A/N: Apologies for the long delay in updating this. I'm hoping updates will be a lot more frequent from now on.
Redemption Chapter 19
Jonathan glanced at his watch. It was approaching midnight. He stifled a yawn and finished off his drink. He'd lost count now of the amount he'd consumed and was feeling rather relaxed and sleepy.
He scanned the dance floor and noticed Antonio and Cynthia were still dancing together for probably the umpteenth time. He wondered where Rebecca had wandered off to. He'd last seen her about an hour ago chatting with some people by the food tables. He wanted to tell her he was leaving. He'd done his duty and played his part, dancing with both Cynthia and Rebecca and pretending to look like he was having a good time.
In reality the time had seemed to crawl past. This really wasn't his scene; he'd have rather stayed at home either watching a movie or reading a book or going for a relaxing walk on the beach. Well he could do that now as he made his way back to the villa. They'd taken a taxi to get here, but getting some fresh sea air before going to bed sounded rather appealing.
He waited a few more minutes to see if Rebecca would make an appearance and then decided to get up and walk towards the open doors out onto the deck. People were dancing out here as well. As he ambled towards the steps leading to the beach he spotted Cynthia who was now alone. He approached her and asked if she knew where Rebecca was.
"I saw her about ten minutes ago. Perhaps she went to the ladies' room. Are you leaving?"
"Yeah, I think it's past my bedtime," he answered. "Can you tell Rebecca I'm going back to the villa?"
"Sure thing."
"Thanks." Then he remembered that she was leaving tomorrow for London and he'd been about to leave without wishing her a safe trip home. "Hope you have a good flight tomorrow."
"Thanks, Jonathan. But you aren't rid of me yet," she teased. "Rebecca invited me for breakfast to the villa tomorrow and then she's driving me to the airport in the afternoon."
"Oh okay then…see you tomorrow." She smiled at him and waved as he walked down the steps towards the sand.
He walked to the water's edge and looked out onto the ocean. In the far distance he could see a bright white light flashing intermittently. He guessed it was the lighthouse. They weren't needed anymore with the sophisticated equipment onboard most sea vessels but he guessed they were kept operational as a tourist attraction.
He took off his shoes and socks and rolled his pants up slightly. Picking up his shoes he walked along the wet sand and let the waves lap at his feet. Listening to the sound of the waves coming in and feeling the tepid water splash at his feet soothed him.
He estimated it was a good half hour walk back to the house. The drive over by taxi had taken several minutes, and it was further by road than directly walking along the shoreline.
It was a full moon tonight and visibility was very good. He could even make out planet Venus amongst the stars. "Goddess of love," he mused to himself and then laughed a little cynically. She hadn't exactly bestowed her blessing on him. He felt a pang of loneliness as he considered how pleasant it would be to have a loved one accompany him.
He'd done the whole walking on the beach holding hands romantic scenario several times over the years with different players in the supporting role. At this moment he could only think of one woman who he'd have liked by his side. And the reason she wasn't there was entirely his own fault.
He sighed. However hard he tried thoughts of her never seemed to completely go away. It was as if she resided there in the back of his mind, resurfacing whenever she felt like it. He had no control over it. Distractions were all well and good, but being alone seemed to be an open invitation for these thoughts.
What was she doing right now? What was she thinking? Did she miss him? It had been four days since he'd spoken to her, maybe it was time to give her a call and check in with her and Porthos. He was certain all was well, but he needed to hear her voice and see her face.
He didn't battle with thoughts of her any longer, and instead permitted memories to surface unbidden. Maybe he was just too tired to fight them off any longer. Images passed before him: of missions shared, of secrets told, of heroic rescues and of private moments of friendship. He smiled as he recalled their day in San Francisco walking along the Golden Gate Bridge. That had been a magical day.
But he frowned when he remembered the evening she'd found him in the conference center brooding over his spat with Soval. That night could have gone so differently if he hadn't overreacted and lost his cool.
He was so touchy these days – the tiniest little thing seemed to set him off. Maybe he needed help with anger management. He'd had no right to fly off the handle like that with her, and she hadn't deserved it.
Sigh…she didn't deserve any of his latest behaviour…including his skulking off to Fiji so he could avoid her and on top of that there was the whole deception involving Rebecca. Hmm…couldn't his brain muster up something more positive? He rifled through a few memories and recalled a recent one.
