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“Reconciliation” Part III Rating: NC-17 Author's note: Vulcan words and phrases from Vulcan Language Dictionary. And thanks to Beth, Zane, Dis and Rigil for helping me out on this. PART III ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ The water felt warm and soothing as it washed over her body, the events of the night before running through her mind. T'Pol leaned forward into the steady stream of water that sprayed from the showerhead, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She felt very content, and though she still felt a little uncertain about the timing of her actions, she had acted, and the only logical course now was to continue down the path she had chosen. Less logical was the elation she now felt for having chosen it. But that was of little import. What was important was that she didn't have to be alone anymore, that she wasn't alone anymore. Despite all the harm that she'd done him, he was still there for her, unconditionally. Illogical… confusing… but comforting. T'Pol let out a pleased sigh. Somehow this shower felt even more soothing than usual. The warmth of the water had always brought her a small measure of comfort. She'd been in the shower for precisely eighteen-point-seven-eight minutes, which her normal Vulcan sensibilities would view as a waste of both time and valuable water. Water conservation wasn't as important on Enterprise, especially with the limited number of personnel left on board, but she was a product of a life on her home planet in which there were limited resources. Still, she had already indulged herself the previous night, so enjoying the warmth of the water for a few extra minutes after she'd finished cleaning herself should do no harm. She massaged her moistened skin, running her hands over her slick abdomen and up to her lush breasts. Her body responded to the vivid memory of the activities which had taken place the previous night. No one had ever made her feel the way Trip had made her feel. She had once been afraid of these feelings, unaccustomed to the intensity and abruptness of the emotions she had been taught to suppress under layer upon layer of control since she was a child. Though she was still angry and ashamed of the actions that had led to her loss of control, she was finally starting to feel secure with herself again, thanks in large part to having an outlet now. Because she had trusted him. I do trust him… Charles Tucker the Third was an honorable man, a quality which he had proven to her many times. It almost compensates for some of his more trying personality traits, she thought with a wry quirk of her eyebrow. He was definitely a challenge, but then, that was part of what she’d discovered was so illogically endearing about him. He had admirable attributes like no other she had met in the 65 years of her life. He was a credit to his species, even if she didn't entirely understand him or humanity as a whole. But they were aliens, so it was only logical that their culture would seem peculiar to her. A thought suddenly dawned on her, one that she was ashamed to admit that she hadn't given previous consideration to. Her other self, on the other Enterprise that had been lost in time had made a commitment to the other Charles Tucker. Her other self had been cheated of her time with him, but having this information did beg consideration on her own part. She wasn't entirely sure what these feelings she had for Trip meant in the long term. She had grown accustomed to being alone. Vulcans kept to themselves. Personal information was irrelevant to their professions and their public lives. It was only acceptable to share oneself with one's mate, and even then this was limited. After all, control was what Vulcans valued above all else. Few would be foolish enough to risk losing control the way she had. But then, her emotions had always been close to the surface, which made her an outcast among her own people. Assignments away from her home planet became her escape, in a way. She was still among her people, but the work she performed allowed her to earn a reputation for excellence in her field, despite earlier failures in what she had initially chosen as a career. Part of her had wanted to remain alone. After all, she had accepted assignments that had placed her in deep space, or on planets that were light-years away from the mate that had been chosen for her. She had never desired to be with Koss and the very thought of mating with him and bearing his children unsettled her. Thus, she'd always placed herself in a position that would leave her a great distance away from him during the time of his pon farr. He'd had to find help from others to sate his blood fever, and they were welcome to him. And yet, there was now another, one who had always been there for her. Still, she was uncertain if marriage would be the correct course of action, even if it was the most logical progression of their unusual relationship. They would meet resistance from