A/N: I forgot to mention that I've done a bit of revising to bring this up to my current abilities, but the changes aren't major.

CHAPTER TWO
Welcome Back Tucker

Malcolm stood outside Commander Tucker's quarters. He'd drawn the short straw, so to speak, and was sent to see if there were any more details to be gleaned from the engineer about his unusual away mission. It probably helped that he had Trip's confidence and the Commander was likely to reveal more to Malcolm than to Hoshi or Travis.

"Come in" Trip's dejected voice came over the speaker.

When the door slid open, Malcolm stepped in to see Trip stuffing clothes into his duffel bag with more force than he needed. The engineer glanced up at his guest and looked visibly relieved.

"Hey, Malcolm."

"Mind if I keep you company while you pack?"

Trip shrugged. "Have a seat."

"So, this is interesting," Malcolm began as he sat at the desk. "It's not every day when an old girlfriend shows up claiming you have a child, is it?"

Trip shot him a withering look. "Ah'len was never my girlfriend and that is not my kid."

"Are you certain? I seem to remember you being knocked up."

"Malcolm..."

Malcolm ignored the warning in Trip's voice. "You never did tell me how that came about. I mean, if you were never, well, on the job."

Trip heaved a sigh and sat on his bunk. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Malcolm grinned. "Not if I can help it."

"Let's just say there was a box of pebbles. We both stuck our fingers in it, and then we could read each other's minds." Trip ran his hand through his hair. "That's it. Next thing I know I've got a baby Xyrillian growin' between my ribs."

"That's all? You stick your hands in a box of rocks and bob's your uncle?"

"Yep."

"It doesn't sound like a particularly exciting way to get pregnant."

Trip smirked. "You think?"

Malcolm raised his brows in agreement. "What does our resident Vulcan think of all this?"

Trip's eyes were suddenly hooded. "What do you mean?"

"I wonder if she's jealous of your past escapades."

Trip stood and returned to his packing. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You aren't seriously saying you and T'Pol haven't rekindled your relationship?" Malcolm asked. "What about that thing with the Orions? It was odd that both of you were immune when the rest of the ship was positively bonkers."

Trip glared back at him. "We're just friends, Mal. Nothing's changed."

"I don't know, Commander. The way you two look at each other-"

"Drop it." Trip cut him off with a pointed look.

Malcolm raised his hands. "Well in that case, might I suggest you pack your dress uniform?" He stood and pulled the clothing from Trip's closet, holding them out to the engineer. "It's always best to be prepared."

Trip grunted his thanks and grabbed the uniform.

"I suppose I ought to let you finish your work here," Malcolm said as he made his way to the door. "And, Commander, try not to get pregnant again while you're there."

Trip shot him a wry expression. "Ha, ha, Mal. Very funny."

Malcolm gave him his widest smile. "I aim to please, sir," he said as the door slid shut.

He only wished he could be there when T'Pol met Ah'len in person. Now that would be something to see, wouldn't it?

T'Pol knelt before her meditation candle, attempting to calm the conflicting emotions that stormed inside of her. Before the surprise visit from the Xyrillians, T'Pol had rediscovered a peace that she had only recently come to see had been missing while Commander Tucker was on board the Columbia.

No, not Commander Tucker, but Trip. Her Trip.

Or at least she had hoped. Logic dictated that she and Trip have a more in depth conversation to explore what this mating bond meant for them. Logic dictated that, before they engaged in a physical relationship, they set clear parameters regarding the joining of their katras. Logic had much to say on the matter of their potential future and how best to proceed. Unfortunately, logic had a baffling way of fleeing whenever she was near Trip.

Then there was the matter of that other female laying claim to him, even if only through the child. The rational side of her recognized that Trip had spoken the truth. She could not deny the faint touch of frustration, embarrassment and despair that emanated from him through their unique connection. He had never been intimate with this Ah'len; the child was not his even though he had carried it, however briefly. And yet...

And yet, T'Pol had suppressed the fact that Trip had been intimate with others in the past. Now that she was confronted with one such female, whom many on the Enterprise believed he had shared an intimacy with, she was forced to accept the sobering knowledge that she had not been Trip's first. There was also the distinct possibility that, due to his human nature, T'Pol might not be his last.

She found the reminder of their different mating practices most disagreeable.

Unbidden, the memory of her recent conversation with Soval surfaced, momentarily drawing her attention away from these dark thoughts.

"Nu'ri-veh," he said as they left the captain's room. "Do you not think you were unnecessarily severe with Commander Tucker?"

His gentle reproach was unexpected. "I don't understand," she said.

"Truly?" Soval stopped and faced her more fully, studying her with sharp eyes. "I have come to know the commander to be an honorable man. Your interaction with him has implied otherwise. Am I mistaken regarding his character?"

T'Pol's jaw involuntarily tightened. "You are not mistaken," she admitted with no small amount of shame welling up inside of her.

He raised a brow, giving her a searching gaze again. "I choose not to ask what might have provoked this negative emotional response," he replied, "but I suggest that you remember that Commander Tucker is human. You do him a disservice when you expect him to behave as a Vulcan would: past, present or in the future to come."

T'Pol nodded her understanding but said nothing. There was no appropriate response to his honest censure. In silence, they began again to walk down the corridor as T'Pol pondered how deeply she had allowed herself to be affected by the Ah'len's presence.

"Nu'ri-veh," Soval spoke again, pulling her from her reverie. "You must meditate." With those final words, they parted ways.

