Redemption

Chapter 5

T'Pol's night had been anything but restful. She'd lain awake for several hours in her room, gazing up at the ceiling trying to figure things out in her head. She didn't like the way things had been left between her and the captain, and bumping into him last night at the restaurant had not aided the matter.

She was perplexed as to why it had been so difficult for her to say what she wanted. She'd never had difficulties in getting to the point with Archer before, why now? The night she'd found him in the conference room she'd been prepared to confess her feelings, but his reaction had been unexpected. Was that the reason then? That every time she tried to tell him something he made himself unapproachable and distant. In addition, since returning to Earth he seemed so short-tempered and irritable.

However, despite all these rationalisations, she was not proud of her cowardice. She'd come to his apartment to tell him something and at the first sign of his irritability she'd skulked away out of sight. Her behaviour was definitely unVulcan.

As the events of the last two days ran through her mind, none of it made any sense. When he'd been drunk, and they'd been kissing in his bedroom he'd begged her not to leave. And he'd told her he loved her. So what did that mean?

And what of his accusations that she was experimenting on him and Commander Tucker? Was that his opinion of her?

She didn't need to have a psychology degree to know that he was suffering. Serving with him for the last three years she'd learned to pick up on his moods with ease. It might not be evident to strangers, his performance during the "Good to be home" speech in front of thousands only a few days ago had been exemplary. But it was only a veneer. Underneath he was in pain.

She'd tried to reach out to him numerous times — after the incident with the Osaarian she'd attempted to reason with him and get him to open up: he'd refused. She'd even suggested he see Phlox for a check up. He'd agreed and the doctor had given him a clean bill of health. Afterwards, he'd called her into his Ready Room, handed the medical report to her stating that he was both sound in body and mind, and her concern was unfounded.

When she'd discovered he'd given the order to Phlox to create a clone of Trip, she'd felt personally hurt that he'd never consulted with her on the decision. It was something she'd become accustomed to — before the Expanse he'd rarely made any shipboard decisions without her input.

All these decisions took a heavy toll on him. Perhaps that was why he hadn't involved her in them — he didn't want her to be party to the guilt.

She wondered if he had any idea that she'd resigned from the High Command and accompanied Enterprise into the Expanse primarily because of him. Did he think it was just some kind of deep-seated Vulcan loyalty? If he did, then he had no idea just how deep her feelings for him went.

She could have told him that day in the Ready Room when she'd requested not to be returned to Vulcan. But then she ran the risk of him returning her to Vulcan anyway. So she thought she'd tell him after they entered the Expanse.

Days had turned to weeks and weeks into months and still she hadn't spoken. By that time so much had changed; she had very little spare time, working longer hours. She'd hoped by volunteering for extra shifts it would entail spending more time with Archer, but to her disappointment he preferred to work alone. Her off-hours had been spent trying to meditate and aiding Commander Tucker in acquiring a few hours sleep each night through neuropressure.

Any attempt she'd made to talk to the captain was thwarted. He just seemed to close everyone out, locking himself up for hours in the Command Center.

So she'd bided her time, hoping for some opportunity to say something. But it had never presented itself…until two days ago when she'd found him in the conference center. It had seemed a good time to talk; he was alone and she thought maybe he would welcome discussing something other than the Expanse — why not discuss their personal relationship?

She'd hoped to soothe away his pain. Her wish had been to get him to talk about his feelings, what was troubling him, and to assure him of her deep affections. She'd expected him to be pleased at her declaration. Yet it had all gone so terribly wrong.

Glancing at the clock beside her bed she noted it was 7am. There wasn't any point in continuing with her contemplations — so she got up, showered and dressed.

Maybe she should contact her mother and inform her there was a change of plans and she'd be coming to Vulcan earlier than planned. She'd deliberately given herself two weeks, hoping to spend that time with Jonathan. Knowing her mother though, there'd probably be a hundred questions asking why the plans had changed and she didn't want to go into details.

She meandered downstairs to the restaurant for some breakfast. She missed Chef's cooking — no one here could approximate Vulcan cuisine. A bowl of Plomeek broth sounded appealing, but she'd probably have to wait till her return to Vulcan before she tasted anything like it.

