Fog settled over the moorings on a dark night with low-powered street lamps barely slicing through. A light mist hung in the air, damp like any fall night in San Francisco. Boat moans, the splashing of water and the caw of seagulls mingled intermittently into the night air and echoed throughout the quiet dock.
It was 1 a.m. and T'Pol waited patiently, looking over her shoulder from time-to-time, waiting for something or someone to appear. A chill traveled up her spine; this climate wasn't suited for a desert woman. Just as she was on the verge of turning around, she heard a voice – hushed – address her.
"I knew you'd come."
The voice was synthesized, masking a perpetrator, and the result was a tinny deep voice that covered up the noises of the harbor. Glancing from left to right, all she could see was shadow though she could feel more of them around her. Darkness blanketed the area, cast from the structures that hung nearby and onto the electronic voice to mask his or her identity.
She addressed the voice. "It appears you were correct."
"Are you alone?"
"Do you see anyone with me?"
"I scanned the area," another man replied. "She has no one with her."
"What do you know about the gem?" the voice asked.
"Precious little."
"Did he tell you what it was?"
"A gem."
"What else?"
She was quiet.
"What else!" the voice demanded.
She remained silent, her lips flattened so that she could feel them against her teeth.
"We told you what we would do if you refused."
From out of the dim lamplight, she spied two creatures – one was shaded and there was another ….
"T'Pol, it's a trap. Don't say anything," Archer said.
"Jonathan?"
Barely visible, Jonathan – his hands tied in front of him with strong rope – was pushed forward so his visage became clear. The man had blood clinging to his lip and a bruise adorning his cheek. Unthinking, she took a step toward him when the man with the synthetic voice walked into the light, his face covered to protect his identity, warned her immediately.
"Stay where you are," the creature said. "We'd hate to kill him."
She stood still.
The other darkened creatures moved into the light – there were six Arali surrounding her.
"How did they take you?" she asked.
"On my way home from Shran's. They were waiting for me …."
"Are you all right?" she asked him.
Archer said, looking at his captors, "Well, the company's kinda dull." The insult met with a quick phase pistol butt delivered to his gut and the man doubled over.
"Don't harm him," T'Pol said.
"Tell us what we want to know," asked the marked creature.
"I know very little."
"We know Vulcans can't lie. Tell us about the gem … the crystal."
As one of them raised their fist about to deliver it to her former captain, the Vulcan spoke.
"Please, don't harm him. Shran told me very little."
The creature seethed. "That idiot must've told you more. After all, you're friends."
A clanging rattled, as if a trash can lid was knocked from the can it covered, and the creatures became nervous. One, staying within the shadows, went to investigate the problem behind a nearby barrel and saw nothing.
"Shran and I friends? The man is responsible for the death of a close friend of mine."
"You went to his house," the creature said.
"Jonathan was there."
Archer shook his head. "T'Pol, don't say anything to them."
She said, "Your friendship with Shran is not my concern. You are." Focusing on the leader, she eyed him. "What guarantee do I have that you will release him once I tell you?"
"Tell us what we want to know first."
"Don't tell them, T'Pol," Jon said.
She ignored the plea. "It's powerful."
The masked man nodded. "Yes. Powerful enough that the Andorian government would steal it … and use it against its enemies. We know the Andorians are beginning to use it on their ships."
"There is very little the crystal can't do. It can destroy an entire starship if used properly."
"What?" The man sounded like he salivated at the idea.
"If the gem is used properly, it can destroy an entire starship, possibly more."
"How can we use it?"
"Release Jonathan."
The man with the mask shook his head, threateningly. "How do we use it?"
Reaching into her cloak, she noticed suddenly weapons were drawn pointing straight at her head. Holding her position, she flicked and eyebrow and permitted an Arali to search her robe's sleeve (her destination) until he pulled out a PADD. Nudging her head in the direction of her notes, she said a few words.
"I anticipated you would ask this question. The information is there."
"T'Pol," Archer whispered with disappointment.
She ignored his protest and said, "Secrets, military ones, are difficult to keep. The Arali would find out eventually. It's only logical to provide them this."
