Chapter 16

AU for "Home"

A/N: This chapter is twice as long as they usually are, but I wanted to post the end today without dragging it out. :) I hope you enjoy it!

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In the past, T'Pol's ability to suppress emotion meant that time never surprised her: five minutes felt the same no matter what task she was completing or anticipating.

But emotion, she had realized, had the effect of skewing her perception of time and situation both. In particular, trepidation and anticipation seemed most at fault. In this moment, standing in front of this door, the last thirty seconds of hesitation had felt interminable. Knowing what—and who—was on the other side of the door had made no difference. This encounter could be positive or negative, but the thought of the latter seemed to make time slow to a crawl.

If she were honest with herself, T'Pol would admit that some of her hesitation stemmed from frustration that she had managed to avoid this encounter several times already, and yet now, she had no choice. She could have visited her older counterpart when their ships first met. Later, she could have sought her out when their Enterprise saved her own. She'd had another opportunity when they'd all returned to Earth, victorious against the Xindi. And the last several days, she'd actively planned to avoid the other T'Pol.

Yes, she had had several opportunities, but she hadn't taken advantage of any of them. Her antipathy for doing so sprang from the same source of fear Trip had uncovered near the fireplains. It was deep, and it was powerful.

Her finger hovered above the door chime, dread pulsing along with her heartbeat. It made logical sense to be here, but emotionally, she felt wholly unprepared. She was only here now because her very future was on the line. But if she could have avoided it, if there was any other way—

But there wasn't.

She could also admit that alongside the fear sat jealousy, an emotion she was becoming all too familiar with. Comparing herself with her older counterpart was an inevitable outcome of this meeting. The older T'Pol had found peace in her emotions; the younger felt as if she were on the brink of implosion. The older had found harmony in her marriage to Trip for over a decade; the younger felt her hope for a similar future was rapidly disappearing.

The tantalizing possibility of a different outcome, however slight, was the lure that brought her before this door. She was here because it beckoned, undeniable. Any chance at all deserved exploration.

But most importantly, she was here because Trip had requested it. Their last chance, he had said. The fact that he was right did not make this inevitable conversation any easier.

Taking a deep breath, T'Pol firmly pressed the door chime and waited.

The room was small—Vulcan guest accommodations always were—but its occupant was elderly, so it did not surprise T'Pol overmuch when a few minutes passed before the door was opened. What did surprise her was her own reaction when the door slid back: she momentarily lost her breath, and with it, her ability to speak.

Her counterpart was not just elderly, she was fragile. Weak. It seemed that recent events had overtaxed her. Or perhaps, at her advanced age, she always appeared so.

"Hello, Commander," she said, shuffling backwards and gesturing for her guest to enter the room. "I've been expecting you."

T'Pol's heart pounded. She watched as T'Pol the Elder moved slowly, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the neatly made bed. She didn't just sit—she gripped the solid surfaces near her and carefully eased herself down. It appeared a routine of long practice.

T'Pol the Younger took a deep breath and attempted to steady herself. This was a confrontation not just with herself, but with her own mortality.

"Would you like some tea?"

She started at the question. "No, thank you."

"Very well." The older T'Pol pored herself a cup from the tea service on the nearby table and blew on it gently before sipping. "I am surprised you are here."

"Surprised?"

"Yes. I had expected to see you when we encountered your ship in the expanse. And again, I had expected to spend time with you in our mother's home these last few days. But when I did not see you in either instance—" she paused, considering. "I concluded I did not remember my younger self as well as I thought."

"Becoming aware of you, of your past—it was quite unsettling. I needed time."

"That is understandable." She took another sip of her tea. "Still, at first I was certain you would seek me out. After all—I was successful in overcoming my addiction to trellium."

T'Pol stared at her for a long moment before answering. Her counterpart's gaze was steady, thoughtful, knowing. But she could not conclude it was unemotional. This T'Pol had lived a lifetime with emotions as part of her daily life—she had discovered how to live in harmony with them.

Even after losing Trip.

The thought startled her. Was Trip not the key to her emotional balance? She'd been convinced he was, but this T'Pol had lived for nearly a century without her mate.

But then again, the older T'Pol had been bonded to him for over a decade before he died. Such a constant span of time with a strong bond—surely that had been the key to her ability to survive his loss.

And yet one more reason why it was so important to gain her insight.

"Learning how you recovered from addiction is not the only reason I am here," T'Pol said after a few moments.

The older T'Pol nodded and set down her teacup. She folded her hands in her lap. "Ahh. You wish to know about my marriage to Trip."

"Yes."

The sharp eyes narrowed. "Are you considering severing your ties with him? Our mother mentioned that Koss had contacted you."

T'Pol drew in her breath sharply. "I am faced with a difficult decision." She paused. "And I am not convinced I am what's best for Trip."

The elder T'Pol's expression relaxed with sympathy. "I have learned one very important lesson about humans in my time with them. They do not like others making decisions for them, especially when those decisions involve emotions like love and loyalty."

The younger T'Pol looked away. "He feels responsible for me. I have already caused him so much pain. The emotions are intense."

"They are," the elder acknowledged. "But you must ask him. You must respect his wishes. It is his choice—and it seems he has chosen you."

The gentle reminder was welcome, but it did little to soothe her concern that she had already been a damaging burden to Trip.

The older T'Pol continued. "What is the human saying? It is pointless to shut the door when the horse has already left the barn?"

T'Pol forced her anxiety aside and raised an eyebrow in reluctant amusement. "I am not familiar with this idiom."

Her eyes twinkled as she raised her teacup. "Human witticisms are surprisingly useful."

"I agree." A surprisingly comfortable silence fell, the older T'Pol looking down into her teacup, thinking. "Well," she finally said. "I think, if you wish to know about my relationship with Trip, it is best to begin with the Trellium addiction."

T'Pol nodded. It was a logical place to begin, and although difficult, not nearly as painful as the problems of now. Strange to think that what had once been her most acutely painful secret was now a familiar dull ache, and one she could manage.