She could go over to the Vulcan compound and have breakfast in their main dining area but since resigning her commission she felt like an outcast and doubted she'd be very welcome there.

If she had her own apartment like Jonathan she could have made it herself. Or if she'd been staying with Jonathan…

She tossed that thought aside; that was never going to happen. He wasn't going to invite her to be his house guest or anything else for that matter.

She seated herself down at a table in the corner of the room. A waiter came over and she informed him that she'd help herself from the buffet, but requested some mint tea. He said he'd be right back with that.

She walked over to the buffet. There seemed to be a generous amount of various kinds of fruits. Taking a plate, she piled on a few slices of several types of melon. She also took a banana, an apple and a few grapes. Content with her choices, she returned to her table.

"May I join you?" a familiar voice asked.

She looked up to find Commander Tucker standing over her.

"If you like." It wasn't a very inviting tone, but she wasn't in the mood for company. On the other hand, a direct no might be considered rude.

"Well I'm all packed and ready. Taking the 10am shuttle. You sure you don't wanna join me?"

"I'm sure."

The waiter came over with T'Pol's mint tea and asked Trip what he wanted. The Commander ordered a hearty American breakfast: pancakes, scrambled eggs, hash browns, sausage and two slices of wheat toast along with a pot of coffee.

"You'll be tired for the rest of the day after all that," T'Pol commented.

"Well if I only ate what you're eating, I'd be hungry within an hour. My mom always said to start the day with a hearty breakfast."

"I see."

"So you sleep well?" Trip enquired.

"Yes," she lied.

"Sure doesn't sound it. More like you got up on the wrong side of the bed if you ask me. You still peeved about last night?"

"I don't understand your question."

"I mean upset…is something bothering ya? You've been out of sorts ever since the restaurant thing last night. If you need to talk to someone about whatever's wrong, I'm willing to listen."

"There's nothing wrong with me," she reiterated.

"Okay, I give up then, but not for lack of trying."

"Trip, for some reason you seem to think there is something wrong with me, yet not once have I heard you mention the Captain."

"The Captain? What's he got to do with this?"

"You haven't noticed how he's changed?"

"Sure he's changed. The Expanse changed everyone."

"I don't mean just that. He seems…troubled."

"Hmm…I guess it was odd that he didn't wanna join us for drinks last night. I thought he might just be tired."

Trip's breakfast was served and he tucked in, pouring lashings of maple syrup over his pancakes. "Wanna a bit?" he offered.

She shook her head. "I believe there was more going on last night than the captain being tired," she continued with her line of thought.

"You could be right. Hmm…guess I haven't been much of a friend. If I wasn't leaving for the Caymans this morning I could go check up on him. Thing is…I don't even know if we are friends anymore. It's been more like the commander and captain and nothing more for the last year. I just don't feel it's my place to say anythin'."

"I have felt similarly. The Captain and I were close friends before the Expanse, and that no longer seems to be the case."

Trip could have sworn the Vulcan was on the edge of becoming emotional. Was she in love with the captain? Was that what this was all about?

"T'Pol, I don't know if it makes any difference, but if you ask me, he thinks the world of you. You're definitely one of the most important people in his life."

T'Pol wanted to believe what Tucker told her, but it seemed as if the engineer was just trying to cheer her up in his usual southern manner.

"I could say the same about you. When you were injured and Phlox told him you wouldn't come out of the coma, he was beyond devastated."

"He wouldn't line the ship with Trellium because of you," Trip reminded her.

"I suppose we could both say that he's very caring of his crew."

"Couldn't agree with you more on that point. Never met a more caring, concerned captain, and believe me, I've worked with a number of commanding officers."

"As have I." She sipped her mint tea and remembered how Jonathan had gone back for her on the snowy platform on Rigel Ten during their very first mission. He hadn't even liked her at the time, but protecting his crew was his first priority. It was doubtful that a Vulcan captain would have done the same thing.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked Trip, wanting to change the subject. Discussing Jonathan seemed to be making her feel emotional, and not having slept just exacerbated her current state.

"I'll be in the Caymans for about two weeks. Then I might go to South Carolina. An old college friend invited me over to Myrtle Beach. After that, I'm not sure. Two months waiting for Enterprise to be repaired is a lot of time to kill."

