This is a repost of an old fic. The events of this story take place in season 4, between "Bound" and "Demons."
Original A/N: In my mind, the bond between Trip and T'Pol is a fairly new thing and not yet particularly strong at this point.
Special thanks to my stalwart betas: honeybee & Dinah.
Distracted said: "Here's my challenge. Remember the child that Ahlen implanted in Trip? I'd like to see a followup story where Ahlen brings the child aboard to visit Trip. Under what circumstances could this occur? I'd like to see a story exploring and expanding on what little we know of Ahlen's culture. What would motivate her to seek Trip out? How would the crew...in particular T'Pol...react to such a visit? How would Trip react to it? What about it, Misplaced? You interested?"
Rigel Kent added: "And because Soval is "the sh#t," he should probably be in there somewhere too, right, Dis?"
Here is the fruit of my labor. Enjoy.
CHAPTER ONE
Blast from the Past
Now this is the kind of "work" I'm talking about!
It had started with an invitation for a neuropressure session. T'Pol came down to Engineering and asked to speak with Trip in private. His heart gave a little jolt; he wasn't sure if this was going to be one of those talks. It usually wasn't a good sign when she came into his domain to speak with him about something other than the engines.
"Commander," she began, after he'd closed the door to his small office. "Are you getting adequate rest?"
The question caught him off guard. "I guess." The truth was he was sleeping about as well as he usually did, which was hardly at all.
T'Pol studied his face so intensely that Trip wondered if maybe she was picking up something from this weird bond thing they had. "Are you certain?" she asked again.
He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care?"
"Now that you are officially the chief engineer of Enterprise again," she replied in a tone that expressed her disapproval of his leaving in the first place, "as the first officer, I am obligated to ensure the health of the crew."
Trip snorted. That sounded like it was supposed to be logical enough, but he was pretty certain that was a load of convoluted baloney. "And you think I'm not taking care of myself?"
"I suspect your habit of neglecting your health remains unchanged."
"Uh-huh." He involuntarily pushed the inside of his cheek with his tongue. If Trip didn't know any better, he'd think T'Pol was trying to find an excuse to spend some quality time with him. "So what are you going to do about it, Commander?"
"Perhaps if you are still experiencing difficulty sleeping, you might consider resuming neuropressure treatments."
Bingo.
Trip sucked the insides of his cheeks to keep from grinning like an idiot. Damn, but he liked this T'Pol. If he'd have known she'd be pining after him like this, he'd have left Enterprise a long time ago. Not that she was pining, exactly. Whatever this was, Trip wasn't going to argue with it.
"Hm." He pretended to think hard. "It does sound like the logical thing to do."
She raised a brow. "Indeed."
Had she always been so transparent? Trip couldn't remember her being so obvious before. Maybe it was this mysterious mating bond that was making it easier to read her.
"All right then. I'll take you up on your offer."
T'Pol's eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "Would 1800 in my quarters be agreeable?"
"That'd be just fine," he answered, finally letting out the smile he'd been holding back.
That was how he ended up in T'Pol's quarters, making out with his favorite Vulcan. Trip couldn't remember who started the kissing and he really didn't care. He also didn't know when they'd gone from the floor to her bed, but that was something else he wasn't inclined to figure out either. All he knew was this was heaven. There was no better way to describe it. It was a heaven that he'd been missing for far too long.
T'Pol's hands stroked his back and he felt the desire to do some serious "exploration" stir in his middle. It took all of what little rational thought he had left to keep him from ripping off her Triaxian silk pajamas. Trip didn't want to overstep his boundaries and drive her away again. But damn, he wanted her so badly-body and soul. And when her fingers began wandering beneath the waistband of his sweatpants-
Heaven! I'm floating!
Trip reluctantly pulled back from their passionate lip lock, hoping to see in her face that she wanted the same thing he did. Her dark eyes fluttered open and returned his gaze, silently giving him the permission that he so desperately craved. His entire body was suddenly ablaze with the overpowering hunger he'd been attempting to keep at bay. He began fumbling with the buttons of her top as he leaned down to kiss her again.
Floating! I'm floating!
The damn buttons wouldn't budge. Just as he was about to tear her top to shreds, he felt her warm, slender hands cover his. Momentarily confused, he broke off his kiss. It took only a second for him to realize that she was helping him rather than changing her mind. The wry grin budding on his lips stopped abruptly when something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.
We are floating!