both of their worlds. She had no doubt that if any of her fellow Vulcans had learned of her intimacy outside of her betrothal, and outside of her species, they would spurn her as well as him. Judging from her experience with humans, she also had no doubt many of them would find the idea of a human and Vulcan marrying to be unsettling. There was also the possibility that they could ruin their careers if the details of their affair were leaned by Starfleet Command. She would never receive a commission and he could lose his. What would they do then? She doubted she'd ever be welcome among Vulcans again. She decided that she was getting ahead of herself. While it was prudent to consider the future in the long term, it was illogical to lose sight of what lay directly ahead of her. Time would allow her to consider her choices. She needed to continue as she was. She needed to allow herself to know Trip for the man that he was, and to allow him to know her for who she was. Only time would accomplish that. T'Pol allowed herself to relax once more. Her mental reflection had taken another one-point-four minutes. Her shower had lasted long enough. Trip was still asleep for the time being, but he would likely awaken soon, and she didn't want him to wake up alone. He had almost left last night and seemed unsure of himself. Which is understandable, considering how I have treated him, she chided herself. She didn't want to give him reason to doubt her intentions again. Just as T'Pol was about to reach for the knob, she felt something from within that she couldn't explain or understand. Somehow, she knew that Trip was awake now. Or at least she felt that he was. If this were true, she hoped that he would hear the sound of the shower and know that she hadn't left him alone. In fact, she almost hoped he would join her. Suddenly, there was a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump slightly. "Oh! Sorry darlin'," she heard Trip say with a hint of amusement on his voice. "Didn't mean to startle you." She turned to face him, glaring at him with annoyance. He simply smiled back at her. She had no way of knowing if he'd purposely made his approach by stealth, but even if he had, she should have heard him coming. She had allowed herself to become too distracted in thought, but knowing that didn't mean that she had to admit it to him. "I hope you don't mind if I join you," he added when she didn't reply. Her annoyance (directed more at herself than at him) soon evaporated as she silently reveled in his presence. "On the contrary," she wryly told him. "I was hoping you would join me." She turned away from him, already anticipating his potential reaction. "Perhaps you can clean my back." There it was. She could see the irritation his face was now displaying with the peripheral of her vision. Ever since she found that she actually enjoyed challenging him, she also discovered that she enjoyed eliciting this particular type of reaction from him. She wouldn't torment him for very long though, as personal hygiene was the last thing on her mind right now. She turned her head slightly, in order to obtain a preferable view. She cocked an eyebrow over one of her hooded eyes to draw his attention, gliding her hands tantalizingly along her slick skin. Flexing her arms back, she placed her palms over her firm bottom. Having obviously achieved the desired result from the now stunned and aroused human male behind her, she also discovered that the power she seemed to have over him was illogically pleasing. She slid her hands upward, tracing the curves of her firm behind to the small of her back, and then along her narrow waist all in one smooth motion. She slowly turned to face him, her hands caressing the smooth contours of her body. Her fingers moved over her toned middle and up to her breasts. She cupped them proudly, as if to present them. Her nipples hardened in response to her own gentle touch, now flushed with her building arousal. She squeezed them together and watched every nuance of his changing reaction. He simply stood there, looking at her with his beautiful and intense blue eyes as she displayed herself to him, the water running in rivulets down her body. He wasn't smiling, but he appeared to be enjoying the spectacle before him. She let her eyes fall down from his transfixed face, and gazed at his pleasing form. His skin was already wet from the spray of the shower, even though he wasn't directly beneath it. She watched as the droplets of water trickled down his sculpted shoulders and along his muscled arms. Damp hair clung to his chest, which was covered sufficiently enough to prove his masculinity, but not so much as to conceal the toned muscles that lay beneath his skin. Her eyes went lower. His middle was as well toned as hers, his abdominals hinting at their existence, but not screaming their presence with vanity. Just right. More hair led downward, which she followed with her eyes, to the hardened shaft that stood proudly upwards. She felt a familiar tingling building