'Pi Day'
Trip awoke from a dream, in which T'Pol had brought some sweet-sweet pie to his cabin...
Two nights before, the dream was of him as a private 'dick' (detective), visiting a fancy night club, on Bellatrix 3.
One lovely Orion dancer had come to chat, after her performance. Tiny green-tinted beads of sweat on her brow,
lovely neck, and cleavage. Trip ordered drinks, then some star-fruit canapes... The android waiter kept coming
back, every 3.14159 minutes... "Is everything OK?" he'd inquire. The girl said nothing... Trip piped up:
"Thanks... but can ya' make like the trees - and please, leaves us... alone?" The waiter promptly left.
Awaking from that dream, Trip decided to stop reading that old Mickey Spillane paperback that had
been shared among several male crew members... and pass it on to Malcolm. "Why... Thank-You, Trip!"
Malcolm said, with a huge smile... while looking at the lurid cover showing a detective and a scantily clad
blonde 'lady-of-the-evening'. "This will make those occasional sleepless nights a bit more cozy!" he added.
After some similar dreams, Trip was starting to wonder if he was going 'space happy'?
He read some medico-neurology-dream theory info in the medical database, on the
Enterprise computers... He just wasn't ready to consult with Dr. Phlox - not quite yet.
"Dang... Sending messages to those girls way back home in Florida just isn't much fun, lately... It just ain't
the same, as having a conversation with someone right before your starry eyes... a living, breathing... Nope!"
Next dream was of T'Pol… in his bed. No pie, just her. And she was green!
Trip awoke in a sweat. At next meal, T'Pol brought over a slice of pie. Green.
"I had the chef make it special... Key Lime pie!" she said. "Happy Pi Day!"