A/N: I hope I have T'Pol's age right. I figure I'm within a year. Thanks for being so patient. Yes, the other fics are coming.

- One year later -

Tugging at the stiff material of the admiral's blue collar, he walked into the party and immediately snatched a glass of wine that was floating nearby on a tray. Archer brought the red liquid to his lips and sucked in the taste hoping to melt the troubles of the day away. The troubles: more reports of marauders – including proven involvement from the Orions. It would need some negotiations and deliberation and one of the most prestigious ambassadors, someone who'd been leading the council for the past three years, was retiring … at least from Earth.

Ambassador Soval.

Barely able hear the classical music, played by a string quartet over the light buzz of people chatting through the large white marble hall, he sneaked into a corner and watched the events from the shadows.

A woman with long, dark hair and a red strappy dress walked near him and for a minute, he took his glass away from his mouth.

"Hoshi." He smiled.

"I almost didn't expect you to show," she said. "I know you hate goodbyes."

Archer raised his eyebrows and countered her argument. "I wouldn't miss Soval's retirement. Besides, I've been asked to say a few words."

His eyes caught the man – gray hair and a little slowed with age, but not overly so. Soval was making the rounds and saying his goodbyes to various diplomats and aids.

"I think we're all going to miss him," she said. Her eyes landed on the same figure.

Archer sipped his wine and remained in quiet agreement.

"Ever think you would? I mean … no offense, sir, but I remember a time when you couldn't stand him."

Grinning, he agreed. "Well, I can remember a time when I couldn't stand T'Pol, too."

"Things change."

"So do people."

"Speaking of, where is she?" Hoshi asked. "I kind of expected her to be here."

Archer looked into his glass. "I still haven't heard from her."

"Did you ask Soval about her?"

"Recently?" he asked.

He'd asked Soval about her from time-to-time for the past year, but the Vulcan seemed just as in the dark about what was happening with her. She was incommunicado. Apparently the only thing Soval knew was: she'd entered the monastery at P'Jem (something Archer found ironic) for the Kolinahr; Soval didn't know how long it would last and hadn't indicated she'd left.

"Jon," Hoshi whispered.

He awoke from his daze.

"Soval would tell me if he'd heard from her," he said.

She sipped at the glass in her hand. "Yeah, I guess so. Hey, did you hear Malcolm got promoted?"

Archer grinned. "Captain?"

She nodded. "Don't tell him that I let you know. He's been wanting to tell you himself." Pointing to the man, who was eating appetizers next to Phlox and waxing philosophic about security protocols in Starfleet, she smiled. "He's practically glowing."

"How do you know he's been promoted? I don't see the pips on his uniform."

"Uhmmm, I hear things."

"I see." He raised both eyebrows and his eyes twinkled.

"I am in the communications department you know."

"Yes."

"I mean, I'm privy to all kinds of information."

"No doubt."

"All kinds."

"Sure."

"Lots of information," she said.

Quietly he added a few words. "So am I."

Her eyes darted over to his and his closed mouth became toothy.

"You better get that smug look off your face," she said.

"Not a chance." He beamed under her frown. "The cat's already out of the bag."

Frowning, she stared at him.

"Apparently Admiral Duval's niece is your student for Vulcan 101."

Her eyes narrowed into slits.

As he was about to tease her further, Gardner tapped a wine glass at the front of the room and the string quartet and chatter died down.

"Thank you for coming this evening. We're here tonight to say goodbye to a legend in these halls. Ambassador Soval. It's been a pleasure and privilege to work with him. He's been on Earth for more than sixty years – helping us to forge a deep and meaningful friendship with his people. He's been instrumental in the Federation, serving as its president. It's tonight that we honor this man, and his accomplishments. To Ambassador Soval."

Archer sighed, with pride and reflection at having known the man almost his entire life, and drank. This was the end of an era – in part, the era of his father.

"I've asked someone to say something. Jonathan?" Gardner asked.

Archer straightened up and headed to the front. Looking down at the PADD he'd recovered from his front pocket he sighed and stuffed it back in, deciding to wing it.