"You do not need to convey everything," she said to the older T'Pol. "I think it is safe to assume that our memories are identical up until we encountered your vessel."

Older T'Pol nodded. "I believe so, yes, with one important difference: yours are more recent, and in consequence, more vivid."

"Yet you have had more time for reflection," she countered. "More distance and therefore more clarity."

The older tilted her head, seemingly intrigued by the idea. "Is that how memory works, do you think?"

"Memory engrams do degrade over time," the younger said slowly. "However, self-perception becomes clearer as the impact of strong emotion fades. Or so the studies I've read would claim."

The older T'Pol set down her teacup with a clink. "I think we can set aside the research for now, hmm? Our own perceptions are all that is relevant at this point. They are what influences our decision-making, after all." She paused, thoughtful. "Let's start with the addiction itself. What is your perception of why we began consuming trellium?"

The answer came quickly: this much she knew for certain. "To experience emotion more fully."

Older T'Pol nodded. "I agree. But would you also agree that it was primarily motivated by a need for connection with others?"

"Perhaps. What do you mean?"

"I have come to conclude that I felt isolated, distant, because I was one amongst many who were very different from myself. Unlike Dr. Phlox, who was practiced in finding common ground with others, I did not have the skill to be able to find commonality with others."

Truth resonated in her words, and the younger T'Pol nodded in agreement. "Vulcan society is built upon adhering to the collective."

"Quite true. And as a result, we are unpracticed as a people in finding ways to align ourselves with others, to make true connection with those who are different."

The younger T'Pol considered that. "But do you agree that Vulcan society also would determine that need for connection to be illogical?"

"Do they?" The older T'Pol seemed amused by this thought. "Perhaps they would say so, but I do not believe it is true. We are a people of layers—appearing calm and logical superficially, yet deeply emotional within. As much as our people would like to think volatile emotion is a thing of the past, evidence proves otherwise."

"Such as?"

"Political machinations, for one. Using logic as a cover, politicians still fight for power out of a desire for personal or clan gain. Corruption still exists on Vulcan; no one can dispute that. Although I have not been a part of Vulcan society for a century, I remember its idiosyncrasies."

T'Pol fought against clenching her teeth as Koss and his family immediately sprang to mind. Idiosyncratic, indeed.

"So you are saying that if emotion—and connection—were completely unnecessary, then conflict would also be entirely absent."

"Precisely." Older T'Pol's eyes gleamed at being understood so fully. "And if emotion and connection were completely unnecessary, then we would be perfectly capable of existing in isolation from our own people without difficulty."

T'Pol paused to think. In San Francisco, she had felt most comfortable in the Vulcan compound, and she realized that all of her colleagues had as well. They stayed together—the familiarity was predictable and it made the application of logic seamless. But venturing out, while thrilling, could be upsetting.

"So you posit that while I did want to experience emotion, this desire was motivated by an underlying need for connection?"

"Yes. It is my belief that I was trying to find the comfort and familiarity of another who could understand me. Or at the very least, appreciate me as I was in my most natural state."

"And Trip was that person."

"Of course. Is he not for you as well?"

T'Pol thought about it. Trip was so very different from her, but as their bond had strengthened, that difference was becoming negligible. In every encounter, he sought to aid her, to find common ground. To be her complement in every way.

"I believe he is."

They let silence fall. After some time had passed, the younger T'Pol finally spoke. "Could you have overcome your addiction without him?"

Her counterpart looked down, unfolding her trembling hands and examining them. For the first time, the younger T'Pol realized that she was wearing a thin gold band, dulled by age, on her left hand.

She gently ran her thumb over the band before answering. "If I am honest with myself, I think the answer is yes." She looked up, and her eyes were pained. "It would have been extremely difficult. I may have become a very different person, someone less productive, less healthy, if I had not had Trip to aid me. But yes, I could have overcome it without him."

"But you believe you made the right choice."

Her eyes took on the faraway look of memory. "Most certainly."

"Why?"

She looked back, determined. "He brought me balance. Trip had a way of siphoning off my most volatile emotions, of absorbing them and making them dissipate. And once we became intimate, it became second-nature."

The younger T'Pol recalled their encounters recently. In the days since their most recent physical intimacy, Trip had connected with her three times—giving her his reassurance that first night on Vulcan, helping her process her anger after her conversation with her mother, and just hours earlier, uncovering the layers of emotion that were obscuring the deepest one of all: her fear.

Each time when she had opened herself to him, he had removed the burdens within minutes. He seemed to know instinctively how to strip away the feelings that choked her and provide her nearly instantaneous relief.

But second-nature—that was not how she would have described it. It had been a difficult, sometimes painful process. The speed of the action was not equivalent to its ease. They'd left each encounter drained, even if better for it.

Only sexual connection had been more efficient and less difficult. Most importantly, it had not just neutralized negative emotions—it had stimulated new ones. Even so, it was not practical to use that method every time her emotions overwhelmed her.

When T'Pol looked up, the older T'Pol was watching her patiently.

The younger returned to the conversation. "You said it became second-nature. I do not understand."

The older T'Pol took a moment to organize her thinking. When she spoke, T'Pol held her breath. "The give and take during mating—the connection one makes with one's partner not just physically, but emotionally—allows that exchange, that equalization, to occur simultaneously with physical release. When intimacy is frequent, the volatility of emotion at all times is lessened. The bond—I have come to realize that this is how the bond has evolved within our species. Its evolutionary intent, if I can be so bold as to theorize—is to allow Vulcan mates to come to rely on each other for balance."

"But we are not Vulcan mates."

She nodded in agreement. "True. With my damaged neural pathways, a Vulcan mate could have been helpful, but a human mate was more so."

T'Pol felt her pulse quicken. "A Vulcan mate would not have been as effective?"

The older T'Pol tilted her head, thinking. "I am biased, and I cannot prove it. But yes, I believe a human mate—and Trip specifically—was the best path to my recovery."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. First, our compatibility was surprisingly strong. Such harmony made our bond strengthen exponentially once we both fully accepted it. Second, Trip immediately understood my internal struggle—so similar to humans'—and his aid was that much more effective as a result."

