Disclaimer: I don't own this world.

Rating: R for sex and angst.

Chapter 4

Three weeks later, Malcolm sat in T'Pol's ready room. She had called him there for unspecified reasons.

"I wanted to show you something," said T'Pol, who pulled up a record on the screen. It was the record of one of the orphans that would be arriving on The Endeavor.

"Her name is Lily St. John, and she is five earth years old and was born in Bristol, England. She's the only British child among the orphans."

Malcolm looked at the blond little girl with the chubby cheeks, holding a poppy flower. The way she was smiling, he assumed the photograph had been taken before her parents had died.

"Why are you showing this to me?"

"President Borges believes that the orphans should be placed among people who understand their cultural traditions. As you know, there are very few British survivors living on Ceti Alpha V. I wanted to ask you if you would like to take over the caretaker role for this child."

Malcolm sat back in his chair. He hadn't expected this.

"Captain," he said looking at the photograph, "I don't know what to say. I. . .I mean, I'm still a bachelor and. . ."

"You told me last week that you had decided to mate with Corporal Cole. I assumed that was still your plan."

"Date, I said date," responded Malcolm, "but it's only been a few weeks."

T'Pol nodded, as though she was reminding herself that human courtship was radically different from Vulcan courtship.

"There is no need for an immediate decision," said T'Pol, "She will not arrive for at least three weeks. Perhaps you would like to think about it and discuss the matter with Corporal Cole."

Malcolm nodded.

"How did things go with Captain Archer today?" he asked. He, Hoshi and Trip all had a pact to make sure that T'Pol didn't have to deal with the former captain's illness alone.

"I didn't tell him the entire truth today," she said, "that made it easier on both him and me."

Malcolm nodded.

"Hoshi told me she's going to take over tomorrow's shift to give you a break."

"Yes," said T'Pol stiffly, "She has proved most capable of handing the situation."

"Is there anything else, Captain?"

"No, Mr. Reed. You are dismissed."

****

The next meeting of the senior bridge staff involved discussing plans for the ten children that would be living on Enterprise. Hoshi volunteered to coordinate their schooling, and T'Pol was working on a plan to reconfigure some of the crew quarters so that the children could live in the same space as their adoptive parents.

"We should reconfigure Cargo Bay 3 into a playground," said Trip.

T'Pol was puzzled. Vulcans had no word for playground.

"Human kids need a big wide open space to play," explained Trip, "They'll need to expend energy, especially since they will be living cooped up on a starship."

"Perhaps you and your crew could make the design changes," said T'Pol.

"That will be fun," said Trip, who was already thinking of various ways he could fabricate a merry-go-round.

T'Pol noticed his enthusiasm, and how his mood had brightened since the news of the children's arrival.

****

Later that night, Trip and T'Pol were curled up in bed together. Trip ran his fingers through her dark hair.

"Do you wish to find a human mate? One you could have a child with? Although, our bond cannot be severed, I would do my best to release you if you wished."

Trip sat up in bed.

"Where did that come from?"

"There are very few humans left. It is only natural that you would wish to seek a mate with whom you could procreate."

T'Pol sensed anger in him. She hadn't expected that.

"T'Pol," he said, "The last thing I want is to purposely bring a child into this hellish existence. It wouldn't be fair. I know there are others that don't feel the same as me. . .want to repopulate and all. . .but I could never bring a kid into this place on purpose."

She said nothing, but he sensed she was both relieved and sad. He laid back down next to her, so they were facing one another.

"Plus I'm not interested in anyone else but you," he said, "You're my . . .you're the only one. . ."

He didn't finish.

"I'm glad of that, Thy'la."

"What does that mean?"

T'Pol reached up and entwined her fingers into his.

"It roughly translates to beloved."

He smiled at her, his earlier anger gone. She knew he understood, through their bond, how difficult it was for her to offer to release him, but that it was fundamentally Vulcan to want to sacrifice for a greater good. What she had offered was an expression of love.

"We'll have no more talk of you releasing me," said Trip, "and for the record, I've got no intention of releasing you."

****

Two weeks later, T'Pol sat across from Malcolm and Amanda.

"I must perform the ceremony?" asked T'Pol.

"You're the captain," replied Malcolm, amused that this human tradition was unknown to his Vulcan captain.

"Surely, there is someone else. . "

"There's no one else, Captain," said Amanda, "Malcolm and I never would have met if we hadn't both been serving on this ship. We want her Captain to marry us, and preferably before Lily arrives."

"Then I will be honored," said T'Pol, "Tell me which human ceremony you prefer, and I will study it."

"The one used in the British Navy will do," said Malcolm, "I'll send it to you."

"Thank you, and congratulations to you both."

The couple then turned and left. T'Pol then scrolled through the files of the other nine children that were to come aboard the Enterprise. Six were American and three were Canadian - all native speakers of English between the ages for five and ten. Five boys and five girls. One boy was Japanese-American, and Hoshi had agreed to adopt him.

****

T'Pol sat in the Captain's mess, and across from her sat Jonathan Archer. She had told him the full story today, and he had been peppering her with questions for the last hour. She had patiently answered, but her allotted time was coming to an end. As captain, she had many duties.