He remembered walking onto the Bridge with Alicia to the shock of the entire crew. Reports of his death aboard the Xindi weapon had been greatly exaggerated. Hoshi had sprinted up to him, hugging him enthusiastically. Despite that his gaze couldn't be taken off the visage of his first officer. She appeared rooted to the spot, the expression on her face one of shock and disbelief, as if he were an apparition. He released Hoshi and locked eyes with T'Pol. At that moment he'd wanted nothing more than to be alone with her, whisk her away to the privacy of his Ready Room. There he would have wrapped his arms around her convincing her that he was no dream or ghost, but real flesh and blood.
But there'd never been time for such personal moments. Their mission or more accurately Daniels' mission had stood in the way. But what was new? Wasn't that always the case? In every circumstance there'd been impediments to them having such moments. Except now…
Now they had the time and just what was he doing with it? He was thousands of miles away from her, leaving it all unsaid just as he'd done so many times on Enterprise.
He arrived at the house in what seemed like a few minutes, but glancing at his watch he noted it had taken around 25 minutes. His estimate hadn't been far off, but the minutes had seemed to fly past as he'd been lost in his thoughts.
The villa was dark, so he assumed Rebecca hadn't returned yet. He switched the light on in the living room as he stepped through the patio doors which had been left unlocked. There was virtually no crime on the island, and it was unheard of in the vacation areas.
Sliding the door shut he padded across the room to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down in one go. He was feeling rather thirsty after all the alcohol he'd consumed. He slumped down on the couch in front of the television and flicked through a few channels. Nothing appealed to him so he turned it off. He knew he should go to bed, his eyelids felt heavy and he couldn't stop himself from yawning every couple of seconds.
He contemplated calling T'Pol, but decided against it; best to speak to her when he wasn't on the verge of falling asleep. On the other hand talking to her would probably make him more alert. But if their conversation didn't go well there was the chance he wouldn't be able to sleep. Then he realized he was getting his time zones confused, if he called her now she'd be fast asleep, it was the middle of the night for her.
He permitted his eyes to close for a few moments, telling himself he'd get up and go to bed in a few minutes. Within thirty seconds he'd fallen asleep, his head resting on the edge of the sofa.
Rebecca bid her friend goodnight instructing her to be prompt for breakfast tomorrow at 10am.
"That early?" Cynthia asked.
"What do you mean early?"
"Well it's almost 2am now, and you know I'm not a morning person."
"Your flight is at 2pm and you know you need to check in 2 hours before departure. So if you come over at 10 we'll have about an hour and a half together and then I'll drive you to the airport. "
Cynthia agreed with her friend's logic and bid her goodnight. Rebecca stepped into a taxi, grateful that the hotel where the party had been held had an ample supply of them even at this time of night, and instructed the driver to take her back to the villa.
She stepped into the house quietly, careful not to make too much noise as she closed the front door. She gathered Jonathan must be fast asleep in his room. Therefore she was surprised to find the door to his bedroom ajar with no sign of him inside.
Tip-toeing into the living room she found him sitting on the sofa with his head propped up against the side of it. He was still dressed in what he'd worn to the party and was sound asleep.
He must have been tired. She'd never known him to fall asleep in a sitting position. She felt a tad remorseful for having dragged him out to the party. He'd put on a good show but she'd known he wasn't really having a good time. He didn't seem to enjoy much these days and her theory was that the Expanse had done this to him. It was as if it had literally sucked the life out of him. She wanted him to find that joy again, because he deserved it, like any human being did.
Kicking off her heels she went to her room and managed to climb out of her red cocktail dress. She put on her pyjamas and went into the kitchen to get some water.
Jonathan needed to be awakened. If he was left there all night in that position he'd have a hell of a neck ache in the morning. Finishing her water and depositing the glass in the sink she ambled over to him. She was about to gently shake him awake when she found herself studying his face, and a rather distinguished and handsome one it was at that. She smiled to herself as she noticed that he had the longest eyelashes of any man she knew.
He looked adorable when he slept and a lot younger. It was as if in sleep his face was wiped clean of the strains and guilt that plagued him during the day.
She crouched down so she was level with him and gently caressed his cheek with her hand. "Oh, Jonathan," she whispered "what am I going to do with you?" If only there was some way she could help him…or at least if there was a way to alleviate the pain he suffered.
She knew it was there…even if he hadn't mentioned it in the last three days. It was always there…etched in that beautiful face of his. But now, as he slept peacefully, it had disappeared…albeit momentarily.
