Two Things Are Certain
A/N: Archangemon – thanks for your review; I'm glad you were honest. I'll give my intention in I think the longest author's note I've ever written. I'll start by saying: I think my intentions were good, I think I just lack the skill to deliver my intentions.
Throughout this story, and I probably haven't doing a very good job of describing this, Archer's made a lot of sacrifices … at least from his POV. He's accepted the whole "she needs to be Vulcan" thing before landing on the planet. He's accepted other Vulcans will turn their noses up at him, that he has to meet the in-laws, wear new clothes to impress them, act differently and help T'Pol through Pon Farr. He's really bent over backwards, including mentally and physically putting himself in danger.
Although Archer was aware that T'Pol had feelings for Trip when they were together; he didn't know that she was fantasizing about Trip their first night together. That was really the intention: to show she was thinking of Trip and not Archer. What a blow to the ego!
I think these two things (accepting so much and being forced to see into T'Pol's mind – watching Trip and her couple) together have made him feel used and confused.
Things that hurt us often come back to haunt to us – even if we thought we'd accepted it. I think it happens in real life, and I've tried to illustrate it in the story not just with Archer and T'Pol, but also with Rama and Surak. Rama has always been in love with Surak. She has her opportunity to act on it, but finds out Surak will always think of his dead wife romantically – not her. I think, right or wrong, it adds a layer to the Vulcan story – finding logic through love. Besides, in a way, T'Pana, Surak and Rama are like Archer, T'Pol and Trip. I've been trying, obviously unsuccessfully, to allude to that point.
Here's the other thing. If bonded, Archer and T'Pol will share every thought. Every thought. Although Archer has accepted the idea that she and Trip were together, he's got to get over the image of seeing it happen and feeling used. (By the way, T'Pol was never trying to make Trip jealous; she was only trying to comfort herself.)
I have to admit, there's some contrivance here: this challenge had to be bigger than the last one (where he was scaling Mt. Selaya) and it has to be something that almost ends their relationship or at least gives them serious pause. Nothing like bringing up old wounds! And, I've always wanted to see something that will either show up in this chapter or the next one.
This is purely from my point of view. Your opinions, the readers, are more important. I can show intention, but not success. Anyway … onto the next chapter.
All: My apologies for taking so long with this chapter.
After meditating mostly unsuccessfully for a few hours, T'Pol sat on her bed with her knees drawn to her chest. Perhaps she could understand his dilemma: although all the events Jonathan saw were in the past, it brought feelings of insecurity. His ego, and he had one, was bruised.
As she blinked at the ceiling, she could feel the embers of Pon Farr singeing her insides. It reminded her that she'd been ignoring it all evening. Using her bond, she recognized he was brooding over his own thoughts, but ... he was awake. So, she wandered to his room and hung in his doorway, knowing he was aware of her presence.
"What?" he snapped.
"I thought perhaps we could talk?"
Gingerly walking on the balls of her feet, almost tip-toeing into the darkened room, she sat on the edge of his bed.
"I don't want to talk," he said, robotically. He rolled over, throwing the covers closer to his chin.
"No doubt Sovok is testing our relationship. When he indicated Vulcans hear every thought, he was correct. I'm certain this test is to prepare you for that."
"I know." Sitting up a little, he said to her darkly. "Just like I know your need drove you here."
Her breath caught in her throat. "That's not the primary reason. I wished to discuss what happened."
"You can't hold out that long," he said.
Instead of lovingly take her lips in his, as he'd done almost every moment she'd requested his help, he began stripping out of his clothes – hurrying to get it over with.
Shivering, she shook her head and whispered into the night air, ignoring his nakedness.
"Jonathan … I want us to resolve this before we …."
His fingers worked at her pajamas and she grabbed his hand.
She said, "It's important to me that we come to some understanding first."
"All right," he said, unconvinced.
"I know this has been difficult."
He didn't disagree.
"I know you have made … sacrifices. And I'm certain seeing into the past was …."
He waited.
Her fingers touched his jaw. "I call tell your self-confidence has waned."
