Author's Note: Thanks to ARCHANGEMON for such an enthusiastic review -- glad you are enjoying this! And yeah I guess it could have ended where it did, but I seem to start stories thinking they'll end within 15-20 pages and then somehow they continue of their own accord. Hope you'll enjoy the journey. :)

Chapter 2

The morning sun streamed in through the gap in the drapes. T'Pol opened her eyes, expecting to find Jonathan next to her. The vacant space in the double bed surprised her.

She glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was a little after 8am. That was late for her, she was accustomed to rising around 6am when on Enterprise. She noticed the bedroom door was ajar, perhaps he was in the kitchen. She was about to call his name when he walked into the bedroom with a tray laden with food.

Placing the tray on his side of the bed, he sat by T'Pol. "Good morning, sweetheart." He cupped her cheek with his right hand, stroking it gently with his thumb. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

"Good morning, Jonathan," she answered, returning his kiss. "I didn't expect to wake up alone," she told him, in a disappointed manner.

"I'm sorry. But I woke up about an hour ago and I noticed you were fast asleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"You should have. You know I usually rise much earlier than this."

"True, but I thought you might need the rest…you know after last night."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You think I need the rest more than you? You seem to forget I'm Vulcan."

"How could I forget?" he replied. "As a Vulcan you can go days without sleep." He chuckled to himself. Teasing her was fun.

"Thank you for the consideration."

"Always," he said in a serious tone and lightly kissed her again, then smiled.

He was happy — that much was obvious. She hadn't seen him this happy since…well she couldn't recall. Maybe since Enterprise's maiden voyage when the docking clamps had been released and he'd given Mayweather the order to set off in the direction of Qu'onos — his dream of so many years, finally fulfilled.

She studied his face. He looked well rested, his eyes were bright and luminescent, and his skin had a healthy glow. He wore a loosely tied bathrobe with chest hair peeking out. He looked…incredible. Just the sight of him made her heartbeat quicken and sent tingles down her spine. What was wrong with her?

She tried to understand herself. He was an attractive human male — it was fine to appreciate his aesthetically pleasing features, but her reactions were far more than mere appreciation. She felt…desire coupled with something else. Something she hadn't yet discovered a word for yet — but it bound her to him. It made her realize that not being with him, whatever her future held, was unfathomable. Her fate had been sealed. She belonged to him and he to her. Simply put, there was no other logical course.

"So you want some breakfast?" he asked.

"Please." She hadn't asked him what he'd prepared but since he'd known her for 10 years she'd assumed he'd brought her something she'd find edible. She recalled her first ever dinner on Enterprise when Trip had teased her about how she'd tackle the spare ribs. Jonathan had obviously noted the look of dismay on her face and quickly reassured her that he'd made Chef aware of her dietary requirements.

He placed the tray in front of her and described what was on offer. "We've got papaya fruit, mango, watermelon, galia & honeydew melon and kiwi. I've also got some less exotic selections in the kitchen if this doesn't take your fancy."

"Did you know I was staying last night?" she asked, amazed that he had this selection of fruit all prepared.

"No. If I had I'd have bought this stuff myself. I gave my doorman a generous tip and he ran down to the local grocery store for me."

"I see, thank you. All of this looks delicious."

"Tuck in then," he encouraged, handing her a fork off the tray.

She noted there were two glasses of orange juice on the tray, but no second plate of fruit or anything else for Jonathan. "Where's your breakfast?"

"I was going to whip up an omelette as soon as I'd got your fruit prepared. I seem to have such an appetite this morning!" he answered, taking a swig of juice from his glass.

"You should have eaten first."

"I'm fine, but thanks for the concern. I can make it while you're in the shower. That way you won't have to put up with the smell of the eggs cooking. By the way I did something else I'm not sure you'll be happy about."

"What?" she asked, after swallowing a mouthful of melon.

"Well I thought you might appreciate a change of clothes since you didn't plan on staying over last night. On impulse I called Hoshi and asked her to get a few of your things together. I know you were both assigned to the same apartment building. I asked Ben, the doorman, to pick them up on his way back from the grocery store."

