Chapter 3
The restaurant was just as she'd requested — quiet, inconspicuous and with the right ambience.
"Admiral Archer, how nice of you to join us this evening," the Maitre'd greeted him.
"Er…I'm not an Admiral yet," Jonathan corrected.
"My apologies, Captain. My source must have been mistaken. I'd heard rumours you were going to be promoted."
"Well it might be in the pipeline, but not decided yet."
"Well I'd like to offer my early congratulations in case it does go through."
"Thank you."
The Maitre'd showed Archer and T'Pol to their table, in a nice cosy corner of the restaurant, where hopefully no one would bother them. Jonathan ordered a bottle of champagne straight off while their server went to get the menus.
"Are we celebrating something?" T'Pol asked.
"Who knows, we might be." He gave her one of his charming grins. His mood had improved since this afternoon and he felt a bit more optimistic about the future of his love life. His eyes drank in the loveliness before him. She seemed to become more beautiful as each day passed.
They were both dressed smartly which was the dress code for this rather elegant restaurant. He was in a navy suit and she wore a long sleeved black V-necked dress that trailed just above her knees. It had afforded him ample opportunity to admire her shapely legs as they'd walked into the restaurant.
"You didn't object to the champagne last night," he whispered, tempted to lean over the table and kiss her, but didn't want anyone to notice. Instead he reached across and touched her hand.
"We were celebrating last night the fact that we'd found each other at last," she answered quietly, taking his offered hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Well let's continue along that theme, shall we?"
"I have no objections, Jonathan."
"Good." He noticed the look in her eyes, almost as if she were smiling at him. It wasn't the first time; he'd noticed it last night when he'd kissed her in his apartment.
They ordered their meals — Jonathan chose the salmon fillet, and T'Pol the vegetable platter. He poured the champagne into their respective glasses and offered a toast.
"To us, sweetheart."
She sipped the liquid and within a few seconds of swallowing felt a light buzz. She remembered she hadn't consumed anything in several hours so the alcohol was more likely to have an effect on her. She put the glass down, and decided to wait for her food to arrive.
T'Pol felt very comfortable. The atmosphere was pleasant, the food was tasty and the company was perfect. She could imagine becoming accustomed to this. Not necessarily going out every night, but being alone with him, sharing a meal and talking about the day's events. Yes they'd shared many meals onboard Enterprise, but it felt different now. They were no longer just friends.
Jonathan ate his meal with enthusiasm; everything was delicious. He asked T'Pol if her meal was satisfactory and she replied that it was. He looked up from his plate and studied the woman across from him. He watched as she loaded her fork with expertise, picking just the right combination and amount of vegetables to make a tasty mouthful. It reminded him of their very first meal together on Enterprise. He'd told her it would be easier to eat the breadstick with her fingers. She'd proven him wrong, and demonstrated that with proper discipline anything was possible. He smiled at the memory.
"Jonathan, what are you smiling at?" she enquired.
"Oh I'm just enjoying watching you eat and reminiscing over old memories."
She asked which ones and he told her.
"Yes I remember that dinner. Commander Tucker teased me about eating spare ribs." After mentioning Trip's name she wished she hadn't, as a sad expression came over Jonathan's face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you of your pain."
"No, it's okay, T'Pol. It shouldn't be as if we can't talk about him. He was a big part of our lives. Of course he's going to come up in conversation."
Wanting to change the subject to something lighter she asked if he thought Porthos would enjoy living on Earth now.
Jonathan was grateful for how she'd steered the conversation. The wound inflicted by Trip's death was still raw. It would take time to heal. But her concern for him was moving.
"Oh I'm sure he'll love it. He'll get to go walking in the parks everyday, and play with other dogs. I'm sure he won't miss Enterprise."
"I know you will."
"Yeah…I will. But like you told me last night change can be good, right?"
"Yes. Sometimes it is important to move on and not be stagnant."
They finished up their meal and T'Pol, knowing he had a sweet tooth, asked him if he wanted dessert.
"Mmm…wouldn't mind. But it's no fun sitting here indulging and you just watching me. Perhaps we could share something?" he suggested.
He motioned the waiter over to their table and requested a copy of the menu, which was brought to him. Passing it to T'Pol he asked her to pick something that she thought they could share.
"I think the apple pie might be acceptable."
"Great idea, T'Pol! It won't be overly sweet and if you don't have it a la mode there's no risk of eating dairy. So shall we go for it?"
