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"Moving Forward" by luli27
Disclaimer: Neither the characters, the original concept, most of the medical explanations . . . Umm, might be easier this way: nothing belongs to me except the plot. Oh, wait, Jennifer is mine too! Chapter 1 It was late in the evening when Commander T'Pol made her way to the mess hall for some dinner before she turned in for the night. She was more tired than hungry but she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and it was only logical to eat something before retiring. It was true that Vulcans could go a long time without much sustenance but it was illogical to deprive the body of the nourishment it needed when there was no need for that deprivation. While a couple of missed meals could hardly be called deprivation, the fact was, she had been missing most meals for almost a week now and Trip had noticed. He had, in fact, called her on it just that morning. He'd told her that there was no logical reason for all those skipped meals and that if she didn't make sure to eat more regularly, he'd make sure she did. She wasn't completely certain what that threat entailed but she was certain it had been no idle threat and saw no reason to test him. He was right after all; she did need to start eating better. Knowing he was waiting for her in the mess hall, she entered it and her eyes went directly to where he was sitting as if they had been pulled by a magnetic force. And in a way, they had; the bond they shared served as a beacon, always letting them know precisely where the other one was, at any given moment, and always exerting a subtle pull between them. Like the opposites they were, they always gravitated towards one another. Seeing him sitting at what had become their table was no surprise; finding that he was not alone, however, was - especially when the person keeping him company was Lt. Jennifer Ramos. The sight of them together froze her in her tracks and for one horrible moment, her brain threw her back in time. The sight of the two of them together, the lateness of the hour and the near emptiness of the room all combined to take her back. Suddenly, it was as if the last two weeks had never been; as if the talk in her quarters had never happened and they hadn't decided to be together and allow their bond to grow. Thankfully, the moment passed as fast as it came and she was back in the present. With a minute shake of her head, she turned around and walked to the stasis unit, where she picked up a salad. She then walked to the refreshment center and filled a cup with hot tea. With her meal ready, she once again faced the tables. When her gaze once again immediately settled on Trip and Jennifer, her fingers tightened around the tray with so much force that it cracked. It was that sound that brought her back to her senses and stopped her from running to the table and making sure the other woman understood that she was never to have any contact with Trip again. Taking a deep breath, she deliberately released the white knuckled grip she had on the tray. She knew the younger officer was no threat to her relationship with Trip; he had explained that they'd known each other since childhood. There was no reason for the jealousy or the aggressive possessiveness she was feeling. As she took another deep breath and did her best to control those emotions, she looked around the room to determine where she should sit. She had planned to sit with Trip, but she did not want to intrude if they were having a private discussion; nor did she want to make it obvious she had come to the mess hall to meet him. They had both decided that it would be better if they kept their relationship under wraps so as to not attract Starfleet's interest. And that was another reason why T'Pol could not rip the other woman's head off however much she might want to. Such an altercation would most definitely attract Starfleet's interest. Part of her knew that her reaction was unreasonable but most of her was so preoccupied with the sight of Trip with another woman that she did not stop to think why she was reacting so strongly. And another part was actually proud of her restraint. After all, two weeks ago she would have walked out because she did not trust her control but now she was walking further into the room and had her impulse to hurt the young Lt firmly under control. She hadn't taken two steps before Trip's eyes met hers and he beckoned her to his table. He had seen her enter and had tried to catch her attention then but she had turned around to get her food and hadn't responded to his attempt. He had been about to contact her through the bond when the myriad of confusing emotions T'Pol had been feeling hit him. That had confused him enough that he hadn't been able to make the contact. Instead, he had decided to wait and catch her eye when she turned back around. When T'Pol hesitated to accept his silent invitation, Trip frowned for a second before waving his arm and calling out, "Hey, T'Pol. Why don't ya join us?" After another, undetectable to anyone but Trip, hesitation, T'Pol started walking towards him. "Commander," she said when she reached his table. She then turned to Jennifer and inclining her head, added, "Lieutenant." "Commander," Jennifer returned the greeting with a friendly smile. "So, how was your shift?" he asked as T'Pol sat down. "Uneventful," was the simple response as she started to eat. "You mean boring?" Trip teased