"I'm sure Travis could help you understand what the needs of children in deep space will be," said Archer enthusiastically.

"Ensign Mayweather is dead," said T'Pol, "He was killed in a battle with the Xindi."

Archer closed his eyes. Of all the dead crewmembers, he usually took Travis's death the hardest. T'Pol thought maybe she should have lied about that, but she tended to tell all lies or the whole truth. She wasn't good at keeping in-betweens straight in her head.

"Tomorrow there will be a wedding in the mess hall," said T'Pol, "Lt. Commander Reed and Corporal Amanda Cole have decided to marry. There have also been many weddings on the surface," said T'Pol.

"That's nice," said Archer.

"Humans are resilient," said T'Pol, "and many wish to try and move forward, despite the difficult circumstances. Do you wish to attend?"

"I won't know about it tomorrow," said Archer.

"Do you believe you would like to attend?"

"Yes," said Archer, "but let's see how I take the news tomorrow."

T'Pol finished the last bites on her plate. She stood up.

"Captain," she said, "I must return to my post."

"You're the Captain," said Archer, "You don't need my permission."

She nodded in acknowledgement of this fact, but both Archer and T'Pol knew that she would have done anything for it not to be so.

****

It was rare these days, that the crew could wear their dress uniforms. So, they all took the Reed/Cole wedding as an opportunity to do so. Only the bride wore civilian clothes, a white dress that she had borrowed from a friend. She had flowers from the hydroponic garden both in her upswept hair and in a bouquet, and chef had even made a cake. Trip served as best man, with Major Hayes giving the bride away and another female MACO, Corporal McKenzie was the maid of honor.

"You may kiss the bride," said T'Pol ceremoniously. The room erupted in applause and the party began. The energy in the room was bittersweet, but most people had resolved to try and be happy. T'Pol had never witnessed a human wedding, let alone performed one, and she watched the various rituals in fascination. Vulcan weddings were solemn, family affairs that did not involve dancing or drinking or toasts.

She sat in the corner, and eventually Trip approached her, two glasses of beer in his hand. He sat next to her and handed her one of the glasses. Wine wasn't yet possible, but the colonists had started to brew beer. A keg had been brought up from the surface for the celebration.

"It's too bad Captain Archer couldn't join us," said Trip.

Unlike the previous day, this day had been unpleasant. Phlox had needed to sedate Archer, as he had assumed the story of his illness was a Xindi deception.

"Yes," said T'Pol, still watching Malcolm and Amanda dancing.

"Phlox is going to return to Denobula," continued T'Pol, "He believes he'll have a better chance and finding a cure there."

Trip's face fell, and she sensed disappointment but not surprise.

"I can't say I blame him," said Trip, "He's stayed with us longer than I expected he would. He's got a life and family back on his homeworld."

T'Pol nodded. She looked at Trip, knowing he would never be happy on Vulcan. She had thought of suggesting they go there if Archer were ever cured, but no matter how unhappy he was he wouldn't abandon his people. And she knew her place was among the humans. As a Vulcan who had formed a matebond with a human, she would be no more accepted by her people than Trip.

They had been very careful about showing affection to one another in public, though they both knew that most of the crew were aware of their relationship. But as he watched the newlyweds together, smiling and laughing as if the world wasn't on the verge of ending, Trip took T'Pol's hand in his. Without even thinking, she placed her head on his shoulder and continued to watch her crew celebrate. If anyone among the crew noticed, they didn't seem to care.

****

A week later Malcolm was taking a break from his work in the armory to head down to the quartermaster's shop. He had put in a special request two weeks earlier, and he had just been messaged that it was ready. When he was there, he found Trip supervising the fabrication of some conduits.

"Good afternoon, Commander," said Malcolm.

"Hello, Mr. Reed," said Trip, "How's married life treating you?"

"Fine," said Malcolm, "Except that Amanda has decided to redecorate our quarters. She wants to paint the interior seafoam green and yellow. I suspect it's a Florida thing."

Trip laughed.

"We do love our pastels in Florida," said Trip, "Did love, I mean."

Malcolm walked over to the table where various requests had been fulfilled. He opened a box and pulled out a classic Teddy Bear.

"What do you think?" said Malcolm.

"Wow," said Trip, "It never ceases to amaze me what fine work is done here."

The quartermaster smiled but said nothing, well-used to compliments these days.

"Amanda wanted me to order her some clothes first, but I remember caring far more for toys than clothes when I was five," said Malcolm, who paused for a moment, "It's not going to be easy. Amanda and I know that she'll be missing her real parents. A teddy bear won't fix things, but it will be a start. And Amanda's already planning on decking our cabin up for an English-style Christmas."

"It should be less than a week now," said Trip, "You and Amanda better make use of your alone time until then."

Malcolm walked over to Trip and examined his work on the conduits. The quartermaster was excellent, but Trip was no slouch.

"We have been," said Malcolm sheepishly, "You never told me what fun Florida girls are."

Malcolm looked around to see if anyone else was in earshot.

"How are things with you and the Captain?" asked Malcolm.

Trip paused. It was a strange question for some reason.