She nodded, noting how enthusiastic he'd become about ordering a simple dessert. She surmised his joy was rooted in the fact that they were indulging in the consumption of non-essential foods together, in other words as co-conspirators.
Jonathan ordered his desert heated and with ice cream but requested that T'Pol's be served plain.
The waiter served their desserts and T'Pol noted how large the portions were. "We could have shared one slice," she observed.
"Mmm…maybe." Jonathan wasn't convinced — he thought the portions were just perfect and savoured every bite.
"Jonathan?"
"Yes?"
"You might want to wipe the ice cream from the corners of your mouth."
"Okay, thanks." He took a napkin and wiped the evidence away.
T'Pol watched him with mild amusement. He was like a 5 year old child when it came to indulging his sweet tooth — it was intriguing to see what could make him happy. She was glad that his spirits seemed to have lifted. Back on the beach this afternoon she'd noticed he'd seemed quiet and almost sullen. They still hadn't really discussed their relationship; at least to the depth she'd wanted. She'd told him how she felt, or at least she thought she'd been clear about her feelings. She was anxious to hear his feelings on the matter and how they would proceed from this point.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a large group of people enter the restaurant and create a lot of noise. She glanced in the direction of the commotion and saw a young woman all clad in white, with a veil on her head reaching down to the floor. By her side, was a young man, he looked a few years her senior dressed in a tuxedo. Accompanying them was a large crowd of people, probably made up of family members and friends.
Jonathan turned around to see what T'Pol was staring at. "I guess they're having their wedding reception here. They make a cute couple."
"Yes," she mused. "They look very much in love."
"How can you tell?" Jonathan asked.
"It's just an assumption, but if you look at the way she's clinging onto him, the smile on her face, and the gleam in his eyes, I would surmise both of them are rather happy right now. Would that not indicate that were in love?"
"You can see a gleam in his eye from here?" he asked, amazed at how strong her eyesight was.
"I believe so. You don't agree that they are happy?"
"Oh sure, they look happy, but maybe the cynic in me says appearances can be deceiving. Or maybe I'm wondering if five years down the line she might not be filing divorce papers against him."
"I did not realize you had such a bleak outlook on marriage, Jonathan."
"I don't. It's just statistics. Humans don't have a great track record when it comes to commitment. Fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce in the United States alone."
This discussion made him think of Margaret. They'd dated for several years and he'd thought he knew her so well that when he'd proposed he'd been certain she would answer yes. Her refusal had been totally unexpected.
"Perhaps if people took these commitments more seriously, there would not be such a high divorce rate. Divorce is almost unheard of on Vulcan."
"Then I guess humans might need to take a cue from your people."
"Do you not believe in marriage, Jonathan?" For her people, it was the only logical way.
"Of course I do," he answered, touching her hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound depressing. I think if two people are really in love, it's a wonderful way to express that love and make a commitment to each other. Just on Earth, it doesn't always work out. I think you are right — people need to take these commitments more seriously. If divorce wasn't so readily available maybe they'd work at their relationships a bit more before giving up so quickly."
"But I sense something bothers you. Is it something from your past?"
"You're not only beautiful, but extremely intuitive. T'Pol, I'm amazed. Something happened to me a long time ago, I thought I was over it."
"Would you like to tell me what this incident was?"
"Yeah…but not here. I'll pay the check and we can go back to my apartment."
She nodded in accord and Jonathan motioned the waiter over.
As they left the restaurant, they passed by the area where the wedding reception was taking place. The guests were raising their glasses in a toast to the happy couple. "I wish them luck," Jonathan whispered.
-----
Jonathan lay sprawled across his couch, with T'Pol in his arms. He reached over to the coffee table to take a sip of brandy he had remaining in his glass.
"Where was I?" he asked, finishing off his drink and returning the empty glass to the coffee table.
"You'd picked out a ring, and had planned to propose to Margaret that evening. You'd wanted to announce to your friends that you were engaged after the graduation ceremony."
"Right. Well that evening, the night before graduation we'd gone out to dinner. I walked her back to her home on Westgate Avenue. I stood on her front porch and proposed."
"And?" T'Pol was on the edge of her seat.
"She said no. Just like that. I don't think I'd ever been more surprised in my life. I was young, naïve and very much in love. I hadn't had my romantic idealism kicked out of me yet, though standing on that step listening to her refusal I was headed in the right direction."
"Jonathan…" T'Pol thought how the refusal must have pained him. She caressed his cheek with her fingers. He brought them over to his lips and kissed each finger on her hand individually.
"It was a long time ago, sweetheart. Don't concern yourself."
