Christmas at Lake Tahoe

Chapter 3

Jonathan carried her into his bedroom and placed her gently on his bed. She pulled him down for a kiss, running her fingers through his hair. He felt drunk; her kisses were more intoxicating than strong spirits. It was like being swept up in a powerful wave, but you had no wish to fight it — instead you capitulated. However a small voice in the back of his head began to grow stronger and stronger, to the point that it could no longer be ignored.

He broke off the kiss and pulled away from her. His breathing was erratic and shallow. As he tried to compose this thoughts one question ran through his mind. What the hell was he doing?

She lay there, looking up at him with an expression of confusion etched on her face. He needed to explain, but first he needed to catch his breath.

His desire and need for her had completely overpowered his logic and sense. She had no idea what kind of hold she had on him. The feel of her lips on his as she'd returned his kiss in the living room had been utterly bewitching. Every coherent thought in his head had vanished in a puff of smoke. The wonderful sensation of her luscious lips on his, passionate and demanding had been exhilarating.

"Jonathan?"

"This isn't right," he began. "I wasn't thinking…we weren't…" He began to pace back and forth as he ran his fingers through his hair.

She stood up from the bed, approached him and placed her hand on his arm. "Can you stop for a minute?"

"Sorry…I pace when I need to think."

"Yes…I've noticed." She turned him to face her, and gripped his shoulders — similar to the way he normally did to her. "What's wrong?"

"We weren't thinking…I mean I wasn't. I acted on impulse. I'm sorry."

"I'm not. Don't you think we've danced around this for too many years?"

What did she mean too many years? "I can't do this, T'Pol."

"Well some part of you wanted to, otherwise you wouldn't have initiated it."

"I'm human. I'm allowed a moment of weakness. Now you've seen it and I stopped it before it went too far. It's late; we should go to bed."

"I thought that was the plan a few moments ago," she answered with a note of sarcasm.

"I wouldn't peg you for innuendoes, T'Pol. Maybe you've spent too much time with humans." Or Trip, he added in his thoughts.

"You are correct. I have spent a lot of time with humans. However, despite that at this moment I am confused by your actions."

"As am I by yours." He'd never have thought she'd return his kiss, or be that passionate.

"How so?"

He moved away from her and sat down on the edge of the bed. He sighed heavily. This was awkward. "Are you attracted to me, T'Pol?"

"What do you think?"

"Honestly? I don't know."

"That is an odd response. Is that your normal reaction when a woman returns your display of affection — you wonder if she finds you attractive?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then?" She sat by him on the bed.

"It is late, we should call it a night."

"That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say, T'Pol?"

"You could at least attempt an explanation."

"I already did."

"Saying you acted on impulse doesn't suffice."

"I have nothing further to add. If you don't mind, I'd rather be alone."

"I see. Fair enough, if that is what you wish."

She raised herself off the bed and walked towards the doorway. Turning around she bid him goodnight and shut the door behind her.

Jonathan stared at the now closed door. His breathing had returned to normal, but he felt confused and agitated. What a dumb thing to do! What had possessed him to kiss her? She was his friend and first officer…he didn't want to jeopardize that...had he?

Now his secret was out…the one he'd kept hidden for over four years. Now she knew. He didn't want to think about this now. Better to get some sleep…and deal with it in the morning. Maybe he'd be clear headed then.

He undressed, walked into the bathroom and turned the shower dial to cold.

T'Pol sat on the bed in her room and ran through the scene in her head. When Jonathan had kissed her at the window it had been…the only word that came to mind was perfect.

For several years she'd juggled with a theory. There had been times…especially before the Expanse when she'd been convinced that the captain was attracted to her. The idea had not repelled or revolted her. Far from it, she'd found the notion…pleasing. Despite his arrogance and rudeness to her on the day of their first meeting, she'd not been blind to the fact that he was a handsome man.

But neither one of them had acted on their attraction…or even voiced it. So it had always been an unconfirmed theory. Tonight, for the first time she'd been presented with solid evidence…that was most agreeable.