her, grinning at her. T'Pol just looked up at him without expression. "I mean uneventful," she repeated. "Vulcans do not experience boredom." "Right," Trip drawled. "How could I forget?" "Must be nice to not get bored," Jennifer commented. "I know that I was bored out of my skull today." "I know what you mean," Trip agreed. "The last few days have been kinda slow." After six months in deep space, the Enterprise was on its way back home for re-supplying and refitting and, since they were less than a week away from Earth, they had found nothing of interest in the last ten days. The crew was starting to exhibit signs of cabin fever. "That's an understatement," Jennifer scoffed. "It's almost enough to make you want to run into hostile aliens and see some action just to relieve the boredom." Trip started to grin in agreement but T'Pol whipped her head up to look at her. "Any action with hostile aliens always carries the possibility that a member of the crew could be injured or, worse, killed," T'Pol hissed, leaning forward, closer to Jennifer. "Wishing for such a thing is not only illogical but also irresponsible." "I'm sorry, Commander," Jennifer started to apologize as Trip looked at T'Pol with eye-wide surprise. "T'Pol!" he reprimanded her. "She was being facetious." "People should be careful about what they say," T'Pol informed them, without taking her eyes from Jennifer's. "One never knows the result of a careless word." "You are right, Commander," Jennifer said, properly chastened. "It won't happen again." "We all say things we don't mean every once in a while," Trip commented. "Remember that time in high school," he began, trying to smooth things over. Though, Jennifer tried to follow along, the atmosphere had been broken and with T'Pol sitting there with a tight face and exuding icy disapproval, it was unlikely to ever be recovered. Finally, Jennifer gave up and fifteen minutes later she excused herself, saying that she had an early morning and needed to get to sleep. "Was that really all that necessary?" Trip asked, once Jennifer had walked out of the mess hall. "What?" T'Pol asked, looking at him with a blank face. "That!" he answered, sounding exasperated. "The rude way ya shut her down a few minutes ago." "I did not shut her down," she denied. "I merely made an accurate assessment." "Right!" he scoffed. "That was a slap down if I ever saw one a completely unnecessary one, too. You knew she was just makin' a joke." "How could I have known that?" she wanted to know. "Because you're not that clueless when it comes to humor," Trip told her. "I am also not an expert on it," she argued. "T'Pol, enough of this semantic argument!" he exclaimed. "I wanna know why you were so rude to her," he demanded. T'Pol just stared at him in stony silence. A few moments later, he sighed and said, "You're not still jealous, are you? 'Cause I already told you there ain't nothing to be jealous about." "I am not jealous," she insisted, but he could tell she was more than agitated. "T'Pol," he said, leaning his arms on the table and his face closer to hers. "What the hell is up with you?" "Nothing is "up" with me," she answered, sounding very defensive. "Yeah, right," he scoffed again. "You're almost as bad as you were back when we were on the Expanse." "Are you insinuating that I've been using Trellium again?" she demanded, all but frowning at him. "No, of course not!" he immediately denied. "I'd never say that." "That is exactly what you insinuated," she told him, firmly. "No, it's not," he shook his head and had to take a deep breath to control the irritation that was starting to get the better of him. "T'Pol," he said, slowly, "let's try this again. Why were you so rude to Jennifer? I've never known you to be that impolite to anyone." "I was not impolite!" she fairly yelled at him. "Yeah, you were," he more or less yelled back. "Why are you so concerned about how I treat the Lt?" she asked him, frowning. "If you're just friends, you shouldn't be so worried about her feelings." "We're only . . ." he started to tell her before he stopped. "T'Pol this is crazy. I don't even know why we're arguing; all I wanted was to find out what's wrong with you." "There is nothing wrong with me!" she said again, slapping the table hard and making his eyes widen in alarm. "Ok, that right there," he pointed, indicating her reaction, "proves to me that there's definitely something wrong with you. And we're gonna go to the infirmary to find out what." "I am not going to the infirmary because there is nothing wrong with me," she hissed, leaning forward. "Yes, you are," he insisted, also leaning forward, "Even if I have to make you." "I am Vulcan and at least three times as strong as you," she informed him. "How are you going to make me?" She asked him, speaking through clenched teeth. "Oh, I'll find a way, don't you worry about that," he said. "Even if I have to drag you outta here." "You would not dare," she told him. "Oh, don't tempt me lady," he gave her a smile that was more mocking than amused. "Now, do you wanna walk or would you prefer I carry you out?" T'Pol glared at him but he only glared back and for some unknown reason, that reaction entranced her. When she realized that she couldn't decide if she wanted to smack him or kiss him, she acknowledged that he was probably right and she should visit sickbay. However, since she was not going to give him the satisfaction of saying so out loud, she just pushed her less than half empty plate away