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"Her Face"

Rating: G
Disclaimer: Paramount and/or CBS own Star Trek, Enterprise, and all characters/place/objects wherein. No profit is made from this story.
Genre: Romance, Fluff, Trip/T'Pol
Summary: The joy of careful observation.

Dear Readers: This is my second fan fic. It came quickly on the heels of the first. Total opposite, little tiny piece of fluff. There is no particular time frame – you can decide when it takes place.

Thanks again to JustTrip’n for bein’ my beta.

There’s a word for the look on her face. A look I’ve never seen before.

When we first met, I was greeted with her ‘disdain’ face. Not to be confused with her ‘impertinent human’ face, although they’re similar. It’s the height of the eyebrow—that’s the difference. That said, I didn’t see that face for long, before it was replaced with her ‘begrudging tolerance’ face. A long blink, followed by the eyebrow—sometimes I would imagine a sigh just to complete the picture.

I remember being surprised the day I realized that her ‘tolerant’ face had been replaced by her ‘respect’ face. Then again, that was also the day I realized I respected her too. Had respected, actually. Had for a while.

It became a little game for me—to see who gets which face. It’s amazing really, what you notice if you just pay attention. Like how a long blink is a sigh. Even her lower lids move—which isn’t easy to see. That’s probably why no one ever thinks she gets scared. Only her lower lids move when she’s scared. I won’t even get started on that eyebrow— way too many nuances to get into on that one. But I will say, the ‘eyebrow-of-death’ has got to be my favorite. Well, when it’s not aimed at me anyway. I’ve watched plenty of politicians and higher-ups crumble under that eyebrow. She’s always the picture of calm and control. Her eyes can go from steely focus to soft tenderness in a heartbeat. I confess my male ego really likes how that last part is just for me.

And just when I think I can’t get enough of those Bambi eyes, her lips twitch. Those lovely, pouty, kiss-me-breathless lips. I’ve watched them thin in determination, purse in frustration, and part in contentment. Sometimes it’s hard to pay attention when she’s talking. What can I say? Can you blame me?

Even her nose is cute--the way it crinkles in indignation. (Yes, I said “indignation.” She’s been a bad influence on me.) I especially like when it flares when she picks up a scent. When she picks up my sent.

After all these years of studying every little nuance of that beautiful face, learning how to read her better than anyone else, she still has secrets to reveal. I honestly thought I had seen it all. Calm, frustration, determination, sadness, anger, desire, satisfaction. Then again, this is the first time we’ve had this moment. A moment I questioned would ever come.

I wonder if she even knows I’m here. Watching. She’s sitting on the couch, pillows propped under her arm. Our sweet little baby gently suckling at her breast.

There’s a word for the look on her face. A look I’ve never seen before.


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