There, several feet below his beautiful Vulcan, was her bed. He turned his head and saw that the ceiling was mere inches away. T'Pol stopped unbuttoning her top when she realized that Trip was distracted. Her eyes widened as she came to the same realization that he did. Before either of them could speak, Trip felt his stomach suddenly drop, and he knew that the gravity was coming back online. He shoved against the nearest wall, hoping it would be enough to keep him from falling on top of her.
Trip heard the muffled whump of her soft landing on the mattress just as he hit the deck, hard on his shoulder. "Son of a bitch!" He scrambled to his feet and turned to face T'Pol. "Are you all right?"
She sat up and straightened her pajamas. "I am fine. Are you injured?"
His arm hurt like hell, but he didn't want her to pester him to go to sickbay. "I'm okay." He walked toward the comm, feeling frustrated at the interruption of what was shaping up to be one of his favorite neuropressure sessions. "I don't know what the hell that was, but I swear if Kelby-" The comm chirped to life, interrupting Trip.
"Senior officers report to the bridge immediately."
Jonathan Archer pretended not to notice that Trip and T'Pol had arrived together, both looking a little disheveled. While T'Pol was in uniform, Trip was wearing a t-shirt, sweatpants and sandals. Jon had his suspicions about the two of them, especially since Trip returned to Enterprise, but he wasn't sure how he wanted to handle it if those suspicions proved correct. For now, he'd decided that the best policy was "Don't Ask."
"Cap'n?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt your... uh... rest, Trip," Jon said, catching the chief engineer's furtive glance at T'Pol, "but we seem to be having some unusual system malfunctions."
Trip grimaced and rubbed his right shoulder. "Yeah, I noticed."
"It's not just the grav plating, Trip. Some decks are reporting temperature drops. Hoshi says the ship-to-ship sensors are down..." Jon trailed off. T'Pol turned and stepped into her station, looking very much like she had an idea. "Fortunately the ambassador's deck seems to be all right. So far."
They were transporting Soval back to Earth, having finished the negotiations for the new treaty between Andor and Vulcan after their latest skirmish. Jon gave silent thanks to the universe that he didn't have a cranky ambassador breathing down his neck over this inconvenience.
"I'd better get down to engineering. We're almost done with the repairs, but maybe we missed something," Trip said as he started toward the turbolift.
"I believe I've found the problem, Captain." T'Pol stood and walked to the command center in the back of the bridge. Jon followed her, nodding to Trip and Malcolm to do the same. As they stood around the console, T'Pol brought up a schematic of the Enterprise at warp. "There is a distortion in our wake pattern." She pointed to the obvious void where there shouldn't be one.
"Son of a bitch!" Jon looked up to see Trip turn several shades of red.
"Xyrillians," Malcolm said. "I thought this all felt a little too familiar. Do you think it's the same ship?"
Jon sighed. "I guess we're about to find out." He stepped back to stand by his command chair. "Hoshi, open a channel," he started to say as the turbolift doors hissed open. He turned to see a disgruntled looking Vulcan ambassador step onto the bridge. "Belay that, Hoshi," he managed to get out before Soval opened his mouth.
"Captain Archer, I would appreciate an explanation as to why my quarters are barely above freezing. Is this some human prank? If so, I do not find it particularly amusing."
Jon groaned inwardly. "Ambassador, I can promise you that it was unintentional. If you'd like, you're more than welcome to stick around while we find out the cause."
Soval dipped his chin in silent agreement. Certain that the ambassador had been appeased for the moment, Jon turned to Hoshi again.
"Channel open, sir," she said, "audio only."
"This is Captain Jonathan Archer," he began, feeling an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, "of the Starship Enterprise. We would appreciate it if you would back off several kilometers as your presence is causing several malfunctions on our ship."
"We are complying," a feminine voice answered.
"Captain, they've moved off," Malcolm reported from behind Jon, "and they've turned off their stealth technology."
"I can establish a video feed now if you'd like, sir," Hoshi said.
"By all means." Out of the corner of his eye, Jon saw his chief engineer try to sneak to the lift. "Trip, it might not be a bad idea for you to stay put. You have the most experience with them."
"Aye, Cap'n." Trip appeared for all the universe like he wanted to crawl under the deck plating as he walked toward Jon.
"Onscreen, Hoshi."
The star field winked out, replaced by the interior of the Xyrillian ship. In the center was a petite female.