"Hoshi didn't ask questions?"

"Well I simply explained you'd come over late last night and you were tired so I'd suggested you spend the night here."

"I see. And your doorman?"

"Oh Ben knows you're my former first officer. He probably thinks it's all business."

"I'm not upset, Jonathan. I think it was very kind of you to do this. However, knowing Hoshi I think she might have guessed the truth but didn't want to let on."

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Just womanly intuition I suppose."

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all. Do you?"

"No," he answered.

T'Pol finished her breakfast and then had a shower. Jonathan brought in the bag Hoshi had packed for her, and left it on the bed. He strolled back into the kitchen and made his omelette. After finishing that he didn't feel completely full, so decided to make himself an old childhood treat: waffles.

He checked the cupboard first to make sure he had adequate supplies of maple syrup, and then made up the mixture to pour onto the waffle iron. T'Pol appeared out of the bedroom, pristinely dressed without a hair out of place. She wore black pants and a blouse that seemed familiar.

"You look gorgeous," he complimented her. "Have you worn that blouse before?"

"Ah, you remember. I've had it my possession almost seven years but never had an opportunity to wear it again since then."

He remembered! That was the blouse she'd worn under her jacket on their time travel trip to Detroit that Daniels had sent them on.

"It suits you, you could have worn it in your off hours on the ship."

She walked up behind him, entwining her arms around his waist.

Jonathan closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of her feminine hands around his stomach. This was real, not a fabrication of his imagination or some dream. She was here, with him.

He'd never expected her to make overt demonstrations of affection, but he had to admit this felt amazingly good.

"What are you making?" she questioned.

He turned to face her. "Something you'll probably disapprove of. It's not healthy, and it's full of fat and sugar."

"I see. Then why consume it?"

"No particular reason — I just feel like it."

Hmm…that part of humans was still hard to understand: why they would indulge in food substances that possessed no nutritional value whatsoever.

"Very well. I doubt there is any point in me lecturing you on it, so I'll just let you enjoy in peace."

"Thanks." He gave her a peck on the lips and continued to beat the mixture until it was the correct consistency. He poured it onto the hot iron and watched as it rose.

"Shall I make you one? You never know, you might like it."

"No thank you, Jonathan. I'm very full from all the fruit you prepared."

"Okay."

Jonathan sat down at the kitchen table after he'd made himself several waffles. He poured lashings of maple syrup onto each one of them. He eagerly tucked in.

"Mmm…these are delicious."

She got up from the table where she was sitting with him, and retrieved a napkin from the kitchen drawer. "Here, I believe you require this." He had traces of syrup all over his mouth.

"Thanks, sweetheart." He wiped his mouth with the napkin she'd provided.

After finishing the waffles, T'Pol offered to wash up the dishes, while he took a shower and got dressed. At first he protested, she being his guest and all, but she insisted so he agreed.

As he showered he wondered what they should do for the rest of the day. They really needed to talk about the status of their relationship, but he wanted to take her somewhere that was romantic or at least more picturesque than his apartment.

He hoped she wanted something to come of their interlude last night. While it had been incredible, he wanted it to be the start of something. Perhaps he should have made that clear last night, but he hadn't exactly been thinking straight.

He'd been overcome by his love and desire for her; there hadn't been a time for explanations. She'd melted into his arms, with an eagerness that warmed his heart. Her body had molded perfectly to his, as if they'd been made for each other. He'd been with other women before, but never had making love been this satisfying. Maybe it was because T'Pol not only satisfied his physical needs, but she quelled the loneliness in his heart, and made him feel complete.

He wouldn't believe for an instant that it meant nothing to her. She'd declared to him last night that she cared. She might not have used the words "I love you" but they weren't necessary. It could be that she just wasn't aware that what she felt for him was love.

He didn't know the ins and outs of her relationship with Trip, but he believed her when she'd told him it was something that had happened a long time ago, and that for the most part, there'd been nothing between them except for friendship. If she'd loved Trip, she would have been with him.