T'Pol felt herself relax, but not entirely. So far, all of this was to her benefit.

"And Trip? The relationship you describe seems as if it would be taxing on him."

The older T'Pol shook her head. "To hear my Trip describe it, our relationship was nothing but a benefit to him."

It seemed unbalanced to her. "That does not make sense."

She shrugged. "It is another paradox of humanity. There are many of their species who are fulfilled by helping others, especially those they love. My Trip described it as being useful—it was a tangible way he could help me, and he received fulfillment from that sacrifice."

"Then when he died—how did you survive?"

At that question, the older T'Pol's eyes shuttered. She was quiet for so long that the younger T'Pol thought she may not answer.

Finally, she said in a trembling voice, "I cannot answer that. I do not know."

T'Pol was startled yet again. She had come here expecting a version of herself, a century and a half older, to have discovered the answers to life's questions. To have solved the struggles that she herself faced daily. But now, as she looked at the worn face of her counterpart, she discovered that some of life's problems could never be solved.

It appeared that losing one's mate was one of them.

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It was not a long walk from the village's guest accommodations back to her mother's house, but T'Pol took her time on the winding path, thinking. The mountain blocked the sun, and in the cool shade of the red stone, T'Pol let her mind wander over everything older T'Pol had told her and considered what she could do with the information gained from her revelations.

So far, nothing her counterpart had said would solve the problem of Koss.

Perhaps she should have asked her opinion on such a pressing concern. But there sitting across from her, T'Pol realized that seeking advice for Koss' blackmail was a misuse of this opportunity. The valuable knowledge the older T'Pol had was her experience living as herself. And from that came crucial insights gleaned from a century of self-reflection.

Concern over Koss, even considering the seriousness of the problem, seemed transitory. Concern over the viability of her relationship with Trip, including his importance to her ability to process emotion, felt fundamental.

So then, it was true that this conversation had not solved the problem of Koss. But it had given her evidence to convince her mother that fighting Koss's family was worthwhile.

And if fighting was not possible, perhaps asylum was.

T'Les was unlikely to look favorably on the idea of leaving Vulcan under these circumstances. But if T'Pol revealed the whole truth—her trellium addiction, the damage it had caused her, and the path to recovery via her bond with Trip, a path proven effective by her counterpart's experiences—T'Les might realize that the balance was in Trip's favor, not Koss'.

Fear and uncertainty bloomed inside her at the thought of such a conversation with her mother. Their relationship had always been an imbalance of power, as most parent-child relationships were. But it seemed at times that T'Pol had never moved past her adolescence. She had left home at such a young age, joining the high command as soon as she was able.

Whenever she returned home, the tendency to revert to her antagonistic relationship with her mother was strong. Throughout adulthood, she'd avoided coming home whenever possible, and she'd fought to suppress her childish reactions when avoiding home had been impossible.

But this time, avoidance was not an option. If she remained silent, marriage to Koss was the only certain outcome.

T'Pol had reached the house by this time, opening the gate and entering the tranquility of the courtyard with a tired exhale. She stopped abruptly as she entered the house, blinking in disbelief at the sight in front of her.

Koss was there. So was Koss's uncle, Kevan, the head of the Vulcan Security Ministry. With them was an elderly Vulcan male, his silver hair glinting in the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the windows.

T'Les was seated nearby, her eyes cold and back stiff. Trip stood behind her mother, feet firmly planted, arms crossed, glowering at their guests.

"You have returned," Koss said, his voice welcoming.

His ingratiating tone made her teeth clench.

"Obviously," T'Pol said coldly. "Why are you here?"

"This is Sobek," T'Les said, answering before Koss had a chance to respond. "He is the officiate for your wedding."

T'Pol's eyes shot to Trip's. He met her gaze, and she was surprised by what she saw there. Concern, for her. And a tiny bit of dark humor.

Her anger piqued. You think this is amusing?

The tiny twinkle in his eye immediately disappeared, and T'Pol realized too late she was sad to see it go.

Not really, he responded in her mind. I'll explain later. Just chalk it up to human perversity. He paused. You okay?

T'Pol took a deep breath and held his eyes for a fraction longer before turning back to Koss.

"Again, I ask: why are you here?"

Koss had been looking between her and Trip in the fraught silence, and she saw a glint of irritation in his eyes before he quickly smothered it.

"Our wedding has been set for tomorrow," he said placidly. "Sobek is here to begin preparations for our bonding."

She lifted her chin and looked down at him, perversely pleased she had not taken the two steps down into the main living space. "I have not agreed to marry you."

"It is an inevitability you must accept," Kevan said coldly. "Your mother's future depends upon it."

At that, Sobek turned sharply and pinned Kevan with an imperious stare.

"Vulcan marriages must be fully agreed to by both parties, or a true bond cannot be formed." His voice was surprisingly strong for one of such advanced age. "Are you implying that this marriage is coerced?"

"On the contrary," Koss said smoothly. "My uncle simply means that an alliance with my family will aid in T'Les' future at the science academy. New opportunities often arise when families are joined."

Sobek made a sound of skepticism before turning to T'Pol. "Are you in favor of this marriage?"

T'Pol hesitated, meeting her mother's eyes. What she saw there surprised her. T'Les was not looking at her with censure, encouragement, or even expectation. She seemed—frustrated.

"I recognize that this marriage will benefit my family," T'Pol said carefully. It was the truth, but only a fraction of the story. If Kevan and Koss brought Sobek here, his loyalties were questionable.

Sobek's stare seemed to pierce through to her soul. After a few tense moments, he stood.

"Very well." He turned to T'Les. "Do you have a private space where I may do a telepathic reading with your daughter?"

T'Les raised an eyebrow. "You believe one is necessary?"

Sobek nodded once.