Swallowing, he glanced away. "How would you feel, T'Pol, if the shoe were on the other foot?"
"No doubt the same."
Silence rang out.
"Look into my thoughts," she said. "Look into our bond."
The two of them were in a shuttle, heading from Enterprise back to Earth. Instead of jabbering away as he piloted them, Archer was quiet. He had been ever since the two had joined in a meld and she had seen him, many of his thoughts and feelings. The physical and mental union they'd experienced together was intense.
She wrapped her fingers around his hand and gleaned his emotion: there was a weepy quality to his thoughts, but not sadness. Leaning in she stared at the man, wondering what he was thinking.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said hoarsely. A smile spread over his lips, which seemed just as incongruous with the emotions that radiated from him.
"The emotion you are feeling – what is it?" she asked.
"Love."
Closing her eyes, she sunk into her own thoughts. The emotion felt like a welling of the heart and then constricting. The pit of his stomach was tied in knots and he had difficulty breathing.
"It makes you want to cry?"
"I guess so."
"I thought tears meant unhappiness. I didn't gather you were sad."
"Sometimes tears can be blissful," he said with difficulty. She reached into his thoughts again. Laying there, somewhere just beyond the surface, she understood that he'd admitted to himself he would give her anything and everything he had -- his money, his wealth, his life and his soul.
And with that, she spied a solitary tear roll down his cheek. Breaking the grip -- from their hands clutching each other -- she reverently she collected it onto her finger and studied the water and him. Instead of looking at her, he kept his eyes ahead attempting to focus on the shuttle and regain control.
She'd never seen Jonathan cry. Never. It was only one tear, but for him it seemed like a torrent. Even when he'd learned of the death of a friend – A.G. Robinson – even when he'd had to clone Trip and condemn Sim to death; Jonathan Archer always kept his sentiments bottled up. She'd gathered he always had.
It meant he was lost in the moment ... The interesting thing was: so was she. Her katra felt full with him, as if her soul was constricting and yearning with the same pulsing beats as his.
Closing her eyes, she notched this minute into her memory.
"Your mind, body and katra are … exquisite," she said. The man beside her, all of him, was beautiful. She wanted to say so much more.
"You ain't too bad yourself." His lips twitched and his eyes and cheeks sported crinkles; he gave a small smile as he glanced at her.
She loved him.
"That it is the epitome of my feelings for you," she said. "It is what I remember when I think of you."
"I know you love me." Their fingers fell away from each other's temples.
"Do you?"
His head hung down against his chest. After a few minutes of silence, she brought up something that had been plaguing her mind.
"I have been thinking about Rama frequently lately."
He furrowed his brow. "Your cousin?"
"No. Surak's friend. She was a woman dedicated to Surak ... willing to risk life, wealth, reputation, pride … everything … to be with him even though she knew he would never return those feelings."
"Yeah. That's what your aunt said. Seems sad," he said.
By the look in his eye, she could tell he was still waiting for an explanation.
"In many ways you remind me of her."
At his further confusion, she finished her thought. "In the shuttle and so many times before and since, like Rama, you were willing to give me everything because you couldn't ignore your heart. That is the essence of love."
He didn't respond.
"Are things so different now?"
Sighing, he shoved a hand in his hair. "Are you asking me if I still love you?"
She didn't answer.
"I do. It's just … what you've asked of me …."
"Are you unable to give?" she asked.
The corners of his lips turned down. "No."
"Then what is it? Do you not trust me?" she asked.
"No, that's not it."
Finally, he looked into her eyes, and she saw a glimpse of pain. "You're right. My ego smarts. I trust you, but … sometimes I wonder if you wouldn't be better off with Trip."
She raised her eyebrow. That was an answer she didn't expect. "Why?"
He shrugged. "He's younger; he'll live longer. He excited passion in you …."
"He did once, but not now. Not in many months."
He turned his head, which caused his fingers to take his chin so he could look at her. "Do you think you stir nothing?"
"No," he said.
"You think Trip stirred more?"
Narrowing his eyes to think, he disagreed. "No. It's just ... it's uncomfortable to see into your mind and know what happened between you two. I'd rather not know."