She nodded in agreement and finished up her fruit. "Will you not be seeing your parents?"

"Oh they came to San Francisco for the welcome home ceremony. They're also looking to move to the west coast now, maybe Oregon or Washington. So they're house hunting at the moment."

"I see," she said pushing away her plate. "Well I wish you a pleasant vacation," she said getting up to leave.

"Thanks, T'Pol. Hope you have a nice time on Vulcan."

She bid him goodbye and left the restaurant pondering what to do with her day. She went back to her room and freshened up. Should she try and get in touch with Archer again or would the effort be futile?

She hated how much was left unsaid between them, and she did owe him an apology for disappearing like that yesterday morning. Trip's comment about her being such an important person to the captain had served to encourage her a little.

She made up her mind to go see him, though decided not to give him any warning. She'd just go to the apartment, and hoped he'd be there.

Jonathan woke up to the sound of his front door buzzing. Checking his clock he noted it was just after 9am. Who could it be at this time? It better not be some damn eager reporter, cause he was in no mood for their questions. He thought they'd all given up on him two nights ago.

The door buzzed again. "Okay, I'm coming!" he shouted. He didn't even bother putting on his robe, but went to the door shirtless, dressed only in his PJ bottoms.

"What's the rush?" he demanded, as he unlocked the door. Standing on the other side of his threshold was the last person he'd expected.

"Good morning, Captain. I'm sorry if I woke you." Judging from his appearance that's exactly what she had done. However, it was unusual for him to sleep in. Perhaps she shouldn't make a big deal of it; after all he was off-duty and didn't have a ship to run.

"What is it this time, T'Pol? More riddles?" he asked, his face contorted into a frown.

"Would you mind if I came in?" She felt self-conscious just standing in the hallway with a half-naked man at the door.

"Sure, why not? Haven't had my fill of games yet."

Hmm…this was not starting out well. He was obviously in a bad mood and angry in regard to all that had transpired between them. Last night's encounter at the restaurant had probably just enraged him further.

"Next time you disappear though, can you make sure you shut my door properly? You left it slightly ajar yesterday."

"I wasn't aware that I did. I apologize, Captain," she said as she walked in.

"Back to Captain now is it, T'Pol? It was Jonathan yesterday and the day before."

Was he disappointed at her not calling him by his first name? "What would you prefer?" she asked.

He shrugged his bare shoulders telling her the decision was entirely her choice. "I'm sorry…Jonathan."

"For what?" he asked shutting the door behind her.

"For disappearing yesterday, for not shutting your door properly. Actually, I'd like to apologize for everything. I haven't been very good at communicating with you recently. Though your sarcasm doesn't help much."

"No, I guess it doesn't," he agreed. He suddenly remembered he wasn't dressed and he probably looked a sight — hair standing up, unshaven and all. "Wanna sit down and wait while I get dressed?"

"Yes," she replied and sat down on the sofa.

"Make yourself at home, if there's anything you need — something to eat or drink, just help yourself," he offered.

"I will, thank you." She got up, filled the kettle with water and turned it on to boil. She riffled through his selection of teas and decided to try one of the fruit variety — Celestial Seasonings' Blackcurrent and Vanilla. Though he hadn't asked her, she selected one for him too — Orange Spice. She didn't know why but instinct told her this was his favourite.

She filled two mugs with boiling water, leaving the tea bags in to infuse. She carried the drinks over to the coffee table, sat down and waited.

Porthos came over to investigate who the visitor was. He placed a paw on her leg. She stroked his head as she had that time in Sickbay when she'd thought Jonathan was dead.

Jonathan reappeared, looking more like his usual self, hair brushed and shaven. He'd dressed in black pants and a bright blue shirt that was very becoming. "Sorry if Porthos is bothering you, T'Pol. He's probably hungry."

"He doesn't disturb me."

"Oh?" Jonathan was surprised at her response. "Come here, boy," he called to Porthos, filling his bowl with dog food. Porthos trotted over and had soon forgotten his master's visitor, swallowing his breakfast in large gulps.

Jonathan went to sit with T'Pol. "Since when did you take a liking to Porthos?"