He opened the shower door and grabbed a towel to dry himself off with. Wrapping it around his waist, he walked into the bedroom and got dressed. Five minutes later he appeared in the living room.

T'Pol was sat on the couch, perusing the newspaper that had been delivered and sipping what looked like mint tea. She looked up as he entered.

"I made myself some tea, I hope that's alright."

"Mi casa es su casa, sweetheart," he told her, sitting next to her.

"Should I call Hoshi to ask what you just said?"

"No," he laughed, "It's an old Spanish saying which literally translated means my house is your house. People say it to their guests to make them feel at home. So you can make mint tea, take food out the fridge, whatever you want. No need to ask."

"Thank you."

He asked her what she'd like to do today, and she responded that she didn't mind as long as she was with him. It felt good to hear such a reply. He suggested they mosey on down to Half Moon Bay, a beach not far from San Francisco where he used to spend Saturday afternoons with his father as a child.

He made up a picnic basket, just as his mother had done years ago. They walked down to the garage together to take his car — the beach was too nearby to be bothered with a shuttlepod. He was about to start the engine when he told her he'd forgotten something in the apartment and he'd be right back.

A few minutes later he returned with something in a box. "What's that?" she asked.

"The Flyer." He'd never been to Half Moon Bay without it, and it didn't seem right to do so now.

Half an hour later, they were strolling onto the beach. It was a glorious day, though windy. T'Pol was grateful Hoshi had packed a jacket in the bag and that she'd brought it along.

Jonathan laid out a blanket on the sand and placed the picnic basket on it. It was too early to eat, so he unwrapped the Flyer and prepared it for flight. Checking that all was in order he picked up the remote control and navigated it into the sky.

T'Pol looked on with interest. The toy obviously held an important sentimental value to him. She assumed it had been a gift from his father.

Jonathan watched the craft propel through the air. The winds were gusty and it was having trouble. Within a few minutes the craft nose-dived into the sand. He sighed.

"You'd think after all these years I'd get the hang of it." He walked over and retrieved the craft from the ground.

"You haven't improved?" she asked.

"Nope, just as bad as when Dad tried to teach me all those years ago. He kept telling me not to be afraid of the wind."

Recalling those words, being here on the beach and having T'Pol at his side felt very familiar. Then he remembered. He'd been shot in the leg and was lying in the snow on the landing platform on Rigel Ten. His officers had pulled him inside the shuttlepod. He'd fallen unconscious from the pain, and then in his mind had been transported back to Half Moon Bay. His father was standing by him offering encouragement. The Flyer just didn't seem to fly right that day, and landed nose first on the beach. He'd looked up and seen T'Pol standing on the beach, looking on.

And now here she was, at Half Moon Bay, with him. Had the dream or vision been prophetic? At the time he'd practically hated her, resenting her presence on board his ship and her constant snide Vulcan remarks. But maybe it had been an insight into the future — showing him how important T'Pol would be in his life.

"The wind is quite strong, Jonathan. That could be the problem."

"Hmm…I doubt it. More like pilot error," he laughed.

"I've seen you pilot Enterprise. I know you graduated top of your class at flight school. You're an accomplished pilot."

"Thanks for the compliments. Anyway, at least I've kept up the tradition."

"Which tradition?"

"Oh when Dad and I came here, we always brought the Flyer."

"I see. May I try?" she asked.

"Sure." He handed her the remote control. She flew the toy with ease, the wind being no problem for her. After several minutes she landed it gently on the sand.

"Well what do you know! You're a natural, T'Pol. If only Dad could see."

He wished Henry was here, not only so he could have witnessed T'Pol's piloting skills, but to see him as a grown up and what he'd achieved. He'd fulfilled his father's dream and commanded the first warp 5 starship; he liked to think his father would be proud of him. And now he was part of an interspecies treaty creating many new allies for Earth.

But not just for that reason. He'd have loved for his father to meet T'Pol, to see that not all Vulcans were the same. He'd have wanted him to know that he'd found happiness with a woman who returned his feelings and who he wanted to share a future with.