Koss stood, coming to Sobek's side. "Surely such a formality can be avoided," he said quietly. "T'Pol and I have been betrothed since childhood. This bond has already been agreed upon."

"Children do not always mature as expected." He was shorter than Koss, but Sobek made it appear as though he were looking down his nose at him. "A telepathic reading before a bonding is traditional. Often waived, but at the couple's peril, in my opinion."

He turned to T'Pol. "Come."

With one last look at Trip, T'Pol followed.

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"You are already mated."

They were kneeling on cushions in her mother's bedroom, across from each other.

Sobek's fingers had slipped from her temples almost immediately after he began the reading.

T'Pol opened her eyes, meeting Sobek's grey-eyed stare.

"I am, but it is undeveloped."

Sobek grunted. "It is enough."

T'Pol's eyes narrowed as she studied his expression. "You already knew."

Sobek nodded. "I could sense it. Your bond with him is very strong."

"But he is human."

"I know."

T'Pol suddenly forgot what she was about to say. She stared at Sobek in disbelief. He stared back at her, his expression emotionless, waiting.

She gathered her thoughts. "So it is possible? For a Vulcan to have a true bond with a human?"

Sobek looked at her as if she were asking a rhetorical question. When she didn't speak, he sighed and his expression changed to one of indulgence.

"Yes, young one. I have never seen such a bond before, but I have read thousands of bonded couples. Your bond with him is equivalent to theirs."

"Equivalent?" In her stunned disbelief, she whispered it.

"I would not have believed it had I not sensed the truth. Humans are not inherently telepathic, correct?"

T'Pol nodded.

"Your bond proves they are possible. I suppose they are also inevitable, given the increased cooperation between our two species. Human-Vulcan bonds deserve further study," he said dispassionately. "Yet the truth remains: it is a true bond."

T'Pol let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, the relief was so profound. "So you will tell Koss I cannot marry him."

Sobek raised both eyebrows. "That is not entirely accurate."

T'Pol's eyes shot to his again as her heart began to pound. "What?"

He met her gaze with steadiness. Truth. "You can marry Koss. But only after you have gone through the ritual cleansing of Kolinahr."

"Kolinahr." T'Pol blinked at him in disbelief. "The purging of all emotion?"

Sobek nodded. "Only through death or Kolinahr can a mating bond be broken."

"I thought those who experienced Kolinahr could be bonded."

"They can, but only after the ritual is completed. If a bond existed before the ritual, it must be renewed afterward."

T'Pol stared at him. What was he implying?

"Kolinahr takes years."

Sobek nodded. "It does."

Silence descended as T'Pol tried to process this revelation. Returning home to find the officiate had been alarming, but as they'd settled here on the floor in her mother's room, hope had kindled. Perhaps he would provide proof of her unsuitability for Koss.

He had provided it beyond her greatest expectations. Sobek had found clear evidence that her bond with Trip was one so strong it could not be dismissed.

And then, just as the hope was turning into joy, Sobek had extinguished it like water on a flame.

"I do not understand," Sobek said after a moment of silence. "Why do you wish to proceed with this marriage to Koss? Why would you sever a strong bond to enter into an unproven one? Without proper care and preparation, Kolinahr can be damaging to a bonded pair. And a bond with a human—there is no way to anticipate what effect it will have on him." Sobek paused, studying her. "It is extremely illogical."

T'Pol looked at him, evaluating. He had been brought here by Kevan and Koss, but every action he had taken suggested he was neutral in their conflict. He did not appear to be influenced by the power they held. She could not be sure, but at this juncture, honesty was the best option.

"The security ministry is investigating my mother for alleged criminal activity. If I marry Koss, the investigation will cease."

Sobek's eyes narrowed. "Is there proof of her alleged crimes?"

"Not as of yet."

Sobek seemed to read between the lines. He regarded her a few moments longer, then stood. "I must report the findings of my reading to the groom's family."

"What will you say?" T'Pol held her breath.

Sobek raised his chin, but the glint in his eye was pure shrewdness. "I will say a mating is possible." He paused. "Then I will leave."

She let out the breath. He was giving her a chance to resolve this her own way.

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"That guy needs a fist in his face worse than anyone I've ever met," Trip muttered, closing the door behind Koss and Kevan with more force than was necessary.

T'Pol was standing just behind him, and to Trip's surprise, he felt her push her amusement toward him through their bond.

"Which one?"

"Huh?"

"Koss or Kevan?"

Trip grunted. "Both of 'em, darlin'. Present company excepted, Vulcan smugness is something I can live the rest of my life without."

"Then what was it you found so amusing?"

He frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"When I first entered the house, you were angry, but you were also amused."

Trip smiled sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. Sorry about that."

She waved a hand in dismissal. "I must admit I am curious."

Trip shrugged. "A human peculiarity, I guess. We sometimes find emotionally charged moments, especially people fightin', entertaining."

"That is strange."

He laughed. "Can't argue with that. My mom used to watch shows like that when I was growin' up. Families angry about somethin', getting' together in front of an audience to hash it out."

"What would happen?"

Smiling, Trip recalled the scenes. "Yelling mostly. Sometimes pushin' and shovin'. Sometimes hair-pulling." He paused. "For a moment there, you coming in the house reminded me of that, and I felt like I was a guest on one of those shows."

"I cannot imagine Koss and Kevan pulling hair."

Trip laughed again. "Neither can I, but the thought of it is pretty funny."

They stepped back into the living space, sitting side by side. T'Pol looked toward the hallway where her mother had just disappeared, only then turning to Trip and taking his hand in hers.

Trip scanned her face. She was calm, much more so than she'd been since they'd arrived on Vulcan. Maybe calmer than he'd seen her in months. But why—that she still had to tell him.

"I know you are confused," she said quietly after he'd looked his fill.

"That's a bit of an understatement," he said with a wry laugh. "When Sobek came back in here and announced you could marry Koss—I was about to grab you and run."

"I was aware," T'Pol said dryly.

And she had been. She'd sent him a wave of love and encouragement so strong that his fear and anger had immediately disappeared. She couldn't tell him everything in that moment, but she had a plan. Of that he was certain.