"But is this why you said in the restaurant that the bride might divorce the groom in five years?"
"I suppose. I guess I let the cynic in me raise his ugly head."
"Margaret wounded you deeply."
"Oh yeah…at the time I was pretty inconsolable. The months following that are kind of a blur…I guessed I spent many an evening in bars drowning my sorrows."
She could picture in her mind's eye a young man of 24, heartbroken and devastated going from bar to bar trying to block out his emotional pain. She never wanted to cause him such pain. Had her very brief relationship with Trip done so? She hated to think that.
She kissed him, wanting to soothe him. "I promise I will never cause you such pain."
"T'Pol—" She didn't need to say such things.
"No, I promise. I want my presence in your life to only bring you happiness."
He smiled. "It does, sweetheart."
This seemed like an opportune moment to ask a certain question. He seated himself upright. His stomach was knotted from nerves. The last time he'd done this…well it was a long time ago and he was very out of practice at making romantic speeches. But it was now or never.
"Speaking of happiness, T'Pol, there's something I want to ask you."
"Yes?"
His heart was pounding in his chest. What if she said no? Don't be such a coward! All he had to do was put one sentence together and ask a simple question — it wasn't Einstein's theory of relativity for crying out loud!
T'Pol understood he wanted to ask her something important. Today on the beach when she'd asked him about their relationship he'd been hesitant to express his true feelings because of nerves. She'd tried to make it easier for him, explaining she didn't need a trial period to get to know him, hoping he would have understood her implications.
He still hadn't asked whatever it was he wanted to ask. "Jonathan?"
"I'm sorry, sweetheart…I just want to phrase this right."
"Whatever it is, I don't need fancy words," she replied.
"Okay," he smiled. "Point taken." He took a deep breath and started to speak.
"The day Soval assigned you to Enterprise I wanted to strangle him. But things change and people change — I know I have. Within six months of you boarding my ship, I'd formed a kinship with you. You were my friend, my confidante, my trusted advisor and counsellor. But it wasn't until the High Command threatened to take you away from me that I realized just how much you meant to me. For me it was unthinkable to not have you at my side. I didn't acknowledge the extent of my feelings, I just knew I'd be lost without you.
Then when I found out you had Pa'nar and again they wanted to take you away from me, I was having none of it. I would fight every step of the way to keep you at my side. It was then that I knew just how much I loved you. I even tried to tell you in my own clumsy way, but it didn't come out right."
Hmm…he sure was going for the long-winded version. She didn't seem to mind, her eyes were locked with his and it appeared that she was taking in every word he uttered.
"Your words were 'But on a selfish note, I'm glad he did. I didn't want to lose you.'"
"You remember?" he asked, astonished.
"Yes, Jonathan. Those words meant a lot to me. They figured into my decision to join you and the Enterprise in the Expanse."
"I was sure they'd washed over you without making any kind of impression."
"No. I meditated on them over many a night. I theorized that you might possess strong emotions for me but your position as captain prevented you from saying anymore."
"I shouldn't have chickened out. I should have stated my feelings there and then."
"Jonathan, but we have now and the whole future ahead of us. Unfortunately, we can't change the past, but we definitely have influence over what the future holds for us."
She was right and he'd got side-tracked. "T'Pol, I'll try and get to the point."
"Take your time, I'm in no rush."
"With regard to the future, I asked you today where we should go from here. You told me what you wanted, but I never answered you what I wanted. For almost 10 years I've had this dream…and I cautioned myself against believing in it, almost certain that it could never come about…that was until yesterday when we embraced in the conference room.
I don't know how I gave that speech…I was riding on cloud nine. I focused on you in the audience, and the words just came out. All I wanted to do after leaving the podium was run away from the crowds to be with you. I loved you and suddenly there was a chance that you might feel the same way. Anyway what I'm doing a crappy job of saying is that I love you, and I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you."
Taking a deep breath and placing his hand in hers he said, "T'Pol, would you make my dreams come true and consent to be my wife?"
"Yes." Less than a second had passed before she replied.
"Yes?" He asked, wanting to make sure he'd heard correctly.
"Yes, Jonathan. My answer is yes. I would consider it an honor to be your wife."
"Thank you," he whispered. Pulling her into his lap he pressed his lips to hers. "I love you, T'Pol. You won't regret your answer."
Jonathan was completely overwhelmed with joy to the point that he felt a lump in his throat. She'd said yes, she wanted to be his wife. For so long that dream had seemed unattainable and he hadn't even allowed himself to consider it feasible. And yet here she was with him, telling him she wanted to marry him.