"I know our bond has shown you things that hurt you, Jonathan. I cannot change that."
He nodded his head as if he'd already known.
"My relationship with Trip has been over for sometime. I could've rekindled my relationship with him, but I didn't. I chose you."
Biting the inside of his cheek, he averted her eyes again, a clue that he was still wrestling with his own emotions -- like self-doubt.
"As for your age; I'm older than you by twenty some years."
He shrugged.
"And Trip is only eight years your junior. It's possible he could die before you. Isn't it?"
"I suppose."
She waited for further explanation and he finally said something in a voice so hushed even she had to lean in to hear.
"It's just … sometimes I … you're so beautiful. I don't know. Sometimes I wonder why you'd be interested in me."
His confidence is hurt. Her hand wrapped around his and she gazed at him. Instead of meeting her eyes, he looked away.
"In the heat of Pon Farr, I've only wanted you."
Pushing him gently to his bed, she kissed his throat. "Let me show you how I feel about you."
He tried to squirm away from her, but she was persistent.
Whispering into his ear, she said, "I adore you. You are the only one who occupies my thoughts … my heart."
Although it was difficult, she let the remaining embers of Pon Farr sear her, ignoring the need to take him. Working her mouth onto his shoulders, her hands stroked his chest.
She said, "Your body is sensual – pleasing."
"You don't have to do this," he said.
She stared at his face. "Your eyes are mystical … hypnotic … like staring into the flame of a candle."
Kissing his mouth again, she whispered against it. "Your lips are soft and your tongue …. When our mouths touch I crave the taste of you."
Inside she smiled that he panted at her statement. It made her open her mouth and tease his tongue with hers. As his arms wrapped around her, she wiggled out of them. She wasn't finished.
Her tongue darted down his chest, licking all the spots that made him hiss in delight, until it caught his navel.
Fighting the urge to ravish him, she lovingly twirled her fingers in the hair at his stomach. "Everything about you … creates such want."
"T'Pol," he said.
Although burning, she found his lips again. "You are everything to me."
His fingers slid beneath her hair and he gasped; it was obvious he could feel how the Pon Farr was scorching her insides. "God, I feel your desire. It's ..." His mouth crashed against hers. "We should probably …."
She was determined to continue, avoiding more kisses from him, she pressed her lips against his neck and ears.
"I know I have not always been the perfect mate, but I think of you as I have no other. You are my bondmate. My lifemate. My katra belongs to only you."
"I love you, too," he said.
"And even if I was not in Pon Farr, I would still lust for you."
Her mouth caressed his temples, the area still slightly bruised. Moving his head, he tried to intercept her lips.
Sending images of love, care and passion … she hoped to get through to him. UnVulcan though it was, she displayed her fantasies about him -- he was covered with sweat, his hair damp, and he lay writhing naked on a bed pleading with her to end his longing as her mouth taunted every inch of him.
"God," he whispered. His hands fumbled to divest her of clothing, thrilled at the knowledge that she thought of him this way even out of her mating cycle.
"There's so much more," she whispered. She'd thought about the two of them in his ready room, on the bridge alone, in the turbolift ...
It caused him to smile.
"You can turn to our bond to witness this," she said. "It has always been available for you to see."
The two stared into each other's eyes and then he closed his eyes. "I see it."
"I see your passion for me as well." Touching lips with him again, she spoke in a hoarse voice. "I feel it."
His eyes flashed open -- they were dark green and wanton. Unbuttoning and removing the rest of her clothes, she couldn't wait any longer. As he was about to press his body against hers, she pushed his wrists to the bed.
"I want you," she said.
Eight o'clock arrived before either knew it. T'Pol's eyes blinked against the sun's rays that streamed into the guest bedroom. Staring over at her sleeping lover, she curled against him and watched his chest rise and fall – still sound asleep.
This has gone far enough. Too far, she thought.
Poising her lips against his skin, she silently berated herself: Vulcan robes to impress her relatives, a challenge that put him physically in danger, a mind probe that crushed his ego and sequestering herself so she wasn't overburdened with emotions.