between her legs. She was sure that she was already moist and fully aroused. As she ran her hands back down along her body to her wide hips, she hoped that he was done simply watching her. She willed him to take her in his strong arms and make her his. To her pleasant surprise, she soon found herself in his tight embrace, her breasts now pressed into his firm and unyielding chest. He stooped down slightly to bring his lips to hers, an electric current surging between them as she tasted his mouth. His breath hinted of mint, suggesting that she had indeed been very distracted since she hadn't even heard him rinse with her mouthwash. She had little time to think about this though, as her mind was soon numbed by his cool tongue playing inside her mouth, like some small mischievous living thing. She put her arms around him, gripped his shoulders and pulled herself up to meet him, feeling tiny next to him as she stood on her toes. Despite their many differences, their bodies molded perfectly together -her body fire and his body ice- a mirror reflection of their temperaments. He broke the kiss and looked down at her, wild, turbulent thoughts behind his blue eyes. Letting herself slip back down, she couldn't help but to be reminded of how much the man in her arms seemed to have aged in the past year. They both needed this release. Feeling more aggressive, she turned Trip around and forced him against the wall, just hard enough to surprise him. She reunited her hungry lips with his as she pressed her body against him, briefly stealing his breath away. For a moment, she took a surprisingly animalistic satisfaction from the torment she was causing him, knowing full well that he wouldn't want to be the first to halt their mouth play, despite his need to breathe. She pulled away, taking his lower lip with her for a tantalizing fraction of a second before releasing it. She opened her eyes and gazed back at him. Satisfied with what his eyes appeared to reveal, she stood on her toes once again, this time for the sole purpose of seeking out his left ear to nibble on. He turned his head slightly, allowing better access for her to flick at his earlobe. She took the soft flesh between her lips, gently sucking his tender skin. She wondered if he was enjoying this as much as she was. Judging from his reaction, she presumed that he didn't find it unpleasant. As her tongue and mouth further explored his body, T’Pol discovered a sensitive area near Trip’s jaw, and another along the nape of his neck. She felt him shudder in response to her gentle caresses. She left no part of him untouched. It wasn't logical, but in the recesses of her normally disciplined mind, a part of her hoped that her ministrations would cause a bruise, that her soft sucking at his skin would leave her mark on him, adding to the ones she’d inadvertently left with her fingernails on his back during a previous moment of ecstasy. He tried to embrace her again, but she grasped him firmly by his biceps and restrained him with a fraction of her superior Vulcan strength. She descended slowly, pressing gentle kisses along his skin. She lowered herself to his chest, feeling the slight tickle of his hair brushing past her cheek as her tongue found one of his nipples and teased it with a light touch. Her mouth moved down his the length of his body, each new taste of him further whetting her desires. She lowered herself further, squatting down in front of him and leaving wet kisses on his belly as she got closer to her final goal. She released one of his wrists from her grasp and slowly moved her hand down so that her fingers teased the head of his shaft. Experimentally, she ran her tongue down the side of the fleshy protrusion, eliciting a gasp from him. She teased and nibbled the sides and bottom of his maleness, delighting in the grunts and other unintelligible noises he was making. She still held his left wrist tightly, but his right hand was free. He reached out to touch her, but as if in deference to her earlier restraint of him, he held back, and instead used his hand to brace himself against the wall. At least until her lips replaced her fingers on the sensitive head of his organ. She closed her eyes, the sensation of his flesh to her mouth her complete existence in that moment. Her tongue caressed the tender skin, kissing him as though she were kissing his lower lip. The fingers of his free hand were soon combing through her wet hair. She continued to tease him, focusing the attention of her supple lips on just the sensitive end of his shaft. She released him, deciding that she'd teased him enough, for now. His confusion was palpable, his blue eyes hinting at disappointment. She slowly stood back up, flexing her body in one smooth, feline motion to remain within centimeters of him, never breaking eye contact. Her hands brushed the cool skin of his arms, until they were behind his shoulders. She started to step away from him, the light touch of her fingers on his shoulders her only contact with him. He understood, and