An Arali, narrowing his eyes looked at the information. "Her notes seem authentic. She's included a scan of the gem."
"Why did you give this to us?" asked the masked man.
"You said there was something I want; your analysis was correct. He's my friend."
"I thought he would make you capitulate." She could see the man's smile, even in the dark. "We manipulated the data disc."
"Oh?" she asked.
"But, it wasn't difficult to see there was something between you."
She remained quiet.
The man with the hidden identity pushed Archer forward toward her and she clasped her arms around him to keep him from falling.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah," Jon whispered.
As she helped him try to remove the binding around his wrists, she heard the man reviewing the PADD.
"This is a fraud! The compound doesn't match to our information."
Grabbing Archer's arm, she hit the deck and waited for a streak of blue light to come from behind a tool shed, one conveniently located less than twenty clicks away, hitting the leader squarely in the chest. He went down quickly as the other Arali fired back.
"I'll get him back," said one of the Arali, pointing to Archer.
Unfortunately, the admiral lowered his body to the ground too slowly. A harpoon-like weapon speared his shoulder and long metal tether connected to it, and the Arali at the controls pressed a few buttons.
"Break free," she said.
It was before electric shocks were delivered and his body convulsed as the man yelled at the pain it successfully delivered. Arms and legs flung in all directions, his chest heaved, and he eventually landed face-first onto the deck where he continued the movement.
The phaser fight continued, but neither Shran nor Gral could take the mark of the man who was torturing Archer. It called for a quick decision, and possibly a foolhardy one. With all her Vulcan might, T'Pol grabbed at the tether from Archer's back and ripped it out leaving blood, skin and flesh in its wake. It knocked the breath out of her, and she realized that because of the shock, she was vulnerable to attack.
Just as the torturer came next to her, Shran felled him with a single shot. The man hit the ground and his phase pistol was knocked out of his hand. The Vulcan clutched at her heart – the typical slow, steady rhythm was now sputtering irregularly.
Phase rifle shots, from Shran's gun, volleyed off and took down two men who were closing in on her. One of the Arali managed to fire off a round, a beam of light that nearly caught the Andorian's antennae. Gral, less successful with his phase pistol, managed to miss most of his targets. And although he wasn't cowardly, he hid behind a large barrel with a shaky aim.
While the battle continued, T'Pol noticed the masked man began running down the dock. With the last remaining strength she had left, T'Pol grabbed a phase pistol that had fallen near her and shot her target. The man immediately toppled to the ground.
Sinking onto the pier, she felt her eyes begin to close and her heart flutter at a maddening pace, almost as though it would burst from her chest. Within moments, she wasn't sure how many, she heard two voices fade into the ether.
"Great grendal. They used a disruptor," Shran whispered. "Hold on, Vulcan."
"How's Archer?" Gral asked.
Shran said, "Get Phlox!"
----
T'Pol opened her eyes slowly and noticed she was in her own apartment. When her eyes gained focus, she realized she was lying next to Archer on her bed. Her former captain was curled on his side with his bare back to her. A bandage stuck there, covering the shoulder that sustained damage, and his breathing was long and low. As she was about to get up, she realized how tired she was. Hazy, in a fog, she heard a voice.
"Easy," Phlox said. "You're going to feel a little woozy. I gave you each an Elijian eel."
"Eel?" At that very moment, she felt something in her arm and saw it wiggle under her skin. Whatever it was, she indeed felt relaxed, almost sedated.
"Relaxation."
"Jonathan?" she asked.
"He has one too, although he was shocked a little longer. Because he's human, it'll take a little time for him to recover," he said.
She felt sore, the kind she hadn't experienced in some time. Reaching a lazy hand to push aside her hair, she looked over at Archer.
"Don't worry, he's fine. He's lucky you pulled the tether from him. A couple more seconds and he'd be in the hospital … or worse."
"His shoulder?" she asked.
"Underneath his dressing is a Saran suckerfish," he said. "It'll cauterize the wound and regenerate some of his cells. The wound itself wasn't that serious."
A little relieved she settled back when she noticed someone hovering behind the doctor.