"So what happened?"

"Sobek confirmed that our bond is true. It's as strong as a Vulcan mating would be."

"You're kiddin'."

"I am not."

Trip couldn't help it—his smile stretched so wide his cheeks began to ache. He raised his palms to her face, cupping her cheeks and kissing her so gently, she melted into him.

"I knew it," he whispered, touching his forehead to hers. "I knew this was the real thing."

"So did I," she whispered back.

He laughed and kissed her again. "You did not."

"I wanted to believe it."

He smiled.

They enjoyed their bond for a few moments before Trip sighed and sat back, dropping his hands from her face.

"I'm guessin' that's not all of it though, huh? Somethin' tells me there's a fly in this honey."

She gave him that look he loved: half-amusement, half-frustration at his descriptive metaphors.

"You are correct."

Trip frowned. "I thought maybe so when Sobek was so matter-of-fact, only to high-tail it out of here not a minute later."

"I have no direct evidence, but I believe he is sympathetic to our situation."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. The fly in the honey, as you said, is real. I can marry Koss. But only after undergoing Kolinahr."

At Trip's questioning expression, T'Pol explained the arduous ritual.

Trip sucked in a breath. "You think Koss would demand that?"

T'Pol looked down at their hands. "I'm not certain. But I believe that this evidence will convince my mother to join our cause."

"She'd have to leave Vulcan if Koss and his family are stubborn about it."

T'Pol nodded. "But the truth is that the balance of power has changed. We are no longer fighting empty-handed. And with my mother as our ally—"

She stopped, and her eyes shone with a hope he'd never seen before.

Trip smiled. "Go on, then." He let go of her hands and stood.

She did too, but she hesitated for just a moment before gripping his shoulders and pushing up to her toes, kissing him once.

"Wait for me."

Trip smiled back. "Always."

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T'Pol found her mother in the courtyard. She walked to her, standing beside her in silence.

"I was waiting for you."

T'Les did not look at her. She was standing at the edge of the yard, looking at the majesty of the view beyond. The sun was setting, the sky turning a fiery blend of yellow, orange, red, purple, and blue.

"You may ask whatever you wish," T'Pol said. It was the truth. Today's revelations had settled a blanket of hopeful calm across her heart. That fear that had so consumed her—it was disappearing with every passing moment.

The last barrier stood in front of her now.

T'Les looked at her. "You are bonded to Mr. Tucker."

T'Pol met her gaze unflinchingly. "I am."

T'Les turned back to the sunset. "I suspected as much."

"You did not say so."

A sound of frustration met T'Pol's comment. "I was waiting for you to tell me yourself."

"Why? I thought you wished to convince me to marry Koss."

"I did, at first."

"What changed?"

"I observed your interactions with Mr. Tucker. I spoke with him myself. His regard for you—his deep respect for you—was obvious."

T'Les fell silent. Stars were beginning to sparkle above them as the sun touched the horizon, lighting a trail of fire along the mountain ridge in the distance.

A few moments of silence passed before T'Les spoke again. "How did it begin?"

T'Pol hesitated. "We have always been attracted to one another," she finally said. "Since our first encounter, our exchanges were intriguing."

"How so?"

"We disagreed. Frequently. Sometimes intensely. But each time, it was—exhilarating."

To T'Pol's surprise, T'Les' face softened. "Your father and I had a similar relationship."

"You did?"

"Yes, especially in the beginning. We both had very strong, often conflicting beliefs about life and our work."

"I never realized."

"We had resolved most of our conflicts by the time you were born. By then, our bond was strong. Unshakeable, in fact." She paused. "And then? I assume you did not arrive at this point merely because you enjoyed arguing with each other."

"No," T'Pol said, her heartbeat increasing. This was the moment of truth. The decision she had made just this afternoon, but one she felt deeply was the right one. "There was a catalyst."

She stopped, gathering her thoughts. "I would ask that you listen to all the facts before you give your opinion."

T'Les' head turned sharply and she regarded T'Pol intensely. She did not comment, but after only a brief hesitation, she nodded her agreement.

T'Pol gestured to the chairs nearby, and they sat together, the setting sun highlighting one side of her mother's face.

"Early in our mission into the expanse, we encountered the Vulcan vessel Seleya."

T'Les raised an eyebrow. "Your former posting?"

T'Pol nodded. "The Seleya had been in the expanse almost a year before we discovered them. The crew had lined the ship's hull with a substance called trellium. It is an ore that was the only proven method for protecting against the spatial anomalies that spread across the expanse."

T'Les was listening intently.

"The crew did not know, and we later discovered, that trellium is toxic to Vulcans. In the early stages of exposure, trellium degrades our neural pathways, negating our ability to suppress emotion. In the later stages, it is lethal."

Her mother's eyes widened, connecting the dots. "You were exposed."

T'Pol nodded. "I was. The experience was terrifying. I was accessing emotions I had been suppressing for almost my entire life. I tried to control them, but the strength of the trellium exposure was too intense. I became by turns agitated, contentious, hallucinatory, and finally violent and delirious."

T'Les shifted in her seat, moving her hands. Every muscle in her body seemed tense.

"The damage was temporary," T'Pol reassured her, and T'Les relaxed. "When I was in sickbay recovering, something unexpected happened. Just hours before the last of the effects wore off, the emotions became manageable."

T'Pol stopped, staring over her mother's shoulder at nothing, lost in the memory. "At that time, Commander Tucker came into sickbay to ask the doctor for an update on my condition. We didn't speak. I was behind a privacy curtain, half-asleep, and he spoke with Phlox. But the moment I heard his voice, I began dreaming of him. The dream was vivid, intense, more vibrant than any I'd had before. In that dream, I experienced a surge of emotions so strong I was overcome by them."

She paused, lost in the memory of those heady emotions. "When I awoke, the emotions remained heightened. Unlike what I'd encountered on the Seleya, however, these emotions were euphoric. I realized then that my attraction to him was not superficial. It was deep. Meaningful."