she was able to lead him away from the shower wall with a gentle nudge. She led him to the center of the shower, both of them now under the stream of warm water. Placing a hand on the top of his shoulder, she pushed him down. He let her lower him down, until he was lying on the hard floor of the shower. Not the most comfortable surface, but she doubted he would mind. She stepped over him, straddling his prone form as he stared up at her. She sank back down to meet him. His hands found their way to her thighs as she settled into a comfortable position on her calves. She slid a hand over her taut belly, down to the warmth of her center. Gazing into his eyes, she recognized his building desire as he watched her, his primal stare arousing her further. Her fingers moved over her slick folds, seemingly of their own accord. It was … exciting doing this with the man who cared so deeply for her pinned beneath her, and watching her every move. She took his length into her hand, and guided him inside, eagerly impaling herself. She shared a pleased sigh with him, and fought to keep her eyes open. She wanted to memorize the expressions of his face while she was riding him. He wasn't as successful, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. His hands explored her body instead, his touch like ice on her burning skin even as she had his cool shaft inside of her. The pleasurable sensations of their gentle thrusting reverberated throughout her body. Her legs, her backside, her sides, her abdomen, and breasts all felt his touch. She stroked his chest, feeling his heart, his breath, his life through her touch. He opened his eyes, watching her rise and fall in a steady, controlled rhythm. She could almost feel his gaze, and sense the admiration he had for her physical form, even before he finally made eye contact with her. She gave him a throaty moan and intensified her tempo, daring him to lose himself at that moment. His hands fell to the swell of her hips, urging her on. T'Pol closed her eyes and focused on her other senses, reveling in the pleasurable sensations of his body to hers. The warm water of the shower cascaded over them, their skin making wet sounds as they moved together, him inside of her, his hands on her waist, his heart under her hands… She was overcome by her pleasure and desire, the passion she felt for the human beneath her -her human- now coursing through her veins. She could sense that he was getting close, and somehow, just knowing that drove her closer to her own climax. She intensified their pleasure by squeezing him with her inner muscles and gyrating her hips, flicking forward in sharp movements. His hips bucked beneath her, his warmth spreading into her center. She closed her eyes, offering no resistance to the heightening sensations she felt from each forward thrust. She drove herself against him again and again, the pleasure building as she neared the edge. She gripped his shoulders and rode the intense wave to its peak, suddenly crying out in release. She allowed the blissful feeling to surge through her body, moaning from the sheer intensity of ecstasy he’d given her. A lifetime later she came down from this high, and grew aware of the world around her. She felt hands on her back, and realized that she hadn't moved. She let out a low, satisfied moan and leaned back to rest on Trip's thighs. He pulled himself up and held her in a tight, post-coital embrace. * * * * * * * * * * Captain Jonathan Archer stood in front of the door, bracing himself against the wall with one of his hands, while the other ran aimlessly through his hair. He was in shock, his mind still processing the sounds he'd just heard. His face was already flushed red from the embarrassment of the voyeuristic aspect of his behavior. There could be no mistaking the sources of the husky breathing and the moans of pleasure. Hearing T'Pol cry out, "Triiip!!!" in a very unVulcan-like manner had simply been confirmation of what the sinking feeling in his gut already told him. His embarrassment and shock were quickly overtaken by the hotness of anger and jealousy, along with the gut-wrenching feeling of being truly alone. He'd always had an inkling that his best friend and his first officer might be closer than either of them had been letting on, but until now he hadn't allowed himself to think about it much. He'd had a mission, and had been determined to see it through, no matter what the cost. Even after he'd somehow managed to save Earth and had survived in the process, his mind was still stuck on full throttle, always thinking ahead, or worse yet, thinking back to all of the decisions that he had made. And now… having to face the reality of Trip and T'Pol's … affair full force like this was just too painful. Gritting his teeth, he managed to pry his sweaty hand from the wall and turned to walk away, stalking back down the corridor. He was intent on the security of his quarters and was ready to welcome the only apparent companionship he really had left on this ship. It