"You didn't follow the script," Shran accused. "Still, I'm glad to see you and the Pink Skin made it out alive. I can't believe he volunteered to allow them to capture him. I have to say that man has guts. He would've made a great Andorian."
She wasn't sure she'd call it guts. When the admiral had surfaced the idea, she'd remembered thinking it was risky – too risky. In the end, though, they'd all determined it would allow for a deception and give Reed's men enough time to arrive. What they hadn't counted on was that the Arali would discover the treachery so early. T'Pol hadn't been given much time to complete a fake scan and information about the gem. Everyone assumed the Arali would read the first bit and then save the rest of it for later.
They also hadn't counted on the device used on Archer – the disruptor.
Shran said, "At least this brought you to share a bed." His eyebrows waggled.
A frown nearly worked its way to her face and the blue man smiled. "Ah, don't get upset. You did well."
A little pig-like man wormed his way through. "Good you're up! Did this blue demon tell you I shot a man?"
Shran wrapped his arm around his little friend. "He did."
Breaking up the gaiety, T'Pol asked, "What do we know about the Arali?"
"Captain Reed's men arrived soon after you lost consciousness. But, we saw the man who held Archer," Gral said.
She waited.
"An Earthling."
An eyebrow rose.
"Archer's aide," Shran said. "Captain Reed thinks he's with Terra Prime."
That surprised her.
"Why would a Xenophobic Earthling join forces with aliens?" she asked.
"To encourage aliens to leave his planet," Gral said, with a snort.
There was a strange logic in it, but she found it disconcerting all the same. Vulcan, Andoria, Denobula … and now Earth. Each planet seemed to have been infiltrated by Romulans, Arali and Orions. They'd been hatching a plan for some time, it told her. And she found it unsettling that everything came to fruition now. War certainly was on the horizon, she just hoped it could be staved off longer.
"I think Stan was the yarpog who planted the device on Archer's jacket that implicated you," Shran said.
"I believe you are correct," she said.
Gral stroked his beard. "At least it means we should get a confession about how he falsified the video of you and Archer. I'll work on that and distribute it to the other ambassadors as soon as possible."
"She should get her rest," Phlox said.
Shran and Gral nodded. As they were about out the door, Shran asked a question. "So, do Vulcans refrain from lying?"
"Everything I said tonight was true." She avoided a lie even now. Vulcans did lie, she knew personally, though they abhorred doing so.
"The gem could destroy a starship?" he asked.
"I'm sure there's a way to overload the crystal, like our plasma, to destroy a ship."
"What you said about Andorians?" he asked.
"I disliked your people at one point. However, now I would consider you a friend."
The Andorian grinned. "I see."
"I said she needs her rest," Phlox said with more authority.
"We heard you, Doctor. You did well, my friend," he said to her. "I'll check on you later."
Gral grunted. "I'd like to as well."
She nodded, despite thinking she didn't need "checking on." With that the blue man and the little pig left. On the way out, and as Phlox looked into a bag he'd brought with his medical equipment she heard the men talk.
"Why didn't you invite me to your dinner?" Gral asked, a little hurt.
"Jhamel and I are trying to set those two up. It's cozier just the four of us and Tallah."
"I could've brought my wife."
"You two would be arguing all night long."
"Of course we would. I care about her."
Snapping her attention into focus, Phlox spoke to her as Shran and Gral's voice faded into the background.
"Did you ever think you'd hear him call you a friend?" the doctor asked.
"No. Nor did I ever suspect he would be mine."
Fiddling with a hypo and providing it to Archer's neck he checked his vital signs with a satisfied sigh.
He retrieved the instrument in his hand and then pointed to Jonathan. "I hope you don't mind taking the two of you here. It seemed easier to care for you together."
She didn't answer.
"I can move him to the pillows in the living room if it would make you more comfortable?"
"No. There's nothing wrong with friends sharing this space together."
Slightly confused, he nodded his head – almost as if he had no idea what she was talking about – and turned the light off before exiting. T'Pol stared up at the ceiling. The curtains hid most of the light from the city, only the moon – which was occasionally covered by thick clouds – shone though. It was large and full with a slight yellow glow.