She hated to see anyone unhappy…but it pained her even more to see someone she'd loved once…who was dear to her carry around this burden on his shoulders. Whatever he felt guilty about…she couldn't imagine it was that bad. Jonathan Archer wasn't a man who committed wrong…at least not the man she knew. And if he'd ever done a wrong, he'd done his utmost to put it right.
He stirred in response to her voice but didn't open his eyes. "Jon." She shook him gently by the shoulders.
"Mmm…" he answered but didn't open his eyes.
"Jon, wake up," she said, a little more loudly this time. "You can't sleep here all night." Still no reaction.
"Jonathan!"
His eyes opened slowly and it appeared as if he was trying to make out who she was.
"T'Pol?" he asked, slightly squinting.
Was he dreaming? Maybe he was in that half dream/half awake stage people sometimes experienced. He'd probably been dreaming about the Vulcan again.
"Sorry to disappoint, Jon, but it's me."
"Rebecca?"
"Yeah. You okay?" He still seemed disorientated. He straightened up and shook his head, as if to rid it of cobwebs. He rolled his neck around once then massaged the back of it with his right hand.
"Lucky you're awake now and not in the morning. I can only imagine how stiff that neck would be then."
"Yeah…I guess," he answered. "What time is it?"
"2:10am."
"Oh, I must have fallen asleep sitting up."
"That seems the obvious conclusion. Come on," she said offering her hand to help him get up, "let's get you into bed."
He took her offered hand and stood up. "Thanks, I think I know the way."
She followed him anyway just to make sure he didn't trip or slip up. He didn't seem to be fully awake and in this state it was safer to just keep an eye on him. He stumbled into his room and plonked himself on the bed.
"Need a hand?" she enquired.
He looked up at her. "Er…no I think I can manage." He started to unbutton his shirt.
Rebecca stood in the doorway leaning against the frame. "Were you dreaming when I woke you up?" Normally she'd have left this conversation to morning but with Cynthia coming around for breakfast she'd ask him now. In this less-than-awake state he might not be so on guard with her questions.
"No…don't think so."
He placed his shirt on a chair and took off his pants. He looked up at Rebecca. "You just gonna stand there and watch me undress?"
"Nothing I haven't seen before."
He shrugged, took his pyjama bottoms out of a draw and went into the bathroom. A few minutes later he reappeared and climbed into bed. He leaned over to turn off the light and glanced in her direction.
"Goodnight, Rebecca."
"You called me T'Pol."
"Huh?" He gave her a confused expression.
"When I woke you up, I believe you thought I was your Vulcan first officer. Perhaps you'd been dreaming of her."
"Oh…I don't recall." His voice was sleepy.
"It's okay, Jon. It's not as if it's the first time."
"What do you mean?"
"You did it that day we went sailing, on the beach. I just didn't say anything."
"Did what?"
"You called me T'Pol. This is the second time it's happened. I would therefore conclude she's on your mind, be it your conscious or subconscious one."
"Aren't you tired?" he asked. It was obvious he didn't wish this conversation to continue.
"A little, but I didn't have as much to drink as you. Listen, I don't want to keep you awake, I can see you fighting to keep your eyes open. But do you think we could agree on this one thing?"
"What one thing?"
"How about you agreeing not to deny how you feel about T'Pol anymore?"
"Rebecca—"
"No, I'm not gonna drop it. I'm asking for this one concession, I don't see why you can't admit it. I don't bug you about the Expanse. But I can't pretend any more about this. It's obvious you're in love with her. I don't understand why that has to be a secret."
"If I agree can I turn off the light and get some shut eye?" The despondency in his voice was evident.
"Yes, of course."
"Okay, I agree. Goodnight." With that he turned off the light and she assumed that was her cue to leave. She gently shut his bedroom door, whispering goodnight and retreated to the living room.
Hmm…that was almost too easy. Usually he put up such a fight. Had he grown tired of denying the truth? The most plausible theory was that he was simply too tired to argue about this now and if they'd had the conversation at any other time he'd have denied any such feelings for T'Pol vehemently.
Well at least she'd heard it from his own lips now, so he couldn't lie about it any longer. Besides she wouldn't have brought the subject up if he hadn't called her T'Pol. And this was the second time in the space of a few days.
They could always get into it more after she returned from the airport tomorrow afternoon. So she'd finally got him to admit this. Now maybe she could work on him actually acting on how he felt.
T'Pol awoke to the sound of driving rain the next morning. She climbed out of bed and opened the curtains in Jonathan's bedroom. Yes her hearing hadn't failed her. It was a downpour, and it didn't look like it was going to let up. Scanning the horizon there were dark grey clouds as far as the eye could see.