"I know I won't. Hopefully neither will you. Vulcan marriages are for life."
"That sounds wonderful."
She noted the emotion in his voice. "Are you happy, Jonathan?"
"More than words can say, sweetheart."
"Is that what you were so nervous about on the beach?"
"Er…yeah, kinda. I thought you might refuse me."
"I'm not Margaret Mullin."
"I know. It was clear you wanted a relationship but I didn't know what kind."
"For me, marriage would be the only logical conclusion. I wish you hadn't felt so doubtful about my answer earlier today."
"It's okay. I'm so elated right now, those doubts feel like a distant memory."
She took his hand in hers and pressed her two fingers against his, rubbing them gently against each other. He gave her a slightly confused expression.
"It's how Vulcans display affection. I'd liken this to a human kiss."
He felt a buzzing sensation travel up his arm, it was pleasant making him feel relaxed and at peace. It was as if T'Pol was wrapping him up in a warm blanket — a blanket of love. She didn't need to say it, but at that moment he knew for certain she loved him, and just how much. His doubts earlier had been illogical and without foundation.
"It's incredible. It's so…"
"…sensual?"
"Mmm…very."
"Good…then it's having its desired effect," she said in a scientific matter-of-fact way.
They experimented with the finger touching for several minutes, then T'Pol took his hand and undid the cuff of his shirt. She ran her finger in gentle circles over his wrist.
"Mmm."
Her finger journeyed into his palm; then she brought it to her lips, kissing the center of his hand and then his fingers.
"Your hands are aesthetically pleasing, I've always enjoyed looking at them."
"Really?" He'd had no idea.
"Being Vulcan does not mean we don't appreciate physical beauty."
"I know." He was glad she liked his hands. He wondered if she liked any of his other physical attributes.
She continued, "For example, your eyes — they are a fascinating shade of green. They've often reminded me of an emerald."
"Thanks. My mom had green eyes like mine, I guess that's where I got them from. Speaking of eyes, yours are beautiful, T'Pol. I could lose myself in them. And I love your dark thick hair, your luscious lips and your pointed ears drive me wild."
"Hmm…Ambassador Soval was convinced you were jealous of them," she quipped.
"No, not jealous, just an admirer." Continuing with his compliments, he said, "Your face is perfect, a masterpiece of beauty. I love your olive neck, and you have exquisitely feminine hands." He placed his hand against hers to compare the sizes. His were much larger.
"You're the most handsome man I know," she returned. "You have a very pleasing physique. I always enjoyed our decon sessions together."
"You did? Oh boy! Well, since we're confessing, so did I, especially the ones where it was just the two of us."
"Agreed."
He took her in his arms and held her close to him. "We'll make up for all the lost time."
"Yes," she mused. "Jonathan, do we have any champagne left?"
"Sure, I think there's another 2 bottles in the fridge. Want me to go open one?"
"It would be appropriate since we've agreed to get married."
"You're absolutely right," he said, getting up off the couch. "I got so caught up in your answer, and then your compliments, I forgot. We'll get a ring tomorrow as well."
"A ring?"
"You don't mind do you, I mean if we follow Earth tradition? Unless you have an objection to wearing a ring?"
"I would like to wear your engagement ring. Can we have a Vulcan wedding?"
"Absolutely. Anything you want, sweetheart. Though we might still need to have a Earth civil ceremony — you know, just paperwork and stuff." He opened the fridge door and took out a bottle of Dom Perginon. He took out two glasses from his top cabinet and returned to her side.
He popped the cork and there was a mild spray of foam. He then filled the glasses and proposed a toast.
"To the future Mrs Archer."
They clinked their glasses together and drank up.
A sense of deep contentment and happiness prevailed in the Archer household that night. There were still details to be ironed out — careers to be discussed, but Jonathan was going to live in the moment and bask in the pure unadulterated joy she brought him. She'd agreed to marry him; nothing could be better than that. Whatever the future held, he now was assured that he wouldn't be spending it alone, but with the woman of his dreams at his side.
T'Pol noted it was after 11pm and she should be making her way back to her apartment. She got up off the couch, mentioning that she was leaving.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her down to him. "Stay," he whispered.
"It wouldn't be an inconvenience?"
"What kind of question is that, sweetheart? I asked you to marry me, didn't I? Please…stay with me, T'Pol."
"I didn't want to invite myself."
"You're not. But I need you…I want you. I'd rather not spend the night alone."
