A/N: Sorry, all! This chapter is really for the shippers out there! This is a pure A/T'P lovefest. I'll continue with other plots, but this really had to be discussed.

Also, sorry it took so long to release. I had decided against just releasing this (which I've changed by mind about) and then a bunch of real life caught up with me.

----

When Archer woke up, there was a sigh building deep within his lungs, and he blew it out long and slow; it was one of the sweetest sleeps he'd ever had – even better than the one induced by Phlox when they were traveling in the Expanse. A hand gripped his belly suddenly, one that seemed to be owned by someone having an interesting dream and his lips sloped up.

T'Pol.

The bond between them helped him know the kind of dream, just as it helped him know she had been having more since their link emerged. Turning toward her slowly, as not to wake her, he smiled broader. In her mind, she was envisioning being chased by a sehlat, much like they were on Vulcan while they were in the desert, but this particular animal seemed like a family pet because when it caught her, he managed to push her over without going for the kill. Instead, the animal breathed in her face, grunting in something that reminded T'Pol – even as a child – as a chuckle.

The pet's name was Ausachya Rink'k'n, or quite logically in human named "Furball." When the name came to his lips, he nearly chuckled – it was a name a child would give and it made sense that T'Pol had shortened it to Ausachya. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on her dream and saw it unfold before him.

A girl around seven (at least in human years) with long hair bounded down a hall, hair that her mother should've cut months ago flapping in the breeze, as a bear-like creature followed with his tongue ridiculously sticking out. As she turned around to see if her animal was behind her, the creature tackled her again and she finally let loose a laugh.

"You smell," she told her pet.

It caused her mother to peek her head out the door.

"Are you teasing your sehlat again?" asked T'Les.

"Of course not, mother," she said. "He enjoys running with me."

"You cannot meld, thus you would not be able to establish whether your quadruped enjoys it."

The sehlat heaved a grunt. And as soon as her mother was gone, T'Pol wrapped her arms around the creature's old neck and hugged it, almost like a human child would, burying her face into the animal's mangy fur. After she released the animal, he yawned – displaying a mouth missing two fangs.

"I wonder if it was de-fanged," thought Archer.

"That would be cruel. He was old when he came to us, already missing most of his teeth."

"Sorry to wake you," he said. "Your dream seemed pleasant."

Her eyes opened slowly. "I have been having more of them."

"Perhaps it's because we share thoughts?" he asked.

"Perhaps. I find dreaming unsettling. I should meditate more often."

"You haven't had the chance in the past few days."

"I have not." Something twinkled in her eyes and she ran her fingers along his cheek. "You fell asleep last night."

His grin turned sheepish. "Sorry about that."

"You were up for more than forty hours without rest, and your body has not fully recovered. It was to be expected," she whispered.

She darted her fingers along his temple, and he nearly purred under them.

He said, "I'm not asleep now."

"No, you're not."

They kissed and Archer's heart fluttered. Lips met and what started out as loving and tender embraces turned into mouths devouring; tongues dove against each other and fingers combed through each other's hair.

Curling his lips he reveled in dragging his tongue along her skin and practically sang hymnals at the feel of her teeth nipping his earlobes, throat and chest. Skimming his hands along her body felt almost as normal and easy as breathing – as if it was pure instinct.

And yet, his eyes delighted in the sights that washed over him – copper flesh, olive eyes and hair that rested on her shoulders. A sigh came to his lips as he noticed she'd gained a smidgen of weight – her belly flat, but not as concave as he'd known it to be. He liked it – all of it – the tiny bit of extra weight, the longer hair ….

He could tell she was about to argue over her weight, when he shook his head.

"You look beautiful," he said.

He crawled up her body and then covered it with his weight before pressing his mouth to hers again. This time she spread his lips open with her tongue and teased it into her mouth.

Yes.

The sunshine streamed in, her skin glowing under its attention until he could see small amber flecks in her eyes.

Everything was perfect and everything was right. It was much more than their bond that made him feel so, although he supposed that had something to do with it. This feeling, the one that prompted his heart to beat wildly in his was chest was more than just a ten-year friendship, marked with self-sacrifice and caring. Kissing her juicy lips, saving them with his mouth, he recognized the emotion was definitely greater than lust.

Deep. Overwhelming. The words came to his mouth, nearly spilling out, when she silenced him with her tongue, darting it between his parted lips. The tenderness turned wanton again.

So, he showed her how he felt about her physically – the sun shining on their bodies – unfettered by San Francisco clouds or fog. It was everything he'd wanted, everything he'd been waiting for those three months, nearly four – awe inspiring, playful, caring, passionate and long. Satisfying in mind, body and soul.