She strolled into the living room and taped in a few keys on the computer to see what the prediction for this afternoon's weather was to be. She'd invited Phlox to join her for a walk in Golden Gate State Park, but it looked like those plans weren't going to pan out.
Yesterday the local meteorological office had predicted a sunny warm day. Now it was apparent their predictions were completely off. She contacted Phlox to ask him if there was anything else he'd like to do that wouldn't be hindered by increment weather.
The doctor appeared on the screen smiling and jolly as always. For a moment T'Pol pondered if she'd ever seen him miserable, or if he was even capable of the emotion. True there had been times in the Expanse when he'd been sombre, especially when delivering news of fatalities, but otherwise he seemed totally unperturbed by things that often upset humans. It was obvious Denobulans had a much brighter outlook on life than their Terran counterparts.
Phlox suggested they go to the Legion of Honor Arts Museum in Lincoln Park which overlooked the Golden Gate Bridge. He'd heard this was San Francisco's most beautiful museum, and explained that there was no logical reason for them to put off their afternoon together just because of the rain. T'Pol agreed and arranged to meet him at Jonathan's apartment around 1pm.
In the meantime she had breakfast, fed Porthos, showered, had lunch and changed into her outfit for the afternoon. Whilst these activities had kept her occupied none of them did a good job of distracting her mind from thoughts of yesterday's discoveries: finding Jonathan's letters and learning the truth about Margaret Mullin.
These distracting thoughts had resulted in a night of tossing and turning. She estimated she must have slept around three hours in total before the sound of the rain had woken her up. And she must have been sleeping very lightly for that to have happened.
Before her lunch with Steve yesterday, she'd known Maggie was this girl Jonathan had loved and had wanted to marry. But he'd told her a lot more. Now she knew that Maggie had refused Archer's proposal of marriage and the young pilot had been devastated. It had taken Steve a while to put it all together, but finally he'd tracked Maggie down in Denver and got in touch. He was furious with her for breaking his friend's heart. He'd tried to contact Jon, but apparently he'd disappeared off the face of the earth.
Steve told her that in the long run Maggie had felt she'd done Archer a favour. She wasn't the right woman for him, and she couldn't sit by and be the good wife while he was off god knows where testing new spacecraft or exploring the great unknown.
T'Pol had commented that if Miss Mullin knew all of this why had she become involved in the first place? To her it appeared illogical to attach oneself to a man if one knew the relationship was doomed from the beginning. Steve surmised that she hadn't known and had probably been swept off her feet at the time, and then all of a sudden things had become very serious.
T'Pol felt dissatisfied with the explanation. From what she'd heard Maggie sounded like an intelligent woman. Did attraction and love negate one's reasoning? It seemed to in humans.
She'd questioned Steve as to what had happened to Jonathan. It had apparently taken him a lot longer to find Archer than it had to contact Maggie. He'd been due to start Starfleet training after graduating from flight school but hadn't turned up for any of his classes. Steve discovered after some digging around that Jon had requested a three month leave of absence.
At first this seemed very un-Archer like to T'Pol. She couldn't imagine him running away like this over a romantic liaison. But then he'd been a lot younger. On second thought…maybe it did ring true. He'd run off to Fiji with Rebecca hadn't he? Not that T'Pol was the only reason for him running away; there was all the other stuff he was dealing with in regard to the Illyrians and what had occurred in the Expanse.
Perhaps when push came to shove running away was his means of coping. He had in effect run away in the Expanse even while serving with the crew each and every day. He'd cut off those closest to him and isolated himself, becoming an island.
Steve had come to a dead end in locating Archer being forced to wait till the three months were up before hearing any news. Maggie had contacted him a few times asking if he'd heard from Archer but he never had any information to give her. T'Pol wondered if Maggie had felt guilty or regretted her decision. Steve explained that she felt responsible for him doing a disappearing act, and while she wouldn't have rescinded her refusal, she still cared.
Steve had concluded the story by explaining that Archer had turned up back at Starfleet three months later as if nothing had happened. They'd talked a few times briefly but Jon had seemed closed off. Discussion of Maggie was off-limits and he'd refuse to answer any questions in regard to her. He wouldn't even explain his three month absence. As time went by it was harder and harder to get a hold of him. Steve explained that Jon seemed to throw himself into his work, spending long hours and trying to climb up the Starfleet career ladder as fast as he could. Steve had invited him out to the east coast on several occasions but Jon always refused saying he didn't have time.
