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"Reflecting to You"
By MissAnnThropic
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: None of its mine. I’m just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching taped episodes of my favorite shows. :(
Description: A different ending to In a Mirror Darkly, Part I, results in the Mirror Universe T'Pol ending up on our universe's Enterprise when the relationship between Trip and T'Pol is at a breaking point. (later becomes a cross-over with ST:TOS, Spoilers: The Tholian Web)
Chapter 19
Porthos gave a happy yip and a wag of his tail as he trotted alongside his master through the corridors of Enterprise. Archer glanced down fondly at his pet. If the animal could talk, Porthos might very well say he preferred Trip and T'Pol being on the outs with the captain... it meant Porthos got Archer pretty much all to himself.
With Trip and T'Pol in distant orbits of their own lately (orbits which clearly excluded Archer), the captain discovered just how detached he was from the rest of his crew. Especially since the mission in the Expanse, Archer's skills at socializing with his crew were atrophied. He simply hadn't noticed until recently just how badly. Before, Trip and T'Pol had blinded him to his own flaw.
Trip had come aboard Enterprise his preexisting friend; from the beginning he had been someone for Archer to talk to. Trip was always there, ready and adept at shedding the mantle of rank and becoming Trip Tucker, friend and confidante. He was Archer's moral compass, his sounding board, because Trip could listen to Archer voice a concern, state his own opinion on the matter, then give a jaunty 'aye aye, Cap'n' and obey Archer's final decision, whether it agreed with Trip's views or not. They'd butted heads once or twice, of course, but Archer always knew that when it came down to it, Trip had his back.
It hadn't been as innate or immediate with his science officer. T'Pol had earned Archer's respect first and then later his friendship. Unlike Trip, she never forgot he was her captain, not even when they were off duty, but she had a way of turning his problems inside out for him. He'd give her a dilemma and she'd give it back to him caparisoned in Vulcan perspective and point of view. Often, it revealed something Archer had missed before when he'd been seeing it only from human eyes. That talent of T'Pol's for reframing his problems became invaluable to him, and in the process she became invaluable. He became comfortable in her presence, even if she never relaxed her shoulders or let down her metaphorical hair.
Archer had all the counsel, advice, and comfortable companionship he thought he'd ever need on a ship the size of Enterprise. Trip and T'Pol's dependability had done nothing to encourage Archer to foster anything more than friendly working relationships with the rest of his crew.
Now he knew just how much he had always relied on Trip and T'Pol's companionship. Now that they were withdrawn and inaccessible to him, Archer discovered he had no one else to really talk to. He was on friendly terms with all his crew, but none among them could he genuinely count a friend. Everyone else was distinctly a subordinate in the chain of command talking to their captain, never one friend to another. The only real friends Archer had on the ship were lost in the grief of their daughter's death and Archer was, quite honestly, lonely.
The captain had become something of a familiar haunt in the corridors at night since the death of Elizabeth T'Les Tucker, and the crewmen who saw him gave a courteous greeting like he was expected, but otherwise they left him to his own thoughts. Archer got to know the ship's batch of insomniacs well.
One of the perks of captaincy was inherent right-of-way wherever he went, so he stopped paying attention to where he was going. Crewmembers moved aside for him, and he could have walked the innards of the ship with his eyes closed. It left a lot of brain space free for thinking, which could be good or bad, depending on the night.
Tonight, it was mostly ruminative.
Archer absent-mindedly rounded a corner, Porthos close at his side, and very nearly ran into someone coming swiftly from the adjoining corridor.
"Whoa!" Archer reflexively brought up his hands to steady the other party in their head-on collision in case they lost their balance. A frightened whimper from Porthos told the captain who he'd nearly collided with before he actually looked at her face.
Mu'Pol stiffened and sidled out of his grasp with the agility of a spooked cat. She stood back a pace and eyed him.
Porthos cowered behind Archer while the captain took a moment to study his ship's guest. She was dressed in gym clothes, the type T'Pol wore when she exercised. Her hair was back in a ponytail... were it not for the light of mistrust and defensiveness in her eyes, she might easily be mistaken for T'Pol.
But though they were genetically the same woman, there was quite literally a universe of difference between them.
"Sorry about that," Archer offered with a casual smile.
Mu'Pol almost began to frown then moved to go around him and continue on her way.
"Lieutenant Reed came to see me this afternoon," Archer said.
Mu'Pol froze.
"Told me you two had a little incident in the gym."
Mu'Pol turned slowly back to Archer, pointedly avoiding his eyes. "It was a... misunderstanding."
Archer felt silly having this awkward conversation standing in the corridor. "Walk with me."
Mu'Pol seemed to balk a second at the command then reluctantly fell in step beside him. Archer led them off at a leisurely stroll down the corridor, no particular destination in mind. Porthos skittered around to Archer's right side to keep his master between him and Mu'Pol. The beagle's mood was definitely dampened.
"Malcolm explained what happened. I know you didn't mean to go so far with the sparring exercise... still, I'm not too happy about a security officer with a black eye."
