The lights were dimmed. Five candles burned in a semicircle around T'Pol. She was sitting on the floor meditating. Trip had brought her back to her quarters and stayed with her for a while. But she had wanted to be alone, so he finally gave in and left her to her own thoughts. After struggling for an hour, she had finally gotten her emotions under control. Now she was performing a ritualistic meditation ceremony. It involved the cleaning and arranging of some of her traditional artifacts.
She still had not heard from Phlox, so the ritual ceremony gave her something to occupy both her mind and her body while she waited. Yet, her mind still raced. Why had she dreamt that Archer was going to die? Why had she dreamt that he loved her? What had she felt just before he lost consciousness? Was Archer dead?
The door chime made her start and knock over one of the artifacts.
"Enter," she said standing up and pulling her composure together.
Dr. Phlox entered the room. The look on his face made T'Pol turn away. She tried to hide her emotions by putting her artifacts away.
"The Captain?" asked T'Pol afraid of the answer.
"He is resting," answered Phlox.
Relief swelled up in T'Pol and her eyes glistened with emotion to hear that Archer was still alive. But she didn't care. She was so happy to hear that he had not died.
"Of course," continued Phlox, "this incident set him back. The shunt that was draining fluid out of his lungs had become plugged. We fixed it. But, he did go into cardiac arrest, so his condition has deteriorated some. We can only continue to wait."
Phlox was talking to T'Pol's back. He paused and then cocked his head. "How are you holding up?"
"Me?" asked T'Pol feigning confusion. "I'm fine."
"You seemed….upset in Sickbay," prodded Phlox. "Is there something you would like to talk about? I brought some tea."
For the first time T'Pol noticed that Phlox was carrying two mugs of fragrant liquid.
"It's Glyoxal leaves. Denobuleans find it very soothing. Go on, give it a try. It's quite delicious," urged Phlox.
T'Pol took the cup, sniffed the tea and then took a small sip. She looked up in surprise. It did taste good, even for an alien beverage. The both of them sat down on her bed.
"You know, it's quite natural to be concerned when a friend is seriously injured," said Phlox. "Especially if it is someone that you…care about deeply."
T'Pol looked sharply at Phlox. "I consider the Captain to be said T'Pol defensively. "I do not like to see him injured."
"Your reaction in Sickbay was quite…strong," Phlox gently prodded.
The tea was beginning to affect T'Pol. She was tired from the events of the day. And she was tired of fighting her emotions. She let down her guard a little.
"Earlier, I was meditating in Sickbay….I had a…..dream. We were in his ready room. He and I talked…..about….exploration…..and then he died. When I woke up, he….." T'Pol could not find the words to finish. "It is….illogical," T'Pol shook her head, embarrassed.
"Ah," said Phlox. "Well, I don't think it was illogical at all. After a dream like that, and then to have the Captain go in into convulsions right in front of you. It's no wonder you were shocked."
Regarding her with sympathy, Phlox continued. "But, dreams are very natural. All humanoids dream in one fashion or another. Nobody quite understands their purpose. Different species have different views of dreams. There are some species that consider dreams to be prophetic. I can see where your dream would be quite disturbing considering the circumstances."
"Vulcans find the idea that dreams can foretell the future to be quite illogical. The Vulcan Science Academy has found no evidence than anyone can reliably predict the future." T'Pol recited this doctrine woodenly. Somehow, this knowledge did not give her any comfort.
"Well, I have to agree. But, we Denobulans regard dreams as being very healthy. In fact, we love to discuss them at great length. Debate their meaning and merit. But, I wouldn't put too much credence in the dream you had. It was probably just your subconscious trying to deal with issues that your conscious mind is not ready to," said Phlox.
"Vulcan's don't have a subconscious," T'Pol said automatically.
A gentle beep came from Phlox's pocket. "Someone has entered the sickbay," said Phlox looking at the instrument in his pocket. "I should get back. We can talk some more later." He smiled at her and left the room.
T'Pol continued to sit on the bed and sip the tea. Phlox's words echoed in her mind.
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Three days later, T'Pol entered sickbay carrying a tray of food. Archer was still asleep. She put the tray down on a table beside his bed. She had her usual breakfast of fruit and bread, but he had only toast and milk. His appetite had not yet returned.
T'Pol pushed a couple of buttons on a medical console and nodded with satisfaction. Archer's condition was improving slowly but steadily. T'Pol contemplated Archer's face. Even in his sleep he looked compassionate and strong.
T'Pol was glad that he was still asleep. It gave her a few more moments to compose herself. Yesterday, Dr. Phlox had announced that Captain Archer was expected to make a full recovery. T'Pol had been so relieved, that she had to leave the room. That night she had thought about how close she had come to loosing him. She had decided to broach the subject of their relationship. But, to tell the truth, she was nervous. What were his true feelings for her?
Archer stirred and opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds to blink the sleep out of his eyes and focus on her.
"I hope I did not disturb you," said T'Pol. "I brought you breakfast."
"No, no, you didn't wake me. I'm ready to get up," answered Archer. "I'm glad that you are here to see me." She pushed a button to raise the head of his bed as Archer pushed himself up to a sitting position.
Archer leaned back on his pillow and smiled at her. Their eyes met and locked for several long moments. T'Pol thought that she could read affection in his eyes.
"Captain….Jonathan," she said not sure how to start.
"Yes?" he said, surprised that she had used his first name.
"After…after the Orion attack," T'Pol continued hesitantly, " I…thought you were going to die."
"But I'm OK now," Archer said gently, and smiled at her reassuringly.
His warm smile gave her the courage to go on. T'Pol tentatively reached out and lightly put her hand over his. He looked down in surprise at the physical contact, and then look expectantly into her eyes.
"I…I wanted to ask you…" T'Pol started.
"Hey! So this is where the party is!" Trip's voice called from the sickbay doors. He and Hoshi and Malcolm streamed in.
T'Pol quickly pulled her hand away as Archer look up to greet them. Trip was carrying a tray laden with food. He ceremoniously laid the tray on a table and wheeled it over to Archer's bed.
"I'm buying breakfast today. I've got all your favorites. Eggs Benedict, bacon, sausage," said Trip cheerfully.
"Good morning, Captain. You're looking good today," continued Hoshi.
Archer grinned broadly at his friends. T'Pol shrunk back a little from the group. She watched as the four humans began to chatter cheerfully.
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That night, T'Pol meditated in her quarters. For the first time in several days her thoughts were not as chaotic. Seeing the Captain stronger, and in good spirits had a …calming effect on her.
She opened the door to her emotions and examined her love for Archer….Jonathan. But this time she was able to hold herself apart. Examine it like it was one of her mediation artifacts. Yes, she loved him. But there was no logical way to further the relationship and still stay on Enterprise. Starfleet would not allow it. The situation wasfine the way it was. She was able to interact with him daily, several times a day. It was more than most married couples did. Yet, it was still….less. T'Pol sighed inwardly. No, she told herself. This was better. Besides, what if she had misread Jonathan's emotions. What if he did not actually love her. Then, she may be tempted to leave Enterprise as Trip had done. Yes, the status quo was the best she could hope for she told herself. So she neatly folded up her feelings and put them back in their corner. And then she firmly closed the door on them, including the vague sense of regret.
The End