They ate their lunch on the beach. Jonathan had made T'Pol a salad and a turkey sandwich for himself. After lunch he suggested they go for a walk.

Taking her hand in his, they strolled along the water's edge. The mood was right, the scenery beautiful and even the acoustics were perfect: a lone seagull flew overhead calling to its fellow gulls resting on some rocks and the waves crashed against the shore.

"T'Pol," he started, "…last night…we didn't really discuss what happened. I mean things happened kinda fast and…"

"I agree. We should discuss it."

He stopped walking and turned to face her. "I love you," he said, taking her in his arms. "Last night was only the beginning for me. But I need to know if you and I are in the same place as far as us is concerned."

"I want there to be an us, Jonathan. Last night was also only the beginning for me. I could not have…no, I would not have been intimate with you last night if I'd only meant it to be a one time thing."

He hugged her to him, in blissful contentment at her response. He held her for a moment or two, just enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Then they continued to walk along the shoreline, with his arm around her waist, resting lightly on her hip.

"So where do we go from here, sweetheart?"

"We both agreed last night that we'd wasted a lot of time. I don't want to squander anymore."

"I don't either," he replied, wondering if she was heading in the direction he thought she might be.

"I believe humans engage in a trial period called dating when they agree to pursue a relationship."

"Yeah, that's usually what happens."

"Do you think that is necessary for you and I?"

"What do you think, T'Pol?" He was unsure how to answer at the moment and wanted to hear her opinion.

"I asked the question first. Are you hesitant in answering it?"

Again, with her amazing acuteness she'd hit the nail straight on the head. "Okay, well I think I know you pretty well. I mean we've practically lived together for the last ten years on Enterprise, though I'm sure if we did actually live together in the literal sense — like share quarters for example, you could still surprise me with a few things."

"Agreed. I think the same could be said for both of us. But I meant in regard to who you are as a person and your traits. I feel I am well acquainted with both. I do not require this trial period," she explained.

"Okay."

She added, "I knew many years ago that if you were ever favourable to having a relationship with me, that you would be the man of my choice."

"T'Pol, I had no idea. When was this?"

"I think I knew for certain around April 2153."

Around the time before they'd entered the Expanse. "May I ask what brought this on?"

"It came to me in what one would call a moment of revelation — I'm sure you've experienced similar."

He nodded. She continued, "Ambassador Soval was talking to me outside of Starfleet Headquarters, telling me I had to return to Vulcan. It was then I realized I had no intention of obeying his orders and I would resign my commission and follow you into the Expanse."

Jonathan's eyes grew wide at her revelation. "Are you saying—"

"That I went into the Expanse because of my personal feelings for you? Yes, Jonathan."

He was speechless! Seven years…seven long wasted years. All that time he'd been sure she'd come along out of some sense of loyalty to the crew and to him. But personal reasons? Never! The idea hadn't even entered his brain.

"I feel so stupid," he said. Thinking back to that day in his Ready Room and her insistence to stay aboard the ship because he needed her, the signs were all there. He just hadn't picked up on them.

"Jonathan, there's no need to feel that way. I could have said something, but I was uncertain if my feelings would be favourably received. I had an inkling you cared for me in that way, but I was not entirely convinced. Then when you seemed to pull away from me…I told myself I'd been mistaken."

He stopped and held her by the shoulders, as he often had before. "Oh, sweetheart, no you weren't mistaken. God, what an ass I am! I should have had the courage to tell you long ago. You were right, so much time has gone by and we could have been together."

He sighed, thinking about all those lonely nights he'd spent in the Expanse, hating himself for some of the decisions he'd made. It would have been soothing to have someone to talk to, who could have reassured him. Instead, he'd pushed her away, and isolated himself from the entire crew.

"I wanted to tell you the day we got back from the hearing with the Vulcan doctors but I chickened out like an idiot! " He paused for a moment.