She met her mother's eyes again. "And when the rest of the trellium left my system, the echoes of that feeling remained."

T'Les nodded, tilting her head as she looked at T'Pol, understanding in her eyes. "You wanted to experience them again."

"I did," T'Pol whispered. She cleared her throat, finding her voice again. "As much as I tried to elicit those emotions again on my own, I couldn't. I became obsessed with retrieving them. And with the stress of the mission, I convinced myself that ingesting small amounts of trellium would be relatively harmless."

T'Les sucked in a sharp breath.

T'Pol lifted her chin. "I know now that my logic was faulty. At the time, I had concluded that all medicines are toxic if taken in large enough doses. Small doses can be therapeutic. Healing. Trellium should be no different."

Her mother's eyes were pinned to her face, and T'Pol watched her mother struggle, dismay surging despite T'Les' efforts to suppress it.

"The details of what happened over the next several months are not important. Suffice it to say that I became dependent on trellium, but it also simultaneously allowed me to improve my connection with the crew, and most notably, Trip. Our relationship became intimate. And in the following weeks, although we were together only once, we discovered we had bonded."

"You did not expect it?" T'Les seemed surprised.

"Would you have?" T'Pol countered. "Humans are not inherently telepathic."

"So you wrongfully assumed that such a bond would be impossible with a human."

T'Pol nodded. "I was unaware at first, and later I denied its possibility. But I discovered to my detriment that a weak bond can be destructive. At the same time, I was also experiencing neural damage from the repeated use of trellium. My emotions were unpredictable. Every stress we faced in the expanse only exacerbated my condition."

"And your bond with Trip alleviated them."

"Yes, although it took me some time to allow his help. I fought it, but when I finally admitted that I needed help with my addiction, the damage was done. My withdrawal symptoms were severe. Only Trip could help me counteract them."

T'Les regarded her for a moment in silence. Finally, she said, "It is good that you told me. I understand now why marrying Koss was such anathema to you."

"Even without Trip, I would have resisted a marriage to Koss."

T'Les narrowed her eyes. "In any other circumstances, I would have supported your refusal to marry him." She paused. "Sobek's reaction surprised me. He sensed your bond, undoubtedly."

"He did."

"Then why did he say you could marry Koss?"

T'Pol explained about the need to go through Kolinahr. After she was finished, she met her mother's gaze unflinchingly.

"Being bonded to Trip has been a transformative experience. I would like nothing more than to spend the entirety of my life with him," T'Pol said, her voice quiet. She felt like she had opened her soul to her mother, a privilege she'd never allowed before. "But you are my mother. Your life, your reputation, are important as well."

"You need not concern yourself with my reputation. Even if you were to marry Koss, I would not return to the science academy."

T'Pol did not hide her surprise. "Why not?"

"I have been unfulfilled there for some time. It was a necessary distraction after your father died, and I took pride in my work. But since you left and began your service with Starfleet, I have been increasingly dissatisfied."

T'Pol did not know what to say.

"I can see you are surprised. It is not uncommon for those of my age to look for a different source of contentment than our work. I have been spending more time studying and meditating of late. It has been enlightening."

T'Pol examined her mother's face, seeing for the first time the strain in her eyes, the tiredness at the edges. "You have not meditated much while I have been here."

T'Les nodded. "It has been a difficult week. Meeting your counterpart has been unsettling."

"You have not enjoyed your time with her?" T'Pol did not know how to process that information.

"I did not say that," T'Les countered. "But discovering an elderly version of my daughter, one who has wisdom beyond her own mother, is disconcerting."

T'Pol let herself relax. "She is forthright."

"You speak the truth," T'Les said wryly. "I am pleased to have met her. But the fact remains that her appearance has made me reevaluate many of my long-held beliefs. I had already been questioning the foundations of Vulcan logic, at least as we have been taught them. I had been considering spending some time in a monastery in order to study the ancient writings and perhaps discover what it truly means to be Vulcan."

T'Pol regarded her seriously, feeling as though she was seeing her mother truthfully for the first time.

"There was another unexpected outcome to my time with your counterpart."

"What was that?"

"She told me much about her marriage to Mr. Tucker and about her motherhood to Lorian."

T'Pol's eyes widened. "So you already knew about my addiction, even before I told you?"

T'Les shook her head. "No, I did not. T'Pol would not explain how their relationship began. She said that it was your story to tell. But she told me in no uncertain terms that her relationship with Commander Tucker had been her greatest accomplishment. That echoes of that bond were all that kept her alive when he was gone."

T'Les stopped, her eyes suddenly so full of emotion that T'Pol held her breath. She watched, mesmerized, as her mother closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and opened them again. The emotion was gone.

Such control. Something T'Pol envied and feared she could never experience again.

"What she said resonated with me," T'Les continued. "Losing your father has been the greatest test of my adult life. I, too, feel as though the echoes of my bond with him have aided me in maintaining balance." She raised a hand to her chest, holding it there as if recalling the feel of him beside her, connected to her. Her eyes became unfocused, remembering.

After a few minutes, she gathered herself and looked again at T'Pol.

"The same is true for you, my daughter. Mr. Tucker is your true, bonded mate." The determination on T'Les' face was startling. "A bond between mates supersedes all. Even loyalty to one's parents."

"But Koss, Kevan—"

"Even in the face of accusations such as these." T'Les lifted her chin, and in that gesture, T'Pol was reminded of why her mother had risen so quickly in the science academy. Once she'd taken a stand, her ability to achieve the goal she'd set was impressive.

"Kevan will support Koss only so far as Koss can benefit him. If you can only bond with him after experiencing Kolinahr, Kevan will realize that Koss' use to him is negligible. His support will wane."

T'Pol wasn't so sure. "That may not be enough. Koss could insist that I marry him, then send me to a monastery until my emotions have been fully purged." She paused. "Assuming that's even possible, given my neural damage."

"You're saying that to him, the bond is not as important as the marriage alliance."