wasn't really that he disapproved. It was just that this had escaped his notice until now, and he'd been confronted with the reality of it, having heard the carnal sounds of his two closest friends. It infuriated him to no end. He was angry at himself for being so focused on either the past or the future that he'd missed what was happening in the present. He was also angry at them for sneaking around like this. It was true that Starfleet probably wouldn't approve of the first officer and the chief engineer engaging in an illicit affair, but he was supposed to be their friend, dammit! It wasn't as if he'd rat them out or anything, not after… Oh, what the hell does it matter now? Archer thought sardonically to himself. He still wasn't going to rat them out, even if he was livid about the whole situation. He was ashamed to admit it, but he was also feeling a certain amount of jealousy as well. Not that he wanted T'Pol for himself or anything, far from it. Even if he'd had some pretty screwed up dreams about her in the past, once he got past T'Pol's stunning exterior… well… there just wasn't much there that appealed to him, not in that way. More, he felt betrayed by both of them. They'd stolen themselves away from him. Where was his companion? Who did he have to turn to? Where was his shoulder to cry on? The sympathetic ears to pour his heart out to? And to think that the reason he'd gone looking for Trip to begin with was to share the good news with him. He'd wanted to be the first to tell his friend that Starfleet's brass had finally weighed in, that Enterprise was to be refit and repaired. He hadn't been surprised that Trip wasn’t in his quarters, as it was already fairly late in the morning. He'd had a feeling that Trip might have been in T'Pol's quarters, visiting, or working with T'Pol on one of her personal projects. It hadn't really mattered, T'Pol's quarters would've been his next stop anyway –he'd had some good news for her, too. Well, he'd been half right; Trip had definitely been working with T'Pol on something personal… It wasn't long before Jon found himself standing in front of his own door again. He unenthusiastically keyed the entry padd and quickly made his way over to his bed. He sat down with a heavy sigh. There was already a whimper at his feet. Jon looked down into Porthos's worried eyes. He gently picked up the small beagle and set him down on the bed beside him. The canine pressed up against the leg of his master, and laid his head in the man's lap. Jon couldn't help being touched by this. He soon found himself tenderly stroking the soft, warm fur of his tiny companion, pausing every now and then to scratch behind the dog's ears. "Sorry I don't have any cheese for you, buddy," he absently mumbled at Porthos. Jon couldn't help but be fascinated by how perceptive dogs could be sometimes. It wasn't as if he was all that hard to read or anything, but the fact that Porthos was able to pick up on how he was feeling, and then seemed to share in his pain never failed to amaze him, no matter how many times it had happened. At least thinking about this was helping him to forget the plethora of emotions that had flooded his mind. Archer sighed heavily again, and considered the sad brown eyes of his loyal pet. "What the hell am I going to do now?" he breathed, as if the dog could understand him and answer his question. "How am I going to even look them in the eye again?" * * * * * * * * * * Trip finished drying himself with the rough towel, draping it over his shoulders when he felt he was satisfactorily less damp. He'd finally gotten his morning shower, and it was a little after noon now. Not long after his first bout of morning madness with T'Pol, the two had actually tried to shower together, but their efforts were short-lived. The time after that wasn’t much more successful either. Eventually they'd managed to get themselves clean, but they'd almost given into their desires again. Surmising that she was the more disciplined of the two, she'd managed to excuse herself before they had gone any further. One hell of a mornin', Trip thought with a wry smile. It was a good thing that there weren't many people on board, or there'd be a lot of people without warm water for their morning showers. He already knew she'd be there waiting for him when he made his way back into the bedroom. She was sitting cross-legged on the cushy quilt that covered her bed, as naked as the day she was born. She watched him with dark, mysterious eyes as he made his way toward her. He always felt like he could get lost in those eyes, especially when she looked at him as intensely as she was at that moment. She uncrossed her legs, moving into a more comfortable position as he sat down on her bed. He didn't say anything, just gazed at her, admiring the way the warm candlelight seemed to make her skin glow a warm bronze. Truth was, he couldn't really think of anything to say anyway. He felt a sense of warmth and contentment that he hadn't felt in a long time. He knew that he'd