"Soval wasn't the first Vulcan on Earth, but he's certainly been here the longest. Striking a balance between non-interference and guidance, they helped us into a universe where we're not only explorers, but we're negotiators, peacemakers and guardians. And he understand's the human spirit – humor, the sacrifice one makes for a friend and loss. I've known Soval almost all my life. I … no, we all … will miss him greatly. Our loss is T'Pau's gain. Live long and prosper, Soval."

A round of "hear, hear" filled the ballroom. Everyone took a sip and Soval opened his mouth.

"I am honored. And … touched. I thank you for coming, though … I understand it is customary to hold these gatherings, despite how one feels about the recipient."

Laughter broke out as the ambassador looked on the throngs gathered for him. Stoically, he clasped his hands behind his back and sullied forth.

"I have served Vulcan as ambassador to Earth in human years, 'a long time.' During that time, I have come to … appreciate your planet, your customs and your people. I look over the faces tonight, and I remember our first meetings."

The Vulcan flattened his lips for a moment and then continued. "It was a difficult decision. Although Minister T'Pau has asked me to serve as part of the High Command with her, she had to offer the position more than once to sway me. That is the depth of the … feeling I have for you. Peace and long life to you all."

Applause and "awwws" filled the ballroom. And when that died down the party kicked back up – the classical music played, people made a beeline for Soval and a few headed back to the appetizer table.

"Admiral," Soval said to Archer.

Reed walked up to stand behind guest of honor and beamed.

"Ambassador." Dropping the formality, Jon shook his head. "Soval, I'm not sure what to say."

"I am appreciative that we have been able to talk more regularly for the past year."

"Same here. I still don't understand why you accepted T'Pau's assignment."

"Change is the logical progression of life. My time on Earth has come to an end."

Hoshi said, "I hear you turned down a teaching post at Starfleet."

Soval poked an eyebrow up. "Serving Vulcan is what I have spent a lifetime doing, despite appreciating the culture and the climate here. That and … my youngest child is going to deliver offspring soon."

Archer smiled. "You're retiring for grandchildren?"

"I feel a sense of … dismay for having missed their births. I am too old to miss another. And it is incumbent upon me to pass my knowledge onto the youth of Vulcan. T'Pau is too transfixed in the old ways to do so alone."

For a moment, it looked like he'd smiled.

Hoshi shook her head. "You still have time. Vulcans live up to 200 years."

His kindly eyes accepted her words. "That is a long time, even for us."

Reed leaned in, breaking the awkward silence. "Do you know anything about the person that will take your place?"

"That is still being arranged."

"Any candidates rise to the top?" Reed asked.

Soval drew his lips into a flat line. "It is a difficult decision."

"I can scarcely imagine anyone would live up to your achievement. Ambassador to Earth. Ambassador representing Vulcan at the Federation. Your record speaks for itself, sir," Reed said.

Soval stood taller than Archer had ever remembered. "It has been my greatest achievement … to live on Earth."

Reed inadvertently put his arm around Hoshi who cuddled into his shoulder. Archer gave a half-smile, trying not to look too pleased.

"I'll just be sorry to miss chess games," Archer said. The smile that overtook his face was difficult to hide, despite trying.

Soval leaned in and said a few words that blew the admiral away. "Your father would have been proud."

Phlox joined them, and the four talked for another hour or so, until the ambassador excused himself to say his goodbyes to the others. With that, Hoshi and Reed left and finally Phlox and one of his wives left as well. Archer stayed until late, watching someone who he would've considered a nemesis at some points in his life with awe. In less than three days, he'd be gone.

It was the end of an era.

It was only 0700, but Archer had already had three cups of coffee, a habit for days that began before 0600. His aid, Lt. Diane Travers, was in the process of briefing him via the intercom of his schedule – everything he had to do between now and 2400 when he usually headed home. Pacing around his small office, wearing a pattern on the blue carpet by winding his way around a wooden desk and a chair with rollers on the bottom, she sharpened her tone and he stood still. As she was reeling off a list, including meetings (with staff, dignitaries Federation council and Gardner), lunch appointments and a report that was already overdue, he noted each event to himself with dissatisfaction. He'd be running from one engagement to another, sometimes in other buildings. It was just like nearly any other day, despite the growing tension with the Orions.