No wonder he felt confused and hurt.
The first order of business: call off the challenge. It was pointless, hazardous and seemed detrimental to their relationship.
"Don't do that," she heard beside her.
Staring into his eyes, he seemed earnest.
"I won't let my jealousy or fear get in the way this time."
They'd had the discussion before, but now she was resolute in her decision.
"No," she said.
His finger curled against her neck and he softly kissed her lips. "I know there is no one but me in your mind. I acted stupidly."
She wasn't changing her mind. "No."
Lips traced her ear and he kissed the tip, whispering as he did, nearly tickling her skin. "T'Pol …."
"No."
He sighed and nodded quietly, gazing into her eyes. "This morning was nice."
"The urgency is gone, which enabled our union to be more … languid."
Wearing a smile he said, "I thought it was just great make-up sex. Almost makes me want to fight again."
She blinked, letting the remark stand and traced her forefinger over his grin.
"My Pon Farr is over."
His thumb brushed against her cheek. "Dr. Phlox said perhaps you should see him, or a Vulcan doctor."
"I should." Pausing, she rubbed her nose against his and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for your help."
"My pleasure," he said as he cupped her chin.
They kissed with love instead of passion. When they broke apart, a lop-sided grin smacked onto Archer's face as his toes rubbed against hers and their fingers intertwined.
"I'd like to contact Soval and ask him to allow me to see V'Lar's body today, since we have no other engagements."
Reluctantly, he nodded.
"And then we can return to Enterprise."
"You don't want to see V'Lin or your cousin, Rama, before you go?"
T'Pol's eyebrow perked up and her eyes fell on his chest. "No. Sovok would ask them to stop communicating with me."
He kissed her forehead.
Lifting her body from the bed, with regret, she placed the robe around her. When he pushed himself up the Vulcan intercepted.
"I'd like to follow an Earth custom – breakfast in bed."
He smiled. "I'd like that. Can I shower while you're in the kitchen?"
"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of breakfast in bed?" she asked.
He gave a light chuckle. "I'll come back to bed."
"Then proceed."
With that she took off to prepare the morning meal. Vulcan cuisine, like everything else in their lives, was orderly and exact. Because of the preciseness of it all, it took an hour to make even one of the most basic meals. She wanted this one to be special, so she was willing to spend a little more time. Just as she put the finishing touches on everything, she thought she heard the door close.
"Hello?" she asked, walking into the main room.
No one responded.
Padding her feet against the tiles, she walked into the guest bedroom – no one. Checking the bathroom, she noticed he wasn't there either. And then she heard a noise – the shuttle engines roar and immediately she used the bond; she knew exactly what he was doing.
Don't! she thought.
He was headed to Sovok's house without her, determined to finish the mind meld with her uncle … set on finishing the challenge.
I'm not going to allow you to be disowned, T'Pol,she heard from him.
Throwing on some clothes, she tried figuring out the most appropriate course of action. She would need a shuttle herself to stop him – Sovok lived too far away to walk … and she wouldn't reach him in time. So she contacted Rama.
Pressing her fingers along the communications console, she saw her cousin's eyebrow peak in surprise. T'Pol didn't commence with pleasantries; instead she spoke demandingly.
"You must take me to Sovok's house."
Rama knitted her brows together. "What?"
"Please, Rama, I need to reach Sovok's house. I don't have time to explain."
"Your reaction is emotional."
"I know," she admitted. When she saw her cousin wasn't responding, she sounded more needy. "Please."
T'Pol studied her cousin's face and noticed with some hesitation that she finally gave in. Although, honoring this request appeared to be the last "favor" she'd ever ask her for again.
"I will be there in approximately thirty minutes," Rama said.
She nodded, accepting the delay, and thought about contacting V'Lin or Sovok to ask them to refrain from conducting the ceremony. Pressing her finger against the button, she waited for Sovok's visage to appear and nearly gave a frown when it didn't. She attempted again with no result.
The mind meld had already begun.
Surak wouldn't allow Rama to volunteer to conduct the negotiations between the Vulcan factions; he claimed it was too risky. Vulcan – all of it – was on the brink of war.