Then when Steve had received an assignment to work in London for a year, they'd lost touch completely. On his return to the States he took up a residency position in Baltimore and his work kept him very busy. Now and then he'd hear something about Archer through the grapevine from mutual friends or there'd be an article on the news about the latest breakthrough on the warp 5 engine design.
Neither one of them had maintained their friendship. T'Pol had mused that it was a shame. Archer didn't seem to have a lot of close friends. The only ones she knew of apart from herself were A.G., who was dead, and Trip. Life couldn't have been easy having to shoulder such responsibilities as Jonathan did with no one to confide in. It seemed he'd dealt with his heartbreak over Maggie on his own, soldiered on in the face of Vulcan opposition to get his father's engine into space, and then in the Expanse single-handedly taken on the responsibility of saving Earth. It was inevitable that all of these events would take a toll on him psychologically.
Steve had noticed her lost in thought and had enquired what her conclusions were. She'd merely answered that she was mulling over the information he'd provided her with. He'd pressed on as to what she really thought, but she evaded him. She'd guessed if it hadn't been that his lunch break was over, he'd have questioned her more.
So that was the story of Margaret Mullin – perhaps not the entire tale, but some of it at least. For Jonathan to have taken three months off like that and disappeared to who knows where, her refusal must have been both shocking and devastating. She pondered if he'd ever talked to anyone about Maggie — did Trip know? Had he ever told A.G.?
Maybe that was just the way Jonathan was – he didn't tell anyone about his love life or romantic feelings, not even friends. She'd learnt from her time onboard Enterprise that human men were far less likely to talk about romantic relationships than women, who seemed more than happy to discuss their latest crush or attraction with a fellow female crewmember. But still, she imagined that some men did share. She could see men like Malcolm and Trip discussing their latest conquests. But Jonathan was different.
From this she surmised no one had a clue about his feelings for her – those letters she'd discovered yesterday were the only evidence in existence. Trip had told her a few days ago at breakfast that she meant the world to Archer – but that didn't mean he thought the captain had romantic feelings for her. No, she felt certain it was his deep dark secret, that is, if he even felt that way anymore.
She slipped on her jacket and took an umbrella with her, deciding to meet Phlox at the entrance to the apartment building which would save him from having to come upstairs to meet her. It was almost 1pm so he'd be here any minute.
The museum sounded interesting and she hoped there would be some interesting exhibits. At least she'd get a break from thinking about Jonathan, Margaret and the letters for a few hours.
She checked on Porthos before she left and found him taking an afternoon nap in his basket. She filled his water bowl and made sure there was enough food in his bowl in case she wasn't back for his dinner. With that she closed the apartment door and made her way to the front entrance.
Phlox and T'Pol meandered through the different exhibits exchanging comments if there was something that took their particular interest. T'Pol found the work of French artist Claude Monet pleasing. His style was soothing. In particular she liked the simplicity of the painting of a Japanese foot-bridge over a lily pond. Phlox stated that he preferred the paintings of the Italian city of Venice.
"Have you heard from the captain lately?" the doctor enquired as they walked into the next hall of paintings.
"No, I've had no news since he called me last five days ago."
"I hope he's getting plenty of rest."
"Yes," she answered absent-mindedly. She wondered why Jonathan hadn't called. She'd expected him to at least check in on Porthos. Perhaps he didn't as it made him uncomfortable.
"I saw Dr. Johnson again," she stated, trying to get off the topic of Jonathan.
"Interesting," Phlox mused. "And did you learn anything new?"
She didn't want to go into any details about Margaret Mullin; that was something very private. She imagined Jonathan probably wouldn't be too happy about her knowing. "He told me more of his friendship with the captain, but it seems they lost touch not long after the captain graduated from flight school."
"Perhaps they'll rekindle their friendship upon the captain's return. I'm sure he'd like that."
"Perhaps."
They'd been walking around the museum for over two hours, so Phlox suggested they sit down for a while at the museum café and have a bite to eat. She wasn't hungry, thirsty or tired, despite her lack of sleep, but complied for her friend's sake.
"Are you well, T'Pol?" Phlox asked after devouring two large sandwiches and a generous portion of potato chips. He was now working on the lemon meringue pie.
"I'm fine, Doctor."
"You look a little pale. Perhaps you are tired?"
"I feel fine."
"Have you been sleeping well? Not neglecting your meditation I hope?"