"That's all, sir."

That's all? He'd be lucky if he actually left at 2400.

"Diane, it seems like I won't be able to attend the dinner tomorrow night. I'd like you to--"

The aid interrupted. "You're looking for an excuse aren't you?"

"No, of course not. I just had something come up that I--"

A cranky female voice answered. "It's Matt's birthday. Are you telling me you want to get out of your bosses birthday gala?"

Archer stared at the comm. "He'll have another one next year."

"And I'm sure you'll want me to get you out of that one, too. No, sir. You're going."

"Lieutenant Travers--"

"I have to be there, so do you."

"Well, tell ya what. You find an excuse and--"

"Admiral, you're going."

Just as his mouth hung open to answer the tiny metal box in front of him, he realized that she turned off the device in protest. When his body swung toward the door to chastise her, he acknowledged - not aloud of course - that she was probably right.

"Aids," he grumbled to himself.

With a sigh, he sat down and looked through his calendar, wondering if there was a way he could get himself out of the stiff-ass, dress uniform event where he'd be expected to glad hand a bunch of politicians and diplomats.

Matt was a nice guy … even a good boss, and he'd want to be there to wish him well. The problem was: Soval's retirement party was only a few nights ago.

The two had started their relationship on shaky ground – on first meeting, a young Jonny Archer had stuck out his hand and announced his name and instead of taking it and exchanging an introduction, the Vulcan looked at his father with disdain.

And yet, they were now friends. The two had been meeting for the past year for lunch almost every day, played chess together sometimes after work and talked about the future of human and Vulcan relations. The ambassador must've considered him a friend as well, too; he'd debrief him on events that happened behind the closed door of the council. He'd give him information about Vulcan and how T'Pau was concerned about a growing threat to the universe: the Romulans. The only thing Soval wouldn't talk about was T'Pol; he didn't know any information anyway.

T'Pol.

Maybe one of the reasons he'd kept in such close contact with Soval was: he was the link to T'Pol and his father. He hadn't heard from his previous first officer for almost a year …. His last communication with her, when she returned to Vulcan, was the day before she entered the Kolinahr ritual, and during their discussion she admitted a hypothesis: she'd be in the Kolinahr for most likely ten years to rid her of emotions that plagued her.

Ten years.

As his thoughts traveled to his old friends, he heard the door squeak open. Starfleet insisted on the kind of old wooden doors that added a sense of occasion to the offices.

"Yes," he said. His eyes looked up at his assistant. 'What do you want, Diane?"

A 65-year old, tough as nails assistant with short gray hair and piercing blue eyes met him.

"Admiral, you're going to be late for your appointment with the new Vulcan ambassador."

He shrugged. Gathering a PADD in his hand, he recalled the name: T'Lin. He'd never heard of her, and didn't care.

She placed her hands on her hips. "Matt's not going to be happy."

Archer frowned. Giving a glare to his aid, as if he wasn't doing this to make her happy, he reached for his PADD. Once he did, she smiled.

"You can stop looking so pleased with yourself," he said. "I'm going to this too, I suppose."

Producing a toothy grin, she agreed. "Yes, sir."

With that, he headed out the door and down the hall to Gardner's office. The room was much larger than his, held a large seal behind his desk – making him look more official – and had newer carpeting. The joke at Starfleet was: the higher in the chain of command you are, the better the carpeting.

"Where is everyone?" Archer asked. He'd planned on dawdling just enough to be barely on time.

"Jon, sit down," Matt said. The man's lips sloped up. "I only asked you to come."

Dignitaries were usually greeted with phony baloney formality, even for the Vulcans, including a band or choir, a ceremonial handshake from Prime Minister Dean (who'd make a special trip) and a photo opportunity right before some sort of social event that night or the next day. This Vulcan was "coming under the radar."

He nodded, furrowing his brow. "You seem in a good mood, sir."

"I am," Gardner said.

"So, why just me?" Jon asked.

"I wanted you to see her first."

"You meet her?"

"Yes, I have."

"Well?"