Two days after he arrived in Sral – the location both factions had used to try and make peace, serenity came to a halt and the city trembled under massive explosions. Chaos.
War.
The suffering was great, but his dedication to peace was greater. After helping as many as he could, he traveled to the Vulcan capitol to speak to the leaders and demand order – it didn't matter which side gave in first – what mattered was peace and tranquility. What mattered was that the Vulcan race would continue – for his children … and for generations to come.
When he climbed the steps to the capitol at Shi'Kar, Rama caught him as he collapsed. Seeing the advanced signs of radiation sickness, she helped him give his last speech of harmony to the leaders of the planet. The council was divided; Surak's charge was for these leaders to give up and many were unwilling to do it.
After hours of debate, the council adjourned and Rama assisted Surak to a bed.
"I must travel to the Forge," Surak whispered.
Nodding only briefly, she understood her charge and prepared their things for the journey.
It was difficult; they traveled at a snail's pace as war raged around them. The bomb blasts could be heard through the canyons of the barren wasteland and rippled through the cracks and crevices.
Marching ahead, they found a cave in the middle of the desert, one they'd been to many times before. Kneeling to the ground, Surak's eyes focused on his friend.
"Here is where I will die," he said. It echoed against the walls.
"No."
"It is my time. I am an old man; I no longer need to cling to life."
Shaking her head, she silently disagreed. "Let me be the vessel for your katra," she whispered.
"I can think of none better."
Trembling she stroked his hair.
"That is no way for a Vulcan to act," he said. His hand caressed her face – proving that the comment was between teasing and chiding.
"I will have difficulty finding logic without you," she said. Her fingers stroked his cheek.
"You and Master Krall, Master Sont, Master T'Pran, must or war will wage forever."
Nodding, her caresses formed into the position needed for a mind meld. But, before she could begin, Surak said a few last words to her.
"You have always meant so much to me."
She kissed his hand and confessed something he knew already. "You have always meant everything to me."
When his fingers attached to Rama, she was blinded by images – brilliant ones and many … so many … involved her. She was his best friend, his greatest student and had become part of his heart, his body and his mind.
"Remember," he whispered to her. "Remember."
The soul of Surak filled her essence. Crumbling back onto the floor she stared at the vacant body and sobbed until a voice welled within her.
You must continue
Yes, she thought. She would make the trek back to find the other students and protest the war, after she buried Surak's body and left his writings behind in case the unthinkable happened – war could not be stopped.
War or no, when she was ready to die she would return to this spot, placing her katra and his in a vessel for those who needed logic and reason to guide them.
Archer landed the shuttle. Although he was dressed in human clothing, he didn't care; he told himself it wouldn't … or at least shouldn't … matter. The only thing that did was completing the challenge.
Eagerly, he made his way to T'Pol's uncle's front door. When he knocked on it, V'Lin answered, her face alight with something that mirrored restrained shock.
"Where's T'Pol?" she asked.
Archer shrugged and gave her the greeting he always did. "I came here of my own volition."
"She does not approve of you being here?" V'Lin asked.
Moving closer than he ever had to her, he shook his head. "No. But, I know what's going to happen if I don't go through with this."
"You want to continue anyway," she said. It was a statement.
"Yes."
A bland expression was the only response as the two made their way into Sovok's house. The head of the house turned the corner, walking into his living room.
"You come alone?" Sovok asked.
"I'd like to continue," Archer said. He puffed out his chest to show he meant it.
Sovok gave a near frown. "The next stage is the most challenging. You may wish she was here for support."
Sitting down on the ornate, metallic pillows that were strewn over the floor, Archer spoke with confidence.
"I'd like to begin."
Saaya, who'd wandered into the room, exchanged a glance with V'Lin.
"I don't believe that's wise," she said.
Because she spoke so rarely, Archer understood that she was worried for him. In a way, it made him more resolute.
"It probably isn't," Archer said.
Sovok nodded his head. "Very well."
The man gathered his long brown robes around him and sat across from the captain. Placing his long slender fingers along Archer's temple, he began the meld.
