"Truth Versus Fiction" by A. Rhea King Rating: PG Disclaimer: Don't own them, CBS/Paramount does. Genre: Humor/Drama Description: Deleted scenes from Dough Boys, the prank war continues, the boys get in trouble and thrown in jail, Phlox endures the endless questioning of a six year old... Remember Me? (1) (Alternate ending to “Dough Boys”) Leaving Archer’s quarters T’Pol walked down the hall to Trip’s quarters. She stopped and pushed the doorbell. The door slid open and she stepped inside. Trip was sitting at his desk, staring at a picture of himself and Archer. Trip looked away from it to T’Pol. “Good evening, Commander,” T’Pol greeted him. Trip closed his eyes. “T’Pol…right?” “Yes.” Trip looked at the monitor. “Remind me who this is.” “That is your captain. Captain Jonathan Archer.” “Yeah.” Trip nodded. “Captain…” “Do you need anything, Commander? I am retiring to my quarters for the evening.” Trip didn’t reply. “Good-night, Commander.” T’Pol turned to leave. “We danced.” T’Pol stopped short. She turned, looking back at Trip. He was staring at her. “I’m sorry?” “You…and me…we’ve never danced, have we?” Trip put his head in his hands. “Just another fake memory they put in my head.” “You have taught me many different forms of human dance, Commander.” Trip looked up at her, almost smiling but not quite. “We have danced?” “Yes, Commander.” Trip smiled. “For once, a memory that I remembered on my own!” Trip’s smile wilted. “But I can’t remember the dances.” Trip stood, for a few seconds forming soundless words with his lips. “Teach me one. A dance. I mean…show me one. Us, you and me… It’s… It’s like…like having something on the tip of your tongue and you just can’t remember. Maybe if I danced once I would remember.” “Very well.” T’Pol turned and walked to Trip's desk to pull up a song. The started a song and she walked to the center of the room. Trip approached her. He held out his hands but then drew back, unable to remember what to do. T’Pol gently took his left hand in her right and placed his right hand on her waist. “Follow my lead until you can remember the moves yourself, Commander.” Trip nodded. T’Pol slowly began to move to a waltz. For most of the dance Trip kept his eyes closed, struggling to remember the steps. And when they came to him, a large chunk of memory followed. Trip smiled, looking at T’Pol. “I remember this, T’Pol.” T’Pol said nothing. Trip stopped suddenly and she looked up into his eyes. “They told me you were a spy when I remembered you. That all my memories of you were times we spent but I was just trying to lure you out.” “I have never been a spy, Commander.” “What did you call me before? It’s not Commander. It was…” “Charles.” Trip nodded. T’Pol let him pull her close to him, her eyes never leaving his. Trip lifted his hand to her face, laying his palm on her cheek. T’Pol didn’t pull back when he kissed her. She closed her eyes, feeling his arms wrap around her. Trip looked in her eyes and smiled. “Hey,” Trip said in a warm voice. “I remember you. I love you.” Trip hugged her tight. “They tried to take you away from me. But I kept seeing you in my dreams and you would keep asking me to find my way home.” T’Pol closed her eyes. “I prayed,” T’Pol whispered. “Every night I prayed you’d come back safe. Since you’ve been back, I’ve prayed every hour that you’d remember who you were and—” Trip kissed her again. Continue to Chapter 2

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