"We're taking it day by day," he said, "but it's different for Vulcans."

"This may sound like a personal question," said Malcolm, "but I heard they only have sex every seven years."

Trip shook his head.

"Not in my recent experience," he said blushing a little, though he made a mental note that he would have to discuss Vulcan mating with T'Pol.

"That must be a relief to you," said Malcolm, "and frankly every seven years would be a severe waste with a beautiful woman like T'Pol."

"I'll say," said Trip, half-smiling.

****

Later that night, a naked Trip was sprawled on the floor of his cabin with a naked T'Pol collapsed on top of him. As her breathing began to return to normal, he brushed a damp clump of hair from her face and kissed the tip of her nose.

"May I ask you a question?"

She nodded.

"I thought Vulcans only had sex every seven years. We've had it most every day for weeks. Is the only seven years thing just a rumor?"

T'Pol's cheeks turned a pale green color, and he realized she was blushing. She buried her face in his shoulder.

"Vulcans experience a mating cycle every seven years. During this time we are required to mate or be overcome by the blood fever. However, we can experience sexual arousal outside of the mating cycle, as I have with you."

He could feel how difficult this was for her to talk about. Vulcans can be so prudish, thought Trip. He also understood, though the bond, what she wasn't telling him - how forceful and aggressive this mating ritual was.

"I was just curious. . .will you go through this mating cycle soon?"

"I don't know," she said, "Vulcan females experience the blood fever in concert with their mates. Because I am bonded with you, I don't know if or when I will experience it."

Trip thought about this, and something dawned on him.

"So, do you get turned on when I am? Because of this bond?"

She nodded.

"I have found it fascinating how often you - and I would assume all human males - experience desire. It is a wonder you get anything done."

"It's all about time management," said Trip, but he was really thinking about the Vulcan mating cycle. "So, tell me, what happens if you don't mate during the blood fever?"

"You die," said T'Pol.

"What?"

"There are other ways to satisfy the blood fever. . . but they are uncommon. A fight to the death. ."

"What?"

She squeezed him tight, clinging to him. That was odd. She was clearly rattled by the discussion.

"Trip, Vulcans don't discuss this with off worlders. . "

"I understand that. . .but this concerns me."

"If the pon farr comes upon me, we will simply need to engage in sexual relations. Perhaps more aggressively than normal, but that should be all I require of you. . ."

"Okay, baby," he said.

He knew that she had initially expected sex between them to be more violent than it was, and now he was understanding why. No wonder Vulcans never talked about this. The fact that they were into rough sex sure punctured their high-and-mighty image.

"It is also possible you may experience the blood fever, at least partially, due to our bond."

Trip took a deep breath. He didn't like the idea of losing control or possibly hurting her.

"Because you are not Vulcan, it will likely not be nearly as dangerous for you. . "

"Okay," he said, "We'll deal with it if and when it comes along."

****

T'Pol and Trip stood formally at the airlock, waiting to greet the new arrivals. Just behind them stood Malcolm and Amanda, less formally and more nervously. T'Pol, in discussions with a human psychologist on the surface, had decided that the children would meet their new caregivers individually. Malcolm and Amanda, in deference to his being a senior officer, were going first.

Soval would be personally escorting the children chosen to live on Enterprise onto the ship. He also wanted to speak with T'Pol, no doubt to try and convince her to return to Vulcan yet again. He appeared in the doorway alongside a tiny human girl clutching a backpack, the one T'Pol had seen in the picture.

T'Pol nodded at Soval and gestured to Malcolm and Amanda. The child's transfer should be the first priority.

Soval spoke to the girl.

"Lily, this is Lt. Commander Reed and his wife Corporal Cole," said Soval.

Malcolm knelt next to the child.

"You can call me Malcolm," he said, "and you can call her Amanda."

The little girl smiled when she heard his accent.

"Hello," she said, very British-ly.

"It's wonderful to meet you. Amanda and I would like to show you your room. Then, we'll get you something to eat. Would you like that?"

Lily nodded.

"Yes, sir," she said softly.

Amanda held out her hand, and the little girl took it.

"It's very nice to meet you, Lily," she said.

Malcolm stood up and took Lily's other hand and the new family disappeared down the corridor.

This ritual was repeated multiple times over, finally culminating in Hoshi carrying a sleeping five-year old boy back to her quarters.

"Soval," said T'Pol finally turning to her former superior, "Our chef has prepared a meal in your honor. Please dine with us in the Captain's mess."

"Thank you, T'Pol."

Trip was irritated that he didn't address her as Captain, but he said nothing. He simply followed the two Vulcans toward the turbolift.

****

Several hours later, T'Pol alone escorted Soval back to the airlock.

"You won't reconsider? Not this time?"

"My obligations are here."

T'Pol locked eyes with Soval. She wondered if he had guessed that she had bonded with Commander Tucker. If he had, he hadn't indicated as such.

"Your loyalty is admirable but misplaced. They are a dying people."

T'Pol responded by lifting her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute.

"Live long and prosper," said T'Pol.

Soval responded in kind.

"Live long and prosper, T'Pol."

He turned and headed into his shuttle. T'Pol had no regrets as the door closed behind him.