XXX

"Life is partly what we make it, and partly what it is made by the friends we choose."
– Tennessee Williams

XXXX

Chapter 9

Phlox did not try to spy on his crew mates, it just came naturally. It was almost as if others forgot that he existed, or they simply decided he wouldn't share their private lives. This was true, for the most part. He had been very successful at keeping the commanders relationship a secret, even if they were not as skilled at it. In fact, as he observed them eating together in the mess hall, he wondered if they could be more obvious. He could practically smell the pheromones coming off of the pair. Commander Tucker was grinning so soundly at something Commander T'Pol said that Phlox thought he would make a decent denobulan. For her part, T'Pol did not smile or move, but Phlox could almost swear he detected a glint in her eyes. As the pair moved to dispose of their plates, they walked past him.

"Good mornin' doc!" Commander Tucker said jubilantly. Phlox took a bite of his toast, and shook his head. Yes indeed, pheromones. Who did they think they were fooling?"

XX

Trip marched into sick bay with the loud whooshing of the doors behind him. At the sound of his footsteps, Phlox turned. He knew that sound well. The commander must be upset. "Got a sec, doc?" The commander's face was calm, except for a wild light in his eyes that could only mean one thing. He wasn't trained as a ship counselor, but he was the next best thing.

"By all means." He said, gesturing to one of the bio beds. Trip leaned against the closest bio bed, clutching his hands in front of him. Phlox was reminded of a very similar situation just a few years ago, when the commander learned he was a father. Just as he did then, he sat gently on the closest bio bed and waited for the commander to speak. After a few moments, the commander took a deep breath.

"This is your fault." He stated. Phlox needed no explanation.

"You were having trouble sleeping. I did not make you enter a romantic relationship." He reminded the commander gently. In fact, he had been just as surprised as the commander seemed to be. Trip sighed.

"I'd still like to blame you." He grinned slightly before sighing again. "Why do other people have to suck so much?" Was that rhetorical?

"Um…" Trip waved his hand.

"Not everyone, I just meant like those Vulcan visitors we had a few weeks ago."

"Ah." Yes, he remembered. Enterprise had been dispatched to transport a Vulcan ambassador and his entourage. He hadn't had much interaction with them, except the occasional sighting in the mess hall or in the hallways. "I take it you had some interactions with them that were unpleasant?"

"You could say that." He wiped his thumb across his lower lip. "Or I guess ya could say, T'Pol did." He pushed himself off of his elbows, and changed positions to be leaning his back against the bio bed, crossing his arms. "Right when they got on board ya could feel the coldness." He popped a hand up to dismiss Phlox's next thought, "And I don't mean typical Vulcan coldness, that I'm used ta. I mean coldness where they practically looked right through T'Pol. Sometimes they ignored her questions until someone else like the cap'n repeated it." He shook his head. "And that ain't the worst of it doc."

"You were aware that T'Pol might face some discrimination and difficulty from her people. The same way you have faced it from yours." The commander was looking down at his feet.

"But I can handle it." He looked into the doctor's eyes, his eyes full of worry. "I'm worried about her doc. She won't talk about it, even to me. I was thinkin' maybe ya could take a stab at it?"

"I'm not sure…"

"She likes ya. She trusts ya. Not just as her doc, but as a friend." Phlox wasn't sure T'Pol had any friends, and even if she did, the captain would be the more likely choice than him.

"The captain…"

"That would put him in an awkward position. He's a diplomat after all." Phlox nodded thoughtfully. "Plus, he'd try to make her talk about 'her feelings' and that just wouldn't work at all."

"Very well, commander. I will 'take a stab at it."

XXX

She was sitting sipping chamomile tea, and reading off of a PADD when he approached. "May I?" He asked, his hands full of the food tray. T'Pol nodded, and placed the PADD gently on the table. They had had enough meals together for her to anticipate his desire to talk while eating. He took the seat across from her, uncertain how to approach this particular topic. He and T'Pol had frank and deep conversations in the past, but somehow this had a different tone to it. He stabbed at his lettuce to stretch out the moment longer. Just as he was lifting the fork to his mouth, T'Pol said,

"I am aware that Commander Tucker asked you to speak to me. That will be unnecessary." Phlox lowered his fork, and sighed.

"He's worried about you." If T'Pol was a human female, he was certain she would be rolling her eyes at the suggestion. As it was, her posture changed almost unperceptively. Anyone who hadn't known her for the last 6 years wouldn't notice; for Phlox it was a huge sign. He finally took a bite off his fork. He chewed, then asked "Why do you think that may be?" Silence. He took another bite. "Perhaps the Vulcan visitors a few weeks ago?" T'Pol closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Perhaps their visit was awkward?"