The man beside her stirred suddenly.
"Where--?" he asked. His voice sounded groggy and hoarse.
"In my apartment. Actually in my bed."
"Huh?"
"You were hit by a disruptor and Phlox took both of us to my apartment."
"Oh." He tried to lean up and fell helplessly back. "The last thing I remember …. Did we catch the Arali?"
"Yes. The man holding you hostage was … Stan."
"Stan? Neville's aide - Stan?"
"Yes."
"Why?" Horror filled his face. "He's just a kid …."
"According to Shran and Gral, the young man was involved in … Terra Prime."
He sucked in a deep breath. "I thought that group was long gone."
"Yes. At least, I was hopeful it was."
Rolling over onto his hurt shoulder to face her, he furrowed his brow and ducked his head until he captured her gaze. "Are you all right, T'Pol?"
She gave a hesitant sigh. "It has been many years since I heard that name. I am …."
"You didn't answer my question."
Unintentionally, she nodded.
He said, "It must be difficult."
Terra Prime – the word and its existence – seemed to have brought up painful memories she thought were long buried … emotions that she'd sorted out sorted and dealt with. And yet, she wondered now why there was a knot in her stomach as she thought about this organization and a dead child from nearly seven years ago.
It also made her think of Trip.
There were other thoughts that hovered in her brain, like how such a detestable organization could've resurfaced to help the Romulans, Orions and Arali. It meant that nearly every planet in the Federation was vulnerable to attack and deceit.
The woman stared into the eyes of her former commander.
She said, "We're at the brink of war. I have an aide going to Romulus who may be in jeopardy because of Stan and Terra Prime. The Federation has collapsed and nearly every planet in the Federation has suffered treachery. My reputation has been hurt and my government is displeased with me because of my association with you. And thinking of Terra Prime has … uncovered memories about …."
The word was a simple one, Elizabeth, and yet she could not bring herself to say it.
At her speechlessness, his hand cupped her face – showing concern and care.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Emotions," she said. The word hissed against her teeth. "I haven't had time to meditate recently, otherwise, I might be better equipped to handle them."
"I think you're entitled."
"Entitled?"
Instead of lowering his hand, he stroked her cheek with his thumb hand and gave her a slight smile. "I meant no one could blame you … how you feel. I certainly don't."
The two gazed at each other in the darkened room – moonlight filling in some of his features, including a glint in his eyes. She took a silent breath and then scooted unconsciously away from his grip and from him.
"Dr. Phlox indicated we should get rest," she said.
As he snuggled his head into the pillow, he asked about her comfort. "You okay with me being here?"
It was clear to her he meant her bed.
"Phlox said it was easy to care for both of us in the same area."
"You know what I mean."
"You indicated you thought of me as only a friend, correct?"
"That's what I said--"
"Then I see no issue."
"T'Pol--"
"Sleep. We can talk later."
He sighed and she closed her eyes to think about Elizabeth, Trip and Jonathan before sleep overcame her.
----
Shran arrived late in the afternoon and let himself in with a security code that Phlox provided him. Dusk was breaking over the city and the living room warmed to the pink hue, reflecting off the sandy colored walls. Candles were scattered around the rooms as if to woe a man, rather than seek meditation … at least that was Shran's thought. The Andorian, who'd been too worried last night/this morning to take a good look around, decided the Vulcan's home looked distinctly feminine.
Rummaging through her home, he noticed many interesting details – she had wine, though she didn't drink, freshly bought meat in her refrigerator though she was vegan and pillows on her floor … enough for two people. He also noticed there was a tuxedo jacket, tie and shirt neatly folded on the table. A grin spilled over his face and made his antennae stand erect.
So I was right about the video and the Pink Skin's reaction!
Putting the clothes back on the table, he then wandered over to the bedroom. The door was closed. Putting a blue hand on his thinning white hair, he scratched his head at the dilemma.
Should I knock first?
Listening to the door, he heard heavy breathing – with a light snore coming from the human, as if both were asleep.