T'Pol nodded. "Evidence of my bond with Trip may not be enough for him to give up entirely. The outcome must not only be the dissolution of the betrothal but also the cessation of the investigation against you."

"I could leave Vulcan."

"You could," T'Pol agreed. "But I hope that with this new evidence, that will not be necessary. We have to find a way to use it to our advantage."

"It may be enough," T'Les said. She stood, straightening her spine. The fading light cast a dark shadow across her face, and T'Pol had never seen her mother look so imposing.

"And even if it is not, I have a plan."

.

.

Trip looked at himself in the mirror in the bedroom, trying to figure out how to fasten the top of this suit coat he'd been urged into. The fastener was tricky and he was struggling to close it.

Finally giving up, he stepped back, taking in the whole of his appearance. He gave his reflection a wry smile, letting it bloom into a grin.

This was certainly a departure from his usual style.

It was purple, for one thing. Not a color he'd worn much in his life. His high school colors had been purple and gold, so he'd worn a fair bit then. But other than that, he preferred almost anything else.

Well, maybe not pink.

He smoothed his hands down his front, straightening the lay of the coat against his body. The design was simple. The wide shoulders gave him an imposing stature, and his brushed-back blonde hair glinted in the overhead light.

Despite the alien look of the suit, he thought he cleaned up pretty well.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

T'Les opened the door and strode in, looking at him up and down. "These clothes belonged to my late husband. They fit you well," she said.

Trip bowed his head to her once, and her eyes moved to his neck where the collar remained unfastened. She moved to stand in front of him, reaching up to finish the work.

"You are prepared?" she asked him when she had finished. "The timing is important. If you don't delay—" she stopped.

Trip bowed his head again. "I'm ready. I know what's at stake."

"Very well. You must be convincing."

At that, he smiled. "Oh, I think I can be. I have a dramatic side."

Her eyes glinted with amusement. "Of that, I have no doubt."

Trip laughed.

The last twelve hours had been a revelation. T'Les had been polite to him, even indulgent, in his stay here so far. But since T'Pol had spoken with her, T'Les had become almost warm. She'd bantered with him more than once, her sharp wit making her a stimulating conversation partner.

No wonder T'Pol was so good at it. She came by it naturally.

Last night, T'Les and T'Pol had returned to the house, their faces set in nearly identical expressions of determination. They'd shared their plan with him, and Trip had grinned again, excited to put it in motion.

Which brought them to now, and him in this Vulcan monkey suit. Trip pulled again at his stiff collar.

"Have you told her?"

He stopped, looking at T'Les in surprise.

"Told her what?"

"What you plan to do when all this is over."

Trip smiled. "Kinda hard to hide things from my Vulcan almost-wife."

"Still," T'Les continued. "It's important that she hears the words spoken."

Trip turned serious. "She will. I promise."

T'Les nodded. "Very well. Koss and his family will be arriving soon."

"Yes, ma'am."

She left, and Trip took a last look at his appearance, going over the plan in his mind.

It was genius, really. He grinned. Koss wouldn't know what hit him.

.

.

T'Pol stepped out from her bedroom, the floor length gown feeling strange as it swirled around her feet. She almost hadn't worn one, nearly opting instead for her usual attire as another act of rebellion against Koss.

But the plan required at least an initial outward appearance of compliance.

She stepped into the living room.

They were all there—Koss, Kevan, Sobek, her mother, Trip—and a small group of Koss's family.

"I am pleased you have seen the logic in our joining."

T'Pol did not dignify that with an answer. She merely stared at him, pinning him with a gaze so censorious that he could not hold it for long. He looked away.

"Before we begin," T'Les said, looking to Kevan, "I believe Sobek has additional information to share about the ceremony."

Sobek nodded. "I stated yesterday that a joining between Koss and T'Pol was possible. I did not, however, share that T'Pol must undergo Kolinahr before a full bonding can commence."

"What?" It was Kevan who spoke. "For what reason?"

"She is already fully bonded to another." Sobek gestured to Trip. "Her bond with this human must be severed before she can enter into another with Koss."

Kevan turned to Koss. "You said there would be no complications."

Koss was staring at Trip with a look of disdain. "This is no complication. Humans are not telepathic. Their bond must be weak." He addressed Sobek. "We will proceed with the ceremony today as planned. T'Pol can return once she has completed Kolinahr, and we will fullfill our vows then."

"Not if I have something to say about it."

It was Trip who had spoken. He stepped forward, and T'Pol held her breath. Trip was an earnest individual, but she had seen him act before. He was prone to overacting. In this crucial moment, if he pushed too far—

She stepped forward. "Commander—"

Trip held up a hand toward her. "No. I hear there's somethin' called the Kal-if-ee. I wanna challenge him."

Koss made a sound of derision. "That is a fight to the death, Commander Tucker. You are ill-equipped to win a battle of strength with a Vulcan male."

"Try me," he said, voice like gravel. He stepped toe-to-toe with Koss, their noses inches apart. "She's my woman, not yours."

Across the room, T'Pol clenched her teeth. You are overdoing it, my love.

Trip's amusement surrounded her. He was relishing this. I know. But damn, this is fun. Is it time yet?

T'Pol looked toward the door. Not yet.

Koss was looking at Trip as if he were an insect not worthy of his notice. He turned to Kevan. "This is ridiculous. I cannot be expected to consider this challenge seriously."

Kevan looked at Sobek, who spoke in answer. "It is a valid challenge."

"Fantastic," Trip said with pleasure.

He reached up to his too-tight collar and snapped open the clasp, unbuttoning his way down. When he reached the bottom, he shrugged it off and threw it dramatically on the floor, his biceps flexing in his sleeveless undershirt as he opened and closed his fists.

He punched one fist into the other palm. "Where we doin' this?"

Koss stared at him in disbelief. "This is preposterous." He turned to T'Pol. "Seeing him die will not stop the inevitable. You will marry me."

"Will she?"