"Vulcans do not 'feel' awkward." The typical, canned response of a Vulcan. He waved his fork around, bites of lettuce flying off.

"Perhaps then, a contentious interaction? Or perhaps Commander Tucker is more attuned to your inner workings than you want to admit to me?" T'Pol's eyes glared just a fraction. "I am not asking as your doctor; I am asking as your friend." T'Pol took another sip of her tea, hesitating slightly as she put her mug down.

"Commander Tucker 'worries' often. He assigns human emotions to situations that are not human." Phlox continued stabbing at vegetables within his salad, letting T'Pol speak at her own pace. Her first sentences tended to be a mask for what she would say in the next few sentences. "I am no longer accepted by much of Vulcan society." There it was. He put his fork down, and pushed his tray away.

"Did the ambassador say something to you?"

"He did not need to."

"Yes, Vulcans do not need words to express themselves." Phlox mused, smiling sadly. T'Pol was an anomaly among her people, and among her crewmates. Neither the 'perfect' Vulcan, nor human. She had cast herself apart by taking a Starfleet commission and by taking a human mate. Oh yes, Vulcans knew. Although the commanders had told no one officially, Vulcans could sense the bond. It was no surprise that the ambassador had given T'Pol the cold shoulder. They claimed to be a highly developed species, but even they had a long way to go, it seemed. "Some of Vulcan society is not as closed-minded. Take faith in that." T'Pol met his eyes steadily. "One Vulcan's opinion does not matter, nor a hundred Vulcans, nor a thousand. All that matters is the opinion of one, you." T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

XXX

"What the hell did ya tell her?!"

"Good morning to you as well, commander." Phlox stood up from feeding his animals to face what appeared to be an irate commander, who's ears were bright red. "How can I be of assistance?" The commander's arms were crossed resolutely across his chest.

"Ever since she talked to ya, all I've been getting is images that are all mixed up." Phlox raised his eyebrows. "Never mind."

"All I told her, commander, is that it must be lonely to be on a ship where's the only one of her species, while being rejected by her own species."

"You said that?" Phlox shrugged.

"More or less." Trip's whole body seemed to relax, almost too much. Like the energy had gone out of his being.

"That's a lot for a Vulcan process." He said, walking toward a bio bed, and then leaning against it. "It's hard to support someone who doesn't express how they feel." Phlox decided it was time to take a daring step, and address the relationship directly. He was the only one who could confront them and not risk getting shot. At the end of the day, they needed a doctor.

"I believe you knew this before deciding to pursue a deep relationship." He said, raising his eyebrows.

"Why does it have to be so damn hard though? Why can't Vulcans and humans just mind their own damn business? Who the hell cares who falls in love with you, or who's mate is who, or whatever the hell people want to call it?!"

"Shouldn't you be having this discussion with the other half of this relationship, and not me?" Phlox ventured. Trip deeply sighed.

"Yes. But every time I try, I feel like I'm just messin' it up, and proving that she should've just stayed married to Koss, or some other Vulcan. Someone her people wouldn't cast her out for." Ah. As usual, the commander was covering his true feelings with anger. He often covered his sadness or guilt with anger. Perhaps it was easier for the young commander to deal with anger than with more difficult feelings of inadequacy.

"Commander, I would venture that T'Pol could have taken the route of ignoring whatever was going on between the two of you. For a Vulcan, that would have been easier." Trip's eyes were wide as he listened silently. "Yet, she took the difficult route of 'staying the course' with her career in Starfleet, and in other ways. If she wanted what Koss offered, she'd still be married to him. Try to remember that." Before the commander could answer, the doors to sick bay opened.

"Hi Doc, got a minute?" An ensign asked meekly.

"Thanks doc, see ya later." Commander Tucker said, a small smile on his face.

XXXX

Yes, sometimes he was glad to be 'invisible'. It was dark in the mess hall, most of the crew asleep. He had been working late in sick bay, and had nearly forgotten to eat, until he was suddenly reminded. The door suddenly whooshed open, with Commander Tucker striding in, followed a moment or two behind by T'Pol. Phlox smiled to himself; this was one of their vain attempts to cover their relationship. Tucker ordered chamomile tea, and smiled as he handed it to T'Pol, before ordering his own coffee. Looking around the mess hall quickly, and apparently missing the doctor, Tucker leaned over slightly and kissed the side of T'Pol's head quickly.

He didn't know what the commanders had talked about, if they had talked. But, he knew he was the only one who got to see them as they truly were, without the filters they put in front of others. If only the rest of the world could be like a doctor, a confidant, no judgmental, and confidential. Until then, he supposed he'd have to be a doctor, and a counselor.