"I made an error in judgment. It will not happen again."
"Well, you don't have to let him win," Archer said with a playful smile.
Mu'Pol glanced fleetingly at him, scowled, and looked away.
At a turn in the corridor, Archer decided arbitrarily to go right. He started in that direction and held out an inviting arm to Mu'Pol to indicate she continue alongside him. When Archer raised his arm she jerked away to a safe distance.
When they were once again walking side by side, Archer said in a solemn voice, "I don't bite, you know."
"I'm not interested in your bedroom behavior," Mu'Pol replied caustically.
Archer sighed. "Mu'Pol..." he stopped and turned to face her. Mu'Pol stopped and matched him, a comfortable distance away. Archer's face screwed, "Are you sure you don't mind being called that? Commander T'Pol never put much stock in nicknames... thought they were illogical."
"They are. But my presence on this ship is peculiar, and humans often need a simplified means to their ends. If a nickname aids your crew in distinguishing me from her, they may use it. I have had humans call me far worse."
Archer shrugged, consciously ignoring the blatant insult to human intelligence contained within her answer. "Fair enough," he said and resumed walking. After a pause, Mu'Pol followed.
"As I was saying," Archer continued his previous train of thought, "I understand you came from a very hostile environment, and it's going to take time to adjust. I appreciate that. But it's been weeks since you came aboard, and you still act like I'm going to shoot you just as soon as look at you." He cast an openly sincere look over at her. "I've never been anything but nice to you."
Mu'Pol looked troubled and pensive.
"I'm not saying you have to like me, but... I would like a chance before you decide I'm a bad person. All I ask is the same chance you gave Hoshi and Travis."
This time it was Mu'Pol who stopped first. Archer halted and turned to look steadily at her.
She fidgeted, edgy and uncomfortable and showing it as T'Pol never would, then she said, "There is... merit to your words."
He waited patiently, because this was clearly distressful to her.
"I find myself mired by memories of the Jonathan Archer I knew. Against logic, I continue to view you the way I saw him and to judge you as I judged him."
Archer's mouth tightened. "From the way you act around me, he must be a real asshole."
"He is."
Archer laughed. Mu'Pol cocked an eyebrow at him. "You know, when I got past believing the myth that Vulcans don't have a sense of humor, I find I really enjoy it."
Mu'Pol looked almost wry, which was a huge improvement over hostile.
"I know it could take a long time," Archer began gently, "and I don't expect you to change overnight, but I would rather be your friend than your enemy."
Mu'Pol tentatively began walking again and Archer followed suit, soon taking up the lead once more.
"In my universe," Mu'Pol said evenly, "humans do not consider Vulcans 'friends'."
"They do here. Of my two best friends, one is Vulcan."
"Commander T'Pol."
"That's right."
Mu'Pol looked sidelong at him. "Do you really hold her in such high esteem?"
"You bet I do.
"I'm not the only one. A lot of people on Enterprise think a great deal of Commander T'Pol."
"Some more than others," Mu'Pol stated bluntly.
Archer felt a knot of discomfort twist in the pit of his stomach. "True."
"Trip has affection for her." She sounded puzzled and exasperated by that even as she said it. She was not hesitant to point out Trip's emotions on the matter, however.
"Well..." the captain didn't feel comfortable talking about his best friend with someone that he didn't know Trip explicitly trusted. If this were T'Pol, he wouldn't think twice.
"He goes so far as to say he loves her," Mu'Pol added.
That shouldn't surprise him, but yet to hear it said aloud so plainly like that made Archer wince. Trip could fall harder in love than any man alive, but none of his previous girlfriends (of which Archer was aware) had he ever proclaimed aloud to 'love'. It made Archer think of how hard that meant Trip had truly fallen for T'Pol if he would confess to Mu'Pol that he loved T'Pol. And now to think of the mess they were...
"I don't doubt that he does," Archer finally hedged.
Mu'Pol stopped on a dime, whirled to face Archer, and fire glittered stubbornly in her eyes. "How can a human give himself so utterly to one indifferent to his feelings?"
It was almost like vertigo... first, to hear a Vulcan talk so passionately about feelings, and second, to see a ferocity to how much Mu'Pol actually seemed to care. He couldn't decide which was more startling.
"I don't think T'Pol is indifferent at all," Archer answered softly.
"Indifferent, no..." Mu'Pol amended. "Cold."
Archer bristled. "Mu'Pol... I don't know how much Hoshi has told you about the history between Trip and T'Pol, but she could have talked of nothing else since you arrived and you still wouldn't be in a position to understand, let alone judge, either of them or their... relationship."
Mu'Pol looked haughty as she countered. "The Vulcan soul is the Vulcan soul."
"In your universe, does the Vulcan soul bond with the human soul?"
Mu'Pol withered fractionally in response, chastised after a fashion.
"Then you can't simply call a spade a spade," Archer finished brusquely and began walking again. He didn't care if Mu'Pol joined him or not. Quickly, she caught up with him. "You're very protective of them."