"I had a little difficulty sleeping last night," she confessed, knowing he wouldn't give up on the barrage of questions if she didn't at least give him something to work with.
"Something on your mind?"
"Not particularly."
"T'Pol, I appreciate you like to keep things to yourself, but if there's anything you need to get off your chest—"
"Yes, I know, Phlox. And I appreciate the offer." However kind Phlox was there was no way she was going to start divulging things like her feelings for the captain, or the letters she'd found.
"Very well."
He changed the subject and told her that two of his wives would be coming to Earth next week for a short visit.
"That is good news. I'm sure you are anticipating the event with pleasure."
"Yes, it will be good to see them. I'm surprised you didn't go back to Vulcan, T'Pol."
"I'm planning to, but I wanted to spend some time in San Francisco first."
"Any particular reason?" Phlox's curiosity seemed piqued.
Of course the real reason had been because she'd hoped to spend some personal time with Jonathan; instead he was off in Fiji with Rebecca. She thought for a moment then answered. "It's an interesting city and I'm only now beginning to appreciate it. When I was stationed at the Vulcan compound it wasn't looked upon favourably if we tried to spend time outside of its walls."
"That's a pity. Considering how your people wish to embrace diversity I would think that kind of exploration would be encouraged."
She didn't answer but took a sip of her fruit tea which she'd ordered. It seemed she'd managed to satisfy the doctor's curiosity. Glancing at his plate she saw that he'd finished eating his pie and suggested they continue perusing the different exhibits; that was if he'd rested enough. He agreed that he had.
T'Pol spent the rest of the day with the doctor. She gratefully accepted his invitation to dinner after finishing with the museum. She didn't care for going back to the apartment yet and appreciated his company.
After dinner they walked back together along the streets of San Francisco to Jonathan's apartment. The evening was damp and foggy and she drew her jacket around her to keep out the cold. However it had been her suggestion to walk. It wasn't raining any longer and she needed to stretch her legs and get some fresh air having spent most of the day indoors.
She said goodnight to Phlox outside the apartment building as he got into a taxi. She entered and made her way to the elevator and then exited when it reached the 12th floor.
Porthos was pleased to see her as she walked in, jumping around her legs enthusiastically. Glancing at his bowl she noted it was empty and was grateful that she'd thought to leave him something earlier. Opening the fridge door she took out the cheese and cut him a few slices, depositing them in said bowl.
She hung up her jacket in the closet and then noticed a red light flashing on the computer terminal. Someone had left her a message. In a few strides she was at the desk and taped a few keys for the message to play.
To her surprise Jonathan's face appeared on screen.
"Hi T'Pol, just thought I'd check in and see how things are with you and Porthos. I guess you're out. Hope all is well and that Porthos isn't being too much of a bother. Umm…well…everything's fine here…we're doing fine. Weather's great…been sailing and diving…you know the usual water sports kind of stuff. So…umm… guess I'll try you again tomorrow or if you wanna call me back…feel free."
She checked the time log and noted that he'd called about twenty minutes ago. If she had taken a taxi from the restaurant instead of walking back she'd have been here. She contemplated calling him back. It was 10:30pm here which meant it was 5:30pm there. He was probably getting ready to go out to dinner. No, she wouldn't bother him now, it could wait, or he could call her tomorrow. Besides, she didn't wish to appear eager to speak to him.
She played the message over again, listening to his voice and studying his face. He appeared to havegained some weight which suited him and he looked healthier. He was rather tanned probably having spent a lot of time in the sun. But something bothered her. The message sounded stilted and he appeared nervous.
Also, while he claimed that everything was fine, she felt this was more of a show than anything else. Her instincts told her that nothing had changed – if all he'd done was sweep his guilt and feelings under the proverbial rug then as soon as he returned to San Francisco or for that matter took up command of Enterprise he'd have to deal with all of it head on.
That's what worried her the most.
She watched it a third time and then chided herself for doing so. Did she really miss him that much that she had to watch the message three times? How unVulcan and weak of her! But was it weak to love him? She comforted herself by remembering what V'Lar had told her aboard Enterprise – that they were their emotions as well. Surely she wasn't the first Vulcan to ever be emotionally attached to a man, though she probably was the first to love a human.
She switched off the computer and made herself some camomile tea. Taking the copy of Jane Eyre off the shelf she continued to read from where she'd left off. For now thoughts of Jonathan were pushed aside as she immersed herself in the fictitious tale of Rochester and Jane.
TBC