"I almost tried again after you told me that Koss had had your marriage dissolved. When we were on Vulcan with the Syrannites, I felt something between us that had been absent in the Expanse. I felt like we'd become close again, and I almost convinced myself that you had feelings for me. But I told myself to stop fantasizing because you were a married woman, and even if you did feel something, I had no right to ask you to demonstrate those feelings or emotions."

"I felt it too, Jonathan. But let us desist with the what-ifs. We cannot change the past, and dwelling on it will make us both feel sad for what could have been. But we still have the future ahead of us."

"Thanks for the pep talk, sweetheart. I needed it." He kissed her on the forehead and gently on the nose, then moved down to her lips. He wasn't one for overt displays of affection in public, but the beach was deserted so he kissed her full on the mouth.

Life was almost too good to be true! Here he was with the woman of his dreams, and from the sounds of it, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She didn't even want to wait and see if they were compatible. In her own words she'd said she didn't need a trial period.

They continued to walk along the beach.

"Jonathan?"

"Yes?"

"You haven't shared your thoughts with me on how you view our relationship."

"Oh." There was something he wanted to ask her, but he wondered if it was too soon. She had said she didn't need to date, but what he had in mind was a lifetime commitment. Should they rush into something like that so fast? He was also nervous. What if she said no? He'd rather live in this temporary bliss not knowing her answer, than being rejected.

He knew there would never be another woman for him. T'Pol was the love of his life, and he'd felt that way for almost ten years. It wasn't going to change now. If for some reason her answer to his question was no, he knew he was facing spending the remainder of his years alone.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "I sense you feel some trepidation in expressing your thoughts.

He gave her a half-smile. "How do you know?" She was right, but he was curious as how her guesses were always accurate.

"I believe I've been attuned to your behaviour for quite some time. It is not difficult to decipher your moods. The human visage is full of expressions, yours especially. It only took me a few weeks to learn the basics, and then within a year of knowing you I felt I could read you rather well."

"I'm impressed."

"So what is it you are uncertain of?" she asked, not wanting to get off the topic at hand. She wanted to understand him completely. Something was bothering him — she wished to discover what it was. Maybe he didn't feel the same as her, though his actions seemed to prove otherwise, and his verbal expressions reiterated just how much he did care.

It could be that he wanted this trial period that humans ritualistically undertook. If that was true, then for him, she would undertake it. But for her it was unnecessary.

He was quiet, not answering. He must be mulling things over in his mind. She wondered if he was insecure. She had very little knowledge of his previous relationships. The only one she was certain of was his relationship with the captain of the Columbia, Erika Hernandez. They'd obviously been others, but she was not privy to them. Had someone in his past hurt him deeply? Was that the reason behind his hesitation?

"Jonathan, talk to me, please. If something is troubling you, I would like it if you could feel free to share it with me."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I seem so lost in thought. First of all, I can't get over the fact that you've had feelings for me for so long and secondly…"

"Secondly what?"

Not brave enough to answer yet, he thought kissing her might be a distraction from her line of questioning, so he took her in his arms.

As they broke apart, T'Pol commented, "While that was very…pleasing, you still haven't answered my questions."

So much for that idea! Maybe he should lay the cards on the table and say what he wanted. He'd only done this once before in his life and the answer had been in the negative. Back in his youthful days, he'd been a romantic, believing in the fairytale ending. Life had quickly given him a reality check. Margaret Mullin's refusal had hurt like hell for months.

He didn't want to go through that again.

"Okay, I'm nervous," he admitted. "Can we talk about this later?"

"You will not feel nervous later?"

"I don't know. I probably will."

"Jonathan, you talk in riddles. Is this normal behaviour for human males when it comes to relationships?"

"Umm…I haven't done a survey."

"I did not wish to make you uncomfortable. You yourself started the topic when you asked me where we go from here."

"That's true." He just hadn't anticipated her telling him she'd had feelings for him for the last seven years. That had thrown him completely off-balance.

"I will not ask any further if you require more time to think."

"Maybe later this evening, okay?"

She nodded. They continued to walk along the shore for another half an hour, then realizing how far they'd travelled from where the car was parked, decided to turn around and head back in that direction.