Shrugging, he decided if they had mated at least he'd see the evidence for himself. He opened the door, unabashedly, and frowned. T'Pol was on her back with her eyes closed and her lips barely open in the same attire she wore last night. The Pink Skin was dressed, except for his shirt, and was curled up beside her. Neither were touching, sharing a pillow nor even underneath the covers together. They weren't snuggling or even grinning sheepishly in their sleep.
Maybe what the Pink Skin said about being friends was true.
As he was about to reach over and wake the Vulcan, as Phlox had instructed him to do before they all left last night, he looked over on her desk. There was a picture there near her terminal encased in a silver frame. Walking to it, he picked it up in his blue hands and inspected it. It wasn't a picture of Tucker or even one of Vulcan. It was picture of Enterprise's senior officers in the engine room together – one that Starfleet must've taken. It was before they went into the Expanse, although he wondered if they'd already known about Earth because their faces seemed grim and determined. Archer leaned on the railing like a ferhal that was ready to pounce, flanked by his two best friends: Tucker sat beside him and T'Pol nestled on the other.
Something made him open the frame and examine it in more detail. Reed and Sato were standing next to each other, her grabbing onto the railing and his arms crossed as if nothing would stop him. About to return it to the frame it dropped from his hands and ended up face down on the floor.
"Derak," he cursed. Collecting it, he noticed some timid scribbles on the back. "Don't know if Vulcans keep pictures, but thought you might like this – Jonathan Archer."
The date on it indicated he sent it less than a year ago. Shran turned it over in his hand again and stared at it. The Pink Skin's hair was tinged with gray these days and seeing how Trip had been dead for some time, it couldn't have been taken recently.
He looked at the two on the bed and rubbed an antenna with his free hand and remembered the planning session from last night, before T'Pol met the Arali on the pier.
Gral, T'Pol, Archer and he had argued about each plan that surfaced.
Gral's idea was for Starfleet to immediately seize the culprits as the four of them continued to drink Andorian ale and eat whatever leftovers Jhamel had. The little man argued that it would be the easiest thing to do and would afford them time to chitchat. He seemed unwilling to think about what if Malcolm's terminal was bugged … which the Vulcan and the human thought was a strong possibility. Shran simply didn't like it because it meant he wouldn't be in on the action.
Before anyone else could speak, the Andorian let a smile cross his lips. "I have a plan."
The Andorian relayed his brilliant scheme involving two phase rifles strapped to his back while holding two large phase pistols. As soon as the Arali showed themselves, he'd come in guns blazing to take down as many as those ridge-faced terrorists as he could. He'd give the call of an Andorian ice bird so that T'Pol could duck down and Gral could stay out of the way. Archer, he reasoned, should probably have at least one phase pistol to help in case the firefight got out of control. After relaying his idea, he looked on the faces of his friends who seemed too squeamish to acknowledge the sheer genius of his plan; the green drained out of the Vulcan's cheeks and the Pink Skin shook his head, hiding a smile.
"Maybe not this time," Archer said.
Gral snickered.
T'Pol wanted to meet the Arali and put herself in danger while the rest of them waited for the right moment to incapacitate the blackmailers. Shran and Gral both agreed it had merit, but the Pink Skin spoke out loudly against that plan right away.
"No," he said.
"Why?" she asked.
"You'll be a sitting duck," he said.
"That may be, but it seems the most logical thing to do."
"I disagree. So, let's discuss another alternative."
"As I recall, you are no longer my commanding officer," she said.
The Pink Skin obviously didn't like that come back, and he hung his head. "No, I'm not. But, I'm your friend and I don't want to see you needlessly put yourself at risk."
"What would you propose?"
"The message they sent you made it seem like they'd trade the information for … me. I think they're going to look for me."
Shran spoke up. "Don't you think that's being a bit of a megalomaniac?"
Archer's eyes narrowed. "T'Pol's shown us the message. 'Something you want' is the title. They included pictures of me. I think they want to use me to make sure T'Pol tells them everything."
T'Pol's eyebrow twitched. "You could be correct. I have wondered about that title myself."