When at last they finally broke apart, relaxed, he laughed and nuzzled his nose against hers. His hand caressed the side of her hair, gently raking his fingers through her damp locks.

"God, I've missed you," he said.

"I have felt your absence as well."

He whispered, "Do I have you all to myself today?"

"Today, yes. Tomorrow Ki'ar leaves for his home world to talk with the Ithanite leaders." Two fingers formed and he met them quickly. "And do I have you all to myself today?"

"You do."

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"Maybe take a shower first," he said. "Interested?"

He watched her think about it for a moment before answering. "It's inefficient."

His smile widened, mostly because he knew she was teasing him. "Definitely inefficient."

An eyebrow peaked and she slipped out of bed and headed into the bathroom. Lecherously, he watched with admiration as she slunk in. It caused him to remember the last day before he left.

As he sighed – awake in the early morning, gazing at her, she turned toward him. It nearly startled him.

"Good morning," she said.

"Hi," he said. "Sleep okay?"

"Yes, you?"

"Like a rock. Porthos didn't bother you did he?"

"No." She nuzzled her face into her pillow and then pushed up. "Would you like me to make you some tea?"

"No," he said. She was about to leave her bed when his hand curled around her arm. "I was hoping …."

Her eyes batted as if waiting.

He said, "I love you."

Their fingers formed in the Vulcan kiss. Separating them after a few moments, he brought his hand to her neck to trace the skin there.

He whispered, "When I come back … if you're not seeing anyone …."

"Jonathan, we discussed this last night--"

They had; she didn't believe she'd see anyone else, but thought it was best to leave things nebulous. In a way he'd felt better about that – though he didn't want her to wait for his return (if he did), it would hurt to hear her sever things.

"I know." He said, "I'm just hoping we can pick up where we left off."

"Vulcans take relationships very seriously."

"Are you concerned I don't?"

"No. A relationship such as ours does not exist on Vulcan, unless it is the time of Pon Farr."

"Such as ours? What does that mean?" he asked. His heart rate picked up as he considered for the first time in almost three weeks that to her, he was merely a friend with certain … benefits.

"I have nothing to define what we are, no words exist on my planet. And yet, you should know I call on you as more than just a man to satisfy my sexual gratification." She seemed to hesitate before continuing. "Vulcans do not need sexual gratification unless it is our mating time."

It caused him to shift, nervously. "And what if we had a bond?"

"It is unlikely--"

"Just, what if a bond did form?"

"We would be telsu. Bond mates."

"And what would happen then?"

"If it happens, which seems unlikely, we would discuss it." He opened his mouth to respond and she placed her fingertips over his lips. "Our relationship does not define us, and just because we have no words to share what we are now – I believe you know the depth of feeling I have for you. I have shared that with you in our mind melds."

She had, and although she didn't call it such – he believed she loved him, too.

"All right," he whispered.

"Now, would you like some tea?" she asked.

A smile spread across his lips. "I'll just watch you get up and make some."

A furrow crept across her brows and she almost immediately felt for the robe at the end of her bed. And yet, rather than put it on, she looked behind her and removed her hand from her robe.

"Very well," she said. And she padded off to make her morning chamomile despite her nudity.

Salaciously, he grinned.

As he pushed himself now out of bed to follow her into the shower, he wondered exactly what kind of conversation they would have about their relationship. Through the bond, he knew the two of them were both spinning their wheels on that notion.

---

As Jonathan would say, they had a lot to catch up on. T'Pol made breakfast – it was a Vulcan dish with the human food tofu, a protein that would meet Jonathan's dietary needs and her own. Setting it before him, she began telling him everything he'd missed during his three month and two week absence and he nodded through most of it indicating he'd heard it from Shran although the Andorian's version was a little different –– more "colorful" and "biased."

When she was through updating him, as if giving him a report as she would've on Enterprise, he peppered her with questions. Not surprisingly, they were about Ki'ar and Skon; the ones about Ki'ar clarified whether he'd join the Council, and the ones about Skon seemed mostly personal.

He was jealous.

Edging the conversation toward him and his travels, he gave her an update on everything he'd undergone – battles, arguments that cropped up among Vulcans, Andorians and Tellarites, the time alone in his cabin thinking about her and attempting to crash a ship into the planet. By the tone of his voice, she noticed it was an odd mixture of excitement and dismay at the events.

He'd left out a moment when Captain Vega attempted to kiss him, and she felt it would be hypocritical to bring it to his attention even though it unsettled her. Besides, she reasoned, his interests did not lie in that direction.

Afterward, they sat on the couch – their fingers mingling with each other's, enjoying the silence. It was then Jonathan finally brought up the bond, too impatient to let the conversation go any longer.

He said, "When I left, you said you wanted to keep our relationship nebulous."