His kisses had stirred her, evoking emotions she normally worked hard at suppressing. The mere recollection produced a fire in her belly. His hands had cupped her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. She'd gazed into those fiery green eyes of his, feeling hypnotized.

She'd returned his kiss, wanting him to know his feelings were returned. His arms had snaked around her back, bringing her closer to him. They'd broken apart, both a little breathless. Then without warning he'd picked her up in his arms and carried her into his bedroom.

It had been a sudden move…but not an unwelcome one. So when he'd backed off and started his tirade of explanations, she'd been confused. That state of mind hadn't changed.

It was 11:30pm she noted, glancing at the clock. She didn't feel tired. She decided to try and meditate — perhaps that would calm her. Then she remembered she didn't have any candles with her. There was a pair of candles on the mantelpiece, above the fireplace. They were probably decorative. Maybe there were others in the kitchen. She left the bedroom to go investigate.

She walked into the kitchen. She could ask him if he had any candles, she'd noticed the light in his bedroom was still on as she'd passed his room. But she felt uncomfortable…and had decided against bothering him.

She searched through several draws and cupboards but no candles. She could meditate without a candle. It was just that if one had been available she'd have liked to use it.

Her search over she turned to go back to her room. She almost walked into Jonathan, who was leaning against the kitchen counter in a bathrobe. She hadn't heard him come in.

"What's with the treasure hunt?"

She felt like she'd been caught red handed. "I was looking for a candle."

"For meditation?"

"Yes."

"You can take one off the fireplace. Let me get you some matches." He moved towards one of the draws, opened it and handed her a lighter. "No matches, but this is safer."

"They aren't ornamental?"

"Huh?"

"The candles on the fireplace?"

"I'm hardly ever here. I wouldn't notice — help yourself. The leasing agent furnished this place, including all the little knickknacks."

"Thank you." She went to the fireplace and removed one of the long green candlesticks from its holder. "Goodnight, Jonathan."

She heard him pour himself a glass of water. He didn't answer so she assumed he hadn't heard her. Returning to the kitchen, she repeated the words.

This time he answered. "Goodnight, T'Pol."

The green robe he was wearing was becoming. She imagined untying the knot at his waist and slipping it off his broad shoulders.

"Was there something else?" he asked. She stood in the kitchen with the candlestick in her hand, staring at him.

"No…nothing else. Goodnight." She turned on her heel and returned to the guestroom.

Jonathan stared at his bedside clock. Why was it when you wanted time to go fast that it crawled? Then when you wanted to enjoy a moment it sped by at the speed of light? It was 3am and he hadn't got a wink of sleep.

He yawned and sat up in bed. He turned on his bedside light and wondered how to while away the night. His libido informed him there was a beautiful woman just across the hall that could probably offer a couple suggestions.

He dismissed that thought. He was not going to have a one-night stand with his first officer. That's all it would be, right? She was probably still in love with Trip. She hadn't explained why the two of them were no longer in a relationship…maybe it was a temporary bust-up. The last thing he wanted was to get in the middle of things.

He could read more of Malcolm's book…but the idea wasn't appealing. Then he remembered T'Pol's gift. It was on the kitchen counter top. He climbed out of bed and walked into the kitchen to retrieve it.

He decided to stoke up the fire — he'd read his favourite poem in the living room. Sitting cross-legged by the fire, he reread The Tale of the Wandering Angus for probably the 1000th time. As his eyes scanned the words, the image of his mother reading to him while he sat patiently on her lap came to mind.

"You can not sleep either?" T'Pol's voice interrupted him.

His eyes looked upward, meeting hers. She was dressed in light blue pyjamas, open at her navel. Didn't she have a robe she could wear? Then he remembered he was half-naked, dressed only in PJ bottoms.

"No."

She crossed her legs and joined him by the fire, without invitation. "Are you reading page 57?"

"Yeah."

"Perhaps you could read it aloud."