"My thoughts to your thoughts."
As Archer fell into a trance, suddenly the meld was averted. Blinking slowly, he wondered why Sovok ended the link.
"I have gathered what I need to from you," Sovok said.
Looking on perplexed, he waited for more information.
"The next phase is the kal'i'fee," Sovok said.
"Huh?"
"Your feelings for T'Pol are strong. Are you prepared to fight for her if she doesn't return them?"
"I don't understand."
"If you want her, you will be expected to fight the man T'Pol has chosen. It is the Vulcan way."
"What?" Archer asked. That didn't make any sense.
"You are expected to fight her champion … the man she has chosen to be with."
"I'm confused." He corrected Sovok. "She's chosen me."
"No. She has chosen someone else."
Hearing a rap on the door, the Vulcan sauntered nonchalantly to the door and opened it. He extended his hand into the Vulcan greeting at the guest who was out of Archer's line of sight.
"Welcome," Sovok said.
Standing, Archer furrowed his brow and waited for this mystery guest to enter. His mouth fell open as he watched someone he'd never expect to show up on Vulcan enter the abode.
"Hey, Cap'n," Trip said. The engineer, clad in the khaki desert gear Starfleet wore in hot climates, meandered in smiling.
"What are you doing here?" Archer asked.
"Sovok said I'm T'Pol's champion … that T'Pol wants me."
"Huh?" Archer asked. "I think you have the wrong idea."
V'Lin interrupted, concern plainly on her face. "There must be some mistake. These men are friends. They can't be expected to fight to the death."
Sovok contradicted her, shoving a hand into the air as if warning her to stop. "I read T'Pol's thoughts."
Trip gave a stern look at Archer. "I'm sorry, Jon. Sovok thought it was best to wait until after her Pon Farr was over to tell you."
Archer shook his head. This just didn't make any sense. "What?"
"You were right to be concerned, Archer. T'Pol's feelings are clearly for this man." Sovok extended his finger to point at Trip.
"No," Archer said. "This morning …."
"T'Pol is confused, but these are her thoughts," Sovok said.
"She's not confused. She cares for me," Archer replied.
Sovok asked, "Then you will fight for her?"
A furrow collected between Archer's brows as he folded his arms. "I'm not fighting him."
Sovok said, "You are not going to fight for your mate?"
"Not him," Archer said.
Trip asked, "Does that mean I win her?"
Sovok gave a brief nod.
"Win her? Wait a minute …," Archer began.
"Are you willing to fight him?" Sovok asked again. "If you want her, you must challenge your friend."
Trip spoke up. "Jon, if she wants me, let her have me."
"Why would you do this?" Archer asked Trip.
The blonde pushed a hand through his hair and made a confession. "I've never stopped thinking about her … dreaming about her. Even when we work together …."
Archer thought the two had been getting along well, but didn't think Trip was still harboring feelings.
"Listen, Trip, she doesn't want you. I don't know what Sovok has told you."
Trip disagreed. "Sovok said she burned for me. That even in Pon Farr she imagined my mouth … my body."
Archer breathed deeply and threw his eyes away from his friend. His heart began to pound in his chest as his fists clenched.
Calmly, Sovok walked to a stone table in the hallway. When he stood before two large, ornately carved boxes that looked like they were made out of something that resembled wood, his voice rumbled.
"From the time of the ancients. It is now, as it was in the beginning …."
The Vulcan picked up one box and then opened it dramatically – the top whirling into the air and then landing with a smack to the tiled floor – as Trip gathered at his side. The engineer withdrew first a long, sturdy sling and then tucked it into his belt. Next, he took out a lyrpa, a spear with a fanned-blade, and swiped it through the air. With a smile, he brought the instrument to his body.
Sovok retrieved another box as Archer felt his feet move forward.
"Take your weapons," Sovok instructed.
Just as Archer found his place next to the Vulcan, he wavered. Something wasn't right; Trip wouldn't do this. T'Pol certainly wouldn't. It didn't make any sense.
"I'm not fighting him," Archer said.
"Then you give T'Pol up without challenge?" Sovok asked.