from her and got up. Without checking to see if he was following her, she walked out of the mess hall and started towards sickbay. The trip took less than a couple of minutes and was accomplished in complete silence. Once the doors swished closed behind them, Trip looked around and when he couldn't find the doctor, called out, "Phlox, you in here?" T'Pol stood off to one side, her arms wrapped around her middle and stared at the floor - her emotions harder to control than she cared to admit. "Good evening, Commanders," Phlox greeted them when he came out. "What can I do for you this fine evening?" Trip looked at T'Pol, waiting for her to say something. When she didn't, he sighed and turned back to the doctor. "Hey, Doc," Trip greeted him. "I think there's somethin' wrong with T'Pol. Could you please check her out?" "Of course," Phlox answered, immediately walking towards T'Pol. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked her as he picked up a hand held scanner. "Nothing," T'Pol snapped. Phlox raised his eyebrows at her tone and turned to look at Trip. "That's the problem," Trip told him, motioning to how T'Pol was acting. "She's been actin' a bit . . . wacky; plus," he added, remembering something, "she's also barely been eating this last week." "I see," Phlox said quietly. "Well, let's get you into the imaging chamber and we shall see, hmm?" T'Pol looked as if she was going to argue but one sharp look from Trip was enough to convince her to climb into the chamber. When all the scans had been completed, Phlox studied the results while they waited for T'Pol to join them. "So, Doc," Trip began once she came out, "what's the verdict?" "Commander," Phlox told him, "you know I can't tell you that. Test results are private and subject to doctor-patient confidentiality. So, if you'd please step outside while we go over the results?" "Huh-uh," Trip said, shaking his head adamantly. "I ain't goin' anywhere, Doc. You can forget that!" He crossed his arms across his chest and planted his feet wide apart, he was frowning and it was clear he had no intention to move anytime soon. "Commander," the doctor began, frowning himself but before he could say anything else, T'Pol spoke up. "It is alright, Doctor," she assured him. "You can speak freely in front of the commander; you have my permission." "If you're sure?" the doctor asked. "I am," she answered firmly with a small nod for emphasis. "Very well," Phlox nodded before looking down at his padds as if he needed to check the results once more. "According to the test results, your cortical levels are on the rise as are your serotonin levels; your hormones and endorphins are also high and rising soon, they'll all reach critical levels. You know what that means," he added, looking straight at T'Pol. "Is there any chance the results are wrong?" "None," Phlox denied. "Could the microbe be the cause?" she inquired, while Trip looked between them in confusion. "No," Phlox shook his head. "I'm sorry but there's no evidence that you've contracted the microbe again. I'm afraid that this time it is your natural cycle." "But it is too soon," she argued. Even though she knew he was right, she couldn't stop arguing; she was not ready for it. "My cycle was not supposed to start for another few years." "Something must have triggered it early," Phlox shrugged. "I'm sorry but there's no doubt about it; you're undergoing your first Pon Farr." "I'm sorry," Trip interrupted them, more than exasperated about being left out of the conversation. "Pon Farr? What's that? And how dangerous is it?" Phlox looked at T'Pol to see if she would answer the commander; when she didn't say anything but instead gave him a nod, Phlox took a deep breath as he prepared to answer the commander himself. "As you know," he began in a voice that said Trip was going to get more information than he'd probably needed or wanted, "Vulcans have spent the past millennia striving for a life based solely on logic and eliminating all emotions." "They have emotions, Doc," Trip corrected him. "They just spend most of their lives suppressing 'em." "Exactly," Phlox agreed, nodding his head and smiling widely. "Their emotions are strong, much stronger than Denobulan or Human emotions. They're so strong, in fact, that before the Awakening, they drove the Vulcans to the brink of extinction. The Awakening taught them how to control their emotions so that they could continue their development without killing each other. Of course, instead of just controlling them, they had to go and suppress them. Well, no one ever said Vulcans aren't overachievers. But it would have made them more interesting if they'd tried to combine logic and emotion instead of eradicating one altogether . . ." "Phlox!" Trip interrupted before the good doctor could really get going. "Right," Phlox acknowledged, "I'm digressing. Now, where was I? Ah, yes," he smiled and went back into lecturing, "while repressing emotions might have saved Vulcan civilization, it didn't come without a price. Emotions, whether we like them or not, whether we embrace them or reject them, are a part of us; nature intended us to have them to go against that, demands something in return." "And that's what Pon Farr is?" Trip asked, curious and somewhat impatient to get on to the point of the discussion. T'Pol, for her part, stood next to Trip, breathing deeply and trying to maintain her composure. "Nature's way of gettin' back at Vulcans for repressing their emotions?" "In