His face contorted into a slight frown. He wished she'd return to her room. Her attire was…distracting to say the least. He buried his face in the book and started to read the poem from the beginning.

"Thank you," she said after he finished.

He didn't answer but she heard him turn a few pages and assumed he was reading something else. The room was quiet except for the crackle of the fire. "Jonathan," she said taking the book out his hand. "I don't know what you are afraid of but I'm not like the girl in your favourite poem. I have no intentions of running away or disappearing."

He stared into the fire, to avoid her gaze. His pulse had increased. He should get up and walk away, but he felt rooted to the spot. She stood up and walked behind him. He wondered why. Then he felt her hands begin to massage his knotted shoulders.

"T'Pol, I don't—"

"Relax," she whispered. "You're so tense."

Her touch was exquisite. "Please…stop," he pleaded.

She removed her hands. "I don't understand." She sat back down by the fire, facing him.

"I made it clear earlier. This isn't something we can pursue."

"I was massaging your shoulders."

"T'Pol, don't act so naïve. I believe you wanted to do a lot more than that."

"Since neither one of us can sleep, perhaps you can enlighten me as to why you are acting this way."

"I'm a little tired of repeating myself."

"That's the only reason — this isn't something you can pursue?"

"Yes."

"Well that is neither a reason nor an explanation." She reached out and caressed his face. "I care about you, Jonathan. I always have. You're a special person…someone I admire and deeply respect. I came up here to spend some time with my friend…not hoping for anything more. You surprised me this evening when you kissed me…I thought those feelings had died a long time ago. I was pleased to discover they hadn't…but now I'm confused."

"T'Pol, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to confuse you. But this isn't me…I mean I don't have casual relationships." What he meant was that he didn't want a casual relationship with her. He hadn't been in love with Erika; it had meant nothing. And his brief liaison with Navaar had been pheromone induced.

"Neither do I," T'Pol answered. If that was the only obstacle to them being together she wished he'd spoken his mind earlier. Moving closer to him, she pressed her lips against his.

"T'Pol—"

She placed her index finger on his lips. "I think we've talked enough." She stood up and held her hand out to him. He took it and straightened up, following her into his bedroom.

Instructing him to sit on the bed she positioned herself behind him and continued with the shoulder massage she'd started earlier. As she kneaded the tension out of his muscles he closed his eyes and attempted to relax. She began to kiss down his neck, then along his shoulder.

"I want you, Jonathan."

She kissed down his spine. "I've always wanted you."

He turned to face her, uncertainty written on his face.

"I don't want a casual relationship, Jonathan."

He took her in his arms, kissing her with urgency. As he lowered her to the bed, he whispered, "I love you, T'Pol."

T'Pol woke up alone. She called out to Jonathan but there was no answer. Where was he? She hoped he wasn't afraid to face her, or worse regretted their intimacy last night. She climbed out of bed and slipped on her PJs that Jonathan had placed on an armchair last night.

She walked down the hall into the living room, calling his name, but still no reply. Porthos was nowhere to be seen either — perhaps they'd gone for a walk. The clock in the kitchen said it was 10:15am — she'd really slept late and deeply. Jonathan's leaving obviously hadn't woken her.

She was about to boil the kettle for some mint tea when she noticed a hand-written note stuck to it. It was from Jonathan — he said he'd gone to the store to get a few things and taken Porthos for a walk. It didn't specify a time for his return, just said see you later.

She removed the note from the kettle and filled it with water to boil. She was beginning to experience doubts. She was concerned Jonathan would say it had been a mistake and they'd been reckless. Maybe she was overreacting. Best to wait until he returned and gauge the situation then.

She popped a tea bag into a mug and filled it with boiling water. Just as she was about to search for something edible she heard the front door open — he was back!
She felt her stomach tighten.

Porthos ran down the hall and deposited himself by the fire. A few moments later she heard Jonathan's footsteps approaching. He entered the kitchen laden with three large brown paper bags full of groceries.

"Hi," he greeted her sheepishly.

"Hello," she answered.

"You okay?" She seemed tense.

