—Chapter 08—
The next morning, T'Pol sneaked back to her suite though God only knew why she bothered. Aboard the Enterprise, every member of the crew knew almost immediately that T'Pol slept in Commander Tucker's quarters every night, and while Doctor Phlox's explanation that T'Pol was simply unable to sleep alone due to the anxiety brought on by Trellium poisoning bought Trip and T'Pol some time, there came a point where such excuses no longer held any validity, for it was clear that the two went out of their way to spend time together, and more so, the longer they knew each other, the more intimate their exchanges seemed even in public: private jokes, lingering glances, an 'accidental' touch here and there. No, although T'Pol's body language was more subtle than Trip's and so gave T'Pol a bit more deniability, no one aboard the Enterprise was fooled. As for their present circumstances, well, it did not differ in the least, for just as a ship had no secrets, neither did a hotel, and though the female staff was all atwitter over the romance between the handsome Commander Tucker, and the cool, restrained T'Pol, their 'secret' romance was considered a private matter.
As it was, T'Pol knew none of this, and so she congratulated herself on her cunning and her stealth, as she'd done since ever since she and Commander Tucker began their relationship, and as she began removing her clothes, T'Pol lost herself in thought.
When did we start our relationship? Is there a clear cut answer… Was it during our first sexual encounter? Or was it even before that, during the nights I woke screaming desperately as I relived the horror of the Seleya, only his touch, and the sound of his voice bringing me out of the madness of my mind… Or was it earlier still, when I lunged at him with knife in hand, and then retreated when defeated, only to be startled by the sight of the bluest eyes I had ever seen: they were my first hint that something had changed aboard the Seleya. Or was it perhaps later, when I thought him lost forever and I was sick with worry, and only Sim's brave sacrifice brought Trip back to me…
Snapping out of it, T'Pol sighed. No time to dredge up the past. She had things to do today. She finished stripping, then showered and clothed herself in the dress uniform StarFleet had provided for her, though she was not yet officially StarFleet. That would be rectified this day. She met Commander Tucker, and they soon fell in step with Captain Archer, the three soon followed by the rest of the Bridge crew, and then still more crew members of the Enterprise, until the entire crew of the Enterprise, was herded through the hotel, through the throngs outside and into a dozen limousines, all headed for StarFleet's open air auditorium, which was packed to maximum capacity, while another hundred thousand people thronged outside to view the large monitors which would display the proceedings inside. This crowd roared with delight as the limos passed through their lines and into the auditorium, and T'Pol took in the spectacle with amused detachment. A Vulcan crowd would never be this chaotic, but the joy she noted in the faces in the crowd as the limo passed them by, was gratifying to see. It was good that she had contributed, in a small part, to saving this planet from the Xindi's wrath.
Admiral Forrest knew very well that he was not the focus of the crowd, so after a brief introduction he called on Captain Archer, and the crowd roared their approval, only to fall silent when the captain commended the fallen from among the crew, and then the still living crew members, ending with the dozen some officers of the ship, and when he got to T'Pol the crowd rose to its feet once more and roared its approval once again. A short swearing in ceremony, and then T'Pol was StarFleet, followed by a special commendation for Doctor Phlox and another standing ovation which rivaled T'Pol's, and then more speeches by members of the crew, of which Trip's was generally acknowledged to be the most amusing, for the man could whip up a Southern accent and any number of gut busting stories at the drop of a dime.
A last good bye from the crew to the crowd, followed by a standing ovation and roar of approval which lasted until every limo had disappeared from sight, all headed for StarFleet's HQ building, and a meeting with the Admiralty Commission, which congratulated them all personally and pinned insignias of rank and promotion at their collars, along with a generous number of medals, for a well deserving crew. Once this private ceremony was concluded, each member of the Enterprise was granted four months of leave, and promised a great deal of latitude in the selection of their new assignments, once their leave was concluded.
The promotions handed out had been sweeping. Crewmen promoted to Ensigns, Ensigns to Lieutenants, Lieutenants to Commanders, Commander Tucker to Captain, and Captain Archer to Rear-Admiral, which was a bit premature, but not by much, given the man's achievements and long history of service to the fleet. As for T'Pol, she retained the rank of Commander, bestowed on her by Captain Archer, but smart money thought she'd be promoted to Captain after a couple of years with the fleet.
