—Chapter 30 —
T'Pol rose in the morning, and the first thing she did was revise the number in her head. That number, now standing at five months and seventeen days, was the measure of time that her mate had been gone on his latest mission. How much longer would it be, before he returned?
Of slightly more concern, was the fact that for the past seventeen days, Commander Tucker had tamped down on his end of the Bond, essentially leaving her blind as to his condition and precluding their private meetings. She would have a good explanation for that fact from the Commander when he returned, of that she had no doubt!
With a sigh, T'Pol engaged in her customary morning routine. Shower, hot tea, meditation. Get ready, get dressed, hit the Mess Hall for a light breakfast, then a short walk to the Bridge. And it was during that walk that T'Pol received a surprise, for as she turned a corner, she saw the Bridge door open and Lieutenant Reed exit the Bridge in civilian clothes. Heart racing she approached the man. If he was here, was it possible that Commander Tucker was also on board? Perhaps on the Bridge, even now. Could he be that close? With the man's damned tamping down of his link to their Bond, it was impossible to know. But she would have an answer for that, oh, yes, she would!
"SubCommander," said Malcolm with a genuine smile as he and T'Pol drew closer, for he'd grown to consider the Vulcan a friend during their recent mission together into Syndicate space.
"Lieutenant Reed," said T'Pol, halting in her tracks, making it clear that she wished to speak to the man. "You are out of uniform."
"It's Lieutenant-Commander now, sir, and I'm off-duty for the next three days," said Malcolm.
"Congratulations," said T'Pol. "I am certain that your promotion was well deserved. I did not hear that you had returned. When did you board the Enterprise?"
"About 04:00, sir. I'm sure that given the ungodly hour, ah… no one wanted to disturb your sleep in order to notify you."
That cursed man! thought T'Pol. It was just like Trip to be considerate of her to a fault. As if I cared what time of day or night he returned, or that I would give a damn about sleep in the face of his return.
"I see," said T'Pol. "Has Commander Tucker returned with you, by any chance?"
"Yes, sir," said Lieutenant-Commander Reed. "He just left the Bridge, after speaking to Captain Archer."
"I did not happen to run into him yet. He is well?"
"He's just fine, SubCommander."
"And is he also relieved of duty for the next three days?"
"He is, SubCommander. We're both meant to have a short rest before returning to duty, and Commander Tucker is celebrating something quite special."
"What is that, Lieutenant-Commander Reed?"
"During the course of this mission, we found ourselves back in Syndicate space. Trip… that is to say, Commander Tucker, took the opportunity to marry Misri the dancer, and her younger sister, Havli. He brought them back to the ship and he's officially on a three day honeymoon, I guess."
T'Pol's heart stilled. Lieutenant-Commander Reed had said that in the most matter-of-fact voice, as if such madness was of no consequence. Certainly, she and Trip had never openly acknowledged their relationship, but many people had strong suspicions. Lieutenant-Commander Reed should definitely be aware of their relationship, given the time he had spent around them both.
"Married?" said T'Pol.
"Yes, sir."
"Married?!"
"Yes, sir."
"I see," said T'Pol, and she did indeed see, for this would explain why her 'mate' had tamped down on his side of the Bond. "Carry on."
"Yes, sir," said Malcom.
A moment later, T'Pol approached Captain Archer, in his Ready Room.
"Yes, T'Pol," said Archer.
"I have a favor to ask of you," said T'Pol, "if it would not greatly inconvenience you, Captain."
"I'm listening," said Archer, eyeing T'Pol.
"I was wondering if I might take the next three days off. I can make it up later, Captain."
"Yeah, sure," said Archer. "You're the hardest working crewman I have. It's not a problem, T'Pol."
"Thank you, Captain," said T'Pol, and turned smartly on her heels to leave the Bridge and find the good Commander: he had some explaining to do.
Jon waited until the SubCommnader had left the room, before he smiled, and said, "Go get him, T'Pol!"
"Computer," said T'Pol from the nearest console after leaving the Bridge, and the answering chime notified the SubCommander that the computer was awaiting her input. "Locate Commander Tucker."