"I didn't expect to wake up alone." It sounded like a reproach but she hadn't meant it that way. It was as if someone else was speaking for her.

"I didn't want to wake you, I assumed you were tired." He placed the heavy paper bags on the counter top and began to unpack the items, putting them away. "You must be hungry — what would you like for breakfast?"

"Plomeek broth."

"Well if the supermarket stocked it, I would have bought it."

"It doesn't matter, I'm not hungry," she lied. She felt nervous and was acting out of character. She knew Jonathan didn't have any Plomeek broth and yet the words had simply slipped out.

She took her mint tea and went into the living room to sit down. Jonathan left the groceries for the time being and joined her on the sofa. He took her hand in his. "What's wrong, T'Pol?"

"I don't know."

"Look, I'm not telepathic, but I sense you're angry with me. I'm sorry if I wasn't here when you woke up."

"It's not that."

"Then?"

"I don't know. I apologize if I sounded irritable — I don't feel like myself this morning."

"It's okay," he smiled. "Listen, shall I get your robe? You must be freezing in those flimsy PJs."

"I'm fine. It's warm in here," she replied. "How are you?" she inquired, in a gentler tone.

"Okay."

"That's good."

The conversation stalled after that. T'Pol guessed they both felt awkward. This was something she hadn't anticipated. Last night, after finally convincing him that she didn't want a casual relationship, they'd been at ease with each other. Kissing him, being in his arms, making love with him — it had felt so natural and right. So what was the problem now?

Jonathan released her hand, announced that he was going to make some breakfast and returned to the kitchen. He asked again if there was anything she wanted, and presented her with a list of options. He'd bought an assortment of fruit that she was welcome to or he could make some porridge. Failing that, she could always have some dry toast.

She decided on the dry toast and he popped two slices of bread into the toaster. She finished her mint tea and washed her mug up in the sink — neither one of them spoke. He placed her toast on a plate and passed it to her.

"I could spread a little butter on it if you like."

"No thank you," she answered.

She ate her toast in silence, while Jonathan scrambled some eggs. She excused herself, informing him that she was going to get dressed. He nodded in acknowledgement.

She showered and got dressed. If the atmosphere between the two of them was going to continue like this, she was not looking forward to the rest of the day. She'd never planned it to work out this way. Well none of this had been planned. All of this: coming here, kissing him and then spending the night were all performed on impulse without pre-meditated thought.

She sat on the edge of the bed; the one she hadn't slept in, in the guestroom and stared out at the window. She was new at all of this and had no idea how to proceed. Being direct was probably the best course of action.

There was a knock on the door and she heard Jonathan's voice asking if he could enter. She replied yes.

"I heard the water running for over thirty minutes, wanted to make sure you hadn't drowned in the shower." It was an attempt at levity.

"If you're worried about the water bill I'll pay my share."

"T'Pol, what's got into you?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." But that wasn't true. Her nervous feeling had now progressed to agitation. This was probably because she hadn't been able to meditate last night. "Did you finish your breakfast?" she asked.

"Yeah." He stood with his back to the window, facing her.

"Are you nervous?" she asked. She noticed he was wringing his hands.

"Truthfully, yeah. You?"

"A little yes. I didn't expect to feel like this."He stepped across the room and sat beside her. "So where do we go from here, T'Pol?"

"I do not know." She was no expert at relationships. Her on/off again relationship, if one could even call it that, with Commander Tucker had been a series of confusions, misunderstandings and mistakes. And her marriage to Koss…well that had been nothing more than a sham to protect her mother.

"You said you loved me last night." She stated, wondering if he'd reconfirm it.

He glanced down at his feet and noticed a few balls of fluff on the carpet. It was much easier to make such statements in the heat of passion. "Yes," he whispered, still studying the carpet.

"How long have you felt that way?"

"How long? Hmm…feels like forever." There was no point in hiding the truth; she already knew how he felt. What difference would the longevity of his feelings make?

"Before the Expanse?"

"Yes."

