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"Not Just" Rating: PG Author's Note: pre-Happy Medium Universe, post-Bound
American Heritage Stedman's Medical Dictionary intoxication in·tox·i·ca·tion 1. The pathological state produced by a drug, serum, alcohol, or any toxic substance; poisoning. 2. Acute alcoholism. 3. A state of mental excitement or emotional frenzy.
Enterprise was maintaining
station-keeping just outside the Sol system. Docked to its portside was
the boomer ship Destiny, where crews were working to offload several
dozen crates of borite onto the NX-01 for transport to Earth. Trip crawled out from under
the science station and shook his head vigorously in an effort to rid him of an
overwhelming feeling of fogginess. When that didn't work, he rubbed his
eyes with the heels of his hands. He looked up and was disturbed to
realize his vision was still blurry. From his location behind
the tactical console on the Bridge, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed observed the Chief
Engineer with some concern. "Are you alright, Commander?" Reed's query signaled to
the rest of the Bridge crew that a problem was afoot, and Captain Archer
twisted around in his chair. "Trip?" He, too, noted the agitation
in the engineer. Trip blinked his eyes
rapidly. "I'm fine, Cap'n. Just something's in my eye...I
think." He rubbed at his eyes again and grew frustrated when the loss of
focus persisted. "I don't know...maybe..." He stood, leaning hard on T'Pol's
console in order to do so. "Uh...maybe I should go see Phlox, after all." Archer leapt from his chair
and crossed to his friend, reaching out to steady him when he got close
enough. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You don't look so hot,
pal." "I don't know what's
wrong," Trip muttered. He took three steps away from the science station
before his legs collapsed beneath him. "Whoa, there!" Archer
grabbed at him but was not quick enough to prevent the engineer from landing in
a heap at the foot of the console. "Hoshi, call down and get Phlox up
here now!" "On it," the Ensign called
out as she quickly connected to sickbay. It took only seconds before she came
back with, "He's on his way." Trip maneuvered himself
into a sitting position and rested his back against the station. His head
felt like it weighed a ton, so he leaned that back, too. "Ugh." Archer frowned down at
him. "You were fine at breakfast. That was just a couple hours
ago." Reed approached the pair
and kneeled down beside the stricken man. "What were you doing before you
came up here to the Bridge, Commander?" "Nothing unusual," Trip
murmured. "I was down in the Phlox arrived a minute
later, hustling over to his patient as soon as the 'lift doors opened.
"What have we here, Commander? Hmm?" Trip sighed. "Feel
like my head's full of cotton, but I'm also dizzy. Can't see for
shit. It's blurry and what I can see...there's three of everything."
Trip was also starting to panic a little, but he didn't want anyone on the
Bridge to know, so he remained silent on that point. Phlox opened his hand
scanner to take a reading of Commander Tucker's vitals. "Well?" Archer prompted
when the doctor remained silent. "Hmm?" Phlox looked
up. "Oh...well...there doesn't appear to be anything wrong with him." "Excuse me?" Trip stared at
the middle of the three Phloxes he saw. "Phlox, I'm lookin' at three of
you. My head's stuck in the clouds, and I got no coordination. What
d'ya mean there's nothing wrong with me!?" "Easy, Commander," Phlox
soothed. "It's merely that I can find nothing disturbing in your vital
signs. Have you been in contact with anything unusual recently? We
know you weren't affected by the Orion females. Anything else?" "Uh...no. Other than
the borite comin' on board right now. Could that be it?" Trip shook his
muddled head, hoping to clear away some of the confusion. "I'm afraid not."
Phlox put away his scanner and prepared to assist the engineer to Sickbay for a
more complete exam. "Borite is absolutely harmless to humans." Trip allowed the doctor to
help him stand up, only wobbling once in the effort. Once he was fully
upright, a sick realization hit him in the guts. "Uh, Doc? What
about any other species? Say...Vulcans?" Phlox straightened
abruptly. "Raw borite is quite toxic to Vulcans.
Commander T'Pol is aware that as long as she isn't exposed to the actual ore,
she should be fine. My understanding was that the ore was crated and
sealed. Is the Commander involved in the transfer?" Trip felt
gut-punched. "Son of a bitch!" He shakily moved
around the doctor and stumbled toward the 'lift. "She's overseein'
the goddamn transfer!" Dr. Phlox trailed after the
engineer. "Well...there should be no problem. The ore is
crated and sealed, is it not?" "Yes!" Trip hissed.
