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"Oopsy Daisies"
by A. Rhea King

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own them, CBS/Paramount does.
Genre: Humor
Description: Trip and T'Pol's relationship hits a bump. Trip and his friend get busted for a bar brawl. Dogs will be dogs. A stairway to heaven? Navta is convinced she's going to die now, and Archer isn't prepared for this talk.


Trouble On The Homefront (1)
After ‘Escape Velocity’

The bridge was silent and the crew scarcely dared to breathe. The tension was creating an awful stench to T’Pol’s sense of smell, but she wasn’t about to change her position. And from the look of anger on Trip’s face, neither was he.

“This ain’t our mission,” Trip snarled at T’Pol.

“I am aware of our mission. It was a pre-warp civilization, Lieutenant-Commander Tucker.”

“We could have just stopped and looked in, T’Pol.”

“You will address me as Sub-Commander,” T’Pol sharply reminded him, hinting at the irritation she was fighting to keep under check.

“We’re going back. Travis—”

“You are not in command, Commander.”

Sub-Commander,” Trip growled, “we are going back to—”

“You will stand down and return to your post or I will order you to the brig,” T’Pol said, carefully drawing herself into rigid composure. Inside she was half tempted to give into him, but she couldn’t. She had a responsibility and duty and she wasn’t about to abandon all of her teachings for an emotion, even if part o her told her Trip was right about this matter. Again.

Trip’s hands clenched into fists and again there was silence.

“FINE!” Trip turned and stormed to the lift.

T’Pol walked around to the Captain’s chair and sat down.

“Resume course, Mr. Mayweather,” T’Pol ordered Travis.

Travis obeyed, looking up at Hoshi. She was pretending to be suddenly busy. To his right Malcolm had been pretending to be occupied as well.

T’Pol picked up the report she had been working on, ignoring the unusual silence of the bridge crew.

#

Doctor Phlox looked up when T’Pol walked into sickbay.

“Is he conscious?” T’Pol asked.

“Yes. He’s been expecting you and refuses to let me give him any morphine until you two have talked. I’m sure the constant flow of visitors today has something to do with it.” Doctor Phlox returned to the culture he was working with. “Please be brief. He’s in a great deal of discomfort.”

T’Pol walked through the curtain, watching Archer’s face as she approached. Despite spending an hour a day in the dermal regenerator, Archer’s injuries from his fall were taking a long time to heal. Doctor Phlox had told her it could take up to three months before Archer could return to his duties again. T’Pol doubted it would be three months.

“Captain,” T’Pol said.

Archer opened his eyes but they were slow to focus on her. She heard a very soft sound of pain when he drew in a breath.

“T’Pol,” Archer said. He stopped to swallow. “Do you have the reports?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Proceed.” Archer closed his eyes.

T’Pol looked at the PADD in her hand and began giving the reports. As usual, Archer said little and it looked as though he was asleep during them. But every time she stopped to ask him a question, he muttered a soft response to her question. Occasionally he’d wince if he tried to move his broken arm or leg. T’Pol finished the last report and turned to leave.

“Is that all?” Archer asked.

“Captain you need to rest now,” Doctor Phlox said, walking up to the other side of the bio-bed.

“Give us ten minutes,” Archer told Doctor Phlox.

“Captain Arch—“

“Ten minutes, Doctor.

“Five. No more. You should have been resting hours ago.” Doctor Phlox stood back.

Archer looked up at him.

“Doctor.”

“Yes?”

Archer sighed, whimpering a little when it hurt his ribs. “Doctor Phlox, do you mind?”

Doctor Phlox cast a deep frown at both Archer and T’Pol. He turned and left them alone. Archer looked back at T’Pol.

“Is that all?” Archer asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Is there something you want to discussed with me?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I am positive, Captain.”

Archer looked up, meeting T’Pol’s eyes. “Are you absolutely sure that there is nothing else you’d like to discuss, T’Pol? Something that you’ve been repressing maybe? Or perhaps allowing yourself to say it was too illogical to confront or discuss?”

“I do not know what you are referring to, Captain, but there is nothing that I can think of like that.”

“T’Pol, you and Trip got into a fight in front of the bridge crew today.”

“We did have a disagreement.”

“He was yelling. Trip only yells when he’s fighting. What was it about?”

“Our disagreement was about a planet I chose not to stop and collect data on.”

“Why not?”

“The aliens were pre-warp. They had not even tamed mammals.”

“And why was he mad?”

“He wanted to investigate the culture.”

“And how many times has this disagreement happened since you’ve been in command this time around?”

“That is of no relevance.”

“You want me to order you to tell me, T’Pol?”

T’Pol pulled her hands behind her.

“I have not kept record as it has no relevance.”

“I know you can recall the number by heart. How many, T’Pol?”

“At least two dozen.”

“And why did you pass the planets?”

“They were pre-warp.”

“T’Pol, this is not a Vulcan vessel. The last one I agree with, but if they have at least figured out hovercraft, give in and put together a landing party. The crew needs the break. You can’t ride them like you are.”

“I have not been riding them.”

“When was the last time you allowed for a skeleton crew so that the rest of the crew could watch a movie?”

T’Pol didn’t answer.

“Lighten up, T’Pol. I don’t know why you’re being so harsh this time.”

“I am… Concerned. About you as my friend. Furthermore I see Trip on the bridge, in the mess hall, in our quarters.”

Archer smiled, reaching out and laying a hand on her arm. “So maybe you should take a break from him a couple nights in a row. Send him to play cards or just kick him out and let him figure out what to do. Or you go do something. But you cannot yell at each other in front of the crew. That’s not going to work, understand?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry, Captain, you cannot wait any longer,” Doctor Phlox said as he walked up to the bio-bed. “I have to give you the morphine now. You’ll have about a minute before you become incoherent.”

Archer nodded, finishing his sentence as Phlox gave him a shot. “You need his support. And one more thing, I’ve heard he’s overridden a few commands. I wouldn’t tolerate that from him and I certainly don’t expect you to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good.” Archer’s hand slid off of T’Pol’s wrist as he drifted to sleep.

T’Pol placed his hand back on the bio-bed and left Sickbay.

#

Archer woke up when he heard his name. He looked up at T’Pol. She was standing beside his bed with her hands held behind her back.

“Reports?” Archer asked, closing his eyes and swallowing.

T’Pol brought her hand around and looked down at the PADD. She hesitated, staring at the words on the screen. She and Trip had spent all afternoon talking about their circumstance. The conversation had concluded with Trip explaining why Archer had told her to pretend he wanted her to give reports every day.

“T’Pol, what’s wrong?” Archer asked.

T’Pol cleared her throat and began, “Heidi, by Johanna Spyri. Chapter one. Up the mountain to Alm-Uncle. From the old and pleasantly situated village of Mayenfeld, a footpath winds through green and shady meadows—”

“T’Pol,” Archer interrupted.

T’Pol looked down at him. He was smiling.

“Thank you,” Archer said.

“For what, sir?”

“Variety. Continue.”

T’Pol looked back at the PADD and continued reading ‘Heidi’.


Continue to Chapter 2

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