"During our time in the Expanse?"

"Yes."

"I thought you'd stopped caring. You seemed so distant. We'd be standing in the Ready Room talking about something and yet I felt like you were light years away. The camaraderie we'd once shared had disappeared. I didn't know how to regain it."

"I never stopped loving you, T'Pol."

"Why did you not say anything?" If he had, things would have turned out so differently. She wouldn't have got involved with Tucker for starters.

"It was a time of war. There was no room in my life for personal relationships. I had to be focused on one thing, and one thing alone. I'm sorry if you felt I was distant."

"If the Xindi attack hadn't happened, would you have told me?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Probably not."

"Oh."

"It's not something that is easy to say."

"But last night—"

"Last night was different."

That was true. And he hadn't merely said it once, but many times over, almost like a mantra. He'd said a lot last night — he'd told her how beautiful she was, how desirable, how he couldn't imagine his life without her. The words had come spilling forth out of his mouth, as if a dam had burst. He'd bared his soul to her — let her see him at his most vulnerable. After being with him there hadn't been a doubt in her mind as to how much he loved and cared for her. But that guaranteed nothing.

He'd loved her this way for several years and not declared his feelings. Allowed her to develop a relationship with Trip without speaking his peace. And would have said nothing if last night hadn't happened.

"How long can you stay, T'Pol?" he asked, out of the blue.

"Until we are officially back on duty aboard Enterprise — that is, if I'm welcome to stay."

"I thought you'd know how welcome you are."

"You're a polite person, Jonathan. I may be imposing, but I doubt you'd own up to it."

"Oh, T'Pol, for God's sake!" He got up off the bed in a huff. "How can you even say that? Don't you know me at all?"

"I admit sometimes you're a riddle." Last night was a perfect example.

"I bare my soul to you, tell you how I feel, and you still doubt my intentions?"

"What are your intentions? Maybe you could spell them out to me." She felt her agitation growing.

"Okay here ya go; I suggest you get yourself a paper and pen or a PADD. You can write it all down so next time you won't tell me how much of a riddle I am!"

"There's no need to raise your voice."

"T'Pol," he started taking a breath. "I asked how long you could stay because I want you to stay. You're not imposing, and I'm not being polite. Okay?"

She nodded.

"As for my intentions — well I don't go around telling just anyone how I feel about them. You've known me for almost five years; you know how closed off I can be, how private I am. The fact that I told you I loved you is a huge deal…but it's obvious it made no impact whatsoever."

"You're mistaken," she answered, in a calm voice.

"Whatever." He left the room without another word. She followed him into the hall and found him putting on his winter coat.

"Where are you going?"

"For a drive."

"I'll come with you," she suggested.

"No…I want to be alone." His voice was stern, so she didn't counter-argue.

He shut the door behind him and she retired to the living room, feeling confused and lost. How had it all gone wrong?

He started the engine and backed out of the garage. He took Highway 50 north, then Highway 28 in the direction of Incline Village. He had no idea why he'd lost his temper with T'Pol. It was unlike him. Maybe it was from lack of sleep. He'd only slept around four hours, getting up just after 8am.

It was bright and sunny so he opened the glove compartment and retrieved his sunglasses. To the left of him was the lake, in all its glory, but his mind was too distracted to enjoy nature.

Last night he'd held a sleeping T'Pol in his arms and willed himself to stay awake for just a bit longer. He didn't know if he'd ever have the opportunity again to lie next to her and wanted to burn this into his memory. He'd experienced overwhelming joy but also trepidation. Having confessed his feelings, he had to acknowledge that attraction and desire might be all she felt for him.

She'd said she didn't want a casual relationship…but what did she want? He'd hoped they'd discuss it when he returned from the grocery store, but the atmosphere had been so tense. She'd been acting weird…almost angry. He didn't understand why. Her comment about him just being polite had enraged him…after all he'd said last night it seemed incomprehensible that she would think that.

