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"Catwalk"
Rating: PG
Author's Note: At the end of this episode, T'Pol is watching a western with the rest of the crew, and Tucker lets her know she'd be welcome at their regular movie night. This is Tucker for truce, in my book. But what finally brought that on? One of the many challenges of life in the catwalk was that T'Pol could hear virtually every conversation that didn't overlap sufficiently with another one. The long curved tube they were living in while they rode out the rest of the storm amplified sound waves with dreadful efficiency. She did her best to ignore these conversations, but some were harder to miss than others. For example, it was impossible not to overhear Commander Tucker's discussion with Captain Archer in the command area while she was sitting on the floor between the two bunks behind them utterly failing to meditate. That precious state of serenity had been eluding her except in the very middle of the night on the extremely rare occasions when everybody was quiet. It didn't help that she had lost one of her ear plugs the very first day they arrived. Since it was impossible for something even that small to just disappear, she rather suspected that Porthos had eaten it. Tucker said, "Cap'n, Phlox told me to ask you if I could take a nap up here. It's a lot quieter." "You feeling all right? You got a pretty good dose of radiation." "Yeah, he treated that. I'm just really tired. And I can't sleep back there, not right now. There's too much going on." "It's fine with me, but T'Pol's meditating back there right now." "Oh. Damn." "I don't see that napping would interfere with meditation so much." "The smell alone would probably distract her. I'm pretty ripe." "We're all stinking up the joint. At this point I doubt she'd notice any difference." "Maybe I should install showers up here when we're done, just in case this ever happens again. At least it would shut Malcolm up." "How about an officer's latrine while you're at it?" Tucker laughed. "Good idea. You can't even sit on the toilet for thirty seconds without somebody knocking on the door. Honestly, Cap'n -- I don't generally think of myself as much of an introvert, but if I don't get some time alone soon, I might just murder somebody." "It's only one more day, Trip. I actually think it's been a nice bonding experience for the crew." "With all due respect, sir, it's been a nice bonding experience if you can walk around for a little bit 'bonding' with people and then retreat back up here to some relative peace and quiet where you can feel all nice and warm about it without somebody stepping on you." "You definitely do need some sleep, don't you? Why don't you just go on back?" "How long has she been at it?" "I don't know. Fifteen minutes?" "I'll wait. This can't be easy on her, either. She's not exactly a people person at the best of times." Archer lowered his voice. "I suggested she should take this opportunity to fraternize with the crew a little. She said it wasn't one of her skills." Tucker snorted. "She seems a little more isolated than usual, actually. I used to see you two having a cup of coffee now and then, but that doesn't seem to be happening anymore." Silence. "What happened?" "Nothing happened." "Seems like after that mission she had to go on for the Vulcans, things just haven't been the same." Silence. Archer said, "You do realize that she was under strict instructions to keep the whole thing classified." "You put me in a bad position there, Cap'n. I had to impersonate a senior officer just to get your damned water polo score. And you left me in command without giving me any idea what the hell was going on." "Okay, but that was me. Not her." More silence. "Why are you still so angry about it?" "I'm not." "Trip." "Maybe I just don't like not being trusted. I'm not angry. I'm just ... not stupid. I admit, I thought she and I were friends, to the extent you can be friends with a Vulcan. I've adjusted my expectations, that's all. Now I just think of her as a colleague. A valued colleague. My behavior has been nothing but professional. I'm sure she prefers it that way, anyway." "I doubt that." "Well, that's just the way it's gonna be. You can't order me to be friends with someone, Cap'n." "No, I can't. But I'm disappointed in you. You've never struck me as someone who would hold a grudge." "It's not a grudge! It's just recognizing the way things are." "And you don't strike me as particularly happy about it, either." "Was there anything else, sir?" Tucker clearly didn't want to discuss the matter any further. Archer's sigh was heavy. "Why don't you just go on back? Tell her the doctor ordered you to take a nap. He did, didn't he?" "I can't go back there." "This is ridiculous, Trip! I want my senior officers to be able to get along. And you're the last person I would expect to be getting in the way of that." "I'm not the problem!" Trip said hotly. Any further attempt at meditation would be pointless now. She wasn't sure why having Commander Tucker declare so plainly that he no longer considered her a friend upset her equanimity so thoroughly, but it did. She blew out the little candle Archer had allowed her and swept out of the little vestibule. "Please take your nap, Commander," she said. "I wouldn't want a valued colleague to go without sleep." Then she brushed past him, pushed through the blanket door, and stalked off down the gangway. She would go find something to do or somebody to fraternize with, no matter how inappropriate a use of her time and skills it might be. Next installment: Dawn. |
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