"We became better acquainted when you were off destroying the Xindi weapon. He went into a sort of depression, or at least that's what Phlox called it, when he thought you were dead."

"And you comforted him?"

"Phlox took care of him most of the time, though I did take him for a walk around the ship a few times."

"I'm impressed, T'Pol. I never thought you'd come to tolerate my primitive quadruped. He still doesn't speak and he can't use a toilet."

"You have a good memory, Captain." They'd had that conversation almost two years ago, the night Porthos had been sick.

"Certain phrases stick in my head."

"I made you some tea — I hope you like Orange Spice," T'Pol said trying to stir the conversation away from its current negative direction.

"Thanks, actually it's my favourite." He took a sip.

"I suppose you haven't eaten yet?"

"Nope, I think I was still asleep when you rang the door."

"If you want to have something to eat…I can wait. We don't have to talk at this exact minute." She felt a little nervous; if he talked with a full stomach the outcome could be more favourable.

"Not hungry. The tea is fine. Besides, I don't think there's anything in the apartment. I haven't been to the store yet. When we arrived back, I got in touch with my doorman and asked him if he could get a few things for me. But I think I've used up most of what he bought."

"You don't feel up to going shopping?" she asked with a note of concern.

"T'Pol, maybe you haven't experienced the phenomenon yet, but it gets very tiring when you are asked for your autograph every two minutes."

"Of course, I understand. If you'd like me to purchase anything for you—"

"No, thanks."

Her eyes wandered around the apartment studying the furnishings. It was sparsely decorated but she assumed it fit his needs. He was hardly ever here anyway. She needed to get to the point of her visit, but kept stalling for time.

"How was your dinner with Doctor Phlox?" she asked.

"The food was good. How was your dinner with Trip?"

"The food was acceptable."

"So did Trip leave for the Caymans?"

"He said this morning at breakfast that he was departing at 10am."

"You had breakfast together?" Of course they did! Why ask such stupid questions? They probably spent the night together. Sometimes he acted so dense.

"He was staying at the same hotel as me — but it's not what you think, Captain."

"Doesn't really matter what I think, does it?" He didn't really care to hear any explanations. After last night he'd decided to just accept the reality of Trip and T'Pol's relationship.

"It matters…to me. Somehow you've conjured up the wrong impression."

"Is that what you came here for? To tell me that my impressions are wrong?"

She sighed in exasperation and Vulcans rarely sighed. He wasn't going to budge an inch was he? He just had to continue being sarcastic and close minded.

"Impressions are interesting things. For example, one could say from the small amount of information they garnered that you and the slave girl Rajiin had a relationship, or to put it in human terms — a one night stand."

"Nothing happened, you read my report."

"Do you expect me to believe that a starship captain would note in his report to Admiral Forrest that he'd taken advantage of an alien slave girl?"

"If anyone was taken advantage of it was me, and whoever else she attacked," he replied, trying to keep his anger in check. T'Pol was really pushing his buttons.

"Fair enough. It was an illustration — I was trying to show you how people's impressions can be misconstrued. All it seems to take is a private dinner alone and rumours are flying all over the ship."

"So I had dinner alone with her! Big deal. I've had dinner alone with you countless times, no one ever started any rumours about us."

T'Pol tried to remember the last time she'd had dinner alone with him. It had been before the Xindi attack on Earth. Trip hadn't attended as he was watching a movie in his quarters with Malcolm. It had been the first time the captain and her had been alone since her pathogen induced Pon Farr.

She'd been glad of his company, and the opportunity to explain to him about her illness. He'd been a kind and sympathetic listener, and she'd felt his concern for her. They'd talked for hours, and didn't leave the Captain's Mess till after 2300 hours. Jonathan had walked her back to her cabin and there'd been a moment where she'd thought he might kiss her, but then had pulled back as if he didn't have the courage. If only she'd encouraged him…

"No they didn't, but maybe that's because we are captain and first officer, and it's not unusual for us to eat together. I'm curious am I getting my point across?" she asked.

"You're comparing Rajiin and me to you and Trip?"

"Basically — yes."

"There's no comparison. Nothing happened between Rajiin and me."

"And what makes you so certain "something" happened between the commander and myself?"

"T'Pol, I may have been rather preoccupied with the Xindi mission, but please give me some credit, I'm not blind."