treasure this time for the rest of his life. No life and death decisions to make, no reports to write, no duty shift, just her, and his own thoughts. Trip did his best to scoot toward T'Pol over the fluffy quilt, suddenly feeling the need for close physical contact with her. He mostly succeeded, but the quilt bunched up between them. He felt her put her warm arms were around him, her hands sliding over his chest. He leaned back into her body, and found that he fit perfectly into the space made by her slightly spread legs. His back rested comfortably against her firm belly, her breasts like soft pillows for his head. He tilted his head back and looked up into her eyes, noticing how they seemed to glimmer in the candlelight. Outwardly, she didn’t appear to be much older than he was, except for something in her eyes. Somehow, by just looking into them, he was reminded that T’Pol’s eyes had seen far more than his ever had. "I will only be sixty-six years old on my next birthday." Trip smiled at the memory, earning him a slightly raised eyebrow. His smile evaporated, and he looked longingly at her. Her hands left his chest, one finding its way to his arm, the other sliding up to his jaw. He tilted his head to the side to meet her with a passionate kiss, closing his eyes just before his lips met hers. He could never get enough of the taste of her, fire and spice in his mouth, and yet it was more than just that. The majority of people likely looked at this as nothing more than a simple display of affection, something that most wouldn't think twice about doing in public. Yet with T'Pol, he knew this wasn't a simple act, and it wasn't meant to be seen by the eyes of others. A kiss from this woman was every bit as intimate as the act they’d shared together for most of the morning and the previous night. Her supple lips left his. He opened his eyes once more. Her eyebrow was cocked again, as if to ask him if that was enough. He knew that she was probably up for a lot more, and even though his body already ached from the rigors of that morning, he could definitely spend the entire day doing just that with her if she wanted him to. He sure wouldn't complain. But his mind was racing, running through the same, now very familiar questions that he knew he didn't have the answers to. T'Pol cradled his head in the crook of her arm, and seemed to be waiting for him to speak. He thought about what to say, and came to the conclusion that the direct approach would likely be the best approach. "What are you thinkin' right now?" Trip finally asked, worry lacing his words despite his best efforts to conceal it. She silently considered the question for a moment before replying simply, "I am thinking that I find this position … pleasant." Trip smirked at that. "You mean holdin' me like this?" He quietly chuckled at that thought. "I kinda like it too." He brought his hand up to hers, lacing their fingers together as he nuzzled their joined hands. "Yes, like this," she confirmed, then added, "I also found our experience together in the shower to be illogically agreeable. As I did with our shared activities the previous evening and the evening preceding that." If T'Pol had been human, she'd be smiling right now. Trip recognized the subtle change in her expression for what it was. It never ceased to amaze him how expressive she could be with just her eyes. "I enjoy the presence of your company in this manner," she finished. "No regrets then?" he asked, needing to be sure. "You aren't…" Trip couldn't think of the right way to articulate himself and it frustrated him to no end. "No," she answered, interrupting his confused thoughts. Somehow, that was enough. Without realizing that he'd been tensing up, he let himself go limp in her arms again. Still, his mind had not completely quieted. "T'Pol?" "Yes?" "What are we? What do we have together?" He felt her body tensing beneath him. She silently considered his question for at least a minute, their soft breathing the only sound in the small room. "I don't know." Trip looked up at her. "I don't know either," he began uneasily. "You're more than a friend… and I think the world of ya…. but…" She nodded. "I feel similarly," she agreed. "Vulcan tradition does not normally allow relationships outside of our arranged marriages." Trip's felt his expression sour; he couldn't help it. "And what would Vulcan tradition say about us?" he asked, then quickly added, "You know… since your engagement was broken off and all." "Vulcan law does allow for one who is not bound by a betrothal to seek a mate of their own choice," she replied. "However, this rarely happens, and there is no precedence for a Vulcan choosing a non-Vulcan for a mate." Trip was disappointed, but that didn't entirely surprise him. Vulcans and humans were so fundamentally different from one another that most of them barely tolerated one another. They'd probably scoff at the idea of a human and a Vulcan being intimate with one another. Had he and T'Pol not gotten to know one another the way they