The voice came from the door, and everyone turned. At first, there was silence. Then, as recognition dawned, murmurs began to ripple through the small crowd.

In the doorway stood older T'Pol, clad in a dress identical to younger T'Pol's, clutching Lorian's arm. Her eyes glinted with amusement.

She turned to her childhood fiancée. "Hello, Koss."

Koss seemed to have forgotten how to blink. He turned to young T'Pol, then T'Les, then back to older T'Pol. "You—this is impossible."

He sank down on the chair behind him.

"Who are you?" Kevan demanded.

"I am T'Pol," she announced. "Mother? Would you kindly explain? I believe I must sit."

As Lorian led his mother over to the seating area, T'Les enlightened them, explaining the unusual circumstances.

After she was finished, Sobek looked between the counterparts. "You are genetically identical?"

"We are," older T'Pol said. "We are versions of the same person. Our origins are the same."

"Fascinating," Sobek said. He turned to Kevan. "I am sure you recognize the solution."

Kevan's eyes narrowed, and he pinned T'Les with a sharp stare before turning back to Sobek.

"I do."

"Will you challenge it?"

"What are you talking about?" Koss interrupted.

"No," Kevan said shortly.

Sobek nodded calmly, turning to Koss. "Then there is a logical choice that will allow you to marry and bond immediately."

"Logical choice?"

"You will marry me," older T'Pol said. "I am unbonded. And if I understand Vulcan law correctly, we are still betrothed. A kal-if-ee is not necessary."

Koss stared at her, blinking in disbelief before rising to his feet again. "This is unacceptable."

Kevan was still staring at older T'Pol, his expression enigmatic. Fraught silence fell as he turned to his nephew. "Sobek and T'Pol are correct. The logical course of action is to marry the unbonded T'Pol."

"But—"

Kevan raised an eyebrow in question. "Are you becoming emotional? An alliance with this family is still possible. You will gain the same benefits from this bonding as you would from that one, except of course, for children."

T'Pol looked on in fascination. Kevan, ever the shrewd politician, had realized that his nephew was no longer the source of power he'd thought he was. And as a result, he was cutting ties as quickly and efficiently as possible.

"He would have a child," Lorian announced. "I would be adopted into his family upon the marriage."

"Very well, then," Kevan said. He waited. "Your answer?"

Koss glowered at him for a moment longer, the muscles in his jaw twitching, before finally responding. "I will find a different mate."

Kevan nodded once. He turned to Sobek. "I apologize for engaging your services unnecessarily."

Sobek inclined his head. "Apologies are not necessary."

Kevan looked at T'Pol, then Trip, and acknowledged the inevitable with a nod. "Come," he said to his family, and within minutes, the room had emptied of all of the groom's family.

Kevan was the last one out. T'Les had followed him to the door, and before he left, he turned to her.

"It is unfortunate that our families will not have the benefit of a marriage alliance," he said insincerely. He started out the door, but paused one last time. "Oh. I also meant to inform you that the investigation into the data loss has concluded. My team has determined that it was a computer error."

"A plausible explanation," T'Les said dryly. "I appreciate you notifying me so quickly."

"Of course," Kevan said, and left.

T'Les turned and stepped back into the room. Trip was picking up his coat and putting it back on, and T'Pol felt a spark of disappointment as he covered his arms again. She could not ignore that Trip was a beautiful man.

"Remind me never to strategize against you," Trip said wryly to T'Les. "You have a gift."

"It was the only—"

"—logical solution," Trip interrupted with a smile. "I know."

T'Les gave him an irritated yet indulgent stare, and T'Pol was amused as she realized how similar it was to her own.

T'Les addressed Trip. "I was going to say, it was the only option that solved all problems at once."

"I agree with Trip, Mother," older T'Pol said. "You do have a gift for strategy. Perhaps you wish to pursue an opportunity with Starfleet?"

Trip laughed. "What I wouldn't give to see Ambassador Soval's face if we announced that."

T'Les took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, ignoring her older daughter's teasing. After a brief moment, she turned again to Trip. "I believe you have one additional task to complete today."

Trip smiled, but this time, it was a smile of joy. T'Pol felt her breath leave her as he came to stand in front of her, taking her hands in his.

He looked into her eyes, but he didn't address her.

"Mr. Sobek, are you still willin' to perform a wedding today?"

Sobek, standing nearby, nodded. "It is the purpose to which I have been called," he said formally. "I would be pleased to fulfill it."

"So what do you say, darlin'?" Trip said softly. "Will you marry me?"

T'Pol ran her eyes over his face, taking in each of his familiar, beloved features, and felt that joy inside her spark once again. In their minds, she pushed her energy against his until they melted together as one.

"I would be honored to be your wife."

Sobek led them outside to the entrance courtyard. He gestured to the cushions on the ground and they knelt across from each other.

Around them, their family gathered. T'Les looked on, her face serene. Lorian smiled brightly. And the older T'Pol, gripping his arm, looked on with misty but loving eyes, seeing another long-ago ceremony superimposed on this one.

T'Pol raised her hand, index finger and middle finger pointing straight together toward her mate. Trip did the same, their fingers touching.

In her mind, their blended energies brightened, pulsing.

"What ye are about to witness comes from the time of the beginning, without change." Sobek said, his voice resonant. "This is the Vulcan heart."

Trip smiled. I love you, darlin'.

"This is the Vulcan soul."

My soul is at peace with you, my love, T'Pol answered.

"This is our way."

And they would find that way. T'Pol knew this with a certainty so profound it felt imprinted on her mind. Guided by the deep love they shared and the unbreakable bond that joined them, she and Trip would find their way through an imperfect life.

Together.

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.

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A/N: I can't believe we made it! Thank you to everyone who stuck it out through almost 90,000 words and the crazy journey along the way. Your comments and support were so encouraging! I don't usually write sequels, but maybe if I get a good idea I'll tack on an epilogue someday.

I do have an idea for another TnT story not set in this story's universe, so you probably haven't seen the last of me. :) Thanks again for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites. Y'all are the best!