a matter of speaking," Phlox answered. "Whenever we feel emotions, our bodies have a corresponding physiological response; those responses are necessary to maintain our brain chemistry and keep it in balance. But since Vulcans don't feel' emotions," "They don't experience the physiological response," Trip ended for Phlox and the doctor nodded. "But as annoying as most Vulcans can be," Trip added with a small smirk, "I doubt they're mentally unbalanced." "No, of course they're not," Phlox smiled. "However, because all the responses are suppressed, the chemicals have nowhere to go. They're bottled up until they're released in one big, well, chemical explosion." "And that's what Pon Farr is?" Trip asked again. "Yes," Phlox nodded. "Every seven years, after they've reached maturity, Vulcans experience the Pon Farr, a neuro-chemical imbalance that takes on a form of madness, makes them lose all emotional control and culminates with the plak tow. During this period, the cortical levels rise and fall, as the brain's regulatory system pretty much shuts down. Serotonin levels become unbalanced, hormones and endorphin levels rise to a dangerous level. If the Pon Farr isn't satiated, it can be fatal within eight days of the onset." "Fatal??!!" Trip exclaimed, shocked. "You're tellin' me T'Pol could die from this?!" "Yes," was the short response. Before Phlox could say anything, Trip asked a follow up question. "Well, you said she has to satiate it. How does she do that?" he wanted to know, anxious to get T'Pol the help she needed. "As you know," Phlox began, looking at T'Pol once more to see if she had any concerns about the conversation, but she was still looking at the floor, seemingly content to let Phlox take the lead, "Vulcans are notoriously private about most aspects of their culture, especially when it comes to their medical history. But as far as I've been able to determine," and he'd done quite a bit of research after T'Pol's first aborted bout with Pon Farr, "there are three ways in which Pon Farr can be satiated: Intensive meditation," "Good, that's good," Trip nodded. "T'Pol can do that then." But the look in Phlox's face said that wasn't really an option. "She can't satiate it that way?" "Well," Phlox began and looked at T'Pol again, hoping that she'd take over because continuing meant revealing her past medical history. T'Pol wasn't comfortable speaking of such private matters, but Trip was her mate and had a right to know. In fact, she should have probably explained all about Pon Farr before this, but the right time hadn't presented itself. She knew letting Phlox tell him about it now was somewhat cowardly, but it helped if the doctor presented the information as a lecture, it gave her much needed distance from it. Still, some answers she should give herself. "With my compromised neural pathways," she said, speaking up for the first time, "meditation is not a viable option for me." "Ok," Trip nodded, without asking what she meant about compromised neural pathways and Phlox realized that Trip must know all about T'Pol's addiction and that meant that the two commanders must have gotten a lot closer than anyone on the ship suspected. "So, what's the second option?" he asked. He and T'Pol had done a lot of talking in the last two weeks and, while she hadn't gone into too much detail, he knew all about the Pa'nar and the Trellium addiction. "The second option is to participate in a kal-if-fee challenge," Phlox told him. "Kalifi?" Trip repeated, mangling the pronunciation. "What's that?" he asked, looking between the two of them. "It literally means challenge," T'Pol once again answered. "It was the traditional passion fight to the death when two males fought for the right to mate with a female." "A fight to the death?!" Trip asked, horrified. "It was the tradition before the Awakening," T'Pol clarified. "While it was done as a way to settle betrothal disputes, the pure physicality of it also served to purge the Pon Farr." "At any rate," Trip decided, still looking mildly appalled. "That's out too. What's the third option?" He asked and this time, T'Pol looked to Phlox to answer. "The third option," Phlox said, with an inaudible sigh, "is to take a mate." "A mate?!" Trip asked, just when he thought he couldn't be more surprised, the Vulcans had to prove him wrong. "You mean, they have to have sex or they die?" he asked for clarification and Phlox once again nodded. And before he could stop himself, "Talk about every young man's wet dream," he murmured, smirking. "Commander, really!" Phlox exclaimed, annoyed. "This is no joking matter." "I know, Doc, I know," Trip agreed. "It's just . . ." he trailed off and turned to look at T'Pol. "You Vulcans never did do anything the easy way, huh?" "Commander," Phlox said, looking at T'Pol and ignoring Trip, "I need your authorization to inform the Captain of your condition; we need to get you to Vulcan and find you a mate as soon as possible." "NO!" both Trip and T'Pol answered immediately and emphatically and took Phlox aback. "Commander," he repeated, looking at T'Pol, once he got over the surprise, "this is serious. We need to get you help as soon as we can and our best option is to go to Vulcan. It'll be easier to find someone to help you there, if we wait too long we'll have to . . ." "Doctor," T'Pol said, interrupting him, "it is not necessary to go to Vulcan because my bonded mate is here on Enterprise." |
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