had, he'd probably laugh at the idea too. Part of him wondered now if the trellium had been what enabled her to be with him the way that she had, but that was all in the past now, and he wasn't even sure what they had right now, let alone what kind of a future awaited them. He knew that Vulcans didn't look at sex casually, the way a lot of humans tended to, especially when they were young and stupid. He wasn't a teenager or twenty-something with raging hormones, though. Still, like sex, the "l" word tended to be used far too casually, at least for his sensibilities, so he wasn't ready to drag it out himself just yet. Enough of that, Trip finally told himself, frustrated. Stop worryin' about what might happen and enjoy what you have right now before it's gone. "T'Pol, I've been thinkin'…" "That much is obvious," she interrupted, a hint of amusement on her voice. He gave her a look that conveyed his wry annoyance. She definitely had a unique sense of humor. "You remember the talk we had with the cap'n before we got Hoshi back? About what we were goin' to do when everythang was over?" "Yes" "Have you thought any more on that?" he inquired. "About visitin' Vulcan and seein' those colleagues you haven't seen in a while?" He felt the tension again. Her free hand stopped caressing his arm. Even her breathing had momentarily stopped. "I am uncertain of how I would be received," came her much delayed reply. Trip could hear the slight tremor in her voice -she was afraid. He sat up on her bed and turned to face her, and wasn't surprised by the visible tension in her face. It pained him to see her this way. He knew he had to say something, anything, to reassure her. He brushed his fingers across her thigh. "I know that you've given up a lot, T'Pol," he murmured. "I wished I could say somethin' insightful that would make everythang better, but I can't." He felt horrible, so close to her, and yet he was still powerless to give her the help she really needed. "All I can do… is to be here with you if you want to talk about it." She nodded, acknowledging his words, and he hoped accepting his offer, but she said nothing. She took his hand in hers, and brought it up to her face, touching his fingers against her soft cheek. Hope she's not just puttin' on a brave face. He put his other arm around her and pulled her close, still caressing her beautiful, radiant face. He listened to her breathing, and to the sound of their hearts beating together. A feeling of contentment came over him, and he hoped that she felt the same way. He couldn't help but think of home, and what "home" really meant. This ship was his home now. As he knelt on T'Pol's bed, and held her in a warm embrace, he couldn't help but think of family, too, or rather, his lack of any real family. It was true that he thought of this crew -his crew- as family, but that wasn't the same, especially when he'd basically been disowned by his "real" family. That's when something dawned on him. "Do you have family, T'Pol?" he whispered into her ear. "Yes," she whispered back. "However, my mother and I… are on uneasy terms." He loosened his embrace, and studied her face. "How long has it been since you last spoke to her?" "My last correspondence with her was sent eleven months, two weeks, three days ago," she told him with a steady voice. She wasn't able to hide the sadness from him for long, though. "She did not respond." "It's been a while, and a lot has happened since then," he told her with as much optimism as he could summon. "Who knows, maybe she's just waitin' to hear back from you." T'Pol was definitely skeptical about that, he was certain, since her face told him as much. "I find that highly unlikely. By now she must be aware of my continued existence through Starfleet's official channels. That would be her only concern." Trip couldn't help but give her a wry smile as he spoke his wicked thought aloud. "Well, if you're any indication of what she might be like, I’d have to say she's just bein' stubborn." This earned him a glare, but he took it in stride. "Maybe she's just holdin' out so she doesn't have to admit to missin' you. You know… one of those pesky emotions you Vulcans like to pretend that you don't have." Before she had a chance to retort, he pressed his lips to hers. She accepted his affection, and the two were then locked together in their passion. She was stubborn, but then, that's what he liked about her. * * * * * * * * * * It had taken considerable willpower for them to finally part one another’s company. T'Pol could've spent the entire day with him, lying nude together in her bed. However, the practicalities of their bodies' needs had won out; they needed to eat. It was already evening when Trip could no longer ignore his hunger. If necessary, she could have gone several days without eating before feeling uncomfortable, but it would have been illogical to do so, no matter how much she would have preferred to remain in her quarters. Yet, that was exactly where she was now, having accepted Trip's generous offer