"She wouldn't want Trip back." Archer folded his arms across his chest. At that exact moment, T'Pol entered the room throwing open the door. Instead of crossing to clear up the problem, she stared at Trip -- amazed.
As Archer was about to ask her to clear up the problem, she suddenly rushed forward and threw her arms around Trip and kissed him wildly.
Instead of disrupting the embraces, the captain watched in disbelief.
Their kisses became more intense, their lips parting, and Archer could feel the blood rush to his ears. Averting his eyes, he shook his head.
Archer said, "There's no way T'Pol would do this. It's not real."
"You see her excitement for this," Sovok said, his voice steady.
Jonathan was quiet, keeping his eyes on the ground.
Sovok circled the captain. "You see T'Pol's excitement for him."
Archer looked up; the embrace between Trip and T'Pol had turned embarrassing. His hands roamed freely and her head tilted back, delighted.
Reluctantly, he answered. "Yes."
"The burning … the craving you always assumed was for you was for him. This angers you, does it not?"
"Stop."
"For these and other trespasses, you want to fight him."
"Stop it."
"Ever since our meld yesterday, you have been thinking about the times they mated. Since you share a bond with her, you have seen that in her mind and know that it thrilled her."
"Shut up." Archer's lip involuntarily formed into a snarl.
"You know she enjoyed his hands and lips on her."
"Stop it." He'd seen a lot more. Sharing T'Pol's mind meant knowing thoughts so intimate, they should never be spoken or explored. It meant knowing Trip did please her at one time. And if he wanted to call the vision up, because of the bond, he could see their union clearly.
It was something he absolutely never wanted to do.
"You know the passion that was elicited by him. The moaning. The pleas."
The words jolted his mind and flashes of seduction tore through his brain: Trip pushing T'Pol onto the bed of her cabin, candlelight flickering off the walls, as her mouth hung open in ecstasy.
Squinting his eyes shut, he tried to blot out that vision. In desperation Archer yelled.
"No!"
Silencing his mind, he reached for a thread of T'Pol … the one that gave him stability and tranquility. But, the attempts went unanswered.
"You're blocking my thoughts," Archer said. The accusation was leveled at Sovok.
"No," Sovok said.
"She could have had you, if she wanted. But, she did not. And thus she chose him. She prefers him. She always has."
Archer remembered. In a moment of weakness, after Porthos had barely recuperated from the illness he'd contracted while on the Kretassan planet, he'd told T'Pol that he'd been attracted to her. Instead of indicating the attraction was mutual, she'd acted coy – he hadn't been sure if she'd reciprocated or not.
It wasn't long after that he'd realized it wasn't just lust, it was love. It's probably why hearing about Trip and T'Pol smarted.
Heaving, he could feel his face redden. "That was the past."
"She mated with you the first time while thinking of him."
Archer glanced at the weapon and ran his fingertips along the blade of the lyrpa. He wanted to wield the weapon, slice open Trip's stomach and crush his skull in one single stroke.
He'd told Trip, almost point blank, how he'd felt about T'Pol, or at least he'd thought he did. That night, en route to Vulcan, they'd taken a bottle of whiskey to the dark and quiet mess hall. There, Archer admitted he hadn't assigned a new science officer and Trip had seemed to understand.
"That was the past!"
The words ground out like a growl caught in the back of his throat and were delivered more for his benefit than Sovok's.
"And now you believe she cares for you? Vulcans do not easily change their minds."
Attempting to ignore Sovok's words, Archer reached out for T'Pol through his bond. He needed her strength and reassurance; he was frantic for it.
"Why would she assist you? She obviously cares for Trip."
Exasperated that he couldn't sense her, Archer imagined the desert – the light breeze whipping at the particles of sand that covered a barren land at twilight. He needed the calm, the serenity, that T'Pol brought to his mind.
Sovok said, "You must fight your friend or lose T'Pol."
Still. The desert was still – the clouds were fixed in their hazy position and the sand stayed intact in its place … every grain. Peaceful. Quiet. It was more silent than the sea, even at depth, and more tranquil than floating in the darkness at the bottom. He envisioned sitting in the lotus position as he had seen T'Pol do.