"But somethin's happened!" He practically fell into the 'lift; slapping
the panel to select the appropriate deck. The doors slid shut on the
shocked faces of Archer and Phlox. The Captain turned to
Phlox. "How could he possibly know that?" The Denobulan smiled and
shrugged his shoulders. Though he had a strong suspicion, he had no
desire to speculate on something that was intensely private---should he prove
to be correct. "I'm not sure, Captain, but if he's right, I need to get
down there." "Yes, of course. Keep
me informed." Archer stared after him with a frown lining his
features. He turned to his communications officer. "See who you can
get hold of in the "Aye, sir." Trip staggered his way down the corridor as
quickly as he could, hugging the bulkhead on his way to the Trip's panic rose.
"Has something happened down here? Anybody open a crate?" "Not to my knowledge.
It's been a pretty smooth transfer so far." "Ok...well...I need you to
check every single crate in here. Every. Single. One," he stressed.
"One of 'em is open, and I need you to find it...like now." "Aye, sir," the crewman
responded skeptically. He turned to carry out his orders. "Hey, Mike," Trip called
after him. "You know which way she went?" Trip brushed by him and
hurried toward the back. "Thanks," he absently called over his shoulder. Trip rushed around a stack
of crates and found her leaning against the bulkhead, arms wrapped around her
torso. "T'Pol!" He ran up to her. The Vulcan looked up, eyes
wide in her elfin face. "Trip," she whispered. "Something is wrong
with me." "I know, darlin'.
Come here." He pulled her against his frame. "I'm gonna take you to
Phlox." She collapsed against
him. "I am very dizzy," she muttered. A wry grin twisted across
Trip's face. "Trust me, I know." Oddly enough, now that he'd found
her, his dizziness had disappeared. His vision woes, however,
remained. "Hey," he tipped her chin up. "Can you see me okay?
Am I blurry?" "You have blue eyes," she
stated softly. "Very, very blue." She leaned in closer. "Very,"
she stressed...just in case he didn't get it the first time. Trip chuckled.
"They're supposed to be that way, T'Pol. Come on, we've got to get you to
Phlox. You've been poisoned by the borite." He tried supporting her
as they walked out of the corner, but her legs could not withstand her
weight. He stooped down, hoisted her up in his arms, and turned to head
for the exit. "Wait," T'Pol called
out. "I do not wish to be carried." Trip gazed down at
her. "How do ya suppose you're gonna get to sickbay if I don't? You
can't walk." T'Pol frowned in
consternation. "You are enjoying this...with your blue eyes and human male
machismo." Trip's mouth fell
open. A smile began to slowly creep across his face. The borite was
destroying her impeccable control in a way that was...decidedly amusing, even if
it was also somewhat alarming. And though he took pleasure in this
glimpse of T'Pol, it was, in fact, wrong. It wasn't her;
and it mitigated his enjoyment of her uninhibited musings. "I'm not liking it as much
as ya think, so let's just hurry, okay?" Trip swung her around the crates
and started across the Phlox said nothing as he
took in the Vulcan's lack of coordination and pale features. He did an
about-face and quickly led the way back to the 'lift. Minutes later they
were approaching the doors to Sickbay when T'Pol started muttering. Phlox
looked back. "What is she saying?" "Nothing, Doc. She's
a bit delirious; ignore her." Trip gazed down at T'Pol with a thoroughly
exasperated expression on his face, a light blush creeping up his neck.
"Hush, T'Pol. Ya hear me? Hush." "...with your blue, blue eyes
and your mighty hands..." "T'Pol! Quiet down!" "...intoxicating
scent...intractable human..." "T'Pol!" "...what you think you are
doing with a scent like that..." "Oh, man. Lady, you
have got to stop now." "...not fair...weakening my
defenses..." <Grrr.> "...blue, blue eyes..." "Enough with my eyes,
T'Pol." "They are very
blue, Commander." Trip could no longer help
himself. He began laughing as he set her down on a biobed. "So it's
gonna be like that, is it? Just my eyes and hands, huh?" He
continued chuckling as he straightened her legs and looked toward Phlox.
"Is she gonna be okay?" "Hmmm." Phlox pushed
some equipment close to the biobed. "She is still conscious, which tells
me she was not exposed for long." He began efficiently hooking the
machine up to T'Pol as he spoke. "I'm optimistic that she will fully recover
once I run her blood through the dialyzer. I won't know for sure, of
course, until all of the borite has been removed from her system." Trip tried to step away
from the bed but stopped when T'Pol grabbed at his forearm. She was still
mumbling and muttering; some of it intelligible, most of it, thankfully,
not. "You gotta make sure no one sees her or hears her like this, Phlox.