"They've offered me a position as Admiral," he told her as they made their way back.

"Have you accepted?"

"Not yet. I don't know if it's what I really want."

"What do you want, Jonathan?"

"I don't know if I like the idea of being stuck behind a desk. The explorer in me isn't dead yet."

"I'm sure he isn't," she mused. "But have you considered that you might have more of a chance for a personal life being stationed here on Earth?"

"No, I guess I didn't think of it in that light."

"And it wouldn't be as if you'd never step foot on a starship again."

That was true. Admirals were often asked to accompany vessels on shorter missions. It wouldn't be the same as being captain, if he did go he'd only be there as an observer. But still…it would be a chance to explore strange new worlds.

"Have you had any job offers, T'Pol?"

"A few."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Erika Hernandez is looking for a new first officer and asked if I was interested. I recommended Lieutenant Reed. The Earth embassy on Vulcan offered me a diplomatic position — it sounds interesting."

"Oh." That would mean she'd be living on Vulcan. "Any others?"

"I have an appointment with Admiral Gardner tomorrow, I assume that is to discuss my future career advancement."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he had a ship lined up for you."

"Perhaps."

"Would you like that?" he asked.

"Being Captain full-time? I might."

She hadn't mentioned any job offers which could entail her staying on Earth. He was glad he hadn't asked a certain question earlier. It seemed obvious now the answer would have been no. Maybe her idea of a relationship would be to occasionally get together whenever she visited Earth or he happened to be passing by Vulcan.

"Well if you get your own command, I know you'll excel. There were often times aboard Enterprise I thought you made a better captain than me."

"That's generous of you to say. However, I do believe I learnt a lot from your style of command. That knowledge would be immensely useful if I were to ever be the commanding officer of an Earth ship with an Earth crew."

Jonathan didn't say anymore, and they walked quietly back to where they'd left the blanket and picnic basket. He started to pack up their things. T'Pol noted his mood had turned rather sombre.

"Do you have plans for this evening?" she enquired.

"No, do you?"

"If you'd like, we could go to dinner together."

"Sounds great! Any place you have in mind?" Her suggestion perked him up. For the time being, he'd just concentrate on enjoying her company and living hour by hour.

"I was hoping you'd suggest someplace. My preference would be somewhere quiet and inconspicuous."

"I can think of a few establishments that fit that description. When I get back to the apartment I can call and make reservations." He glanced at his watch; it was just after 3pm.

"Should I take you back to your place or you coming home with me?"

"I'd like to come back with you, unless of course you'd like to be alone for a while."

"No, I don't want to be alone. That's the last thing I want." Closing the gap between them, he took her in his arms. "I've had my fill of lonely days and nights. Nothing could make me happier than being with you," he whispered into her ear.

"The feeling is mutual, Jonathan." She pressed her lips against his in a gentle kiss, which soon transformed into a more heated embrace. She ran her fingers through his hair and then tickled the base of his neck. He squirmed, laughing.

"You're sensitive there," she noted.

"Not the only place, sweetheart."

His remark sounded like a challenge to discover the other places.

He took her hand and they walked back up to his car. He suggested they stop by her place in case she wanted to pick up something to wear to dinner. She agreed that it would be a good idea.

He waited in the car outside her apartment building while she went inside to get a few things. He felt a little confused. Just before they'd left the beach she'd remarked that she felt the same way — that being with him made her happy. If that was true, then perhaps it would be worth plucking up the courage to ask her that all important question. They could tackle the question of her career choice after that.

Whilst earlier he'd decided not to ask for fear of rejection, now the prospect of never knowing if she'd really commit to him or not was worse than being rejected.

Maybe he would ask…later tonight.

In the apartment building, T'Pol rifled through her suitcase which she hadn't had a chance to unpack yet and put a bag of items together. She was uncertain whether she'd be returning here tonight. Jonathan might ask her to spend the night. In view of that she packed her robe and night-clothes.

Her task complete, she returned to Jonathan downstairs.

TBC