"I did," she agreed. She watched a frown nearly make its way to his face and felt thoughts of doubt begin to cloud his mind; it was illogical of him, but endearing. "However, I believe those circumstances have changed."

Elation twinkled in his eyes. "I was hoping you'd feel that way. So what's the next logical step?"

"Unknown." Closing her eyes, she thought of the bond ceremony a priest had performed on her and Koss when they were seven – children; it was a tether to bring them back to Vulcan to satisfy the others' Pon Farr. After it was soothed, they would marry.

"Marry?"

Straightening a little, she shook her head. "I do not believe we are ready for that step."

"T'Pol--"

"As you indicated there is much we don't yet know about the other."

"You told me we chose each other."

"We have, and yet …." A flood of thoughts overwhelmed her mind and she plopped down her mug to shield his concerns. "Jonathan, your point of missing a courtship is valid. Although we have been friends for more than ten years, there are things to discuss and discover about the other." She could sense he was about to tell her she was confusing when she said, "Trip and I had a bond, and I did not marry him."

He said, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not Trip."

"I have noticed." Flattening her lips she offered two fingers, which he hesitantly took. "I meant, that marrying is not a foregone conclusion."

"I thought the bond we had was deeper than yours with him," he said.

"It is."

"Then?"

The emotions emitting from Jonathan were strange; he wasn't hell-bent on marrying her, and yet hearing she wasn't interested in that step unnerved him as if she had slapped his ego.

A sigh left her lips. "Margaret Mullin?"

"What about her?"

"You once told me you asked her to marry you, and that she declined."

"Yes?"

"You are not asking me to marry you now, and I am not declining." He was about to speak, when she pressed her fingers over his lips to stop him. "I am in no rush to push our relationship into marriage, and yet you are more to me than a … boyfriend. Let's allow this relationship to continue and grow. Flourish."

She could tell the words forming on his lips, so she interrupted him again. She said, "You are impetuous and impatient."

"I thought you liked those things about me." A teasing smile rested on his face.

"I do. But, perhaps taking things slowly will allow what we have to blossom further."

"Then maybe we should we move in together?"

An eyebrow lifted of its own volition.

He said, "You could bring your meditation mat here or even use one of the spare bedrooms and --"

"I have grown accustomed to my abode."

"Then perhaps I can move in with you." He paused, only for a second. "If that's okay with you."

Instead of showing him her fingers to initiate a Vulcan kiss, she reached out to cup his face and brought him in for a long embrace. It didn't involve their tongues, but it was tender.

"I would like that," she said.

He smiled. "Me, too."

"Of course there will always be a place for Porthos in my home."

"I already knew that."

There was something else in his mind, a joke, which she addressed.

"No, we cannot move to a different floor from Skon. You would like him if you got to know him."

"I suppose now it will be impossible not to."

"You asked me to keep an open mind about Shran. I am requesting the same open-mindedness."

The smile faded, and yet his eyes danced in the light. "All right."

Whispering to each other, they nuzzled noses, gave each other Vulcan and human kisses and did something Jonathan referred to as playing footsie while they discussed the timing of his move, how to use mental shields more effectively and when to visit Mandarin Cove for dinner.

All in all, T'Pol felt this relationship was comfortable. The bond was unobtrusive for the most part, and his thoughts melded with hers like the touch of their lips. During the day-long conversation, she watched him – his regal features, his strength and his caring. In a way, it made her wonder why it had taken her so long to accept his advances; if she had known that he would satisfy her katra so readily, she would've embarked in a relationship with him much sooner. Years ago even.

There were many times she thought she felt something more for him – when he sacrificed his life, plummeting toward Azati Prime to destroy the weapon, when she'd heard about his death after blowing up the Xindi weapon, when she saw him wracked with pain after forced melds on her home world, when she attempted to use logic to ask him not to fight Shran, when they'd talked late into the night and times like those when he'd risked his life to oust Stan, the member of Terra Prime ….

Silently watching, behind the privacy of her mental shield, she promised Jonathan they would marry. She couldn't imagine sharing thoughts with another man, thrilling to be in another's arms or awed in another's presence. Although they would take things slowly, T'Pol drew a foregone conclusion that she would marry the man who sat next to her now.

A twinkle formed in his eye, oblivious of her private thoughts.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I am thinking about us, ashaya."

"What about us?"

"Katra-katelau."

"Soulmates?"

Her hand formed the Vulcan kiss and he met it.

"Yes, beloved," she whispered.

A gentle smile crossed his lips. The two took their eyes to the setting sun and then left the intimacy and sanctity of his home to head out into the night for dinner at Mandarin Cove where they would embark on old habits and routines. As they walked, they held hands.

TBC