"Commander Tucker is in Gymnasium 3," said the ship's computer.
"How long has he been there?"
"Eight point three minutes," answered the computer.
Eight point three minutes, thought T'Pol. He just got there. Gym 3 was basically an empty room, covered in impact mats. It was used for gymnastics training, combat training and the frequent boxing or wrestling matches which she knew saw quite a bit of money change hands, even though gambling was officially forbidden. After a brief stop to change into her workout clothes, T'Pol headed for Gym 3.
She entered Gym 3 minutes later, heart beating nicely with anticipation. Five men were in the gym, and one of them was Commander Tucker. The man actually had the temerity to smile at her, she noted, and this after worrying her for five months and seventeen days, and topped off by the outrage of returning with two Orions wenches to warm his bed!
"Clear the room," said T'Pol, standing poised and serene.
Everyone moved for the door, Commander Tucker among them, as if she would actually allow him to make his escape! The man was only digging a deeper grave for himself with his antics!
"Not you, Commander Tucker," said T'Pol, who had eyes only for Trip as the other crewmen passed her. "You stay."
When the room was cleared, save for the two of them, T'Pol moved to the wall console.
"Computer,"said T'Pol, and the computer chimed in response. "Seal the room."
The chime confirmed that Gym 3 was now sealed, ensuring that no one would walk in on them, and interrupt their discussion. Now she had the privacy needed to deal with her rebellious mate.
"You have been absent for five months and seventeen days, Commander Tucker, and yet, when you finally returned, you did not see fit to pay visit to your mate, who was worried sick about you this whole time. Why is that, Commander Tucker?"
"We got in kind of early, T'Pol," said Trip with a winning smile, "and I didn't want to wake you."
T'Pol turned a jaded eye on Trip, ignoring the man's smile, for she was having none of it.
"I will accept that, Commander Tucker, though I say you should have awakened me, just the same. I assure you that your return means more to me than a few hours of lost sleep," said T'Pol. "But then, you know I wake at 06:00 hours, and yet, I did not see you at that time either."
"I was actually hoping to surprise you after your shift, T'Pol, when we could really show our appreciation for the other in a most agreeable way. I swore everyone to silence, but the fact that you knew I was aboard tells me you ran into Malcolm."
"I did... You seem to have all the answers today, Commander, so I have one more question. What you have brought back with you from Syndicate space?"
"Question, questions, SubCommander. I came here to train," said Trip, with a smile.
Though T'Pol longed to taste her mate, the man's reserve after not seeing his mate for five months and seventeen days, was infuriating, and lent credence to the theory that he had indeed returned to the Enterprise with two Orions wenches in tow.
"You want to train, Commander?" said T'Pol, closing to between 11 and 11.2 feet of the Commander. "Let us train."
They used to come here to practice their unarmed combat skills a couple of times a week before this latest mission, and though the Commander had some nice moves, he was outclassed by T'Pol's Vulcan strength and training.
Trip stripped his bulky sweat shirt and slid out of his long sweat pants. T'Pol's eyes widened involuntarily, her pupils dilated.
Although she'd always found the man attractive as he was, he'd changed in the past five months. His increased musculature was noticeable, most agreeably so. It was nothing freakish, but he'd put on twenty to thirty pounds of muscle, and spread out across his body it gave the Commander an even more athletic look. She would have to encourage him to maintain it, that is unless he was truly married to a couple of Orion sisters. In that case his newly discovered athletic look was unimportant, for she would kill him with her bare hands.
T'Pol closed the distance between them in a rush in order to aim a low front kick at the Commander's stomach. The Commander's usual response had been to fall back and regroup, but this time he neatly sidestepped T'Pol kick, and hooked her supporting foot with his own, while pushing forcefully forwards on her torso, then down into the mat. T'Pol went down, but almost as soon as her back hit the mat, she rolled backwards to gain her feet.