Shran kept his mouth clamped shut. He personally believed they were onto those two just like he was, but didn't think bringing up the information now would sway Archer or the Vulcan.
"I think we should all follow T'Pol's plan with one minor adjustment," Archer said. "I think I should be the bait."
Now the Vulcan disagreed. "I don't believe that to be wise."
"I don't think we have much of a choice."
Shran said, "If they are busy capturing you, I can contact your friend Reed without tipping them off."
Gral said, "We can tell him to meet us slightly after 1 a.m."
Archer nodded. "We need to let them think their plan is going to work."
"Jonathan," T'Pol said.
He smiled. "I'll be fine."
She didn't seem convinced.
He added, "I think after all my years on Enterprise, I'm used to being kidnapped."
Shran gave a chuckle. He liked a man who could laugh in the face of danger, one of the qualities he admired in the Pink Skin.
The Vulcan didn't seem amused, and with hesitation continued with the plan.
Shran looked over at the two. Archer was wrong about what he said, on Andoria men and women could be friends, but they would probably mate. The urge to procreate was strong in his species – so irresistible that teenage Andorians would do so. Into adulthood, hopping in and out of bed with a friend was always considered natural and normal. There were never expectations of more, although with good friends who were good mating partners, it could lead to more … especially during the Gathering Season before the big snowstorms. It was always good to have a mate, one whose company you enjoyed for more than just mating, during the long cold nights.
From what he knew about humans and their mating habits, their rituals seemed backwards. People fell in love before having sex. Shran shook his head.
That's just weird! Everything is easier when there's mating first, it helps weed out the people you shouldn't fall in love with.
The Andorian knew very little about Vulcan mating rituals other than they had a cycle to do the deed. Snidely, he thought Vulcans needed a reason to do everything, even mate.
Putting the picture back in its frame and setting it back on the desk, he tiptoed over to the two. Restraining the urge to put Archer's hand over her middle, just so he could see their expressions, he leaned over T'Pol and touched her arm.
Her eyes creaked open and then stared with confusion at him.
"Sorry," he said. "I need to see if your eel has dissolved."
Looking at her arm, she said, "I presume it has." She stirred and looked over at Archer. "What time is it?"
"Around five."
"Five … a.m.?"
"Nope. It's nearly night." Without the same gentleness he provided to the Vulcan, his hand nudged Archer. "Wake up. I have to check your arm and suckerfish."
"Huh?" Archer asked, sleepily.
"Arm and suckerfish."
The Andorian peeled the bandage away and noticed the little creature had managed do its work quickly. Although the pierced skin looked aggravated, it also seemed like it was better than he would've expected. Gruffly he checked the admiral's arm – no trace of the eel.
"Everything looks fine," Shran said. "You can go back to sleep."
Without as much as a word, Archer closed his eyes and began to give a light snore. T'Pol pushed herself from the bed.
"Phlox said Archer would be tired, but this? Human bodies must be weak."
"Perhaps he would be more comfortable in his own bed," she said.
"Nah. He looks comfortable here."
The Vulcan, without debating, crossed her arms and walked out of the bedroom into the kitchen. Shran followed at her heel.
"Would you like some tea?" she asked.
He gave a slow nod. Although he wasn't crazy about the substance, he wanted a chance to talk with the Vulcan.
"I wanted to let you know Ambassador Kator seemed very sorry at the embarrassment he caused you," Shran said.
"You provided him the evidence?" she asked.
"Gral sent it to all the ambassadors. They're still evaluating the information about Xemax. Seems like proving Stan's treachery would've sped that process along."
She was silent.
"I … Reed tried to contact you. He indicated you might be upset that Terra Prime was involved."
"He told you?" she asked.
Shran's antennae drooped. "He said enough."
"I believed that Earth had progressed."
"Terra Prime seems like a small group of dissenters. There are a few on Andoria who would rather the war with the Vulcans never had ended."
"To be in league with the Romulans, the Orions and Arali though?"
"They must really hate us," he said.
She poured some tea for both of them, and they sat down at her table.
The Andorian pointed to Archer's clothing lying there. "At least you'll have a chance to give these back to him."