"They're both very important to me; they're like family," Archer returned cautiously. He didn't want a fight with Mu'Pol just when he'd managed to get her talking to him for more than two seconds, but he couldn't quietly stand by and listen to Mu'Pol slander his two best friends... or either of them. Trip and T'Pol were too close to family for Archer to stay a neutral party.
Mu'Pol stared at him. She stared so long that Archer glanced over when it became uncomfortably protracted. When their eyes met Mu'Pol's brow crinkled. "I believe you mean that."
"I do."
Mu'Pol clearly needed time with that, so Archer walked at her side for a while in silence. Porthos was growing bolder the longer Mu'Pol seemed not to notice him, and he began to trot with a little more bounce, albeit cautious, to his step.
After what felt like several minutes in silence (and almost companionable at that), Mu'Pol spoke. "This universe is very different from my own."
"Yes, it is."
"Ultimately, it is better." When Archer glanced at her in wonder at her confession she took a steeling breath. "It may take me a great deal of time to relearn everything I have ever known if I want to live in this universe... but I wish to succeed." Mu'Pol looked fleetingly at him. "It would be most agreeable if I could..." she searched for the right words. "If I could learn how to..." she visibly braced, "to trust."
Archer offered a tentative smile. "It won't be easy for you."
"Nevertheless, I will try."
"Even with me?" Archer teased kindly, testing her new resolution.
Mu'Pol lifted a single eyebrow at him. "Even with you."
"I think you'll find we humans might surprise you."
"They usually do," Mu'Pol returned somewhat bitterly.
Archer chuckled, "But this time, I mean pleasantly surprise."
"That would be a change."
As they walked together down the corridor, Archer found himself outside the conference room and on a lark fancied a view of the stars. Suddenly, the night was looking much more promising for the progress he'd made at last with Mu'Pol. "Care to join me a while longer? If I'm not keeping you up late."
Before Mu'Pol could react, Chef came around the corner and very nearly bumped into Archer as he stood before the conference room entrance. Mu'Pol shuffled a half-step back to steer clear of the human battering ram. The cook had the look of being fully engaged in planning tomorrow morning's selection and almost didn't even notice the captain in front of him.
"Chef," Archer both greeted the man and warned him of his collision course with the top-ranking member of the crew.
Chef jerked to a stop, looked up, and blinked. He glanced between Archer and Mu'Pol then gave a sheepish shrug. "Sorry, sir, my mind was somewhere else."
Archer's eyes had been primarily on Mu'Pol the whole time. He took heart from the fact that Chef's unexpected appearance did not elicit an instantaneous flicker of hostility, as such encounters had when Mu'Pol first came aboard. Now her initial reaction was more watchful than anything. She would fight if the situation warranted it, but it wasn't her first reflex anymore. She was retraining herself, as she swore she would. Archer called that great progress. To the ship's master of cuisine, he said a reassuring, "No problem."
Chef nodded quickly at Archer, gave a more uncertain, hesitant nod to Mu'Pol, then he continued on his way. Over the Chef's passing back, Archer asked Mu'Pol again, "So... will you join me for a few minutes?"
Mu'Pol noticeably paused, fighting her first instinct to refuse to spend time in his company, then she committed herself to her decision to adjust to her new universe. She stepped forward to accompany him. "You are not keeping me from sleep. My quarters are likely still occupied even if I wanted to retire."
That was peculiar. "Oh? Who's in your quarters?" He commanded open the door and stepped into the empty room while awaiting Mu'Pol's answer...
Or the nearly empty room. At once, Porthos began barking at the person standing in the shadows of the conference room. That Porthos would bark at all told Archer this wasn't someone on the crew; Porthos knew everyone on Enterprise.
Archer reacted. He grabbed Mu'Pol by the arm and pulled her to his side... not because she was a damsel in distress, but because he wanted his forces grouped and he didn't want to wonder, if a firefight broke out, where exactly she was in relation to his own position. His hand groped at his waist for a phase pistol that wasn't there. Mu'Pol pried from his grip and moved toward the illumination controls to shed light on the stranger.
"Who are you?" Archer demanded as the lights came on and revealed the third person in the room.
He was human, but definitely not Starfleet. He was a very proper-looking gentleman with dark blond hair that was cut immaculately and he wore twentieth century suit and tie garb. The man was utterly nonplussed by Archer's posture of hackles up and eyes flinty with suspicion. Porthos was growling and having just as much effect.
"Good evening, Captain Archer," the stranger said in a nonchalant voice.
"Who are you? How'd you get on my ship?"
"My name is Gary Seven... as to how I got here..." the man shrugged. "That's immaterial at the moment."
"The hell it is. What do you want?"
"From you, Captain? Nothing. I'm here for her."
Archer's eyes moved at once to Mu'Pol, who stood staring venomously at the strange man, once again the Vulcan former slave unable to think fondly of any human.
A three-way stalemate settled over the room to the accompaniment of the snarling of a small dog.
Archer thought bitterly as he looked back and forth between his two unanticipated passengers 'so much for my night looking up.'
Back to Chapter 18
Continue to Chapter 20
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