"Hard to describe really."

Archer snorted. "No one can fill Soval's shoes. No one."

"It'll take some time."

Looking down at his watch, he noted that this T'Lin was a little late. "I read in the report she's under eighty."

"Yeah, she's seventy three."

"They're sending us a kid."

"Didn't you tell me once that seventy is like being in your mid thirties?"

He ignored the question. "Hardly seems like enough time to really understand the finer points. The report didn't say what kind of experience she has."

"No, it didn't. But, I think she'll be qualified. I doubt Minister T'Pau would provide someone who wasn't."

"Soval was over one hundred and sixty. Did you know that more than sixty of those years were spent on Earth understanding our culture?"

Matt grinned. "Yes, you said so at his retirement to me … several times."

"Soval understood our culture. He got the nuance of jokes and emotions."

"Yes, he did."

"I'm sure this … T'Lin … is going to need a lot of council on human customs and rituals, not to mention the nuance of jokes and emotions. As the admiral assigned to that area, I know I'll be the one debriefing her."

"I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see."

"I bet Minister T'Pau sent us some stiff Vulcan woman who'd rather--"

A voice behind questioned. "Rather what?"

Standing quickly, he snapped to attention. Walking directly in front of him, two large brown eyes stared up at him with bemusement.

"Rather what, Jonathan?"

A smile broke out over his face as he stared at the woman he never expected to see: T'Pol. Swinging his arms around her, he hugged her to his chest – a crushing grip – as he swayed slightly back and forth. Each gentle rock caused him to chuckle and he pressed his cheek against hers.

Matt laughed in the background.

"You're an easy mark, Jon," he said.

Rubbing her shoulders with his hands, Archer continued to beam at her. "You're T'Lin?"

"The ruse -- it was Admiral Gardner's idea."

"Did Soval know?"

"He was privy to the … omission of the truth only a few days ago."

"Why just a few days?"

"I had not made a decision until then."

He chuckled a little more and opened his mouth. Instead, he gave her another bear hug.

"You took the job three days ago?"

"Yes."

Her eyes scanned Gardner as if hesitant to reveal more. Archer understood immediately and nodded.

"Well, I'm glad you did."

Gardner coughed. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind showing her around."

Archer recalled the formalities. "I thought you'd want to introduce her to the rest of the staff."

"We're doing that tomorrow – 1900 hours."

"Your birthday party?"

"You're so easy, Jon. The event is for T'Pol. My birthday's was three months ago."

He furrowed his brow, trying to remember the party. "Diane?"

"You forgot I knew her long before you did. Damn … just too easy," Matt said. He walked them to the door, slapped Archer on the shoulder and then headed back to his desk.

For the first time he looked at her, really looked at her. Her auburn hair – it was still highlighted as if she'd fussed over it – hung around her shoulders. The robes she wore were an earthy green and sparkled against her skin. Uncommon to other Vulcans, she wore lipstick and rouge just as she had on Enterprise. And yet this time, something about her eyes seemed to miss the twinkle they usually held.

"God, it's good to see you," he said.

He walked with her down the corridor back to his office. As he passed Lt. Travers desk, he scowled which made her glow triumphantly. Ignoring her, he led T'Pol to a seat in his office and closed the door.

"You look great," he said. The comment hung on his tongue and he corrected himself. "I mean … you look well-rested and … happy. You completed the Kolinahr?"

Nudging the collar of her robe, she shook her head. "No."

He sat in the chair next to her, rather than at his desk and folded his leg over his knee.

"I … did not complete the ritual."

He remained silent.

"There's a different path for me."

At his raised eyebrows she continued. "At least that's what T'Pau told me."

Waiting still, he noticed she leaned forward. "I know humans. I understand them. T'Pau asked me to be her ambassador to Vulcan here for Earth."

"Three days ago?"

She disagreed. "No, a year ago. When I came to Vulcan. Soval had agreed to accepting a position on Vulcan."

"He said something about being close to his grandchildren?"

"Yes. I think he can do great things on Vulcan."

"Why did you wait a year to give your approval?"

"It … took some time to consider."

"And it took you two days agree and get here?"

