of course," she said, her brow furrowing as she tried to follow his train of thought.
"There have been some bumps along the way, but that's the be expected, right? There's no such thing as the perfect relationship, especially when you're talking about a cross-cultural relationship. And we worked out our disagreements, we didn't just get angry and bitter… I think we're doing pretty good," he said, nodding decisively.
"Jonathan, what…" she started to ask, but he interrupted her before she could get the full question out.
"T'Pol," he said, standing still in front of her and pulling her to her feet, "will you marry me?"
For a moment, all she could do was gape at him. Rushing to fill the uncomfortable silence, he said, "I guess it might be a little fast—we did talk about moving slow in the beginning. And I know there will be problems from both of our governments, although I really can't see what business it is of theirs. But even though I know all of those things, I know one other thing that makes it so important for me to ask… I love you, and you love me, and I think that…"
"Yes," she said quickly, stopping his string of run-on sentences.
"What?" he asked, his mind not catching up with what she was saying.
"I said yes," she repeated, enjoying the expression on his face.
"But… but…" He floundered for a moment. He'd been so sure that she would argue that he wasn't prepared for her easy agreement. "Don't you think it's a little too early?"
"No," she replied, surprised for a moment that she truly did not. "I asked for the time in the beginning because I was unsure of my emotions. That is no longer the case."
"What about others? You know they'll put up a fit, saying it's not right for a human and a Vulcan to be in a relationship, much less married. Are you prepared to deal with that?"
"What they choose to believe or accept is their problem. Our relationship is our own, and if we need fight for it, then it is ours to fight for."
"That was rather eloquent," he said.
"It was a choice I made when I decided to love you, Jonathan Archer. And now it is a choice we are making together… unless you were trying to talk me out of marrying you?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow in teasing.
"No no, I'm not trying to talk you out of it," he said quickly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring. "But you need to let me do this right," he declared, pushing her gently back into her chair.
"I was unaware there was a right and wrong way to do it," she said bemusedly, watching as he dropped to one knee in front of her and pulled something out of his pocket.
"Oh, there is," he assured her as he opened up a jewelry box. "Now, I don't know how Vulcans feel about wearing jewelry, or rings in particular, but this is an old earth custom, so humor me." She nodded slightly and he continued. "T'Pol, I love you and I want to share my life with you. You bring logic and order to my life, and I couldn't live without it. Will you marry me?"
"Yes, I will marry you. You are correct, we love each other, so it is the logical thing to do."
Pulling the ring out of it's velvet casing, he started to slip it on her finger before hesitating. "Are you comfortable wearing this?" he asked. "Or should I put it away somewhere, maybe find a chain for you to wear it on?"
"Jonathan, it is clearly a custom that is important to you," she told him, taking the ring from him and beginning to slip it on the first finger of her right hand. "I believe that I can… It does not fit," she said, staring down at it.
Fighting a grin, he pulled it off and placed it on the correct finger. "It goes here," he told her, slipping it into place.
"That is part of the custom?" she queried, realizing that she had seen many humans on earth wearing a band on the third finger of their left hands.
"It is," he confirmed, admiring the way the gold glimmered against the pale green of her skin.
"Jonathan," she said, pulling his gaze up to her face. "I did mean what I said earlier. There will be people upset with the idea of our relationship, but we do not need to concern ourselves with that overmuch. And if it comes to it, we can fight for what is ours."
Lifting himself up slightly, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. Her words, the devotion they expressed, it touched him, and he wanted to show her that. But as always, as soon as he felt her lips against his, he was lost in a completely different wave of feelings. Standing and pulling her up with him, he tugged her in closer, reveling in the sensation of her body against his.
Despite knowing there would be discouragement coming from all sides; standing there, kissing her, he could feel nothing but excitement about what their future might hold. There would be battles to be fought, but if they faced them together, and with tonight's decision firmly in mind, then they were already won.