She was wary now. Perhaps muscle was not all that her mate had gained during his absence. She closed the distance more carefully now, until she saw an opening in his guard. She rushed forward, only to realize at the last moment that the Commander had invited the attack by purposely leaving a hole in his guard, a purported weakness, to tempt her. Despite her superior strength, the Commander used leverage to his advantage,
gained control of her lead hand for a moment, and she felt his foot gently tap against the side of her knee. He could have broken her knee with a more forceful kick.
"What HAVE you been up to in the past five months and seventeen days, Commander?" said T'Pol. "Your skills have improved."
"Maybe you've just gotten soft in my absence, SubCommander," said Trip, circling her like a shark, calmly looking for an opening, for although T'Pol was formidable, she was less than the 200+ pound Vulcan marines that had been beating the crap out of him on a daily basis for the past five months.
"And whose fault is that?" said T'Pol, a hint of emotion in her voice. "You abandoned me without even telling me why!"
"You know very well that I was not briefed on the mission until after I'd left the Enterprise, and I did not abandon you, T'Pol," said Trip. "I went for a purpose that I'm sure you'll find most agreeable, and I came back with a surprise I believe you will appreciate."
'A surprise? He can't mean those two Orion hussies of his! He just can't!' thought T'Pol. 'I will not share my mate!'
She closed the distance with her mate once again, in a controlled manner, exploding only at the last second, yet the Commander blended with her charge and guided her body and thus channeled her energy, until he suddenly reversed directions, bringing T'Pol to the ground in a neatly done maneuver and after a few moments of grappling, T'Pol found herself on her back, the Commander beneath her. His legs were hooked over her thighs, while his left hand was hooked over her throat and secured by his right hand. T'Pol had no choice. She tapped.
Trip released T'Pol and a moment later they resumed their maneuvers. She noted that the Commander now possessed the state which Vulcans called skon'ta, a continual state of relaxed awareness. Trip had expressed that quality in attack or defense even before this latest mission, but in between those two states there was a slackness, an undesirable gap in awareness that allowed T'Pol to bypass Trip's defenses quite often, if she staggered her timing to an unpredictable tempo. Skon'ta was an instinctive awareness that came of careful instruction and long hours in training, bypassing the conscious mind and allowing creativity, training and focus to control the back and forth flow of the fight. T'Pol had also noted the indirect approach which the Commander had brought to the fight. It seemed tailor made to fight a stronger opponent, and his instructors had been good, very good.
Let's see how good, thought T'Pol, and truly focused on winning now. She adjusted her range with care and closed with Commander Tucker at a staggered tempo meant to confuse him, but he made the adjustment without mistake, so T'Pol went for broke. She jumped at Trip, correctly anticipated his response and got past his defenses to land a solid, open handed blow to his chest. The strike knocked Trip backwards and off his feet.
My point, thought T'Pol, and went in for the kill, only to be checked as Trip kicked out from the ground and landed a solid hit on the shin of T'Pol's lead leg. T'Pol went down and Trip pounced atop her like a leopard. She put him in her guard, her legs wrapped around his torso, and that's when things went south, for Trip started peppering T'Pol's face with kisses. This was definitely not a standard offensive move, and it was not a move which T'Pol was trained to resist, but she had to be strong, until they settled the issue with the Orion sisters.
"Your place, or mine, SubCommander?" said Trip, chipping at T'Pol's resolve.
"What?"
"You heard me. Your place or mine?"
"No, no," said T'Pol. "We have to talk about the Orions."
Trip said, "We can talk about Orions later."
"No, no, Commander Tucker. We have to talk about them now."
"Ok," said Trip, in between kisses. "What about the Orions?"
"Lieutenant-Commander Reed told me about Misri and Havli. How could you do that to me? To us!"
"Tell me quickly what you're speaking of, T'Pol."
T'Pol got Malcolm's story out in between Trip's kisses, but just barely, for his kisses were intoxicating, and his familiar and possessive touch of her body threatened her emotional control beyond all reason. When it all came together for Trip, he started laughing, and laughing, and laughing, only to eventually roll off T'Pol and onto the floor, a helpless mess, red faced, coughing and gasping for breath, and as T'Pol witnessed this sequence of events, she realized she'd been taken for a ride, and swore a terrible vow of vengeance against Lieutenant-Commander Reed.