Her elder had been right. She had not been fair to Trip. Though he'd had past dalliances with other females, he had always been a "gentleman," as he termed it. He never disclosed his exploits as other humans seemed to, even when goaded by his peers. She found his discretion appealing. It was very Vulcan.

Despite knowing this-knowing him to be a human of great honor-T'Pol could not entirely stifle the intense jealousy and fear that had swollen in her middle when looking into the face of Ah'len. It was jealousy that another female, any other female, had once held Trip's rapture, even if it had been long ago and fleeting. The fear, on the other hand, was that his fondness for T'Pol might be just as transient.

That would not do at all.

Something inside of her whispered that his affection for her ran far deeper than she might suspect. T'Pol was not certain if that thin thread of hope came from the bond they shared or was merely the voice of her own desperate wish. It was difficult to decipher what came from Trip and what came from the recesses of her own mind. The bond had thus far proven to have been only mildly useful, if at all. Would this always be so?

T'Pol folded these puzzling thoughts away. There was only one conclusion she could draw from all of this. She would not continue any further intimate contact with Trip until they had defined the boundaries of their relationship-no matter how much she desired his touch.

She blew out the candle before her. Meditation had been singularly unsuccessful; further effort would be futile.

Trip woke up groggy and felt like he'd been bowled over by a shuttlepod. Damn, that was the strangest dream, he thought as he rubbed his eyes. There was something about the Xyrillians saying he had a kid. And T'Pol was pissed or teasing him, he couldn't be certain. Soval was there too, laughing. None of it made any sense to Trip. His imagination had sure come up with a doozy this time.

He stretched his arms and legs lazily, his eyes still shut. Why did it feel like he'd been holed up in a Jeffries tube for hours? His body ached in ways that said that last night's sleep hadn't been restful at all. He really should take up T'Pol on her offer to resume their neuropressure sessions.

Wait!

Trip's sat bolt upright. He was in an open room surrounded by mossy walls and large, bright red recliners. It wasn't a dream after all. No, it was one huge waking nightmare. Trip wanted to close his eyes and make it all go away.

He felt a tingle as a hand gently pushed him back into the recliner he was on. "Don't get up too quickly," a familiar feminine voice said. "You're still adjusting to the environment."

His gaze followed the hand to its owner. Ah'len. She was sitting next to him, holding a bowl of those weird water cubes. Trip mustered a polite smile.

"Here," she said, picking up one of the clear cubes, "you are dehydrated." She held it out expectantly, waiting for him to open his mouth.

Behind her, at the opening of the alcove, T'Pol watched them with a brow that climbed the length of her forehead. "Uh, thanks," Trip muttered to Ah'len, "but I think I can handle it myself, if you don't mind." He took the cube from her fingers and popped it into his mouth.

"Of course." She handed him the bowl, looking a little disappointed. "When you are refreshed, perhaps you could help us repair our teraphasic coils? The trip home will take months if we don't have warp drive."

That was just what he needed, months cooped up on this small ship with Ah'len, this kid who didn't belong to him-no matter what anyone said-and two Vulcans watching the whole thing. "Yeah, sure. I'd be happy to take a look."

Ah'len smiled at him. "I'll be in the engineering room. I'm sure you remember the way." She stood up and walked away, nodding at T'Pol as she passed the petite Vulcan.

Trip sat up and ate a few more of the water cubes. They were strange things, the way they seemed to melt as soon as they touched his tongue. Sweet too. It reminded him of the spring water he drank as a child in Florida. Someday he'd have to figure out how they made these things.

"Have you rested adequately?" T'Pol's voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up at her, studying her face for any hint of how she felt about all of this craziness. Still nothing. And nothing from the bond too, at least not anything that he could pick up anyway.

"I'm not saying I could go ten rounds with Muhammad Ali, but yeah, I'm all right." His body still felt creaky from being stuck in that tiny decompression chamber with her and Soval for so long.

"Good. Trena'l says that if the warp drive is repaired, the journey to their home world will be approximately three days."

"Yeah, I'm on it." You have no idea how on it I am. He stood up. "It might go a little quicker if you give me a hand."

She nodded. "Perhaps I can be of assistance." Without another word, she turned to leave.

Trip felt like there was a huge, ugly elephant in the room, and he couldn't stand not pointing it out. "Wait, T'Pol." She turned back to him, gazing at him expectantly. He walked up to her and spoke in a low voice. "Are we gonna talk about this?"

"This?" She canted a brow and, for the first time since this whole fiasco began, Trip could see a haunting vulnerability in her eyes.

"You know," he nearly whispered, trying to find the right words, "how this, Ah'len and this kid-hell, maybe all kinds of stuff from our pasts-affects us?" Please tell me there still is an 'us', he prayed silently, knowing just how flighty T'Pol could be, crazy Vulcan bond or not.

She studied his face, her deep olive eyes expressing so much that Trip couldn't quite read. "Yes," she answered finally, "but not at this time." She held his gaze for a moment longer before she turned and left the room.

Trip wasn't sure if it came from the bond or not, but his gut told him that she might not be anxious to call it quits on their relationship just yet. Well, at least that's something. He didn't know how their discussion would turn out, but Trip had a feeling that everything would be alright.

Now he just needed to get these engines fixed so his embarrassing Xyrillian nightmare would be closer to finally ending.

A/N: Thank you, as ever, for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts thus far!