to bring her something to eat when he returned. In the meantime, she had time to reflect on the long conversation they'd had about family. She was still uncertain how he'd managed to avoid discussing his family, while somehow encouraging her to discuss her mother and her colleagues, to the point of giving him a limited amount of information about them. There were still many things she would not discuss openly with him. Vulcans were very private about personal matters after all. Though she did trust him, there were burdens that she and she alone must bear. There were also things that he couldn't entirely hide from her. His refusal to discuss his family was very telling. He had spoken about his family with her on previous occasions; before the Xindi probe attacked Earth, and later during neuro-pressure with her. She knew about his attachment to his sister, and of the great affection he had for her despite their separation. She had assumed that he held a similar affection for the other members of his family, as every other human she had interacted with usually did. Even among Vulcans, there was an unspoken attachment to one's family that could not be denied. Trip would no doubt use some particular vulgar aphorism he’d been known to quote had he been aware of her thoughts on the matter. He certainly does have a unique, if colorful, way with words, T'Pol thought to herself as she raised a wry eyebrow. Still, it was her own family that consumed her thoughts at this moment. In all of her long memories, she could not ever recall having a comfortable relationship with her mother. Her emotions had always been close to the surface, making her an outcast among her peers at an early age, and apparently even from her own mother. While her mother had chided and disciplined her for her small lapses in control, her father had been more understanding in his approach. He had nurtured her interests, while teaching her how to better control her impulses. It had always been a constant struggle for her, but he had been an anchor for her in the storm of her life. She still felt his loss, even decades after his untimely death. Her mother had been deeply affected as well, but rather than grieve with her daughter and only child, she had pushed T'Pol away. T'Pol had always been somewhat rebellious, and her father had encouraged that in his daughter. So when her father had been taken from her, and her mother had spurned her, she had joined the Ministry of Security, adopting her father's career choice as her own. More importantly, she’d purposely shunned her mother’s profession, taking pains to avoid having to endure having her as an instructor. The painful memory of the direction her initial career path had eventually taken her made itself known. All Vulcans abhorred the taking of life, even when logic dictated that it was necessary, but T'Pol found that it had an even greater impact on her. Even before the incident that had required the purging of her memory to preserve her sanity, she had found that the Ministry of Security did not suit her. She was a scientist to her very core, like her mother before her. While initially, her mind was flooded with the memories of all she'd had to endure to become a science officer in the service of the High Command, the memory of learning under the instruction of her mother in combination with the memory of her fullara caused yet another memory to surface. T'Les had been there when T'Pol had undergone the obsolete ritual. Upon further reflection, T'Pol recalled seeing her standing off to the side. The concern in her mother's eyes had been real. It had been the very real possibility that she could have been lost to her mother, leaving her alone, without the last remaining vestige of her mate. Perhaps Trip was right about her mother. It was unpleasant to admit it to herself, but she did indeed share the very same stubborn nature that T’Les seemed to possess. It was illogical to think that she had somehow inherited this behavioral trait from her mother, but there was no denying the commonality between parent and child. Even her devotion to science seemed to stem from her mother, who still instructed at the Science Academy. But T’Pol differed significantly from her mother in the rebellious side of her nature. It was a trait she shared with her father, just as she shared the same eye color and skin hue with him. T'Pol rose from her place on her bed and pulled her loose-fitting robe over her nude form. She didn't have much time left to do this privately, but she was determined now to see it through. After activating her room's normal lighting, she extinguished her candles and began preparing herself for what she was about to do. She sat down at her computer terminal, activated it, and keyed in the command that would make a visual record of what she was about to say. "M'aih," she began. "T'Pol-kan rok-tor nash-skladan talal muhl…" ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ To Be Continued… |
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