She hesitated. "I'd packed a week ago. I informed T'Pau of my decision recently."

He smiled. "I'm glad you did."

"I see you accepted a position as admiral."

"T'Pau told you?"

"Yes. I asked about you, Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis and Phlox."

A name felt like it should've been called and to honor it, he looked down at his feet. "The reason I accepted the promotion was …. Your words … I thought you were right."

"I was and am."

"So, we'll be working together quite a bit. I'm the admiral assigned to deep space travel, including planets like Vulcan, Andoria, Tellar …."

"I know."

He smiled more.

"Do you need any tea?"

"No."

Archer stood, and she followed in suit. "Lemme show you around."

"You don't have other appointments?"

Shrugging, he walked out the door and to Travers. As soon as he stood in front of Travers' desk, she looked up and replied with a hint of irritation.

"Sir, give me a break. I know what this would mean to you. I cleared your calendar all day."

"Then why did you ask me to come early and review my schedule?"

She replied with a sassy smile. "Because I could."

T'Pol tipped an eyebrow up, and the two walked down the hall as he showed her every room and eventually the council of the Federation which she'd be serving on. They walked the grounds and even had lunch in what Archer called the fancy Starfleet dining room.

All the while, the two caught up on events. T'Pol had seen Koss, but it had been brief and somewhat painful; he was in love with her and she was still somewhat indifferent to him and yet grateful. The mixed emotions were difficult to reconcile for her. The house of her mother's looked the same; somehow her refrigeration unit fizzled again. She also gave a report on T'Pau. The young woman had grown into her role – both in stature and in prestige. She'd already begun dying her hair black as was the custom from old and spoke exclusively in Vulcan even if she knew other languages like a pro. T'Pau had harkened that Vulcan would return to the values of yore. And most Vulcans awaited logic and discipline like clinging to a security blanket. T'Pol ended the revelation with a few words: "She was a good fit for minister."

During the conversation nothing was mentioned of the Kolinahr. No remark that it was too difficult. No statement that the priest had asked her to leave, just a simple statement that clung to him: it was not her path.

After 1500 hours when they were done, and the two had simultaneously debriefed each other on a year's worth of events, Archer propped his hand against the doorway of her office, where both ended up.

"Does Hoshi, Malcolm and --"

"No. They are unaware of my presence."

"You know they'll want to see you."

"Perhaps tomorrow morning?"

"I can arrange breakfast. Have you already checked into your new place?"

"I don't have one."

"What!"

"I'm staying at the headquarters for the time being."

Archer looked as if he was slapped in the face. "No way. We're heading back to my office and we'll get you something by the end of the day."

Marching ahead with a mission, he stopped when he felt a hand curl around his bicep.

"No."

"T'Pol, it'll take me a few minutes to--"

"Don't. Having a night here to myself would be welcome."

"In the office?"

"The couch apparently folds into a bed and--"

"No. No way. Why wouldn't you want a hotel?"

"I need time to adjust. I need … I need time."

It struck him that visiting him, in particular, was an honor. "Why don't you stay with me. Plenty of privacy."

Two large, brown eyes batted at him. "I presume you have two rooms."

A low chuckle left his lips, erupting from his diaphragm. "I have three."

She didn't respond.

"Do you have any bags?" he asked.

"I have the one in my office."

"Let's go get it."

As they made their way to her new space, she remained quiet. When they entered – she stared at the blue carpet and whispered to him.

"I'm not ready."

By the low voice, it was clear she meant she wasn't ready to be an ambassador. He smiled. "Oh, yes you are."

"I keep wondering if this was a mistake."

"Change is the logical progression of life," he awkwardly quoted. He knew this was a quote from Surak, one that held deep meaning for the Vulcan people.

"Yes." A bowed head looked up. "Jonathan, the Kolinahr was … difficult. I don't know--"

He waited, but she didn't finish the sentence, and right now he knew better than to press her.

"Give it time," he said. Grabbing her bag, which felt amazingly light, he led her back down the hall and toward the parking garage. As they did, he wondered exactly what happened and why this T'Pol seemed more timid than he can ever remember her being.

It'll take some time.


TBC