Neither did she. She'd hoped he would ask her to stay. "You won't be alone anymore, Jonathan, not if I have anything to do with it."
"I like the sound of that."
They stayed a little longer in the living room talking and enjoying each other's company. Jonathan put on some background music, and dimmed the lights, creating a pleasant ambience. As Chopin played, they lay wrapped in each other's arms on the couch.
As the clock chimed in midnight, they retired to his bedroom, their hands intertwined.
"Tired?" she asked.
"Not really. Just relaxed. You?"
"The same."
"I was wondering…"
"Yes, T'Pol?"
"Well if we both aren't tired…"
Jonathan smiled…he liked her line of thinking, but wanted to tease her a bit. "We could read a while I guess," he suggested, putting on a rather serious face.
"Yes. I could meditate I suppose."
He noted the sound of disappointment in her voice and in her facial expression. "You can have the bathroom first," he offered.
She thanked him. From his tone earlier when he'd asked her to stay she'd thought he'd wanted to make love. She found it difficult to fathom that she, a Vulcan, was disappointed that he wanted to read a book. Last night had left an indelible mark on her. She yearned to sample those emotions and feelings again. Was it unVulcan to feel this way?
She didn't want to compare, but after her experimentation with Commander Tucker, she hadn't felt the need or urge to experiment again. She was not proud of her actions, and if she could have turned back the clock, she'd have gladly undone them. She was thankful that at least she'd resolved her issues with Trip and that they'd become close friends.
Jonathan undressed, slipping on his pyjama bottoms and got into bed. He picked up the book at his bedside table, opened it and started to read, feigning interest in it.
She walked over to his bedside and asked if he'd assist her in unbuttoning her dress.
"Sure thing, can you move over to the side a bit so the light shines on those hooks." He fiddled with them for a few moments, then released them and unzipped the dress, revealing her bare back. Not one to let temptation pass him by, he pressed his lips to the top of her spine, and journeyed down placing featherlite kisses down her back.
"I thought you were going to read your book," she commented, trying to make it sound as if his touch was having zero effect on her.
"I was, but you asked me to help you."
"Your assistance is appreciated," she added, getting up off the bed. She slipped off the dress and wrapped her robe around her that she'd taken out of her luggage bag. She then proceeded into the bathroom.
Jonathan chuckled to himself. She could pretend his touch didn't get her all worked up, he knew better.
Ten minutes later she reappeared wearing her wine colored PJs. "That color suits you," he noted, though he liked her blue set as well.
She climbed into bed beside him.
"You not going to meditate?" he asked, enjoying his little plan.
"Oh, yes I was. Do you have any candles in the apartment?"
"I think I can dig some up if you can wait a few minutes."
"No, I don't wish to trouble you. You're obviously very engrossed in your book."
"Trouble? For you? Nah! I'll be right back."
She touched his arm. "Don't go."
"Okay, I won't." His eyes wandered over her form. He didn't know how he was resisting the urge to take her in his arms. She looked so lovely, there was a vulnerability about her that he found irresistible.
"I want you," she whispered under her breath, her head held low, not able to meet his eyes. She didn't want to play games and she was aching for his touch.
He raised her head with his finger so their eyes met. "I want you too, sweetheart."
"But you said—"
"That I wanted to read? I was just playing. Why would I want to read when I have the woman I love, my wife-to-be, here with me?" He leaned over and kissed her tenderly.
"Jonathan, I've never felt this way before. I don't even understand my own feelings."
"It's called desire, sweetheart." He loved the idea that he was the only man to provoke such feelings in her. He kissed her again, this time with more passion.
"I love you, T'Pol."
Words were lost as she succumbed to his passions and felt her blood burn with fire for him. His touch was her undoing. She had no idea if other Vulcan women experienced something similar with their mates, but if they didn't then she pitied them. Every caress and touch was Jonathan's way of telling her how much he loved her. She basked in that emotion — becoming drunk on it.
There was no other man for her…there never had been, and there never would be. He was her soul mate, her other half who completed her in such a way she couldn't even describe it.
Feeling completely satisfied, she lay by his side, idly running her fingers through his chest hair. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his voice as he spoke to her: his tone soothing and pleasant. He ran his fingers up and down her arm gently.
She was beginning to feel sleepy. She felt his lips touch her forehead and then move down to her mouth.
"Goodnight, T'Pol."
She opened her eyes for a moment. "Goodnight, Jonathan."
As she finally fell asleep her last thought was that she could hardly wait for her wedding day and the start of her life with this incredible man.
TBC