She's too vulnerable." Doctor Phlox looked up at
the engineer with a very Phloxian smile on his face, now almost certain his
suspicion regarding the two commanders was correct. "Agreed. It's
very thoughtful of you to make note of that." He hummed as he finished
starting T'Pol on the dialysis. "That would be your job, though, wouldn't
it, Commander?" He noted the human's eyesight seemed to have returned to
normal, as well has his lucidity and coordination; yet more confirmation. Trip frowned. "Why do
ya say that?" "Oh, well...no reason, I
suppose." He studied the screens above the biobed, checked her vitals,
and recorded the changes. Could it be the Chief Engineer did not know he
shared a Vulcan mating bond with the First Officer? "My mistake." "No, no...I got it," Trip
muttered. "We're friends, right? Friends look out for each other
all the time." Trip shot a glance at the obviously amused
Denobulan. "How long will this dialysis-thing take," he raised his voice
slightly over T'Pol's continued utterances. "Anyone could walk in here
while she's all hooked up." Phlox loaded a hypospray
and injected its contents into the Vulcan's neck. "That should
help. I've given her something to quiet the speech centers of her brain,
though it won't silence her completely. Hopefully," his grin grew wide,
"it will just put a stop to her more embarrassing exclamations." Trip rubbed his hand over
his head and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah...about that..." "Not to worry,
Commander. Not to worry." Phlox flitted about his monitors, rapidly
taking in the signs of T'Pol's immediate improvement, the dialysis working as
expected. "My lips are sealed. The toxically-induced utterances of
Commander T'Pol fall under the trappings of "doctor-patient
confidentiality." I shall endeavor to forget them, as though they were
never spoken." Perhaps the commanders merely wished to keep their bond
private? Phlox made a mental note to watch for any future signs of a
bond, such as those exhibited by the engineer earlier on the Bridge. He
smirked a bit and continued, "T'Pol herself may not even remember them." Trip glanced down at the
ailing Vulcan and knew he always would. His gaze softened
when he caught her looking at him, her eyes glassy and somber. He could
sense her disorientation and unease through their bond. "Can you pull a
curtain around for some privacy, Doc? She shouldn't be on display with
her control compromised like this. It's...it's...wrong."
He felt a wave of gratitude sweep into his mind and knew it was hers. "Certainly." Phlox
made an adjustment to the dialyzer before turning away. "I'll go update
the Captain and be back in a little while to check on her progress. Just
yell for me if you need me." He pulled a curtain closed around them and
disappeared into his office with a soft smile on his face. Trip pulled a chair close
to the bed and sat down, glad the chair was close because T'Pol refused to
release his arm. He leaned in and smiled down at her. "Just my eyes
and my hands? That's it?" He laughed softly when she raised an
eyebrow at him. He sat back and attempted to relax her by distracting her
with ship's business. He detailed the improvements he made to her sensors
and mapping tools and congratulated himself when her brows furrowed in
concentration, rather than distress. "And then I rerouted the main..." Phlox returned twenty
minutes later and interrupted Trip's ramblings. "Let's check on the
situation, shall we?" He gazed intensely at the overhead monitors and
checked the smooth flow of T'Pol's blood through the dialyzer, pleased with all
results. "Are you feeling better, Commander?" "Yes," T'Pol softly
replied, her voice quiet and subdued. Phlox nodded, making some
notes on a PADD. "Yes, this is going splendidly. I dare say another
hour and your blood should be completely free of toxins." He took in his
patient's features, noting her fatigue through studied practice. He
loaded another hypospray and held it up to her. "I'd like to sedate you
for a few hours to allow your neurological system to recover from today's
trauma." T'Pol nodded her assent and
turned her head to allow him access. "I'll leave you alone to
rest. Commander Tucker should do the same," he hinted and walked
away. "Call me if you need me." Trip stood up.
"Alright, guess I'm being kicked out." He sighed when T'Pol finally
released his arm. He smiled down at her. "Your eyes are pretty
damned distracting, too, ya know." He smirked and stepped back.
"But then again...so are your ears, your nose, your lips, your...uh..." his eyes
roamed down to her chest. "Ah, hell. Damned near all of you."
He started laughing. "And the only things about me you can remember are
my eyes and my hands. Just my eyes and my hands!" he teased. After
another brief moment, his gaze softened. "I'll stop by and check on ya
tonight, okay?" At her nod, he turned to head for the exit. "Trip!" she called softly
before he could disappear around the curtain. He turned back and raised a
brow in question. "Not 'just'." Trip's eyes widened in
understanding, and his lips twitched in bemusement. "Good to know," he
murmured. Then he winked and walked away. END 9/18/08 |
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