"You would let this man have her?" Sovok said.
Freeing himself of anger, Archer felt the air against his skin – it was hot and dry with a hint of night's coolness.
Composed, Jonathan's voice resembled perfect logic. "If T'Pol is intent on having Trip, she can … if that's what makes her happy. But, I don't believe it."
With another deep breath and more focus, he stared into the sky as the pink hues began to overtake clouds of swirling red and two suns fell in the sky. It was strange. Despite her absence he felt her there. It was a whisper – so faint … so hushed – and yet revitalizing. The wind carried the information: she may not be present, but he would always hear her.
Calling back, he said a few words. "I am a jealous man, sometimes a foolish one. I have pride and other distasteful emotions that lead to distrust and anger. But I'm human. And because I'm human, I can give her affection, tenderness, care and love. And it is these things she seeks from me."
Sovok walked the dune to join him. "You find refuge here?"
He smiled. "She has a way of grounding me. I came here looking for that."
"Did you find it?"
The question hung in his mind. Indeed, his soul seemed satisfied … quenched even. He had forgotten about the image of T'Pol's mouth on Trip's. And even as it popped into his brain, he didn't seem to mind – it was an illusion.
What felt real: moments like this morning. The two of them together – on the bridge, in his ready room or intertwined in each other's arms. She was his soulmate. That was a constant.
Coming here, waiting for her, reminded him that they were never parted. He didn't need to imagine a desert to get that refuge; he only needed to feel the light hum of the bond that was always there – always touching him.
"I suppose," Archer finally answered.
"Fascinating."
Sovok's hand fell away from his face and Archer opened his eyes. Everything – Trip – it all seemed so real. Too real. As the uncle stood, T'Pol who'd apparently been there for some time, rushed to Archer's side.
"Are you all right?" T'Pol asked.
Before he could ask what the hell happened, Sovok began to pepper him with questions.
"You did not choose violence, even though I could feel it well inside of you. Why?"
With T'Pol's help, he managed to make it to his feet. "Trip's my friend."
"You could tell it was an illusion?" Sovok asked.
"I don't know."
"And yet the thought of losing T'Pol sparked your anger. You showed jealousy toward your friend," Sovok said. "But you contained it … more so than you did the previous day."
Archer swallowed deeply. "I trust T'Pol. I know she wouldn't hurt me. I don't think Trip would either … not on purpose."
"Hmmmm," Sovok replied. "T'Pol, you asked Archer not to come?"
Her hand worried over Archer's face, stroking away sweat. Although speaking to her uncle, she continued to focus on her mate.
"I did not want him to face further upset or pain. I know this has been extremely challenging for him."
Archer stared into her eyes and felt the same hum that had been there … as well as her disapproval for not obeying her wishes. He produced a little smiled all the same – at the bond and at her. And despite being in the presence of her relatives who eschewed emotion, he gave her a small kiss.
Sovok interrupted with disdain. "I will have my answer to you tonight. The challenge is over," he said.
Without any further explanation or even excusing himself, he walked through the open corridors into a courtyard in the back of the house, one that was barely visible from where everyone stood.
V'Lin's eyebrows knitted as she watched. "This is unexpected."
T'Pol asked, "Why?"
The aunt hesitated. "We had anticipated this to continue for two more days." Leaning toward her niece, she said a few words the couple feared. "It does not look promising."
Archer watched T'Pol's shoulder's fall and her eyes meet the floor. With ferocity in her voice, she spoke with unrestrained emotion.
"I am not prepared to let this go unchallenged."
V'Lin raised an eyebrow. "When he makes his decision – it cannot be changed."
Without defeat the Vulcan walked to the back and stood next to her uncle. The two began to talk, and from what Archer could see it didn't look like it was going well. As Archer took a few steps toward them, V'Lin caught his arm.
"Let her speak to him alone, Jonathan."
When he opened his mouth to explain they should challenge this together, V'Lin added a few ominous words.
"She has made the situation worse. You will only exacerbate matters. There is nothing you can do now, except wait."
TBC