"Sono" Part Eight

Disclaimers in part one.

Commander Trip Tucker walked into the messhall to find it bustling with activity. It was Saturday night, which meant that a long practiced tradition was about to take place. A number of crewmen were gathering chairs and placing them in an organized cluster at the opposite end of the room from where the re-sequencers were located. They had left a few lone tables with their accompanying chairs at that end. Trip waved at one of the ones occupied.

Travis waved back and said, "Hi, Commander. Did you bring your harmonica?"

Trip shook his head. "Nah, not this time. I thought I'd just come and listen." He nodded at the other person seated at the table. "What's with Hoshi?" he asked.

She had her cheek resting on the smooth surface of the table, a pose Trip thought looked uncomfortable, considering she had her hands underneath the table. She had her eyes closed.

Travis opened his mouth to answer, but was beat to it by Hoshi, who mumbled, "Trying to take a nap."

Trip grinned. "I think you picked the wrong spot for it."

Her eyes stayed closed, but a flash of irritation wrinkled her face. "I'm on shift in a few minutes," she said, her voice sounding muffled against the table.

"You're pulling a double shift?"

She sighed and raised her head, opening her eyes. She blinked bleary eyes at him for a few seconds, then said, "Have to. The duty roster got screwed up and Crewman Kanakis is sick and though I tried to get someone else in my place, it just didn't work out."

Trip grimaced in sympathy. "You know," he said, "It's about to get really loud in here in a few minutes."

She nodded. "I know. I'll be gone before then. I wouldn't mind the shift, I just haven't been sleeping much lately. I thought I'd stay here until I have to go and hope the noise keeps me awake until then."

She closed her eyes and laid her head back down on the table, this time away from him and toward Travis.

Travis said, "Novakovich is singing 'Loving You Has Made Me Bananas' tonight."

"That man sure loves his novelty songs."

"Yeah. Crewman Cutler pestered him into it."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, but he has a condition. She has to sing 'Fever'."

Hoshi's sleepy voice warned, "Guys."

Both men said, "Sorry, Hoshi."

A loud clang of someone dropping a chair across the room startled Trip and Travis, but when Hoshi didn't even raise her head to see what had happened, Travis and Trip shared an amused look. The loud, embarrassed, "Sorry!" from the crewman who'd dropped the chair caused them to chuckle.

Travis said, "Why don't you sit down, Commander?"

Trip shook his head. "I'm waiting for T'Pol."

Travis said, "She just came in."

Trip swung around to look at the mess-hall doors. T'Pol nodded at him and he nodded back. He pointed at a nearby table and she nodded again, but instead of heading toward it, she moved to the re-sequencer.

Travis said, "Later, Commander," not expecting a reply.

Trip waved an absent hand back at Travis, already heading to join the Sub-Commander. He stopped beside her and she spared him a brief glance. She ordered chamomile tea, and once it poured into her mug, she took it out from the small alcove and turned to him, saying, "Commander. How was your day?"

"Great, nothing out of the ordinary. You didn't bring your instrument?"

"No. I didn't wish to take time from the others."

"It's a free-for-all, T'Pol. I'm sure there are plenty of people who'd love to hear you play."

"I notice you do not have your harmonica."

He tipped his head to the side and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I thought I'd just listen tonight."

"You look as if you have heard something amusing."

Trip's grin grew a bit wider at the subtle emphasis she placed on the word 'heard'. And people said Vulcans had no sense of humor. Or maybe it was just this one. He shook his head, reminding himself that T'Pol was T'Pol.

He pulled out the chair from the table and she sat down. He pulled out his own chair and scooted it closer to hers.

"Crewman Cutler is going to sing 'Fever'."

"I see," was all she said. She took a sip from her tea, then added, "I came to listen to Ensign Sharper play the drums."

"And here I thought it was because I asked you to join me." He waited for it, silently counting--one, two, three--and she raised an eyebrow. As ever, he found the predictability of her reaction amusing.

The eyebrow lowered and she said, "If that is how you choose to interpret it, I am not at fault for any misconceptions that might arise."

He shook his head, letting out the smile he'd been holding back. "Just pulling your leg, T'Pol. Funny how I can still do that."

She took another sip. "Indeed," she said, looking over the rim of the cup at him.

Trip sat back and considered the fact that she now graced him with tiny facial expressions. He smiled at the little tip-up of her lips.

"I didn't know you liked big band," he said.

"It's the rhythms that fascinate me."

"Well, nobody can play the drums like Davy, so I'd say you'll enjoy it."

They got caught up in watching the activity across the room, as crew began settling down in the chairs.

T'Pol glanced over at Travis and Hoshi's table. An infinitesimal crease appeared between T'Pol's eyebrows that lasted a split second. She asked, "Is something wrong with Ensign Sato?"

"I think she's catching a few z's."

"This is not a conducive place for rest."

"That's what I told her."

"Perhaps Ensign Mayweather should assist her to bed. It is not wise for her to go without sleep for as long as she has."

Trip raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "Travis, 'assist her to bed'? I think Malcolm might object to that."

T'Pol shot him an intolerant look that Trip could remember his sister wearing every time he said something she usually called 'stupid'. Feeling a little put upon, he responded, "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you haven't seen it."

Her voice was blander than usual, which told him she was deliberately avoiding answering him. "Seen what, Commander?"

Somewhere inside, a voice was telling him, 'Don't fall for it, don't you dare fall for it'.

"You're gonna make me tell you, aren't you?"

"I didn't bring up the subject."

"Yeah, well, I'm dropping it."

There was a pause while he looked down.

T'Pol's voice was gentle. "Starfleet policy forbids fraternization between senior and junior officers in the same line of command. I take it you believe Commander Reed and Ensign Sato have broken that commandment."

"That wasn't what I was implying. You're twisting this into something I didn't mean."

"Am I, Trip?"

He glared at her for a moment, but her calm gaze made it difficult for him to keep it. He sighed and let the anger slip away.

In some ways, the friendship they had was...dangerous was a good word, he supposed. Her placid manner often prompted him to say things he shouldn't and when she asked him questions they were always so pointed as to be intrusive. It was difficult to keep secrets from her--and this one was no secret. He glanced over at the table where Hoshi and Travis were sitting. He said, "He does love her very much."

"I thought you were dropping the subject."

"I am...I was." He sighed. "I guess this is why speculation is such a double-edged sword."

Hoshi had lifted her head from the table and was rubbing her eyes. She said something to Travis and then placed her palms flat against the table, pushing herself up and out of her seat. She started walking to the door, and Trip's eyes followed her. She moved like someone walking through water, he noted. She saw him looking at her as she passed and she smiled.

He returned a tight smile of his own, feeling it stretch across his face and he looked away before it could become false, back to T'Pol and then wished he hadn't. Her steady gaze was full of understanding and he looked down at the table just to escape it.

Travis' sharp cry of, "Hoshi!" caused Trip to jerk his head up again, across to where he'd seen her last, only to see her crumpled on the floor.