"Well, it's been nice knowing you, T'Pol," said Captain Tucker, much later that evening, after dining with the Bridge officers over a lengthy meal, and tossing back a pint or two afterwards. "We should savor these last days together."
The lithe Vulcan was mounted atop the man's back, and applying some of her specialized knowledge in the art of Vulcan neuro-pressure to relieve tension and bring focus to the man, in preparation for the continuation of the day's festivities into the night.
"What do you mean, Captain Tucker?" said T'Pol. "I was informed that we would be able to choose our own assignments and postings, when we return from our leave, as a reward for the strenuous nature of our mission in the Expanse, and the successful completion of that mission."
"And so?" said Trip, using T'Pol's typical response, and arching brow in fair imitation of the Vulcan.
"And so I will request assignment under your command," said T'Pol.
"I don't think that would be wise, T'Pol," said Trip. "Rather, we should treasure the memories of our passionate fling in the Expanse as we move on to other relationships an—"
T'Pol pressed a particular nerve ending in just the right way, and Trip yelped, as he'd felt the sensation of thousands of ants crawling on his body for a second, and then T'Pol bent down and bit his left ear gently.
"So," said T'Pol, "what are we doing with our leave? Going to see your parents? They should meet me. I will do my best to leave them with a good impression."
Trip's father had just undergone surgery when the Enterprise had returned, and Trip's parents had been unable to visit Trip with the other families, so it was up to Trip to visit them.
"No," said Trip, "I want to wait a bit, until the media circus dies down."
"So what than?" said T'Pol. "I have been curious about this Tahiti."
"I don't know about you," said Trip, "but I scored a couple of cabins to Vulcan, and you may not know this about me, but I love desert planets."
"Truly?"
"No, I hate them, but I have a feeling that Vulcan is going to be different."
"I am certain that you will love Vulcan," said T'Pol, excited, "and I am overdue for a visit home. My mother, T'Les, will be displeased with my decision to leave the High Command for StarFleet, but I am certain that you will charm her, as you have charmed me."
"Whoa, whoa, T'Pol," said Trip. "You want me to meet your mom? That's a big step."
"It must happen eventually, Captain," said T'Pol. "Family is very important to a Vulcan. You must dig deep and find the strength to meet my mother, and my clan."
"Why exactly must I do that, T'Pol?"
The Vulcan looked back at Trip with a skeptical look, and shook her head sadly as if acknowledging to herself that the man she'd chosen was truly dim witted, then said, "Must I truly explain that to you, Captain Tucker?"
"Only if you want me to understand."
"Be strong, Captain Tucker," said T'Pol, falling off Trip's back in order to curl up next to him, head on shoulder, hand on chest, leg tossed over possessively over the man. "What must be, must be. You can not avoid your destiny, and I am your destiny."
"What must be must be. You can not avoid your destiny," said Trip in a goofy voice, then laughed. "Yeah, ok, T'Pol. You're such a spaz!"
"To deny my words is to deny your very soul, Captain Tucker!"
Trip laughed at that even harder, and said, "Deny your very soul... Ok, I think you're having a stroke, or a seizure or something, T'Pol."
"Actually, I heard Crewman Morgan speaking to her fiance in such poetic words, and they seemed to be effective," said T'Pol, "so I thought to duplicate them, for your pleasure, and my gain."
"Well, good job, T'Pol. After hearing those words I want to marry you."
"Really?"
"No."
"I am beginning to hate you, Captain Tucker, and Vulcans should not allow such emotions to take root in their psyche."
Once their journey actually began, the passage to Vulcan started off dashingly for them both. Good cabins on the Vulcan passenger liner were upgraded to first class cabins, once T'Pol was recognized, as the story of the Seleya had been widely noted on the Vulcan newsnets. The accommodations were first class, and the cooks fantastic. Trip even struck up an unexpected though agreeable association with an aged Vulcan, formerly an engineer stationed aboard a now obsolete D'Tek'Far class patrol cruiser, and he and Trip spoke for hours at a time, while T'Pol meditated, and fretted over the inevitable meeting with her mother, for their relationship had not always been easy, and despite her wishes no trip lasts forever. The ship reached Vulcan, and T'Pol sighed. Time to face the music.