Before the situation had got heated he should have done something to break the ice…like kiss her or hold her. But his fear had got the better of him. Maybe she regretted what they'd done and wanted them to revert back to the status of just friends.

This could prove to be problematic. How would they work together on Enterprise? Trip somehow coped, he guessed he'd have to learn as well.

Twenty-five minutes later he'd traversed the length of the lake and had arrived at Incline Village. This was a small ski resort with one large hotel and casino. He pulled into the hotel car park and stepped out of the car. Entering the lobby it reminded him of the Tahoe Lodge where he'd had dinner with Sarah.

He explored a little, even poking his head into the casino for a couple minutes. He tried his hand at a quick game of black jack, but after losing 10 credits gave up. Poker was more his game, but he wasn't in the mood. He made his way to the café and ordered a latte and slice of lemon pound cake. He sat at a table alone drinking his coffee feeling like an idiotic fool. She'd wanted to come with him, why hadn't he agreed?

He sighed heavily and took a large bite out of his cake. His communicator beeped. Taking it out of his pocket, he answered. It was T'Pol. She asked him where he was, and when he was thinking of returning.

"I should be back in about 45 minutes. As soon as I finish my coffee I'll head out."

"Jonathan, we have a communication problem. However, I do not believe it's unsalvageable. I think we both felt uncomfortable this morning — like we were walking on eggshells as you humans say."

"Yeah, I won't disagree with you there."

"If I said anything that hurt you, I apologize."

"No, T'Pol, I'm the one who owes you an apology. I think I'm tired — I didn't get much sleep last night."

"I know."

"But that's still not an excuse. I don't know why I blew up."

"I think we are both in unfamiliar territory."

"I agree," he said.

"You'll be back in 45 minutes then?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you then."

They said their goodbyes and the call ended. Jonathan felt a little better after that exchange. She was right, they were in unfamiliar territory — but if they were both willing to try they could make this relationship work. That was if she wanted to. He knew he did.

He drove back the way he came. He was more alert; the coffee was obviously working. However, he continued to feel a little nervous at the prospect of facing T'Pol. Best to just speak his mind and go from there.

Or maybe he'd take her somewhere — show her around. They were in one of the most beautiful places in California, no sense sitting in the house all day. A trip on the Tahoe Queen to Emerald Bay might be a good idea. It wasn't the original paddlewheeler built in 1983, but a replica that had been made around 50 years ago.

He pulled into his drive and jumped out of the car, jogging up the steps to the front door. He was about to insert his keycard when the door opened and T'Pol stood on the other side.

"It's been an hour since we talked."

"Yeah, I got stuck behind a really slow vehicle. You weren't worried were you?" he asked as he walked in, talking off his coat.

She closed the door behind him. "Not yet," she answered.

"Listen," he said as he closed in on her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't blame you if you packed up your bags and left. I'm sorry about earlier."

"Jonathan, I already accepted your apology."

"Yeah, well I'm giving it again in person."

"And it's accepted."

He lowered his head to capture her lips. They were moist and cool, and tempting beyond belief. He deepened the kiss, pinning her up against the wall. "I should have just done that this morning, maybe all this nonsense could have been avoided," he mused.

"Maybe," she answered, a little breathless.

"I was thinking…if you want we could go on a boat cruise this afternoon. The Tahoe Queen departs just a few blocks from here. The cruise is around 2 hours long and takes you to Emerald Bay and back."

"Have you been before?"

"Yeah a few times, it's fun." He kissed her again, then moved down and nuzzled her neck.

"Jonathan…"

"You don't like that?"

"Yes I do, but—"

"But what?"

"Instead of getting distracted we should find out what time the next cruise leaves and plan the day. It is afternoon already."

She had a point. He took her hand and led her into the living room. He tapped in a few keys on the computer and brought up information about the Tahoe Queen cruises.

"Oh we're in luck. They resumed service today. They were closed for the holidays yesterday." He studied the information on screen. "Think we can make the 2pm cruise?"

"Yes, I see no problem in that," T'Pol replied.

"Okay, I'll make the reservations then."

TBC