"Hmmmm."
"You want my advice?" Shran asked.
"About what?"
"Commander Tucker was a long time ago, and so was Terra Prime."
"The organization hasn't changed its tactics. They again used a relationship to further their cause, although in this case they misconstrued it."
"No, that's not what I mean. There's an Andorian saying – the past is the past."
Quizzically, she widened her eyes.
"It's a phrase that means the past is gone and focusing on it won't help."
"I thought Andorians believed in revenge and vengeance. Those activities seem focused on past events."
He scowled. "Forgetting the past … it's how I moved on when Talas died."
"Are you concerned I am worried about the past?"
"Yeah." Before she could speak, he waved his hand before her. "And don't give me that derak about Vulcans and emotions. You and I both know you're different."
"I'm not … worried. However, there are many things I would've done differently."
"With Tucker or with Terra Prime?"
"Perhaps both."
"You've should let these things go. Move on. You're a different Vulcan now."
The Andorian took a swig of the dark material in the cup and twitched at the taste – bitter and not to his liking.
"The Pink Skin doesn't like to talk about his feelings."
The Vulcan's eyebrows furrowed as if she understood why Shran was going down this particular path.
T'Pol said, "There is a trait, one that my species holds above all others: loyalty. The bond of friendship in many cases is more important and gratifying than that of a spouse. My friendship with Jonathan is deep and satisfying."
"Well, sure. But, you're a Vulcan."
"I am."
"What I'm trying to say is I think the Pink Skin has feelings for you."
"He does. We're friends."
Shran sighed to himself. Can't be subtle with a Vulcan.
"Well, I'm just letting you know, I think he wants to mate with you."
That made her put her tea down.
"Why do you believe he wants to mate with me?" she asked.
"Because Earth men don't have deep and satisfying bonds of friendship with women, unless they're sleeping with them."
"What makes you say that?"
"Reed told me."
"He told you?"
"I asked if he had any close friendships with women, like Archer has with you, and he said 'no.'"
The Vulcan almost gave a frown.
"You know what else he said?" Shran said, "He used to drop by Sato's office and school every day and they had dinner on a regular basis. Dinner and frequent dropping by -- that's apparently what the term falling in love means."
"I believe the humans view of love as more than merely meals and visits."
Shran shook his head. "I asked if Reed would've stopped by all those times if he hadn't loved her, and he said 'no.'"
"Oh?"
"That's how he knew. In fact the human seemed to wonder if he hadn't somehow harbored feelings for Sato for longer."
She remained quiet.
Shran said, "Comforting each other, dropping by, touching …."
The woman seemed to be taking the information in.
"Humans show their love by mating. So … it stands to reason he wants to mate with you."
As if working the information out for herself, she spoke. "When he awakened, this morning, he touched my cheek. Caressed it."
He blue man grinned nearly from antenna to antenna.
"He almost …."
"Yes?" he asked, leaning in.
At his glee, she reiterated what she'd stated earlier. "Shran, I meant what I said about feeling only friendship for him. Vulcans don't feel love."
The Andorian's antennae fell slightly. "I would've thought after all these years maybe there was something …."
"No."
"Well, then it's unfortunate for Archer."
Her brow furrowed. "It is."
The Andorian stood and then pointed to his cup. "Thanks for the tea. Let me know if you need anything."
Rather than get up she nodded absent-mindedly.
Before reaching the door, Shran called out to her. "Gral and I are meeting at the Council tomorrow afternoon. Even if the Federation isn't going to do something together, we figure we can attempt it ourselves."
"You'd like me to attend?"
"I would."
"I'll be there."
"Good," he said. "Ask the Pink Skin, too."
"Of course."
"Maybe between now and then we can try to convince a few more to attend as well."
He placed his hand on the doorknob and opened when he heard from T'Pol again.
"I heard from my aide," she said.
"The one going to Romulus?"
"Yes, he sent a communication: all was well."
The Andorian nodded. "I'm glad to hear it, but I wonder for how long."
"As do I."
With that, Shran walked out the door.
TBC
A/N: More questions, more answers.