"You witnessed the commander and myself engaging in romantic activities?"

"Er…no…but—"

"Then you have nothing to base your assumptions on except idle gossip started by bored crewmembers."

Jonathan didn't know what to think and he didn't know why he was having a problem in believing T'Pol. It was just that he'd been so certain of her having a relationship with Trip. Everything had pointed to it, including their dinner last night at Madame Chang's and then T'Pol telling him they'd had breakfast together this morning.

"I don't know. Do we have to talk about this?"

"Jonathan, if I denied having a relationship with Commander Tucker, are you saying you wouldn't believe me?"

"T'Pol, I don't know what to believe anymore." He got up from the sofa and went to stand by the living room window. It was unlike T'Pol to lie, so why not believe her? Or maybe she was attempting to spare his feelings. Perhaps there had been something between them, but if it was already over she might just want to sweep it under the rug so to speak.

He sighed. There were too many other things going on his head right now to worry about whether T'Pol and Trip had engaged in a relationship.

T'Pol got up and went to join him by the window. "Talk to me, Jonathan."

"I have nothing to say," he whispered, not looking at her but fixing his gaze on a couple crossing the street below him.

"You rather keep everything locked up inside? If you don't talk to someone it will eat you inside out."

"Why is it so hard for everyone to comprehend. I don't want to talk — and there's nothing to say."

She touched his arm but he flinched away. "You said you loved me."

He turned to face her, shocked at her words. "You must be joking!" He tried to make light of it.

"The other night, here in this apartment, you said you loved me." She felt confident those had been his words as he kissed her.

"Oh, that," he answered, sounding as if he remembered. "You shouldn't be so naïve, T'Pol.""I don't know what you mean.""I was drunk, remember?"

"Yes, I recall but—"

"Well then you should know better than to believe the ramblings of a drunk man." He couldn't remember saying those words to her, but he'd probably meant them at the time. Heck, he still meant them, but there was no future for them.

"Jonathan, there've been many times when you've expressed how much you care for me. Perhaps I was mistaken but when you helped me capture Menos, when you defended me on Dekendii III in front of the Vulcan doctors, when you saved me on the Seleya and then didn't line the ship with Trellium…I began to believe…"

He didn't want to hear about those times, or even remember them. She was right; he had done those things because of his personal feelings for her. "I don't want to reminisce, T'Pol."

"Yesterday you asked me if you hadn't been drunk, would something have happened between us and I was too embarrassed to answer. Well I'll answer now — yes I believe it would." She paused, then added, "Jonathan, I care about you a great deal."

"Lucky I fell asleep then, or we'd have both done something we regretted."

She didn't understand his reaction. She'd told him she cared about him, and yet he still rejected her. Something was eating away at him, and she felt clueless as to how to reach him and somehow help him.

"That wasn't your attitude yesterday morning, if it had been, you wouldn't have asked."

"That's your supposition."

"I don't understand you anymore. In fact, I don't think I know you anymore."

"Apparently I've changed."

"If you're not willing to talk to me, I think you should talk to someone."

"That was Phlox's tune last night, I won't be any more receptive to it coming from you."

"Fine, don't talk to anyone. But do you think you'll be fit to command Enterprise in two months?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"It's my opinion that you should get off your chest whatever is bothering you and before Enterprise is back in commission again."

This conversation was getting tiring. His stomach growled. He should go out for some breakfast. He didn't want to hear T'Pol's reprimands. She only reminded him of how bad he already felt about himself.

"I'm going to get some breakfast at the Spacedock Cafeteria."

"Do you believe anything I have told you?" she asked with exasperation in her voice.

"You haven't said anything new…you think I need to talk about my feelings and you've reiterated that you care about me. Okay I get it. Now I'm going to get some breakfast. You can come if you want."

She didn't answer, just stood rooted to the spot and watched him walk into the bedroom. It seemed there was no way to get through to him.

Jonathan collected his wallet from his bedside, put on his shoes and slipped his door keycard into his pants' pocket. "So, you coming or not then?"

In answer she followed him out the door. Why she was going with him she didn't know. Maybe after breakfast he'd be more forthcoming and communicative. Somehow she doubted it…but still she went.

TBC