"Captain, I apologize for the disruption of your systems. While we were searching for you, we developed a problem with our teraphasic coils. I know we should have asked permission first, but we were getting close to losing all systems."
"Have you considered designing a-" Jon began, when something she had said struck him. "Wait, you were looking for us?"
She didn't answer immediately, but seemed to take them all in with her large, pale green eyes before they settled on Trip.
"Commander Tucker," she said with amusement hinting in her voice. "It's good to see you again."
"Hello, Ah'len." Trip was fidgeting. He looked like he was ready to bolt at any given second. "Good to see you too." He was smiling but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'd like for you to meet someone." Ah'len gestured off screen. Within moments a smaller Xyrillian stepped forward, about the height of Ah'len's shoulder. "This is our daughter."
Trip's smile morphed into a contorted grimace and the color drained from his face. The rest of the crew froze with gaping expressions. Jon was pretty sure he looked just as shocked as they did.
"Fascinating." Soval's voice interrupted the stunned silence. The ambassador had been so quiet that Jon had forgotten he was on the bridge.
"Oh boy," Jon muttered under his breath.
"For the last time I did not sleep with Ah'len!"
"Of course you didn't. You merely placed your fingers in telepathic granules and inexplicably became impregnated."
Trip stared at T'Pol. Was she joking? She had to be joking. "T'Pol, be reasonable. You've known me for how many years now? Do you really think I'd lie to you about this after all this time? You know I'm a professional."
"Professional like you were with Kaitaama?" T'Pol quirked a brow.
Trip rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. What good was this mating bond if he couldn't figure out whether or not she was trying to give him a good ribbing? "Really? Really, you wanna dredge all this up right now? You wanna talk about every girl I may or may not have slept with over the years?"
"Given your record, I can only surmise that the number is quite high."
What the hell? Could she really be this jealous? "Dammit, T'Pol! That's not fair and you know it-"
"As much as I enjoy watching you two banter like old times," Jon interrupted, "I don't think we're getting anywhere with this discussion."
"Cavorting with other species during first contact is typically not the best policy," Soval interjected.
Trip turned to the older Vulcan to find the ambassador appearing almost amused. Since when had the cranky old bastard developed a sense of humor? Trip glanced back at T'Pol, hoping he would see the same look in her eyes. No such luck. Her face was completely unreadable.
"For the record, I wasn't cavorting, " Trip said, heaving an exasperated sigh, "and I'm glad you're all getting a good laugh from this." How had this gone from being one of the best nights he'd had in years to one of the worst?
The four of them were crammed into the captain's small ready room, trying to figure out what to make of the bombshell that Ah'len had dropped. Trip wasn't thrilled that Soval was now party to this mess, not after finally earning some hard-won approval from the ambassador. And T'Pol? Well, there was no telling just how this little hiccup was going to affect their budding relationship. This damn bond was worthless if all it gave him was a little white-space daydreaming and immunity from the green Orion gals.
Aw hell.
Trip turned to the captain, silently begging him to say something to make this all better. Jon looked like he was trying to stifle a laugh. Great. Just great. "Cap'n, that's not my daughter. Even Phlox said that all the genetic material came from Ah'len. I mean, I only carried the embryo for a few days, for cryin' out loud!"
"Even so, Trip," Jon sighed, "Ah'len made it pretty clear that it was important that you attend the ceremony."
"So I have to travel however many light years to their home world for this kid I don't even know?"
"Refusal could have a negative impact on Earth's future interactions with Xyrillia," Soval commented casually. "There are times when it is necessary to sacrifice one's pride in order to secure productive relations with another species."
There was that tone again. Trip just knew that Soval was having a good guffaw on the inside. He was never, ever going to live this down. "Please tell me that you're at least comin', Cap'n."
Jon shrugged. "Sorry, Trip. Admiral Gardner has us on a pretty tight schedule. Xyrillia is a little too far out of the way." He stood. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm sending T'Pol along with you."
"Undoubtedly, a chaperone would be beneficial," she replied, raising her brow again, "since you seem to easily attract the attention of alien females." There. That had to be a joke.
Right?
"I believe I will come as well," Soval said before Trip could manage a retort. "It might be in Vulcan's best interest to learn more of these Xyrillians."
Jon smiled. "See, Trip, you won't be alone."
"Yeah, I feel better already." Trip's stomach twisted.
How could this get any worse?
A/N: Thank you for reading. If you want to pause and share your thoughts before rushing off to the next chapter, I'd be grateful!